Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)(119)

Nicolas shrugged, in no way perturbed. “We had a good visit.” He crouched down beside the edge of the pool and offered her a glass of strawberry lemonade. It was an enticement, pure and simple. Dahlia loved the drink, and he knew she’d eventually swim to the side of the pool and he would be able to devour the sight of her body gliding through the water, her breasts floating free and the occasional inviting temptation of her feminine channel flashing at him as she swam around first. She loved the water and spent a great deal of time swimming naked in the pool.

Sometimes he enjoyed just sitting in a chair watching her swim, his body reacting with a hard, painful ache he knew he could assuage at any time.

“Is this a trap?” she asked warily, eyeing the frosted glass.

“Could be.” He didn’t bother to hide his body’s reaction to her. He was hard and thick and throbbing with an urgent desire. But he enjoyed wanting her. He loved what she did to his body, bringing him such complete pleasure. It never mattered where they were or what they were doing, she could move a certain way and the air between them crackled with sexual tension instantly.

Her fascinating mouth curved into a small, enticing smile. “Really? I do so love your little traps. I’ve been here nearly two weeks.”

“Yes, my prisoner. I’ve got you where I want you.” He took a sip of the strawberry lemonade and ran his tongue over his bottom lip to catch every drop. “And I don’t intend to let you go.”

“That’s so not fair! You know I’m addicted to that lemonade.”

“It’s ice-cold, just the way you like it too,” he tempted her. He took another slow swallow, allowed icy droplets that beaded on the glass to run down his skin. Her gaze followed the small drops, her black eyes suddenly blazing with heat.

“You know what I think?” she asked. “I think you’re trying to make me forget I’ve been living in your house for nearly two weeks and doing nothing but playing.” She ran to her heart’s content, all along the small narrow paths winding through the mountainous property. She spent hours swimming in the pool, feeling incredibly decadent. They worked out together in his gym and sparred in his dojo. And they made love everywhere. Wherever he wanted, or she wanted. Or when emotions were so intense they had to be indulged. Sometimes it was a dark and ravenous hunger and sometimes it was unbearably tender and gentle.

“I think you’re right,” he acknowledged without the least bit of remorse. “You’ve been so worried you couldn’t have a life with me, but here you are and we’ve done fine.”

She laughed. The sound pleased him, turning him inside out, the way it always did. The air crackled. He could hear the sound mingle with her laugh, and the urge in him to have her under him, crying out his name, grew stronger. They found they fed each other sexual energy and they learned to allow it to flow over them and through them without fighting it. Utilizing it. Enjoying it.

“I think you’re leading me somewhere, Nicolas.”

“Are you accusing me of having ulterior motives?”

Dahlia swam closer. The tips of her breasts swayed enticingly. She looked like an exotic water nymph to him, a siren calling continually. Nicolas loved to answer the call. She was calling to him now, with every movement of her body. Dahlia wasn’t shy, and she wasn’t in the least inhibited about lovemaking. She enjoyed his body every bit as much as he enjoyed hers and she let him know.

He set the glass on the edge of the pool, just out of her reach. She took the bait, holding out a hand to him so he could pull her out of the water. It poured off her body, leaving behind little beads. She lay on her stomach on the thick mat he always left out for her to sun on, reaching for her drink. The action stretched her body, gave him a pleasant view of the round side of her breast and a perfect view of the inviting curve of her bottom. He leaned down lazily and lapped at the water pooling in the small of her back. His hand wandered over the feminine slope of her bottom.

Dahlia smiled. “I love this lemonade.” She shivered under his touch. His tongue dipped into the dimples on her back, his mouth wandered lower. “Hey!” It was a half-hearted protest as his teeth nipped, but she lay still, absorbing the feel of his mouth and hands as he leisurely explored her body, his teeth giving little love bites and his tongue licking along her skin. She closed her eyes and laid her head on her arm, fingers curled around the glass of lemonade.

Nicolas massaged her legs, his fingers kneading her muscles. The sun beat down on her body and the wind touched her gently, adding to the bliss of the moment.

“Turn over, kiciciyapi mitawa.” Nicolas’s voice had the husky note in it, the one she was so familiar with when he called her his heart. That single note could turn her entire body to instant liquid heat.

She kept her eyes closed. “If I turn over, you’re going to have your wicked way with me. I rather like lying here, knowing how much you want me.”

He leaned over her, kissed the nape of her neck, blazed a trail of kisses along her spine. “I’m going to have my wicked way with you no matter what.”

“Are you now?” She shifted, a slow, lazy roll over with his body over hers so that her skin rubbed against his skin. The ache in her breasts grew. The throbbing between her legs became more insistent. His shoulders were wide, blocking out the sun, his eyes black with hunger. She traced his strong jaw with loving fingers. “I have no say in this at all?”