Nikki (16 page)

“But,” Nikki protested, directing a curdlingly sweet look at Mrs. Cole, “if you don’t want him to break his other engagement, I wouldn’t think of intruding.”

“There’s Daddy!” Val cried.

Dolores nodded, gave Nikki an anxious glance. “I expect we’d better get out there.”

“I’ve been thinking about that shopping I have to do,” Nikki told Dolores, giving her a quick wink. “There’s never any telling how long it’ll take. So I’ll just take a cab home. Instead of you or Jim having to bother to pick me up.”

‘Well, all right, if you’re sure, honey. But just phone if you’d rather we pick you up.”

Dolores and the kids got away after hasty farewells.

“It’s been
so
nice, Mrs. Cole,” Nikki said sweetly. “And, Archer, thank you for the golf invitation, but some other time, h’m?”

She got away from them, moving as though she were going somewhere, and not looking back. She hadn’t given Archer any sly, conspiratorial glance on parting and she had the distinct impression that the mama watchdog was lulled. Nikki wandered around in an unanchored anything-can-happen mood for a half hour; window shopping, moving in and out of stores.

She went over to the parking area, idly speculating on the sort of car he’d be driving; one of those sit-on-the-floor low-down powerful foreign sporters, she imagined. One of them was backing out now, she saw with a faint quickening, then shrugged, seeing that it was being driven by a leathery looking blonde female. She blinked, genuinely startled, as a horn tooted and the near door of a large pastel two-tone sedan opened almost in front of her. Archer Cole leaned, grinning, across the seat. It didn’t occur to her not to get in.

“Finished shopping?” he said as she settled herself, empty-handed.

“Finished with Mama and the groceries?” she said tartly.

He gave her a lazy grin. “Mother took to you, too.”

“We seemed to understand each other right away.”

“She couldn’t stop talking about you. She wonders how long you’re going to be around town.”

“A good long time.”

He nodded gravely. “She’ll be excited to hear about that. She’ll want to plan all sorts of things for you. I told her there were laws about such things, but …” He turned up one hand. “It’s just her irresistible way. She’s warm and gay and brutal!”

“Warm and gay and brutal!” Nikki cried, laughing. “Oh, that’s good.”

He laughed and she loved the sound of it, rolling and rich and male. When he braked slowly at a stoplight, drawing the fine long bands of his thigh muscles taut against the clean brown skin of his strong legs, she found herself drawing a long slow breath and looking away. The car moved and picked up speed. He didn’t say anything more, and she couldn’t think of anything to say. She could feel his frequent glances at her, and the silence somehow needed breaking. She frowned, cleared her throat, shifted a little on the seat.

“You know the way to Dolores’s?”

“M’m h’m.”

“The turnoff,” she began, then wet her lips. “The turnoff isn’t very far from here.”

“You know, you’ve got the prettiest toes I ever saw.”

She crossed her ankles, feeling a sudden, silly impulse to hide her feet.

“I think the turnoff’s right up there,” she said, trying to sound casual, and knowing she was failing. “You’d better get in the outside lane. Slow down, because there it is.”

“Was.”

She sat back, her heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Archer!” she said sharply.

“Yes, pet?” he said crooningly. “What does my sweet doll baby want?”

In spite of herself, she grinned.

He gazed over at her, laughing softly. “You like that sweet talk, don’t you?”

“You’re taking too much for granted. Don’t!”

He’d reached over and put his hand fondlingly on her knees. She swung her legs away, pushed at his hand. It came again, cupping warmly over the round of one thigh.

“You’re like silk,” he said. He stroked, then settled his hand back on the wheel.

She found herself sucking her stomach muscles in tightly and sitting tensely erect on the seat, but waves of sexual sensation kept surging through her for several seconds. She bit her inner cheek, hurting herself. Instead of bringing her back into control of herself, the pain actually intensified her desire, and she suddenly felt ashamed and a little frightened.

He was maneuvering into an outside lane, slowing. She fixed her attention on the landscape as he drove along a secondary road. He turned into a narrower road, and after a half mile he crawled the car along the unpaved ruts of a little roadway leading into a woods.

“Stop and back up, Archer,” she said firmly.

