Shameless (Bound Hearts #7)

Shameless (Bound Hearts #7) Page 22

Shameless she was, but she had no idea of how shameless she could ultimately become.

Chapter Eleven

“Ian, wake up.” Cheerful, full of energy and clashing with the bone-deep sleep he had been immersed in, Ian opened one bleary eye to stare back at Courtney’s shining face.

The bedside lamp was on. Obviously. Its glare was about to blind him as he peeked over her shoulder to stare at the clock.

“Go back to sleep,” he muttered, closing his eyes as he groaned at his body’s refusal to accept that she had actually woken him after the hours he had spent exhausting them both.

Exhausting her wasn’t easy.

Surely to hell he wasn’t getting old.

He would have shuddered at the thought if he actually had the energy.

“Ian, come on, wake up…” Playful, undeniable, her voice had his eyes blinking open in resignation at he stared up at her.

She was leaning over him, her hair flowing down around her face, creating an intimate, seductive curtain as her dark eyes, her very awake dark eyes, gleamed with joy.

His dick twitched in interest despite his body’s exhaustion.

“I’m awake.” His hand smoothed up her thigh, heading for the soft flesh between her thighs. Perhaps a quickie would satisfy her until he could wake up.

“Stop that.” She laughed, pushing his hand away as he sighed in resignation. “Guess what?”

Guess? It was fucking midnight. He wasn’t supposed to be awake right now, let alone guessing anything. He started to remind her sharply of that, but the soft glow of her eyes, the gentle smile on her lips, stopped him. It would be criminal to kill such a look of joy with a sharp word.

“I can’t guess. I’m asleep,” he finally grumped, a grin tugging at his lips as her slender fingers raced over his side in a retaliatory tickle.

“Come on, grouch.” The feminine amusement, softly voiced and filled with wonder, had him staring up at her, willing to guess whatever the hell she wanted. “Guess what’s happening right now?”

“Hmm.” His hand moved to tangle in the hair at the side of her face. “You’re pussy’s getting wet?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes at him, but she was having fun. Strangely enough, so was he. It had to be the sleep deprivation. “Guess again.”

A smile tugged harder at his lips. “My dick’s getting hard.”

“That wasn’t a guess.” Her throaty laughter had a chuckle blooming in his chest. “That’s a continual state.”

“When I’m awake anyway,” he reminded her, a drowsy sensuality flowing around them. He could feel the hunger for it, but it wasn’t imperative, it wasn’t a driving need as it had been previously. It was just there, connecting them.

Intimacy.

It wasn’t sensuality, so much as intimacy.

The thought of that should have terrified him to the bottom of his bachelor’s soul. Instead, the lazy, drowsy atmosphere allowed it to seep into him, to fill him.

“Come on. I’ll give you a better hint,” she whispered, leaning close to feather her lips over his. “What’s it doing outside? Right now?”

He thought a minute.

“No…” His eyes closed on a groan, though the chuckle slipped free. “No way, you little minx. I am not going outside in the freezing cold at midnight.”

He was warm. The blankets were pulled over them, Courtney was snuggled close to his side, and he was not leaving his bed.

“But Ian…” He opened his eyes and groaned again at the wonder in her face. “It’s snowing, Ian. We could slip down to the hot tub and watch it snow while we cuddle in the hot water.”

Cuddle? In the water?

He shivered at the thought of it.

“Courtney, you have to drag your ass out of that hot water into the cold air eventually,” he reminded her, knowing he couldn’t refuse the playful pout shaping her lips.

“I’ll warm you back up.” She batted her eyes innocently at him. “Come on, Ian. Let’s go play in the snow. It will be like our own little world.”

“We have our own little world here,” he growled, snuggling closer to her as he pressed his face between her breasts. “Stay with me and I’ll fuck you instead.”

“Go out to the hot tub with me. We could sneak out through the Club. No one would be there now, and that way, you won’t get cold,” she teased against his hair. “I’ll sit on the rim, surrounded by the snow and let you show me how much you like the new wax job I got yesterday.”

He perked up at that. He hadn’t taken the time to worship her soft pussy, as he had wanted to earlier in the night. Somehow, there was never enough time to do all the things he wanted to once he got her responsive little body beneath him.

“You’re going to drag me out of my warm bed, aren’t you?” he muttered before licking at the stiff nipple to his side.

She laughed softly, moving back from him, her eyes and her smile, her very expression one of luminescence. She was like an angel, staring down at him with an air or wonder and soft light.

“Come play in the snow with me, Ian. Let’s make beautiful memories.”

And how could he resist?

He wasn’t entirely certain how he allowed her to draw him from the bed. He helped her put on one of this thick robes, satisfied it would keep her reasonably warm on the short distance from The Club’s door to the heated tub. Pulling one on himself, he halfway convinced himself that he must surely be dreaming now. Only in his dreams would he would be sneaking through his own house, into the deserted Club and onto the back deck with the little minx who had wormed her way into his life.

As they moved through the dark corridor leading to the Club’s inner door, he had his arm wrapped snug around her, holding her to his side as she seemed to shimmer with the joy that reflected in her soft voice.

