Vengeful in Love Page 7

  “You should let go if you want me to pack,” she managed to say, despite the sudden dryness in her mouth.

  He released her, triumph glittering in his eyes, and watched her go to her bedroom.

  She didn’t have enough time for full makeup so she settled for powder and lipstick. Moving quickly from bedroom to bathroom to closet, she threw her toiletries, tubes and jars of cosmetics, a change of underwear and a couple of tops and bottoms into a small black duffel bag and returned to the living room.

  Matto lay on Alex’s lap while Alex scratched him gently. The cat’s eyes were closed, and he was purring. The sight softened her heart so quickly and so absurdly, she paused there and soaked in the peacefulness, the odd sense of domestic harmony.

  It was such a cliché for a woman to fall in love with a man who loved her pet. Of course, she was far too practical to fall for Alex just because he scratched Matto’s ears, but this felt like something faintly ominous—a crack in the wall surrounding her heart. Thunder off on the horizon.

  Alex looked up. “I think he likes me.”

  “Seems that way,” she said through a small lump in her throat.

  He looked at the duffel bag in her hand. “Is that all?”

  She nodded.

  “Light packer. A woman after my own heart.” He took the bag from her. “After you.”

  Chapter Nine

  THE CABIN WAS surprisingly rustic, not at all like the slick modern cottage the Halls owned in British Columbia. It was surrounded by maple and oak trees and had a nice view of the lake.

  Alex closed the Mercedes trunk with a soft thud. Natalie turned away from the water and looked at him. Somehow, she was glad he hadn’t driven his Lamborghini. The sun seeped through the gaps between the leaves and dappled his tall figure. He held a bag in each hand, one hers, one his. She couldn’t see his eyes through the dark sunglasses he wore.

  The woods were full of small chirps and chitters as they went up to the cabin door. Alex unlocked it and shouldered his way inside. Natalie followed him, her sandals making light tocking sounds as she walked across the wooden floor. The scents of beeswax and pine swirled in the living room as a bit of the outside breeze came in with them. Sunlight poured in like honey through a wide skylight in the sloped roof.

  Alex walked to a bedroom on the right and dropped the bags in there. “If you’re hungry, feel free to raid the fridge.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Natalie poked around the place. The living room and the kitchen were surprisingly spacious, with only a rectangular marble-topped island separating them. There wasn’t any formal dining area, although the backyard had a small picnic table and a fairly large herb garden with basil, sage, and rosemary.

  Through the gaps in the trees, the lake sparkled like sapphires. She’d thought she would see people around—it was a beautiful place—but only a doe came by to drink, disappearing into the woods after having her fill.

  The faint sound of water running in the bathroom sink made her aware of what was to come. Suddenly nervous, she rubbed her palms against the soft fabric of her jeans. A small part of her cautioned against what she was about to do. It wasn’t like her to fall into bed with a man she’d met only a few days ago. Yet no man had been able to break down her defenses so quickly. Alex had been the only one to make her feel truly desirable. Wanted.

  And no one before him had stood up for her. Her old boyfriends had been too busy trying to impress her important family.

  As she stood leaning against the doorjamb and gazing out at the lake, warm arms came around her from behind. “What are you thinking?” His soft breath tickled her ear, as close and intimate as her own heartbeat.

  She tilted her head back until she could look up into his eyes. Gray-blue in this light, they seemed to hold the essence of the man. There was desire, yes, and steel but also something forthright that said he wasn’t making pretty but empty promises—the passion he was offering was all that she was getting.

  And it was up to her now. Take it or leave it.

  Natalie turned in his embrace until she faced him and tiptoed so she could brush her lips against his. She felt him smile as they kissed. Then his mouth was moving leisurely over hers, his moist, hot tongue licking and tasting.

  Impressions came in waves. Overwhelming masculinity. Tightly controlled, raw sexuality. Her hands traveled the vast, hard plane of his back. His tongue probed, penetrated her mouth. Her fingers dug into him.

