Wild Hyacinthe (Crimson Romance) (10 page)

He moved my hand out of his way and his touch took over my body, his fingertips rough and slick with my arousal against such electrified skin. I couldn’t think. His chest heaved as he breathed harder, circling my clitoris over and over in just the right motion, never slowing, never missing his mark. The pleasure coursed from my center to my toes, and back up through my whole body, and I whimpered as he rubbed faster. The intensity escalated, and I was lost in the sensations as he drove me onward, his heart thudding, his breath as rapid as mine. And then it peaked and I cried out, my hips convulsing forward into his palm against my will, as the orgasm ricocheted through me in waves of crushing ecstasy.

He met my mouth with a kiss, but he inhaled in deep, sharp gasps while my lips moved weakly in rhythm with his. I couldn’t keep up. His gasps of breath were desperate and demanding, his eyes closed, his body looming over me with an intensity of need I didn’t understand.

I pulled my hand out from inside my panties and grabbed onto his shoulder for support, leaving streaks of moisture on his skin as he kept his hand between my legs to feel every last spasm of my climax. As he withdrew his hand he took my fingers and kissed the still-damp tips, licking his lips. His eyes were dark and wild with excitement, and he leaned forward to kiss me once more, inhaling as he did. When he pulled back, some kind of puzzlement touched his incredible features, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes lit with alarm. “No! Not at all. I’m just . . . enchanted by you.”

“I’ve never done that in front of anyone before.”

“I’ve never watched. I don’t take much time for foreplay.” Something dark passed over his face as he said it, but he covered the moment with a kiss, his tongue less demanding and more caressing in my mouth. He parted his lips and drew in another deep breath.

I sighed into his kiss, shocked by his reverence, the way he gasped at my mouth like my kisses fueled him. Like he needed me.

I gathered up that courage again, excited to see how far we could go. “Your turn?”

His jaw clenched with indecision, and then he shook his head. “No. This morning is for you. I want to wait.”

He still wanted to wait? After
that
? I nodded, not wanting to press my luck with this flawless man, my unlikely savior, the eternally coveted Asher Chain holding my hand to his heart on his breakfast bar.

“Okay,” I said, hesitant.

He searched my eyes for approval.

“Okay,” I repeated with more conviction. “You can wait. I’m satisfied, anyway.” I shrugged.

Asher’s smile broke across his face with relief. “Let’s get you into some pants, then, and we’ll do some shopping. A few outfits aren’t going to break my bank account, don’t worry.” He pulled away and stepped up the single stair into his bedroom, dropping his towel on the floor.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sculpted shape of his whole body naked. “Hey! I never said
anything
about you paying for my clothes!”

But he ignored my protest and tossed me a pair of his cargo pants and a belt, and stuffed his erection into his boxer shorts with a wicked, sexy grin.

Glenda told me
Gypsy liked to shop at an upscale, three-story shopping complex one hour north of Duluth outside another small, touristy town called Two Harbors. Two Harbors was halfway to my cabin, so I knew the scenic drive well. Aria shifted in the leather upholstery of my car, nervous as Lake Superior blinked in and out of view between the trees that lined the shore.

No part of me objected to spending money on Aria after I was able to charge my incubus’s needs to a faint degree by her climax. Only hers, not mine . . . no death involved. The charge was muted and already fading, but it was there, and I absorbed it as she came around my fingers between her legs.

Really?
Really?
Could there be a way out of my hateful life, the awful deeds I committed? Could I be more than a killer with Aria? When she came, she released aura for me to inhale. I had never experienced anything like it before. Even if I could never have physical satisfaction of my own, I might be able to avoid taking her life, and stay with her.

I’d spend every penny I owned and borrow myself into the ground if I had to, if it would make her happy, if I could keep her around and charge my needs without killing her. Within Aria lay an answer I never expected, a possibility I never dared to consider. “So, there’s a Walmart in Two Harbors?” she asked, staring at her fingers twined in her lap.

I reached over and found one of her hands, bringing it over to my own thigh to rest. My hard-on was still constricted in my pants, an irritating condition I would probably suffer until I decided to endure Aria’s murder, or the murder of somebody else. I wanted to touch her warmth again as I thought of it. She was a woman like no other, and the thought of killing her . . . I tightened my hand around hers. “I don’t know. I don’t keep a close eye on Walmart locations, as they spring up like weeds.”

