Wicked & Willing: Bad Girls (6 page)

He leaned closer. “I understand.” Then, to her further
surprise, he continued. “You’re not alone, Venus. I’m going to help you.”

A
N HOUR LATER
, while taking a long shower that did nothing to cool his overheated skin, Troy still couldn’t believe he’d offered to help Venus.

“Help her do what?” he muttered as he reached out to turn the spray from lukewarm to cool. He know what he
really
wanted to help her do.

Have a whole bunch of screaming orgasms.

But that was out. No screaming orgasms loomed in the future for either one of them. Not even here in a large, dual-headed shower where he probably should have blown off some sexual steam before he saw the beautiful redhead again.

Troy didn’t want to blow off steam with his hand. He wanted to create some serious steam…with her.

Why he wanted her so much, he really couldn’t say. She was amazing to look at, sure, but he interacted with attractive women all the time. And for the past three months, none of them had come close to luring him out of his unintentional celibacy. Venus had done it with a flick of her ankle as she tapped her shoe into the air on the balcony.

His suspicions about her should have tamped down on the desire. They hadn’t. The fact that she was a mystery—a cocky, confident mystery—had only added to the instant heat he’d felt when he first laid eyes on her.

Well, not entirely confident. Obviously the woman’s self-confidence had taken a real hit when she’d arrived here at Max’s home. In the library, when he’d attempted to look at it from her point of view, he’d felt for her. Not that Max would care—if she really were his granddaugh
ter, he wouldn’t give a damn whether she fit into his world or not.

Venus, however, quite obviously cared. It couldn’t have been easy for a proud woman to admit she couldn’t handle the situation in which she found herself. The confusion and hint of fear in her eyes had affected him more deeply than he’d ever have imagined possible. He saw a hint of vulnerability in her which she’d probably never admit to having.

And, to be honest, he admired her. She didn’t seem at all bitter, despite the bits and pieces he’d managed to glean about her life. She’d been orphaned, raised in foster care and had had to fight for every single thing she got. Yet it hadn’t made her greedy or grasping, nor had it made her resentful. She had a genuine smile and an infectious laugh. Her smart mouth was buoyed by an innate sense of humor that said she didn’t take anything too seriously.

Completely unlike him.

Troy was well used to being around money. He, more than anyone, knew he’d been incredibly fortunate to have always been part of a wealthy lifestyle. Still, he liked to think it hadn’t ruined him. He might have a reputation as a playboy at night, but fifty-hour workweeks had been a part of his life for the past several years. He didn’t mind hard work though, since he had never aspired to be a useless rich guy with fast cars, fast women and no ambition.

He also liked to think he could do exactly what his twin had—make it completely on his own, without a penny of Langtree money. Though until recently his paychecks had come from a family-owned business, that’s essentially what he’d done. His salary had certainly been in line with any other retail executive, and it had sup
ported him just fine. He wore nice clothes because he liked them and got them at a discount. He drove a Jaguar because he enjoyed going fast. Otherwise, he was pretty conservative with his money.

Not, he imagined, that Venus Messina would believe it.

Whatever she believed, she had to know he was in a position to help her deal with her new surroundings. If Leo’s claims proved true, if she really was Max’s granddaughter, she’d have to deal with them for the rest of her life.

Tending bar at a Baltimore pub was a long way from interacting with the elite of Atlanta. She was right—she’d be crucified the minute she attended her first social function. Not by Max, of course. If Venus really turned out to be his son’s daughter, Max wouldn’t care if the woman got up and danced the limbo on the bar at the country club.

“She won’t, though,” he muttered as he rinsed his hair. Because Troy had said he’d help her and that’s exactly what he intended to do. At least until he found out for sure what she was up to. Until then, helping her learn to fit in would be the perfect excuse to keep her within his sight and try to make sure Max didn’t get hurt. The tricky part would be keeping her in his sight…but out of his arms and out of his bed.