  His big hands skimmed her shoulders, her sides, under her breasts. They branded her through the cotton baby tee she wore. Her nipples hardened, aching for a direct touch.

  His fingers circled around her breasts, climbed up the delicate skin, then ran down the length of her spine. She shivered and broke off the kiss.

  “Alex.”

  Natalie didn’t recognize her own voice. She fought for control as her body remembered yesterday and demanded satisfaction.

  He paused.

  “Don’t…” Her fingers buried themselves in his hair and pulled his head toward her roughly. “Don’t you dare stop.”

  She fused her mouth to his. This time, he didn’t hold back. Maintaining the kiss, he lifted her and carried her back into the cabin’s main room. It seemed about as difficult for him as carrying Matto would have been.

  The power in his body stunned her. It was as if she were made of papier-mâché and he of oak. She liked her men strong, but this was almost frightening.

  His hands were everywhere, fueling an inextinguishable fire in her. Despite the breeze stirring the air, a thin film of sweat covered her body. He pulled her shirt up and unclasped her bra. His mouth took her nipple, the touch she’d been aching for, and she cried out.

  She moved her legs restlessly. Her sex was slick and ready. Switching to the other breast, he put a thigh between hers. She rubbed herself against it shamelessly. But it wasn’t enough. Far from it.

  “Now,” she said. “Now.”

  With his mouth still on her nipple, he picked her up again and took several steps until her back touched the island between the kitchen and the living room. Wordlessly, she put her hands on the smooth top to brace herself. He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Her entire body tensed in anticipation of total possession. But instead of ripping her pants off and taking her, he drew her jeans down slowly, then paused and fingered her through the thin lacy fabric of her panties, moist with her heat.

  “Alex!”

  Natalie wanted the panties gone. Impatient, she pulled the underwear down herself and placed her feet widely apart.

  Alex’s eyes turned to glittering slits. Two fingers entered her, and his thumb rubbed the little sensitive nub.

  Her back arched. The sensation was almost too much. His mouth, his hands—they all moved to drive her relentlessly toward the edge, and she was helpless to stop it.

  Her body tensed, rock hard, and she screamed her pleasure. But this was just the beginning. He pushed her again, farther and faster. He pressed his clever mouth against her sex, sensitive after the incredible orgasm.

  “I can’t,” Natalie moaned.

  He showed her she could.

  She fought to breathe. She had no control over her body or its response to him. When she clenched her hands around the edge of the counter and convulsed, she found herself flung so far and so fast that if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen.

  Alex finally moved away from her, and Natalie gulped in air. He pulled his clothes off. His erection jutted out.

  At the sight of it, she found her desire rising again, a monster that should’ve been appeased after two explosive orgasms.

  “Turn around,” he said, his voice rough.

  Her brain was slow to comprehend, but he didn’t bother to wait. He turned her, bent her over the counter, and placed her hands on the edge.

  “Spread your legs.”

  Mindless with need, she did as she was told. She heard the sharp tear of a condom package. He rested his hands on her hips and caressed
them before he pushed inside.

  He felt enormous, but he entered her in one smooth stroke. Her entire body quivered.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck.

  “Take me.”

  “How?”

  God, how could he expect her to talk when she had to fight for every breath? She wanted everything he had to give. She tried to move, but he held her tightly.

  “Hard. Fast. Front, back, side, I don’t care how you do it, just do it!”

  She could feel his triumph as he began to plunge in and out of her, hard and fast just like she’d begged him to. With each thrust, he seemed to enter deeper. She arched her back. Her insides wound tighter, and incredibly, she found herself climaxing again. Holding back was impossible. A sob tore her throat as she surrendered to another tide of pleasure. Before she could catch her breath, he flipped her around, leaving her legs dangling off the island, and entered her again, face-to-face. He gripped her hips hard and pumped into her. She was nothing but a trembling mass of overly sensitized nerve endings. He was ruthless, as if he was trying to brand her as his.

