Wild for Him Page 8

  One of the guards grabbed the back of Jason's shirt and pulled him upright. "Do you want us to call the cops so you can press charges?"

  Ben shook his head. "No, not this time." He actually felt sorry for the man and what he'd become-a pitiful drunk. "However, you come near Christine again, and all bets are off."

  Security led Jason away, and with the other man taken care of and no longer a threat, Ben headed back to where he'd left Christine, only to find her gone, as was Craig. He glanced over at where Christine's friends were, but they weren't there, either.

  Un-freakin'-believable! Where in the hell did she go? He'd given her one simple order and she'd ignored it.

  He jammed his fingers through his hair in frustration. Catching sight of Leanne, he headed in her direction, figuring she'd been the last to see Christine and would most likely know what happened to her. As he approached the buxom blonde, she eyed him like a fresh piece of meat she wanted to sink her teeth into.

  "Hi there," she said, gracing him with a slow, provocative smile that hinted at a more indecent proposition-if he was willing.

  Annoyed by the other woman's flirtatious attempts, and needing to find Christine ASAP, he got right down to business. "Where did Christine go?" he asked.

  "She took off with Craig, and considering he's had the hots for her for some time now, who knows what they're doing," she said, clearly attempting to make him jealous. She stepped closer and ran her fingers along the collar of his shirt. "You know, since you're more my type than hers anyways, maybe you and I can hook up and have some fun."

  "Not interested." He so did not have time for this shit. "Now where did they go?" he demanded, more forcefully this time. Every second that passed was a second more that something could happen to Christine, and he was starting to feel anxious and edgy.

  "Calm down." His rejection must have stung, because her lower lip puffed out in a pout. "They went to his private office," she admitted reluctantly. "It's right up those stairs."

  She pointed across the lounge area, and Ben took off in that direction, his long-legged stride getting him there in less than a minute. He took the steps two at a time, walked down a short hallway, and came to a door marked "Private Office." He tried to turn the knob, but it was locked, and his stomach twisted with the worst kind of apprehension.

  The door was solid and secure, and not one he could break open with one swift kick. So, he used his fist and pounded insistently on the surface with enough force to rattle the walls, until the door finally swung open and Craig stood on the other side with an irritable scowl on his face.

  "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you!" he bellowed.

  Immediately, Ben noticed that Craig had taken off his suit jacket and tie, and his crisp white dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest. The knot in Ben's belly squeezed tighter.

  Ben pushed his way inside, giving the other man no option but to let him in. "Where is Christine?" He'd already checked and she wasn't in this first room that was set up more like a mini lavish suite than an office, with a comfortable couch, a minibar, and big-screen TV.

  "She's fine." Antagonism radiated off of Craig in palpable waves. "With Jason out of control downstairs, I thought she'd be much safer up here until he was taken care of."

  His answer wasn't the one Ben was looking for. Standing in the middle of the room, he turned around and met the other man's stare, his own expression dark and dangerous and threatening. "Where the hell is she?"

  This time, with Ben at his most foreboding, Craig didn't dick around with his reply. "She's right in there." he said, waving a hand toward an adjoining closed door. "She's using my private restroom, and she should be out in a few minutes."

  Ben didn't have a few minutes to wait. He had to know that she was okay now. He strode toward the door with an irate Craig hot on his heels.

  "Look, you can't just come in here and take charge like you own the place!"

  "I believe I just did," Ben stated succinctly. He turned the knob and was grateful when it opened, even though he'd been fully prepared to bust this one down if it had been locked.

  He stepped into the large, very plush and decadent bathroom, complete with marble flooring, an enclosed shower, and a large Jacuzzi tub. Christine, who'd been standing at the vanity in just a black lacy bra, skimpy panties, and black suede boots, sucked in a startled breath and jumped back upon his bold entrance. Her eyes widened as he shut and locked the door, then closed the distance between them.

  Between Craig having shed some of his clothing, and now Christine, he automatically thought the worst-that Craig had somehow managed to take advantage of her. "Why are you undressed?" His throat felt raw.