Which was exactly where he most wanted her to be.

She was funny and beautiful. Irreverent and bawdy. But at some moments so damned vulnerable, he wanted to just take her in his arms and hold her. Pretty unbelievable for Troy Langtree, whose own twin had on occasion called him a louse when it came to women.

Twisting the knob close to ice-cold, he let a jet of frigid water cascade down his body, then turned the shower
off. After opening the glass door, he stepped out onto the mat, then reached for a towel he’d dropped on the counter earlier. Before he could take another step toward it, however, he realized he had company.

Venus.

Standing just a few feet away, inside the bathroom, she froze, just as he did. Their eyes met, their stares held. They both sucked in their breath and held it. Each stunned. Each unsure what would come next.

Troy noted the shock on her face. He didn’t imagine Venus Messina was shocked by much. Now, though, her wide eyes and gaping mouth said his presence had taken her by surprise.

“Ever hear of knocking?” he asked in a lazy drawl, making no effort to grab the towel. Hell, if she wanted to stand there staring at his naked body, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he’d accommodate her.

She wore only a fluffy towel sarong style, that barely covered all the essentials. Her hair was piled loosely on her head, with a few long, tempting curls hanging loose. In one hand she held a small bottle of bath oil and a paperback book. Her other hand was pressed flat against her heart, the bright red tips of her long nails stark against the white terrycloth and her smooth, creamy skin.

Her eyes remained wide and appraising. Without so much as an apology, an embarrassed explanation, and certainly not a quick exit, she moved her gaze over his body, head to toe. Even from here he could see the strong, fast pulse in her neck and the rush of color on her face. Her every deeply inhaled breath loosened the towel she wore. His heart skipped a beat, as he wondered if the loose knot would give way, revealing her body to his hungry gaze, as his was to her.

On someone shorter, the towel might have done an adequate job of covering the critical parts of a woman’s body. On Venus, it barely concealed the tips of her lush breasts, showing deep cleavage and creamy smooth skin. The tight shirt she’d worn earlier hadn’t done justice to the curviness of the woman.

Troy used to consider himself a leg man. Right now, though, he’d have to say full mouthwatering breasts had jumped to the top of his list.

The bottom hem of her towel came within a whisper of reaching her upper thighs. But the fabric didn’t quite conceal a shadowy hint of the curls between her legs. He swallowed a groan as his mouth went dry with pure undiluted want. His body, already in a state of semiarousal since the moment they met, reacted predictably.

She noticed, and finally regained her voice. “Oh. My. God.”

Yeah. That summed it up about as well as anything else.

For a moment, Venus couldn’t make sense of what had happened. She’d come strolling into the bathroom, deciding to take advantage of its sunken tub, which the housekeeper had mentioned when showing her to her own suite. And she’d walked in on the most perfectly luscious naked male body she’d ever seen.

Perfect. Luscious. Naked. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, indeedy.

Troy Langtree was a woman’s centerfold fantasy in the flesh. He made her remember why she was so very glad to be a woman without even touching her.

He had the kind of thickly muscled shoulders that made her fingers tighten at the thought of digging into them. His chest was just as strong, perfectly sinewed and rippling, with flat, male nipples puckered from his shower. Her own nipples tightened beneath the towel,
sending a sharp sense of awareness ratcheting throughout her.

Water dripped from his hair to his shoulders, then lower, riding the muscles down his body. They were like precise, tiny arrows she wanted to follow with her tongue.

Follow the arrows to the treasure
.

The very bountiful treasure.

Her mouth went dry. And moisture gathered between her legs. Her desire raged insistent and hot, begging for the kind of release only a man—
this
man—could give her.

Somehow, though, Venus remained upright and continued examining him.

His skin was tanned. She figured that made sense because he’d lived at the beach in Florida. But the physique was a definite surprise. Troy Langtree was toned and muscular, hot and hard. Not at all the suit-wearing businessman type she’d have expected. This guy had the kind of body that could make a grown woman sit up and beg.