  And she didn’t care. Her brain had ceased to work a long time ago, and there was only her body and its insatiable need for the sensation only Alex could give her.

  The sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Harsh breathing. Her own voice in another piercing scream.

  He gave a guttural groan and one final thrust. He leaned heavily against her, and she welcomed the solid reality of his body on hers. As the tides of sensation receded and she slowly came back to her senses, she was surprised and a little frightened to realize that Alex had reached something inside of her that was far beyond the physical.

  * * *

  She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. When he got his breath back, he gave her a kiss and went to the bathroom. Sated and sleepy, she followed him to the master bedroom and leaned against the door frame. She’d thought the cabin was a hunting lodge and expected a decapitated stag head mounted over the bed or something. But instead there was a modern painting. Oak walls gave the room a light touch, with a large window that faced the woods. The sunlight filtered through the pale emerald drapery and dyed the ivory sheets on the bed green.

  Natalie heard the toilet flush, and Alex reappeared with a small towel. He cleaned her gently, and she sighed. Even the soft fabric was too much for the sensitive junction between her legs.

  “Let me take you to bed,” he murmured.

  Alex picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her on the cool sheets. She curled into a fetal position. He spooned her, and she relaxed into his body heat. After their passionate lovemaking, his presence next to her felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  They lay there for a few moments, his hands skimming her curves. Then he murmured, “You mentioned something about doing it from the side…?”

  There was a slight but slowly increasing pressure along a cucumber-sized length of the back of her thigh. Her eyes widened.

  “You don’t need to…rest?”

  She didn’t need to turn around to know there was a smile on his face. “Apparently not.”

  Chapter Ten

  IT WAS THE damnedest thing.

  What had happened in the Halls’ backyard had stayed with Alex through the rest of the day and far into the night. When nothing, not even an arctic shower, had worked, he’d thought he could sate the need if he slept with her.

  What a huge miscalculation.

  What they’d just done was more than sex. He’d never been so attuned to another person. And when she’d demanded that he take her…he’d been filled by a savage exhilaration he thought would kill him.

  Look at what she was doing to him without even touching him. His teenage years were well in the past, but she made him feel like he was back in high school, hormones running rampant. He wanted to mark her as his. Make her forget Charlie Rodale, that moron Marcus O’Dell, and every other man on the planet.

  The ferocity of his possessiveness startled him. He didn’t get involved this deeply this quickly. The primary reason for approaching Natalie in the first place had been to strike at the Rodales. But now he found himself stricken.

  Bitterness filled his mouth. Hadn’t he learned from what happened to his father?

  Emily Rodale, young, beautiful, and ambitious, had slept with James Damon only for the business secrets that had enabled Charles Rodale Sr. to destroy the Damons’ company. When the family lost its fortune, Alex’s mother hadn’t been able to deal with the situation. She had loved James only for the financial security he had provided for her. Being poor hadn’t been something she could understand. Growing up rich tended to do that to people.

  And look how everything had turned out for James himself. Destitute and alone. Alex’s mother had been able to find someone else. She’d been a beautiful woman, after all, with zero maternal instinct; Alex had woken up one day to find her gone.

  She’d never come back. Had never written or called or sent him Christmas cards or birthday presents.

  He still remembered the humiliation and the terrible, racking pain. The feelings of helplessness and inadequacy.

  Emily would feel them tenfold. A hundredfold.

  Natalie rolled over and looked at Alex with wide eyes, dark and clear, and he was immediately jerked back to the present. “What are you thinking?” she said.

  “Nothing.” Then he smiled. “Well…maybe something.”

  He reached for a condom. The second he was protected, he grabbed her and parted her thighs. He entered smoothly, finding her ready and hilting himself in one exquisitely long plunge.