  She frowned at him and tried to cover herself with the small, damp hand towel she'd been holding. "Because I'm covered in sticky mai tai, from my chest to my thighs, and I'm trying to wash most of it off. Do you think maybe next time you can knock instead of just barging in like Conan the Barbarian?"

  Covered in sticky mai tai? He shook his head in confusion, because he had no idea what the hell she was talking about. "Considering I'm in charge of making sure you're safe at all times, I'll barge in whenever the situation warrants," he said in a low, harsh whisper, just in case the walls were paper-thin and Craig could hear their conversation. "Like right now."

  She lifted her chin defiantly. "Oh, really?"

  "Yes, really." He was so damned relieved that she was okay, because he never would have forgiven himself if she'd been harmed in any way, but he was still more than a little pissed off at her for disobeying his orders.

  Wanting her to know just how serious he was, he stepped closer, backed her up against the sink, and braced his hands on either side of her hips on the counter. His face was very close to hers, and he could smell something sweet and fruity, with a hint of rum… like a mai tai.

  "I thought I told you to stay put while I handled Jason." She opened her mouth to say something, but he was quicker. "I can't do my job effectively if I don't know where the hell you are. When I tell you to wait somewhere, it means you don't leave the area. With anyone. Especially Craig."

  "Jason was the threat," she said, keeping her voice hushed. "Not Craig!"

  "I don't like him," he snapped. Ben knew his aversion to the man was irrational and based more on the fact that Craig wanted Christine for his own, but at the moment he didn't care.

  "I asked to use his private bathroom after Leanne deliberately dumped her drink on me, which is why I'm standing here half-naked." She held her arms out to her sides, giving him a delicious glimpse of all that creamy flesh being plumped up by her push-up bra. "I'm trying to clean up the sticky mess, and I didn't anticipate an interruption!"

  So that explained why she smelled like a fruity drink he wanted to taste. And it didn't surprise him at all to discover that Leanne was behind such a juvenile stunt.

  He tipped his head, the beginning of a grin chasing away the brunt of his anger. "Is your life always filled with this much drama?"

  "Not until you became a part of it." She smiled sweetly.

  Now that he'd gotten all that tension off his chest, he straightened and stepped away from her. He kept his gaze on her face, but his peripheral vision, and his vivid imagination, had no problem conjuring her figure from the neck down. A sexy black bra encasing her small, firm breasts. A smooth, flat belly. Skimpy lace panties. Slim, sleek thighs… and those damned dominatrix, high-heeled boots.

  He swallowed hard and hoped her gaze didn't stray any lower than his waist, or she was bound to find more than she bargained for. "You have to remember that first and foremost, I'm your bodyguard. There is a viable threat against your father, and your family, and that includes you, as well." Especially her. "My job is to keep you safe, and it will go so much more smoothly with your cooperation. Got it?"

  She nodded. "Yes, sir."

  "Good." Grabbing her top and skirt off the counter, he thrust both at her, covering as much of her bared body as he could. "Put your clothes back on.
You can shower at home. I've had enough excitement for one night. As soon as you're dressed, we're getting the hell out of here."

  STANDING in her dark, quiet kitchen. Christine stared out the window over the sink to the moonlit backyard and took a sip of the hot chamomile tea she'd made. Closing her eyes, she savored the soothing, relaxing warmth as it spread its way down to her stomach.

  Regardless of the late hour that was way past her normal bedtime, and despite feeling utterly exhausted after everything that had transpired at Envy earlier, she hadn't been able to fall asleep. She'd spent an hour tossing and turning in her bed with a myriad of thoughts running through her mind, and when the clock on her nightstand hit one A.M., she decided to resort to her good ole standby of tea to help her unwind and hopefully enable her to sleep. She had a busy day at the office tomorrow and couldn't afford to have her mind fogged by lack of slumber.

  She sighed, still unable to believe how her evening had turned out. What had began as a fun outing with friends had ended up being a night she wouldn't soon forget.