He kept driving. The road turned gradually, and after a hundred yards the entrance was out of sight behind them. Presently the ruts ended against a large rock. He cut the engine, pointed a forefinger at the windshield.

“There’s a path there; leads down to the ocean,” he said, and added in the same casual tone, “I could eat you with a spoon.” His body, half-turned on the seat, toppled toward her and his open mouth settled on her legs. With a sharp, half-angry little cry Nikki thrust a hand against his head, at the same time unlatching the door. When she turned to scramble out, his hands circled around her throat, and he kissed her neck from behind.

“No!” she said, prying at his fingers. “No!”

He released her and got out of the car and swung the door shut. She heard him laugh joyously, as if it were a delightful game, as she hurried toward the rear of the car.

She headed for the road, hearing him get out of the car and slam the door. She turned and faced him, her green eyes flashing.

“I said no; I mean no. Now, if you’re not going to get in that car and take me home, I’m leaving.”

He kept advancing, a grin on his face. Nikki spun around and set out. She was damned if she’d run, but she stretched her legs and kept her pace quick. There was no sound of his running and she flicked a hasty back glance toward him to see those strong legs of his eating away the distance.

Nikki suddenly spurted into a run and an instant later she could hear the racing thud of his steps. With a sudden sense of panic she knew he might seize her at any instant. Then she knew he was right at her heels, just running along with her and making no effort to stop her.

“Gosh,” he called, “what a delicious little tail you’ve got.” A few steps later he called, “That gets me, that running away; that gets me, you beautiful doll.”

He seized her, spun her and yanked her joltingly against his body. He grinned down at her, his mouth open and panting, his eyes bright. Nikki kicked his shin and cried out, having hurt her toe.

“Hurt that pretty little foot of yours, baby? I’ll kiss it.”

“I’ll hurt
you
, Archer!” she warned.

He held her tight against him and tried to kiss her mouth. She shut her eyes and shook her head violently from side to side, and at the same time pulled and twisted her body. To keep his balance he had to spread his feet, and she started furiously to drive her knee up. She stopped herself.

“Please,” she said, “stop!”

He released her, holding onto her shirtfront with one fist. “I can’t stop now, baby. I can’t stop now.” He began unbuttoning her shirt. He exposed her bra, then pulled down one bra strap and bared her breast. His hand stroked lovingly over it. “I just want to love you, baby, love you, love you.”

Nikki clamped her fingers around his wrist, shaking her head, trying to pull his hand away. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Archer! I’m getting mad.”

“You promised. Everything about you promised.”

“Take your hand off me. I like you, Archer, but don’t get me mean.” She looked up at him pleadingly. “I’m strong and I know dirty tricks, and I’m bitchy if you get me mean. Please!”

His smile strained and there was a little cloud of uncertainty in his eyes and his hand began to glide free of her breast. She gave him a cuttingly contemptuous look. Abruptly he caught her nipple between thumb and forefinger and pinched. For an instant the pain was agony, and her eyes flooded. He eased the pressure, then pinched harder. He tugged, keeping the pincer hold.

“Come to me,” he ordered. “Move soft and nice, baby!”

She could feel a shaky weakness in her thighs and an exquisite sensation in her lower stomach. She took a tiny step toward him and stared up with a submissive dullness about her eyes, a soft slackness to her parted lips. There was a hard, thrilling quality about him, a towering mastery. She found her fingers stroking softly at the punishing, commanding hand torturing her breast, and she came closer and closer, with dainty little steps.

When her body was yielded and softly arching against the forceful power of his, she dropped her head back and opened her lips to him, closing her eyes. Then his mouth was fastened on hers, his tongue penetrating rapidly, and she could feel the final delicious mindless surrendering of her body and senses and her total will. She wanted to moan with animal joy, and she didn’t mean to do it, she didn’t mean to do it … but she caught his underlip in her teeth.

He gave a hoarse, startled cry and his head jerked back reflexively, and he gave another cry of pain. Nikki realized her teeth were almost embedded, and eased her bite. But she held on. She looked up into his eyes and saw that he was glaring.

“Let loose!”

Nikki nipped gently, making him wince, then harder. “Ouch!” he said. A gurgling sound of laughter came out of her throat.

