Million Dollar Mistake (18 page)

Head tilted, she drawled, “Darling, you’d be lucky to have your watch left after I wipe the table with you.”

“Big talk. Want to put your little black dress where your mouth is?”

“No.”

“Afraid?” he taunted.

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure?”

“The reason I’m not willing to participate is more basic than that.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he said, knowing his tone would annoy the hell out of her.

“Strip games of chance are
so yesterday.
”

Nicholas laughed. “Great excuse for copping out because you’re afraid.”

“No, I’m fashionable. That’s a different thing.”

“Our cousin Darcy fell in love during a game of strip poker.”

“I don’t intent to repeat his mistake.”

Nicholas grabbed her arm. “And yet you offered a game to Jackson.”

She shrugged off his arm instead of answering, did a half-turn and marched around the pool table to line up a better shot. “Are we going to play or talk all night?”

Nicholas sent her a wolfish smile. “I thought we
were
playing, sweetheart.”

Raven almost growled as she drew back to slam her stick against the white cue ball, which responded by galloping down the table and crashing into three other balls causing them to whirl off in all directions but the one direction they were supposed to go. Raven remained hunched over the table as if in pain before straightening to send him a warning look.

Ducking his head to hide a grin, Nicholas murmured, “Nice shot.”

Raven curled her lip at him and then practically flounced away from the table, heading straight for the liquor cabinet in the far corner of the room.

Watching her, Nicholas called, “I could use a refill.”

She ignored him, taking a small bottle of chilled water from the fridge and guzzling it straight down before she turned back to look at him.

“Or water would be good, too,” Nicholas said, grinning before bending over the table and calculating his angles to make his shot with his customary panache. The ball disappeared into the pocket. After a quick glance at Raven who was sauntering toward him with her hips rolling in a sensuous movement guaranteed to send blood away from his brain, he shot again, wincing as the next ball missed the pocket by a cat’s whisker.

“Oh, too bad,” Raven commented, slapping a bottle of water into his hand as he straightened.

He tucked his stick under his arm and removed the cap. Taking a big gulp, he challenged, “Next time.”

Raven leaned over until her ripe lips were touching his ear. “We’ll see about that, darling.”

The game was on, with both taking their time, using all their skill and discipline to win.

Much later, they were coming down to the final shots. The game was neck and neck.

“Red in the far right pocket,” Raven announced, surveying the remaining balls on the table as she calculated angles and lined up her shot.

Nicholas studied the shot. “A bit cocky, aren’t you?”

“Confident. A little number-one fact of my own,” Raven said, her grin pure recklessness.

“Five bucks says you don’t make it,” he challenged back.

“That’s all you can afford?” Raven teased. “Wouldn’t you like to up the stakes?”

Nicholas studied her. “What have you got in mind?”

“All or nothing.” Raven threw the words down like a challenge.
 

“Like the game you were playing tonight?” Nicholas asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes narrowed. “Jackson.”

“Lorianne,” she snapped back.

He ran his finger over his top lip. “Ah, Lorianne.”

When he said no more, she finally asked, “What’s up with you and that little blonde? I thought you let that stupid flirting idea go before you left the barn.”

“I did.”

“Didn’t look like it.”

“Darling.” Nicholas smiled. “I do believe you’re jealous.”

“Of what? Of you?” Raven pushed her hair back. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh yes, that’s usually a role the men in your life play, isn’t it?” He offered a look that managed to be disappointed, accusing and amused all at the same time.

Raven stabbed her finger at him. “You’re a fine one to talk. You haven’t been living like a monk.”

Nicholas grinned. “There might have been a few—”

“Blondes. In the past, you were partial to blondes.”

“Maybe that’s why I find Lorianne so delightful.”

Raven stared at him for a moment. Then she leaned close to him. “Did you want to kiss her, Nicholas? You looked very attentive. Did she pout her lips and tease you until you wanted to break?”

He said nothing, just looked at her with an impassive expression on his face. At least he hoped so. With her alluring mouth so close, his juices were starting to stir.

She leaned even closer, bringing her lips against his as she nipped his bottom lip then withdrew an inch. “Can she make your blood boil like I can?”

“What makes you think you can make my blood boil?” he asked, hardly hearing the words because of the roar in his ears.

“Because of what happens when I do this.” She threw her pool stick to the floor, rose on her tiptoes to slip her arms around his neck and kissed him. What started as a teasing gesture on her part quickly turned into something else as he pulled her against him, sliding his palms down her back to cup her buttocks, pulling her up to press against his growing erection.

Raven freed her mouth long enough to say, “This is only a demonstration not a—”

“Shut up,” Nicholas replied, tilting his head to slant his mouth across hers. His tongue teased her lips, opening them as if he was the only man who had the key.

His lips met hers, sinking into the velvet of them, letting the feel of them soothe him even as they excited his senses. He felt as if he was rounding third and coming home. Here, now with Raven in his arms, with her lips caressing his, with her tongue tangling hotly in his mouth, he lost control. He dropped his guard and just felt, let himself live in the moment. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow, there was only now and—

“Raven,” he groaned as he pulled her tighter, swinging around to lift her so she sat on the polished cherry ledge of the pool table. He stepped forward, nudging her legs apart until he pressed against her. With a gasp, Raven spread her legs wider then rocked forward against him to clasp her legs around his hips. He fit there as if he’d been born to do so. Just as his hands were born to caress her, he thought, as he slid them up her back and into her hair to hold her head still for his deepening kiss.

It wasn’t enough.