“Well, there’s one right in Duluth. Two Harbors is awfully far if we’re not sure there’s a Walmart there. I have sixty bucks, and that’s enough to get some new underwear and pants.”

I tossed her a grin. “It’s fine. Really. Gypsy handles most of my finances, and I don’t think she’d be pleased if she saw Walmart on the transaction list.”

“Why, is Walmart too poor for you?”

I considered that but didn’t have an answer that made me sound like
less
of a douchebag, so I held my tongue.

Aria grimaced at the silence that was my reply. “You want to pay for my clothes? Are you sure you’re okay with that? I mean, what if I just take the clothes and disappear tomorrow?”

“Then you’d do exactly that, and I’d stalk you. People are easy to find, especially for somebody with my kind of dollar power, though I’ve never had to exercise it in that manner.” I grinned at her, daring her, though I knew it was stupid to do so. She’d proven herself up to any challenge already, and her boldness turned me on like crazy. “The chase would be fun. And brief.”

“I’m really uncomfortable with you spending money on me, Asher. I’ve only known you a few days. It’s not fair of me to let you dote on me like this when we haven’t even had an official date yet.”

“Look, I’m not used to women questioning me on this type of thing. If I want to get you some nice things and avoid the hell that is Walmart, then that’s what I’ll do.”

She blushed and lowered her gaze, hiding a smile. I grinned. I liked her acceptance of my stubbornness, and it appeared she liked a man in charge
.

Aria tucked her blue bangs behind her ear. “I’m going to need some kind of budget to know how to function in whatever store we’re going to.”

“Just pick out what you need and I’ll pay for it. Keep it below a few thousand, how about that?”

Her jaw hit the floor of the car. “A few thousand what, pennies?”

“Dollars,” I corrected with a smirk.

Aria punched me in the shoulder playfully. Her contact was glorious, and I squeezed the fingers of her other hand tightly with affection.

The store, Gypsy’s favorite called Chiffon, was huge and Aria stared, stunned, or maybe overwhelmed. I flagged down a sales lady in her thirties and asked for assistance, whispering that I was Gypsy Chain’s brother and I needed some clothing for my girlfriend.

“Um . . . I need some jeans. Low-cut on the hips, size six. Black or dark blue only, please,” Aria said, her voice timid.

“With belt loops,” I added my preference, looking away with feigned innocence when she gasped at me, surprised.

The sales lady strode off with purpose, leaving us in the lingerie section.

“Did you call me your girlfriend?” she asked me when the woman was out of earshot.

“Maybe. My housekeeper is going to ask about you anyway. I’ve never had a girl over, like I said.”

“But you’ve had so many . . . women, you know, even if not in your apartment.” Aria sighed, looking away. “Surely your housekeeper will assume I’m just one of them.”

“Nah, I don’t often introduce the women I meet. Why would I? It’s never been a long-term thing. Mrs. Libby is Gypsy’s personal chef and was my mother’s best friend. She’ll be terribly curious about you. They all care about us—all of Mom and Dad’s staff—but they leave us to our own business, as well.”

“Is all of your money inherited?”

“No, Gypsy invested and reinvested shit in ways I don’t understand. She heads up the business Mom and Dad left us, managing all of the finances. My . . . ” I trailed off, realizing I was about to admit that my condition prevented me from exploring the professional world beyond the few years of correspondence college I attended from the safety of my laptop at home. “My preference lies outside of the business world,” I covered my near-confession. “Personal training suits me.”

“And no doubt brings you many attractive female clients,” she suggested, lifting her eyebrows.

I laughed and touched her chin with affection. Jealousy made her adorable. “Gypsy would slit my throat if she heard I was sleeping with a client.” I was happy to be able to be honest about at least that.

“Gypsy sounds scary.”

“Terrifying.” I let out a laugh. “She’s not to be crossed, that’s for sure. She’s . . . different. You’ll understand when you meet her.” I wanted to admit to Aria that the loss of my parents was two-fold for me, because I lost a part of my sister, as well. Gypsy was never the same after they died, and while her hardened, badass exterior suited my needs as an incubus nicely, I knew she wasn’t living a fulfilling life without emotional connections to people.
Huh. We’re not so different.
“She’s just a bit darker of a person than most people. Realistic and unaffected by social shit.”