“You’ll break the skin,” he protested. “You’ll mark me.”

She nipped again. “Baby! Cry baby!”

“Let go!”

“Lift me up.” She guided his hands to her bottom.

Angrily, he pulled his hands away. Nikki put her arms up around his neck, nipped him teasingly again. “Do what I say!”

He made a grumbling sound, but a moment later he made a saddle of his hands on her bottom and hoisted her, pressed hard against his body.

“Higher,” she ordered.

When he obeyed, she opened her legs and got a scissors grip around his waist, locking her ankles behind him.

“Walk someplace,” she ordered.

“Where?”

“A private place.
You
know.”

“I don’t want you.”

She nipped threateningly and hammered her heels against his rump. “Move!”

Slowly, clumsily he began to walk, carrying her unwillingly. He stopped in a grassy place off the roadway.

She swung her legs free and let her feet drop to the ground. She kept her bite, now and then moving her teeth with tiny threats, and held him bent uncomfortably forward, his face above her stormy.

“Undress me,” she commanded.

He swore. He seized her painfully around the waist.

“Hurt me,” she warned, “and I’ll bite clear through. Now, get the fight out of those hands and use them the way I told you to.”

The feel of his hands, trembling, not with suppressed desire, but suppressed rage, as they unwillingly but obediently finished unbuttoning her shirt, filled her with an exultance so powerful that it brought every fiber of her slim, sexy young body gloriously alive.

She moved her supple, high-arched feet apart, rose on tiptoe, stretched her stomach and arching back muscles, and raised her arms high and spread her fingers. He pulled her arms down and pushed the shirt back off her shoulders. She drew her shoulders back and let the shirt drop, brushing her high-rounded calves and lifted narrow pink heels. Her firm, conical young breasts shone with a dazzling white nakedness, the soft flesh tremulous, the winey aureoles suffused, the nipples thrusting outward. His hands refused to caress as they unbuttoned and unzippered her shorts.

He worked the bright red shorts downward roughly, and she could feel the cool breath of outside air in the warm oval cup of her navel and in the circular dimple cups on her lower back. Then there was a moment of fleeting humiliation and pleasure combined as her buttocks were exposed. When her shorts fell around her ankles, something in her waited breathlessly for the
crack
of violence and ecstasy, and she stepped her feet up and down very slowly, holding her knees together and rubbing her thighs sensually, while her vivid green eyes stared up at him. She released her painful bite on his lip and waited. He put his hand to his mouth and looked sulkily away.

She hugged him around the waist from behind and, before he knew what she was doing, unbuckled his belt and yanked his shorts down. She danced back away from him and looked delightedly at his fine body, a soft, rolling little gurgle coming from her throat.

“I don’t want you.” He glared at her.

She moved close to him and, keeping her body in constant contact with his flesh, she walked completely around him, the while turning her own body so that she could feel the exciting slow friction of her back and belly and thigh and breast rubbing like a cat against him. He began to want her, want her passionately, and the fact suddenly outraged him. He stepped away, swung his open palm, and slapped the side of her head so hard she fell.

She sprawled on one hip and flung a wild look over her shoulder to see him coming at her. She started to crawl away, but he landed on her back, flattening her. He jerked her over on her back and was about to swing his fist. Nikki flattened her face against his chest, laced her arms around his back and clung, locking her upper body to his.

She felt herself being moved into position and she began to croon, “Lover … lover” as he began to use her, at his will, carrying her body into his rhythm, slowly and exquisitely at first, and then more swiftly, artfully building her tension to a higher and higher pitch of craving and then ecstasy.

They dressed in silence, went to the car in silence. She sat across the seat from him, watched smolderingly as he lit a cigarette for himself, put away the pack without offering her one.

“You’re so petty,” she said scornfully.

“You’re such a
gentle
creature.”

He reached the pack across without looking at her. Nikki snatched it, threw it past his face out the window. Imperturbably he started the car, began the tedious backing and filling for the turnaround. Nikki turned, swung her legs up onto his. She grinned sardonically, raised one foot to his face and said with a curdling babyishness, “You hurt my foot. See the bruises?”