Lucky Streak (8 page)

“We will!” Amber waved goodbye as she let Mike guide her to the door.

Mike scowled at her. She and his father would not be bonding anytime soon.

“Hey, I just want to know more about the curse,” Amber said, eyes twinkling.

Mike shut his eyes for a brief second and wondered what rabbit hole he'd fallen into when he'd married Amber Rose. And how he was going to climb out when she seemed intent on burrowing in.

 

A
MBER ALLOWED
M
IKE
the solitude of his thoughts again on the ride home.

More than he probably realized, she understood how he felt when he looked at his father and didn't get the response he desired. Although it wasn't Alzheimer's Mike was dealing with, it was probably mental illness or severe eccentricity. In any case, the resulting frustration was the same that she experienced.

But she'd liked Mike's father. And since he wasn't
her parent and the expectations weren't there, she could simply enjoy his company. After all, he was more of a presence than she'd ever have again from her own father. Maybe that was something she could teach Mike. A small gift, a way for him to appreciate what he did have in his parent.

For now, she settled for imparting empathy and understanding. As they pulled out of the driveway, she reached over and put her hand over Mike's.

He glanced at her in surprise. He said nothing, but he didn't pull away, something she took as a positive sign. Not that she believed she'd overcome any real hurdles, but she was glad she could be there for him anyway.

 

M
IKE WAS EXHAUSTED
, but his night wasn't over yet. His biggest challenge sat in his favorite recliner, making herself at home in his apartment.

If he didn't have to work tomorrow morning, he'd pour himself a drink.

“I've never held a skunk before,” Amber said.

“I bet not.”

“Your father's an interesting character.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Character's an interesting way to put it.”

“So tell me more about the curse that seems to drive everything he says and does.”

Mike groaned. “How about you tell me how you plan to pay me back all that money first.” He wasn't
mercenary. The money itself meant less to him than the fact that she'd left him and now he couldn't trust her.

She pursed her lips, cocked her head to one side and sighed. “Okay, but you first. What curse?”

He tried not to roll his eyes at something his father, uncles and an entire town took too damn seriously. “Legend says that an ancient witch by the name of Mary Perkins cursed the males in my family. Apparently one of my relatives ran off with a woman who was already engaged to another man, William Perkins. William's mother, Mary, was a witch—keep in mind, this was during the Salem witch trial era—and she cursed the males in the Corwin family line as a way of getting revenge.”

Amber leaned forward in her seat, revealing the ample cleavage he'd held in his hand. Tasted in his mouth.

Mike broke into a heated sweat.

“And what was that curse?” she asked, oblivious to his desire, enthralled instead by the story that had haunted his family for generations.

He could repeat it by heart. “Any Corwin male who falls in love will be destined to lose his love and his fortune.”

“Nasty curse,” Amber said.

“Yeah. Just because I had a horny relative, every male down the family line has suffered unimaginable pain and misfortune.” He shook his head.

“But your cousin Derek is married to a woman he loves now, right?” she asked.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Just how long
were
you standing there, listening to the conversation I had with my father?”

She waved her hand, dismissing the question. “Are they happily married?”

“So far…but my father's convinced Gabrielle miscarried because of the curse and he's been trying to protect them from future harm with his voodoo and hocus-pocus.”

“Then those
were
juju dolls I saw hanging from the trees by the house.”

Mike nodded, preferring not to go there. “Gabrielle is a famous author whose research dispels paranormal belief for a living. Ever hear of Gabrielle Donovan?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes! I've seen her books!”

“She's convinced Derek that all the family misfortune has been a combination of circumstance and coincidence. Frankly, I'm inclined to believe her, too. Now, does that answer all your questions?”

“It does,” she said, sounding surprised he'd leveled with her.

“Now, about my money…?”

She made a tsking sound. “You do have a one-track mind, don't you? I'm your wife, remember? What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine.” She
held up her hand and the big gaudy diamond flashed at him from across the room.

He hadn't realized she'd kept the ring, let alone continued to wear it.

Seeing it dangle on her finger again brought everything crashing back. The fun, the rush of excitement and most of all the desire he'd felt the moment he'd laid eyes on her. And their wedding night, something he hadn't been able to forget, no matter how angry he'd been.

That same desire had enveloped him from the moment he walked into his apartment and found her nearly naked on his bed, as well a yearning he'd been tamping down during the visit to his father's, watching her accept Edward as if he and his descented skunk were normal. He'd felt it again as she'd held his hand during the hour-long ride home in silent understanding.

“My wife?” he repeated her words.

She nodded. “Legally.”

He started toward her in a deliberately predatory way. “If you're going to insist on calling yourself my wife, I'm going to want something more from this marriage than the aggravation I've had so far.”

She met his gaze without backing down. “I think the time we spent in your hotel room was pretty darn good.” Her eyes widened. “I'd even call it aggravation free, if you ask me. Don't you agree?”

The memory of consummating their marriage
was potent and his body hardened at the reminder. It suddenly didn't matter that she'd betrayed him. He still wanted her as badly as that first time.

Wanting to make sure she understood his intentions, he stood over her chair, grasped the armrests and leaned over her, his lips inches from hers. Her warm, feminine scent tempted him, aroused him, drew him in.