Wiry dark hair swirled over his chest, around the nipples she wanted to taste with her tongue and down the washboard stomach. Then lower, trailing in a thin line, stark against the paler skin below the edge of his tan. It took a lot of self-control to keep from sighing as she looked even farther, holding her breath as his very impressive male package swelled under her hot, appreciative stare.

Watching him grow fully erect, until he was throbbing and ready, she dropped her book and bath oil, and clutched the counter for support.

Women weren’t supposed to react this way, were they? Good women were supposed to want protestations
of love. Roses. Candlelight. Whispered promises meant to be broken. Tender touches and kisses. A connection of the heart before a connection of the body.

Hell, at least dinner and a movie first!

But Venus just wanted
that
. That magnificent hard-on Troy Langtree made absolutely no effort to disguise, not to mention all the rest of his big, hard body.

“Are you lost?” he finally asked, still completely in control, making no effort to cover himself, showing no sign of embarrassment at his obvious reaction to her.

She shook her head mindlessly. “Mrs.…um…the housekeeper…”

“Mrs. Harris?”

She nodded. “When she took me to my room, she told me to feel free to use any parts of the house I wanted.”

“Including my bathroom?”

She gulped. “I didn’t know it was yours. She said my room has the best view, but apologized because the bathroom has a standard tub. And she said this room had a great sunken tub with massaging jets.”

“It does,” he said, glancing toward the tub a few feet away. “You’d love it.” His words sounded almost like an invitation to try it out.

“I had no idea anyone would be in here since you said Max lives alone. I thought I’d take a bath…I didn’t realize…”

“I’m a houseguest this week too.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“Sorry enough to hand me a towel?”

“Only an idiot would be
that
sorry,” she mumbled, unable to remove her eyes from his naked form.

Casting a quick glimpse at his face, she saw his eyes darken. A small smile widened his lips.

“So you strolled right down the hall,” he continued
with a pointed look at her towel, which, even she could admit, didn’t cover much. “Like that?”

“I’m right next door. Your door’s four feet from mine,” she replied, hearing the breathy tone in her voice. “It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of decision.”

The explanation sounded weak, even to her own ears. But it was entirely true. With every step she’d taken as Max Longotti’s housekeeper had led her toward her room, she’d grown more and more convinced she could never be comfortable in this house. There was too much money and too much class, from the roof on down to the pricey tile, for Venus Messina to ever feel comfortable.

A bath had sounded downright necessary.

A naked man
and
a bath sounded downright delightful. She very much wanted both. One after the other or both at the same time. Any way she could have them.

He finally chuckled. “Do you really think this is fair?”

“Fair?”

“I mean, is it fair for you to see what you do to me? Just the thought of you made my shower a lot more chilly than it would otherwise have been.”

He had to take a cold shower for her? Damn, that was a pretty high compliment, in Venus’s opinion.

“Men are pretty obvious about things like this,” she finally admitted as she stole another peek at the impressive evidence he made no effort to hide.

“So are women.”

She raised a brow. “Oh?”

He grinned lazily. “It’s a little more concealed, but it’s just as easy for a man to see a woman’s desire…if he knows what he’s looking for.”

She instantly reacted to the note of challenge in his voice. “Oh, really? And I suppose you’re an expert?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

She had no doubt this man knew his way with women. But Venus also knew women’s bodies were neater, much more discreet than men’s. Just glancing at his made that perfectly clear.

Crossing her arms, she retorted, “Aside from the one obvious point, which could also be caused by a chill, I’m not buying it.”

He looked pleased, as if her words had led her directly into his trap. When he continued, she realized they had.

“There’s one way to prove it,” he murmured, his eyes holding a recognizable spark of mischief.

“Drop the towel.”

V
ENUS NIBBLED HER LIP
, noting the amused challenge in his voice. He almost certainly didn’t think she’d do it. After all, she’d walked in on him by accident, and he hadn’t intentionally exposed himself to her.