Lips, tongue and emotions plunging, he removed the soft cashmere cardigan she wore. His hands returned to caress the warm satin of her skin as he slid them over her shoulders. He drew back and looked at her, taking in her tousled hair wound into wild curls by his restless fingers, her flushed cheeks, her hot swollen mouth and eyes stunned with surprise, dreamy with secrets and clouded with desire. The heart-shaped bodice of the little black dress molded lovingly to her breasts, held there by gravity and the slender straps that caressed her shoulders, straps that his fingers toyed with before sliding underneath.

“Do you own any clothes that aren’t sexy as hell?” he breathed in complete wonder.

She focused on him for a moment, eyes suddenly glinting with humor, voice husky with arousal. “Scooby-Doo flannel PJs.”

“Even that doesn’t deter me.” He smiled back as he slipped her straps off her shoulders and followed them down her arms. His gaze shifted to the neckline of her dress as it dipped low, the black jersey practically begging to continue its fall. His fingertips traced the edge of material, meeting in the center cleavage, that mysterious shadow hinting at hidden delight. He bent his head and traced the neckline with his tongue as his hands came up to her breasts. Raven stirred under his touch, pushing forward to spill over his cupped hands. He rubbed his knuckles over her hard nipples and she moaned. The moan did it. He snapped, leftover edges of control were gone as he pulled her dress to her waist and replaced his knuckles with his mouth.

“I could get drunk on the taste of you,” he murmured, laving first and then pulling her nipple into his mouth to suck as his fingers continued to arouse her.

She pulled his shirt from his waistband, unbuttoning it until she could slide her hands beneath. Her hands explored his chest, fingered his nipples, then continued down to his waistline, slipping under his belt to plunge into his trousers, where his taut muscles hardened into iron strings of steel in response.

He moved one hand and followed her example, easing under her dress to caress her leg as he continued his almost-frantic search for satisfaction. His fingers found lace; soft, exotic lace which edged the miniscule bit of silk that was all that stood between him and her ecstasy.

His other hand caressed her breasts as his fingers continued their quest, teasing, tempting, tormenting until Raven moaned again and bucked against his hips. Pulling him closer, frantic herself, she levered off the ledge and leaned back until she was almost lying on the smooth green felt with him on top of her.

He positioned himself over her, lifted his head and took her lips again as he cupped her, the palm of his hand pressing against her mound, fingers seeking—hard and relentless, he continued until she crested in shudders against his palm, moaning into his mouth in her excitement. Intending to replace his hand with his body, he moved abruptly, his elbow knocking into a ball, sending it sailing to crash against the bumper edge of the table before bouncing back to hit him in the temple.

“What the—”

His confusion was complete as he lifted his head trying to make sense of the interruption. As his eyes collided with dark green felt now graced with the black, white and red-hot sensuality of Raven, he jerked, rising up on his elbows to stare down in horror.

“Good God…”

Raven’s eyes opened slowly, gradually regaining some insight into where she was—and with whom.

“Raven—” Nicholas said, stopping as he looked around and realized what had almost happened. He sent the door a swift glance, relieved to see it was shut tight.

Raven, still emerging from the mind-blowing power of her orgasm just stared up at him. “Hmm.”

“I’m… I don’t know what to say,” he said, levering himself off her and the table and reaching to pull her to a seated position.

Reality was beginning to reassert itself as Raven stared at Nicholas’s apologetic face. “What?”

“It was a mistake. I didn’t think. I just reacted.”

“A mistake?” She glanced down, stunned to see her dress was around her waist and a pool table lay beneath her still-quivering body.

“Yes. I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t…” It was taking a few minutes for her to catch up to him, but she was rapidly getting there. Gasping, she yanked her bodice up to cover her breasts, slapping his hands away as he tried to help. “Don’t.”

Oh damnit to hell,
Raven thought
, I climaxed. I climaxed against him. Against Nicholas. Against the man I never want to see again in my life.
Raven kept her head down, pretending to make herself presentable.
I can’t face him. I can’t look up
. She could pretend she was four years old again and hiding in the closet amongst Mommy’s clothes, thinking no one could see her.

“I never should have agreed to—look, Raven, there’s no excuse for my behavior. I’m so…”

His voice, that deep southern drawl that made women want to spread their legs and whistle
Dixie
in surrender flowed from his lips. He continued to apologize until all the power and sweetness of her coming froze inside her. She could feel ice crystals forming in her heart to replace the heat of her emotions a few moments before. How could she face him? Pride finally came to her rescue and she looked up. He looked distressed. And, she was glad to see—still turned on and frustrated as hell, even as he expressed his regret. Raven summoned all of her acting abilities and managed a sophisticated shrug before saying in a light, bored tone—

“No problem, darling. I’m just sorry it wasn’t good for you”—she leaned forward and nipped his bottom lip with her teeth before leaning back to say— “because it certainly was for me.” Her effort was rewarded when he stood as if turned to stone. “Now help me down before someone discovers what we’ve been up to.”

Automatically, he helped her off the table, before leaning over to pick up her sweater from the floor. She took it and draped it over her shoulders before saying, “Thanks, darling.”

Then she turned, grasped a pool ball in her hand and rolled it against the remaining ball on the table. The ball hit and the striped ball raced toward the pocket, dropping down with a swish. Raven straightened and looked back over her shoulder. “My game, I believe.”

Then using every bit of skill she possessed, she turned and sauntered toward the door. She glanced back at Nicholas, still standing at the pool table. Her voice dropped to a husky growl, “I really enjoyed playing with you, Nicholas. Perhaps we can do it again some time.”