“We have unresolved issues,” he said, staring into her beautiful blue eyes. “The money and the marriage.”

“I know we do. But you need to know I didn't want to leave you and I came back—”

He didn't let her finish, cutting off her words with his lips. She was his
wife
and she was willing and he kissed her hard and deep, branding her as his.

Amber kissed him back, but let Mike take charge. She wasn't going to pass up the chance to be with him again, to remind him how good they were together. To feel it for herself.

His large hands cupped her face and he tipped her head, giving his tongue better, deeper access to her mouth. He thoroughly claimed her, leaving no place untouched. All she could do was hold on to his shoulders and feel.

His hands slid from her face to her neck, his thumbs caressing her skin, tracing the line of her collarbone, his fingertips moving lower to the swell of her breasts beneath her T-shirt. He teased her with
his touch, dipping lower, but not quite touching where she needed it most. The throbbing tips of her nipples pressed harder against her shirt, begging for him, while moisture trickled between her legs, building an empty, aching pressure only he could fill.

She arched her back, silently imploring him to stop teasing her with featherlight strokes of his hands on her breasts.

He raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice gruff. “You need to tell me.”

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, desire swamping her, yet not fulfilling her needs. “You. I want you.”

“I want you, too,” he said, not sounding at all pleased with he admission.

“And it makes you angry that you do.”

A muscle ticked on the side of his face. “That about sums it up.”

She knew it would take time for him to believe in her again and that was okay. That he still wanted her was enough. It gave her something to work with.

“One step at a time,” she told him, referring to their relationship. “Then you'll see how good things between us can be.”

Never breaking eye contact, she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Over her shirt and through her thin bra, his touch burned and aroused her, but she was more concerned with breaking through his
self-directed anger. He wanted her and was furious with himself for it.

“One step at a time. Starting here and now,” she said, encouraging him.

He curled his hand tighter around her breast. She felt her nipple tighten, turn rigid against his palm. Unable to control her reaction, a low moan of satisfaction rumbled from deep inside her. She watched the fight he waged within himself and she saw the minute he lost the battle.

The angry tension in him eased. He kissed her again, more gently, more accepting, yet still demanding in intensity. She shifted her body and his hips settled around hers, the hard length of him fitting directly between her thighs. The thick, bulging pressure hit her at exactly the right point and she moaned aloud.

His hands cupped and molded her breasts while, attuned to her other needs, he rocked against her, each thrust of his body bringing her higher and closer to a fast-coming climax. She needed to feel him harder against her and bent her knees, seeking more intimate contact.

Without warning, the chair tipped back and Mike lost his balance, nearly toppling over her and onto the floor.

“Oh my God, that scared me half to death,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Mike drew a deep breath, still trying to calm his
twisting stomach. “Too damn close to a roller coaster for my peace of mind.”

She met his gaze. And laughed.

They'd been both caught off guard and the shock of being jolted back by the recliner interrupted the moment, yet it sent her into a fit of laughter.

He began laughing, too.

He couldn't remember the last time a makeout session had turned into something fun. Amber, her blue eyes dancing, her curls a mess around her face, gave the most normal things a unique spin.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Too funny. I thought for sure you were doing a header over the chair.”

“With our combined weight, I'm surprised I didn't.”

“Mike?” she asked, no longer laughing.

He stood beside her. “Yeah?”

“You left me hanging. You?”

He shook his head and grinned. “Yeah, I'm a little unsatisfied myself.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom where he had protection stashed in the back of one of his drawers.

He lowered her to her feet by the side of the bed, which was still—stupidly—covered in cold hard cash. He began to scoop it up and toss it into a bag, trying like hell not remember that she'd walked out on him. At least, not now, while his body still throbbed with need. Finally he finished and placed
the bag aside. He'd organize it and take it to the bank first thing in the morning.

He turned back to Amber and discovered she'd undressed. And Amber nude was enough to make him forget all his misgivings.

He couldn't draw his gaze from her rounded curves and incredible beauty. With her damp lips and tousled hair, she looked like sex personified. It took him only an instant to shed his clothes, grab and roll on a condom and meet her in the center of his bed.

He laid back against the pillows and let her take control, which she seemed only too happy to do. She swung one leg over him and while holding his hands and staring into this eyes, she lowered herself over him.

She was dewy and wet, ready for him. Her body accepted him, inch by hot inch. He lay still, letting her set the pace. And though he wanted to take it slow, savor how tight she was around him, he needed to feel more of her and he thrust upward until they were joined together in the deepest possible way.

The sensations quivered throughout his entire body and he let out a low groan. “You feel so damn good.”

Her eyes were wide and heavily glazed as she managed a nod. Her hips began to rotate, clenching him tighter in her heat. Her eyelids fluttered closed. As he thrust in and out again, she picked up a familiar rhythm. One that belonged to them alone.

He had a second to realize that sober sex with Amber was a helluva a lot different from the last night they'd spent together. Hotter. More intimate.

And then his body couldn't wait and he began to push upward, inside her, searching, reaching higher. Thought fled. Only feeling mattered.