This was different. What woman would simply drop her towel in broad daylight and show her naked body to a man she’d known for only a few hours? A man with whom she had no relationship and had never been intimate?

Nudity with a new lover was intimidating enough. This bordered on exhibitionism.

It would take a lot of confidence, and a lot more nerve.

Fortunately, Venus had been blessed with both.

She reached for the knot over her breast, never taking her eyes from his. He raised a brow, silently egging her on.

“You think I won’t?”

“I think you want me to
think
you will,” he countered.

She wondered if the naked hunk had retained any of his normal executive, suit-wearing inhibitions now that his clothes were off. If so, she’d be able to tell by his reaction. Right now.

Untying the towel, she removed her hand and let gravity do the rest.

A slow, pleased smile spread across his parted lips as he studied her from head to toe. Not a hint of shock ap
peared on his face; he never even pretended to look away.

Question answered. No inhibitions in the man.

Venus remained still, letting him look his fill, knowing what he saw. Full breasts, slim waist, flat tummy as a result of way more sit-ups than any one person should have to endure. Her hips were a little rounder than she’d like, but not bad for a woman pushing thirty. And she already knew he liked her legs—he’d been eyeing them since the minute they met.

She heard him draw in a ragged breath. He obviously approved.

“You didn’t think I’d do it, did you?”

He tilted his head and raised a brow. “Oh, I
knew
you’d do it, Venus. Why else do you think I suggested it?”

He wasn’t kidding. He’d known damn well she wouldn’t back down from his challenge. He hadn’t known her long, but he already knew her better than most other people ever had.

“Okay, you got me naked. Now, big shot,” she said, narrowing her eyes in challenge, “are you going to wow me with your expertise on women?”

He stepped closer, moving noiselessly across the bathmat, until they were less than a foot apart. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek and see the pulse in his temple. That gorgeous erection was within inches of where she wanted it. Her body arched forward the tiniest bit, of its own will.

Schooling herself to remain calm, she figured her tightly clenched fingers on the counter were about the only indication of the inferno raging inside her body.

“Your eyes are glassy, your pupils dilated and your lids half lowered.”

She blinked twice. “Bad lighting.”

He laughed softly at the lie.

“Your lips are pursed,” Troy said, his voice low and soothing, almost melodic. “You’re thinking of being kissed. Of kissing back. Of using your mouth for something other than talking. Lots of somethings.”

Score one for the men’s team
.

“Pursed lips can also be a sign of attitude,” she countered weakly.

He nodded. “Oh, honey, there’s no question you’ve got miles of attitude.” Watching as he moistened his own lips with his tongue, she nearly moaned. “But it’s not your attitude at work when your lips are full and ripe and parted like that. It’s another part of Venus altogether.”

Yeah. The empty, aching part that badly needed to be filled by him.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment, and she knew he saw the truth she couldn’t possibly hide. Then he looked lower. His breaths grew more labored—she heard each one as he drew it into his mouth and slowly exhaled, as if striving for control when there was none to be found.

He stared at her bare throat. Her shoulders. The nape of her neck, where one long curl brushed her collarbone.

Then he studied her breasts, which felt heavier and tighter under his hungry gaze. “It’s not too cold in here,” he murmured, “so you couldn’t have a chill.”

True, she acknowledged silently. Her nipples tightened even more, drawing into pointy tips as she imagined him using his mouth on them.

“That’s almost too easy, though,” he continued. “So let’s move on. There’s a pink glow on your skin. You’re flushed and breathing in shallow breaths, because you’re so excited.”

She closed her eyes, trying to relax, but unable to.

“Your stomach is quivering slightly with the effort it’s taking you to keep your body stiff and unyielding when it wants to be loose and pliant.”

She moaned softly, but didn’t open her eyes. She kept focusing on his voice, trying not to think of how much she wanted to reach out a few inches and let her fingers do some walking.

