as restaurants or tourist sights go, we're pretty much on equal ground.”
He blinked. So that was how she was going to play it.
Whatever. He would play along for as long as he could stand it, but he wasn't going to last much longer.
“Get into the car,” he ordered.
Chapter 5
Raine's nerves were so raw that the muted thump of the car door closing made her gasp. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down as he circled the car. She would
She jerked as he opened the driver's side door. The big Chevy Avalanche seemed much smaller and warmer once the dark length of him was folded into it. He turned the keys in the ignition and gave her an inquisitive look as the motor purred to life. “So?” His gaze slid swiftly down her body, then returned to her face. “Where to?”
She made a helpless little gesture. “Well, that depends.”
“On what?”
“On, ah, what you want to do. What your interests are,” she offered desperately.
An ironic smile flickered across his lean, dark face. “My interests,” he repeated. “Yes,” she pushed on. “There's the, urn, art museum, with a show of... I think it was Frida Kahlo, last time I checked. And the Pike Street Market, of course. The Space Needle is always a favorite. And there are some wonderful boat trips, if you haven’t seen the—”
“No art. No shopping. No boats.”
Raine eyed him, suspicious hint of dark laughter in his voice. “Then... what do you want to do?” she faltered.
A sensual smile deepened the grooves around his mouth.
Heat swept up over her chest and face. Her heart began to gallop. The silence between them stretched out. He wasn't going to move or speak, the ruthless bastard. He was going to torture her. Watch her twist in the flames with that knowing, piratical smile on his face. He was going to wait... and make her say it.
And he knew that she would. Those searching dark eyes saw right through her, all the way down to the sweet, restless ache that pulsed inside her, where the wild woman waited, naked and willful and wanton. He knew perfectly well how much she wanted him.
She opened her mouth, praying that something coherent would come out. “What do you want, Seth?” she whispered.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “Take a wild guess.”
She closed her eyes and took the plunge. “Do you want... me?”
The silence was agonizing. She opened her eyes. The naked hunger in his face stole her breath.
He seized a wisp of her hair that had escaped from her knot, and twined it around his finger. It was so pale it seemed to glow against his hand. “Yes,” he said. “Can I have you?”
She gave him a short, jerky nod.
There. She'd done it. She was committed, and hurtling forward into the unknown. Her heart hammered in her chest. He was so brutally handsome. She wanted to stroke the harsh, elegant planes of his face, to soothe the pulsations of red-tinged, angry energy that she felt emanating from him. Splashes of scarlet, anger and blood flashed across her dazzled inner vision, like dream images. A prickle of unease mixed into the shimmering, giddy alchemy of her excitement. Danger.
It had to be a side effect of sexual arousal, she told herself. She would not let herself panic and run. She wanted this so badly.
He turned the key, shutting off the motor. “Take down your hair.”
She was glad for something to do with her trembling hands. She plucked the hair sticks out of the low chignon, slipped them into her pocket and let the coil of hair spring loose over her shoulders.
Seth gathered it into his hand and buried his face against the rippling mass. “Oh, God,” he said, in a harsh, muffled voice.
She let out a startled squeak as he seized her, hauling her up and over the plastic console that divided the seats, and onto his lap. His arms tightened around her trembling body, and he stared up into her eyes. As fierce and intent as if he could read her mind.
Maybe he could. She didn't care. She could hardly feel any more naked to him than she did now. She stared back into his eyes and wiggled against him, her legs dangling over the console. Loving the hard solidity of his body beneath her. She touched his chest tentatively with her fingertips, breath fluttering. His muscles were firm and springy. His heat scorched her. He had to be running a fever. His breath was as rapid as her own as she looped her arm behind his neck and delicately touched her lips to his.
Seth made a harsh sound deep in his throat, and his arms tightened around her with steely strength. That little butterfly kiss she had bestowed upon him was permission for the real kiss to begin, a hot, devouring kiss unlike any she had ever known or imagined. She fell into it headlong, intoxicated by his voracious energy, the taste and feel of him. He smelted so good—soap and leather and wool and a unique smell all his own, warm and slightly lemony. His jaw was scratchy and rough, his sensual mouth coaxed hers open. Eager, bold and delicious.
She wanted to writhe against him, crawl inside his skin, touch everything, taste everything. He was so strong, bursting with fierce energy, and she ached with hunger for it. His thick shaft pressed against her bottom, rock hard, radiating heat.
The calluses on his hand caught and snagged against her nylon stockings as he slid it slowly under the hem of her skirt. “I can feel your heat,” he said huskily. He eased her legs gently apart and his hand slid still higher, his fingertips brushing across the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.
She pressed her face against his neck, acutely aware of every feathery stroke against her thighs. The path of his gentle, questing fingers was traced with light and heat. A sudden burst of emotion made her clench her legs tightly, trapping his hand between them. “I think I'm burning up,” she whispered.
He wound his hand through her tangled hair again, tilting her face back and staring into her eyes.
“You want me,” he said. It was not a question.
Raine gave him a tiny nod, as much as her trapped hair would allow. He unwound her hair from his fingers, and his hand slid higher. He pushed her legs just wide enough so that the tip of his finger brushed against her most sensitive spot. The hot sunburst of sensation made her gasp and jerk in his arms.
He laughed at her shocked expression, trailing his fingertip tenderly in teasing little circles. His eyes were bright with challenge. “It's like putting my hand into a hot cloud,” he whispered. “You're already wet I can't wait to get these domes off of you.”
Her body betrayed her, quivering with eagerness. “Seth, this is going too fast for—”
“You love it.” He cut off her panicked protests with a fierce, marauding kiss and his hand slid boldly higher, cupping her whole sex. Touching her where no one had ever caressed her, not even during that terrible, botched episode with Frederick. His hand was slow and sure and wickedly clever, and his tongue thrust into her mouth as he stroked the pad of his thumb around her clitoris, tracing sensual, lazy circles through the fabric of her panties and nylons. She trembled in his arms, dazzled and lost.
A loud burst of male laughter rudely broke the spell, and they both jerked apart, startled. She stiffened, pulling away, and Seth cursed beneath his breath.
A group of men were walking towards the gate, smirking and catcalling. One of them made a thumbs-up sign at the car before they disappeared. She looked down at herself, appalled. Her hair was a tangled halo, her skirt bunched up around her waist, her face damp and hot, and probably cherry red. Legs wantonly spread, and his hand—touching her. Dear God, what was he thinking? What was
“Me neither, usually.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his rigid penis, clearly outlined against his