  After leaving Envy, the drive home with Ben had been quiet, and once they'd arrived at her place, he'd conducted a whole house search even though her security alarm had still been on and untripped. That didn't matter to Ben, who insisted that until he was no longer in charge of her, this would be his routine whenever they arrived home. She had to admit, the man was thorough and efficient when it came to her safety.

  Since her damp clothes had been clinging to her, she'd headed straight for her bedroom, stripped her clothes back off, and took a long, hot shower. By the time she was done and went in search of Ben, he'd already retreated to the guest bedroom and had shut the door.

  She took another drink of her warm tea. Other than the incident with Jason, then with Craig in his private office, she'd had a great time with Ben. He'd meshed well with her friends, and he played the part of her steady beau exceptionally well. Almost too well, considering how comfortable she'd been sitting on his lap, how sensual his touch felt on her bare thigh, and especially how territorial he'd been when he'd found her seminude in Craig's bathroom.

  Remembering the simmering heat in his gaze when he'd noticed her standing there in her bra and panty ensemble, then again when he'd crowded her against the vanity, a shiver rippled through her and tightened the tips of her breasts against her cotton camisole.

  Her overwhelming reaction to Ben no longer surprised her at all. He made her burn with need, made her think about all the things she wanted to do to him, and with him. Sinful, shameless things she'd never done with any other man before.

  She wasn't a virgin, but since her breakup with Jason she'd come to realize that she was far too inexperienced when it came to all that sexual foreplay a couple usually enjoyed before the main course. For that matter, she was pretty damned innocent when it came to positions, too. The only one she was intimately familiar with was missionary style, and there was so much more she wanted to know, learn, and experience.

  As she finished her tea and set her cup in the sink, she thought about what Madison had said to her earlier tonight, about giving Ben a bit of a shove in the right direction. But in order to do that, it meant she'd have to shed all those rules of propriety her mother had drilled into her head for so many years. Being a demure good girl and suppressing her own desires hadn't gotten her much in terms of sexual gratification, and the thought of being a little wicked and wanton now held a whole lot of appeal.

  But embracing that sexually assertive woman within her meant being bolder in her pursuit. More daring in her quest to please herself, instead of doing what everyone else expected of her. It also meant not settling for less than what she wanted.

  And what she wanted was Ben Cabrera.

  "You can't sleep either, huh?"

  As if her thoughts had conjured him, Ben's deep, husky voice sounded from somewhere behind her. Turning around, she found him across the kitchen, standing in the doorway, the moonlight streaming through the window, illuminating him like a dark, fallen angel. Leaning casually against the frame, his corded arms were crossed over his bare chest, and he wore a pair of gray sweatpants that rode precariously low on his hips and revealed a good amount of his taut, rigid belly. Lower, the soft cotton emphasized everything that made him so heart-stoppingly virile.

  Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed hard as she slowly, leisurely dragged her gaze back up the length of his gorgeous, well-built body, until she finally reached his face. Already, a light stubble had formed on his lean jaw, and his hair had been finger-combed into a wildly disheveled style that flaunted that sexy, bad boy image of his.

  Lust, strong and undeniable, licked through her like a live flame. She knew her shot at seduction was now or never, that there was no better time than the present moment to go full force after the man who'd inspired some of her most erotic fantasies over the past few months.

  "No, I couldn't sleep either," she said, her voice soft and low.

  Gathering her confidence, she strolled across the kitchen toward him, wishing she was wearing a pair of her high-heeled shoes that gave her a bit more of a height advantage. Without them, and because Ben was so big and tall, she felt incredibly delicate and feminine when she finally came to a stop in front of him.

  "It's all your fault, you know," she said, blaming him for the time she'd spent tossing and turning in her bed.

  He arched a dark brown brow in amusement. "And just how am I to blame?"

  "Because you make me feel hot and restless, and that isn't conducive to sleep." Smiling, she reached up and touched the tips of her fingers to his unshaven cheek, watching as his gaze darkened with awareness. "You feel it, too, don't you?" she whispered.