“Though you’re trying to stand straight, your legs are shaky. I can see the muscles straining beneath your skin.”

When she felt a butterfly-light touch on her thigh, her eyes flew open. “I didn’t think touching was part of the demonstration,” she said between ragged breaths.

“It’s not. I don’t have to touch you to know how much you want me.” He moved his hand again, the tips of his fingers scraping ever so delicately across the curls concealing her womanhood. “Though, if I did, I think we’d both see just how much you do.”

She nodded, knowing exactly where he could touch her to prove his point. She was so wet and throbbing, she’d come apart at his slightest touch. The mere thought of him sliding his fingers into her made her moan slightly.

“Do you concede?” he whispered, still holding his hand no more than a centimeter from her curls. “I am correct in thinking you’re incredibly aroused right now?”

She nodded, unable to lie to him any more than she could to herself. “I concede.”

Oh, yes, she was definitely aroused right now, so aroused she would have gone for it, right here and now, hard and fast up against the sink. Then slow and languorous in the bathtub. Even having only known him for
only a matter of hours, she would have. If it weren’t for three things: location, location, location.

“So I want you. And you want me too,” she whispered.

He didn’t try to deny it. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw your pretty ankles when you were sitting on the balcony outside my office.” The smooth words couldn’t hide the intensity in the man’s voice.

Venus had been desired before. She’d had sex before. She’d even had relationships before. But she’d never felt like someone wanted to inhale her completely, to indulge in her body and give her every bit of primal passion a man was capable of.

Until right now.

“Point taken. We want each other,” she said raggedly. “But this would really complicate things with the old man, wouldn’t it? For both of us.” Part of her wanted him not to care. A bigger part knew he couldn’t.

At his frustrated groan, she continued. “This was a pretty damn stupid thing to start when we know we’re not going to finish it.”
Are we?
She heard the tone in her voice that almost made her comment sound like a question.

He looked at her for one moment longer, then his eyes shifted away. She heard him mutter a curse under his breath and nearly echoed it.

“You’re right. Incredibly stupid.” He thrust a frustrated hand through his still-wet hair, sending droplets of water onto her hot skin, providing instant, shocking sensation. He picked up a towel from the counter and slung it around his lean hips.

“I’m sorry, Venus.”

Hearing him acknowledge that, no, they were not going to finish the way they both wanted to, she sighed
heavily. Not wanting to tempt fate by retrieving the towel she’d dropped by bending down in front of this gloriously erect man, she grabbed a fresh one from a rack behind her. Quickly, she wrapped it around her.

When covered, she forced a laugh. “Considering I haven’t had an orgasm that didn’t involve a vibrator in so long I’ve forgotten what one feels like, you’re probably not as sorry as I am.”

His mouth opened and he gaped at her, as if completely unable to believe she’d said what she’d said.
Okay, that was probably a little crass for Mr. V.P.

Then she realized he hadn’t been shocked by her language.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t had a lover for a long time. You are the most sensuous, desirable woman I’ve ever met, Venus. I have trouble believing you couldn’t have any man you wanted, any time you wanted him.”

I can’t have you
.

“It’s been a long time. Since last fall,” she admitted, lowering her lashes and wondering why she’d confessed something so intimate. Maybe because her heart had skipped a beat or two when he’d called her the most desirable woman he’d ever met.

Flattery had been known to make women do foolish things before.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, then closer still. His expression was intense, focused. His eyes flared with heat and determination. Wary, she took a tiny step back, but was blocked by the vanity countertop behind her.

“That’s too damn long,” he said, his voice thick and husky.

Before she knew his intention, he’d slipped his hand
into her hair, tangling it in his fingers. He drew her close, catching her surprised cry with his lips.

His kiss was hotter than the one they’d shared earlier, on the balcony. Hot and hungry, and Venus melted against him. He made love to her mouth with his tongue until she began to whimper, needing more, wanting more than they’d just agreed they could have.