  She adjusted to his invasion. He kissed her, and it was as if he hadn’t had two killer orgasms in the past hour.

  It took longer this time. She cried out at the end, back arched and face contorted, and he gave in to the wave of desire consuming them and let himself go, falling forever.

  * * *

  Natalie opened her eyes. The dim light in the room told her some time had passed. Her hands crept to the other side of the bed and touched the cool pillow. Just that small movement made her wince. Her entire body felt sore and abused…but it was a good soreness. Grabbing a fistful of the sheet, she raised herself up and blinked.

  The bed looked as if it had gone through World War III.

  “You’re up.”

  She turned her head. He walked through the door, only a pair of loose black shorts covering his naked body, and kissed her mouth. The mattress dipped as he rested his weight on the edge.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the brief, tender touch. When he lifted his head, she said, “What time is it?”

  “Quarter after four.” He wrapped her hair around his finger. “Hungry?” he said, his eyes on hers.

  Her stomach growled before she could respond. She put a hand over it guiltily, and he laughed.

  “I guess that answers that.” He kissed her again. “Come to the kitchen. I’ll whip something up.”

  She watched him disappear. Dragging the sheet, she looked for her clothes until she remembered that the last time she had them on, she and Alex were…in the kitchen. The memory of what had happened there sent a tremor through her body. Apparently, the pyrotechnic quality of their lovemaking had done nothing to blunt the sharp edge of her desire.

  The scent of food called out to her, and she made her way to the kitchen, the sheet draped across her naked body in a makeshift toga. She picked her clothes up from the floor and put them on her lap as she sat down on one of the stools by the island. Alex’s mouth quirked into a smile as he placed a plate piled with ham and cheese sandwiches on the smooth top in front of her.

  “I can’t eat two of those,” Natalie said. Then she eyed his plate. Four?

  “Sure you can. Gotta keep your strength up.”

  She bit into her sandwich. Salty ham and sharp cheese melted on toasted rye bread created a nice harmony of flavors. She sipped her Diet Coke, looking at Alex through her eyel
ashes. He seemed casual and relaxed as he munched on his food. The man could eat. He must’ve found Louise’s bird-sized, high-society portions from the night before sorely lacking.

  After he finished his meal, he came around the island and gently massaged her shoulders and neck. His touch loosened her muscles and made her sigh. And just like that, she turned into a puddle of needy flesh. This time, they made it to the bedroom.

  Now they were able to go more slowly. A gentle touch here. There. Her fingers skimming his muscles. A brush of silky sheet on bare skin. The feel of his hair against her cheek, her stomach, her thighs.

  The intoxicating scent of desire and heat.

  His eyes, lit with passion, watched her, his caresses shaped by her subtlest responses.

  This was everything Natalie thought a physical union between a man and woman should be and more. It went beyond physical pleasure to emotional bonding.

  It frightened her.

  She rolled him over until she was on top. Then she pulled his arms up until his hands grazed the wooden spokes that formed the headboard.

  “Hold these,” she said.

  He obeyed with a bemused look on his face.

  She used his belt and a scarf that she’d brought along to tie his wrists to the spokes. She’d seen how strong he was, but they looked sturdy enough to hold him. Not that he seemed to be in any hurry to get away.

  “You were in control last time. Now it’s my turn,” she whispered and kissed his lips.

  He kissed her back, but when she finally broke off, he glanced up at the restraints.

  “Not used to this?” she murmured.

  “I prefer being on top.”

  “Mmmm. Maybe later…if you’re very good.”

  First with her hands, then with her mouth, she explored every inch of his body and felt satisfaction at every muscular tremor, every hiss of his breath. After a time, she didn’t know where her pleasure ended and his began.

  She covered him with a condom and sat on him. His thick length filled and stretched her. She gulped for air and began to move, then ground her hips against his pelvic bones. This was her show: she set the pace, and he had to follow. Just the thought was intoxicating—the billionaire at her mercy.