“You live such a staid life for a Trojan,” she teased as he keyed in the security code to unlock the door that kept her barred from the inner rooms. “Really, Ian, locking me out isn’t kind.”

“Safer.” He chuckled at her tone. “You’re a menace, Court. I feel it’s my duty to protect my own kind.”

Her small hand smacked at his chest.

“Oh, that was just cruel,” she pouted. “Good comeback, but cruel.”

“Score one for Ian?” He lifted a brow teasingly as she stared up at him.

“Score one for Ian.” Her soft giggle touched his heart.

Yes, he had to be dreaming, because only in a dream could the past evaporate as it had now.

“Come on, minx.” He opened the doors into the bar, glancing around the dimly lit area and seeing it empty before leading her to the French doors on the other side of the room. “I can’t believe I’m going out in the cold to get wet and then try to get back to our room. We’ll be ice cubes before we make it. They’ll find us tomorrow, frozen…” He faked a shudder as he led her quickly out the door onto the heated deck.

She laughed. The intimate sound of it, soft, as delicate as the mist surrounding the hot tub, had him smiling and he wasn’t even certain why.

“Come on, grouch.” She shed the robe with no sign of discomfort as she stood beneath the heavy snowfall, her face raised to allow the soft fluff to caress her face. “Feel it, Ian, it’s like a fantasy.” She turned back to him, her hair shielding her upper body, framing the delicate features of her face.

He could feel his chest expanding, feel the wonder of her burning within it. She amazed him, drove him crazy, made him so fucking hot he thought at times he would melt from the conflagration.

How could he possibly get cold? Siberia would be a rainforest with her in it.

“Aren’t you coming?” Her voice was still whisper-soft, encouraging him in the madness she created.

He found himself untying the belt of the robe and quickly removing it, allowing it to drop in unconcern on the damp heated cement beneath their feet as he moved to the steamy water.

He stepped in, feeling the rush of the water caress his lower legs as he held his hand to her. A vivid smile crossed her face, and in the soft light of the full moon above he saw the flash of eternal dreams in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Courtney,” he whispered as she stepped into the water with him, the snowflakes drifting down to melt on her flushed cheeks, her soft lips.

Pleasure flashed in her eyes as she stared up at him, looking for all the world like one of the fairies in the prints his mother loved before her death.

His own precious fairy.

He touched her cheek, lowered his lips to hers and whispered suggestively, “Now tell me about that wax job?”

Courtney stepped into the front doors of Ian’s mansion just before the sun was setting over the mountains surrounding it the next evening. She was reflective as she closed the door behind her, brooding over the fact that it seemed Melissa Gaines, and something that had happened almost fifteen years before, still had the power to hold Ian’s heart so deeply.

She had thought she was making inroads the night before as they laughed and made love in the hot tub long into the midnight hours. But this morning he had been his usual brooding self, if a little grumpier than usual.

Had he truly loved the woman? Surely not. If he had, then he couldn’t be so certain that love didn’t exist, could he?

Truth was the man was going to make her completely insane. She shared his bed, spent hours upon hours each night in the throes of the most exciting pleasure she could have imagined, but it wasn’t enough. Not for Ian, and not for her either.

She could feel the restlessness building in him, and it only caused hers to intensify.

“Your coat, Miss Mattlaw…”

She jerked in surprise as Jason materialized by her side.

“Stop sneaking up on me.” She lightened the startled snap with a laugh. “That’s creepy.”

“You were obviously very deep in thought, ma’am.”

The robot.

She allowed him to help her with removing the black jacket she had worn with her jeans that afternoon as she stared about the foyer.

“Is Ian in this evening?”

“Mr. Sinclair is away presently,” he informed her. “He asked me to let you know that he would return later this evening.”

She nodded slowly. “Very well.” The house was quiet, too damned quiet. And she was sick of being a good girl. Ian kept a very close eye on her when he was home, careful to keep her from The Club at all costs.

A wicked smile curved her lips as the butler moved through the foyer to the back of the house. Removing her cell phone from her small purse, she dialed Khalid’s number and waited as it rang. Once.

“Well, my favorite girl is calling,” he answered, a smile in his voice.

“Hello, Khalid.” She kept her voice low, in case anyone dared to attempt to listen. “Where are you?” She allowed a vein of teasing wheedling to enter her voice.

A chuckle came over the line.

“Where you aren’t allowed to be.” His voice was equally as low.

“But I want to be.” She pouted prettily, watching the doors leading from the foyer suspiciously. “Get me in. We’ll have dinner. A drink. Play some cards…”

“…Make Ian insane.” He didn’t sound a bit frightened of the prospect. She liked Khalid in that way—he was one of the few men that Ian didn’t intimidate.

She shrugged negligently. “He’s away at present. He may never know. But that bulldog of his, Matthew, is so mean to me, Khalid. Surely you could help me.” She used her best, most pathetic little voice that normally inspired complete devotion.

Khalid laughed.

“You are such a bad girl.” He kept his voice low. “I might have heard, in passing, that Matthew has to leave in about forty minutes to pick up another member at the airport. I suppose I could slip out and unlock that pesky door he’s taken to securing while he’s gone.”