He slid his palm down her bare arm, slowly, his fingertips creating heat and electricity on her skin, then lower, until his hand brushed against her towel-covered hip.

She jerked and gasped. He only kissed her deeper. When his hand moved between the edges of the towel to brush against her naked thigh, she knew what he was doing, what he wanted to give her. She had one second to wrap her mind around it before his hot fingers slipped between her legs. “Oh, God,” she managed to cry, feeling the pressure. She arched into his hand, growing even more mindless when she heard his groan of pure male satisfaction at feeling how wet she was. For him.

“Oh, Troy…
please
,” she whispered brokenly.

He teased her, sending her higher as he made tantalizing circles around her throbbing clitoris. When she thought she’d burst with frustration, he gave her a little more, slipping his finger inside her, mimicking the movement with his tongue.

She began to shake, until finally he whispered against her lips, “Now, honey. Right now.”

Finally he zeroed in on her hottest spot. With just a few perfect strokes on the delicate flesh, he gave her exactly what she’d been missing. She cried out as waves of pleasure ratcheted through her body, the orgasm literally making her shake so hard he had to support her in his arms.

He kept kissing her, taking her cries against his lips as
she gradually returned to sanity. It took several long moments. The intensity of her climax had been like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

“It’s funny,” he whispered as he moved his mouth to kiss her cheek, then her eyelid. “Right before you came in, I’d been thinking about how much I wanted to give you a bunch of screaming orgasms.”

“One down,” she managed to mutter, not sure where she got the strength to use her voice.

He chuckled. Pressing one more kiss against her temple, he stepped back. She instantly missed the hot, hard feel of his body against hers. “Troy?”

“You should go,” he murmured, gently pushing her toward the open door. She couldn’t even protest as he gently shuffled her out into her bedroom. Then, he stepped back inside the bathroom. “I somehow think I need to take another shower. A long one.” His eyelids lowered slightly, as did his voice. “I can pretty much guarantee what I’ll be thinking about for every minute of it.” He shut the door before she could protest.

Venus stood there, listening to the lock click, then the shower turn on. She knew what he was doing.

And she wished like hell she was the one doing it for him.

A
FTER TAKING
another long and equally unsatisfying shower, Troy dressed for dinner. Though an easygoing man, Max did enjoy the niceties and, so far, every night Troy had been here they’d had a full-course dinner in the dining room. Tonight, he found himself hoping the salad forks weren’t too confusing. The quiet, elegant dinner hour might never be the same once Venus got through with it.

Venus. He closed his eyes, pausing while shrugging on
his pressed white shirt. He still couldn’t get her image out of his mind. Like her namesake, she was the epitome of woman, so damned seductive he had been barely able to shut the door behind her after pushing her away earlier.

He’d known full well she wouldn’t be able to resist his challenge when he practically dared her to drop the towel. Probably not his wisest move. It had been bad enough when he’d only imagined what she looked like under her clothes. Now, having seen her, all he could think about was what it would be like to go farther. Her body was the kind men fantasized about—lushly curved, sleek and supple. He wanted nothing on earth as much as he wanted to cup her breasts, to suck those tight nipples into his mouth, to press hot kisses on her stomach…and hotter ones between her long, pale thighs.

Not taking her while she still shook from her orgasm had required every bit of self-control he possessed.

“Cool it, jackass,” he muttered aloud, knowing there was no time for yet another shower this evening. Hell, when his sex drive came back, it came back with a vengeance.

He was dying to make love to her. Kissing her, touching her, catching her cries of pleasure in his mouth may have given
her
a little release from the tension, but it had only added to his. Troy knew he’d be able to think of nothing else but making love with Venus every time he was with her.

And when he wasn’t with her he’d have the memory of how she’d looked when she’d dropped the towel. Not just her glorious body, but that spark of devilment and outright confidence in her eyes that he’d never before encountered with another woman.