Aria raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Kind of like you?”

I shrugged. “Somewhat, yeah.” I squirmed, my pants still tight from the lack of satisfaction this morning.
Gonna have to find time for a brutal workout tonight,
I realized. I pointed to a table full of every color of panties, thongs, and bras. “Pick ten of each.”

“Demanding, much?” she cocked her head to the side. She checked a price tag and frowned.

“No, just selective.” I lowered my voice. “Pick ten of each so I don’t have to keep replacing things as I tear them off you. And so I don’t have to ask Mrs. Libby to do laundry more often than I already pay her for. She’s Gypsy’s housekeeper, too. Can’t use up all the payroll time on myself.”

Aria squinted. “Are you going to tell Gypsy
I’m your girlfriend, too?”

I licked my lips and watched her bright, lacy eyes, remembering her taste. She was skeptical, but there was a hint of hopefulness behind her question.

“Yes, I think I will.”

Aria blinked twice and stepped back. “What if I don’t want to be your girlfriend?”

I leaned down and closed the distance she put between us. I breathed on her, forcing her to crane her neck upward to see my commanding glare. “I think,” I said in the lowest voice I could manage, which amplified the still-aroused roughness of my tone, “we crossed that threshold this morning, sweetie.”

Her neck and cheeks flushed. “And if I just want to be another fling for you to indulge?”

I let my lips brush her earlobe as I stooped and spoke to her. “Then you shouldn’t have come all over my breakfast bar, Aria. I have an addictive personality. I’m not going to want breakfast anytime soon unless you’re seated next to it on the bar in my apartment wearing nothing but the finest of neon panties.”

Her breathing picked up in speed and I passed a quick kiss over her neck beneath her ear. “I liked watching you,” I continued, my cock bulging against my pants. “I liked seeing you that way. Your orgasm was so amazing.”

“Ssh!” Aria shook her head. “Don’t remind me! That was embarrassing.” She laughed and hid her face against my shoulder for a moment.

I grimaced. I didn’t want to embarrass her. “No, don’t think that way. Really. I loved that, this morning . . . I want to do it again.” I needed to do it again. Soon. I needed more of her. I found her mouth with mine and kissed her until the tension drained from her body and she melted against me. I didn’t care who might be watching us. I only cared about her perfect tongue.

Aria pulled away. “Well, then,” she said, clearing her throat and masking her momentary lapse of coherence. I grinned at the effect I had on her. “If you want me to get ten of each of these categories,” she gestured to the mountain of lingerie, “I might go a little bit over budget.”

My mood brightened even further. “Then fuck the budget.”
Fuck it like I wish I could fuck you!

I delighted in the smile that lit her face. “Really? You really don’t mind me spending your money, Asher?”

“No, I don’t mind at all.” I shrugged, my fingertips resting on her waist. “In fact, you’re doing me a favor. I don’t help the economy enough with my wealth. Shop. And have fun while you do it.”

She searched my eyes for any trace of dishonesty, then broke into an even bigger smile and turned to the table of lingerie. “Okay,” she said. She stared at the table for a moment, and then began selecting panties.

We walked hand in hand from the store to the parallel parking space my Lamborghini occupied. Our sales assistant put a large bag of clothing onto the floor of the passenger’s seat. I tipped her a hundred and thanked her.

“Wait, wait.” Aria stopped me with her palms on my chest. “Look, Asher, I’m poor. I grew up in poverty. I moved around looking for somewhere that would suit me, somewhere I could live without being bothered too much by other, equally poor family members who just never go away. Spending your money . . . it’s fun, don’t get me wrong, but it feels unfair, somehow. What can I possibly give to you in return?”

“I thought we’ve been over this,” I scolded. “I want your company, temporary or otherwise.”

“Otherwise?” Aria whispered, fear and excitement lighting her eyes.

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “Can’t we just keep this simple for a while?”

“It’s already complicated, Asher. You don’t want to screw me because you think . . . I don’t know, that I’ll get knocked up so I can demand a chunk of your money every month? I’m not even capable of conceiving children.”