  "Feel what?" he replied, his gruff tone giving away his attempt at nonchalance.

  "This attraction between us." Stepping even closer, she skimmed the pad of her thumb across his full bottom lip, aching to kiss him. "Tell me you feel it, too."

  Encircling his long fingers around her wrist, he gently drew her hand away from his face and let her arm drop back to her side. "It doesn't matter if I do, Christine. Nothing's going to happen beyond being your pretend boyfriend."

  God, she hated that he'd reverted back to calling her Christine, which was his way of keeping things all business between them, she knew. But now that she'd come this far, she wasn't about to let him dissuade her from her ultimate goal. In fact, she was all-out determined to crack that steadfast control of his, because what she was beginning to feel for him was as honest and real as it got.

  "You make me realize everything that was missing from my other relationships, not that I've had many." Drawn to the broad expanse of his bare chest, she splayed both hands on all that hard muscle and hot skin and experienced a thrilling jolt of triumph when he sucked in a sharp breath. "But even with the men I've dated in my past, I've never, ever, felt this kind of intense attraction before."

  He didn't remove her hands this time, but neither did he touch her in return. Instead, his fingers curled into tight fists, and the muscles beneath her hand flexed oh-so-enticingly, revealing just how tense he'd become. "Don't go there, Christine," he said, his voice a rasp of sound in the shadowed kitchen.

  "Oh, but I do want to go there. Badly." Letting her lashes fall to half-mast, she slid her arms around his neck, stood up on tiptoe, and brushed her mouth across his. "I want to know how real desire feels," she whispered, teasing the seam of his lips with her tongue. "I want to know what real passion tastes like."

  The rumbling of a groan vibrated against her mouth, encouraging her to forge ahead while she still had the chance. "Kiss me, Ben." She nibbled on his bottom lip and gently tugged it between her teeth. "Please."

  Like a man pushed to the brink, he finally fell over the edge and Christine knew she was about to reap the benefits of all that raw, powerful masculinity he exuded. With a rough growl, he wrapped the fingers of one hand in her hair, encircled his other arm around her waist, and hauled her up against his body as his mouth came do
wn on hers.

  Hot.

  Hard.

  And deliciously demanding.

  There was no sweetness in his kiss, but slow and romantic wasn't what she'd been after tonight. This all-consuming embrace was exactly what she wanted from Ben, and for the first time in her adult life she discovered that desire felt like the most exciting thrill-ride she'd ever taken. And passion… oh, Lord, passion tasted like searing heat, ravenous hunger, and insatiable lust all rolled into one.

  The hand at the nape of her neck tightened, then he shifted and moved, turning her slightly, backing her up, until her shoulders hit the kitchen wall and he trapped her there with the insistent press of his thighs and hips against hers. The solid length of his erection branded her with a need so primal, she ached to feel every inch of him inside of her.

  With her head now pinned against the flat surface, he slanted his mouth across hers and deepened the kiss farther, if that was at all possible. His tongue stroked across hers, and his big, strong hands wandered into more forbidden territory.

  One palm glided down over the curve of her waist and around to her bottom while his other hand skimmed beneath the hem of her camisole. His thumb caressed the skin of her stomach, and she trembled in anticipation. Unrelenting fingers swept upward, until he finally enveloped her breast in his big, callused hand and squeezed the firm flesh.

  She moaned against his mouth, and arousal, liquid and warm, spiraled its way down to her belly, then between her thighs. He rolled her taut nipple between his fingers and she automatically arched into him as a soft, mewling sound escaped her throat. Everything the man did, every illicit stroke and erotic caress, sent her soaring to a higher level of sensation, until she felt drenched in the most decadent pleasure of her life.

  She wanted to touch him in return… everywhere. Wanted to make him burn with the same intoxicating fever spreading through her. As she smoothed both of her hands down his chest to his abdomen, then teased her fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants, his big body shuddered. Before she had the chance to pull on the drawstring that would give her access to his jutting erection, he abruptly ended the kiss. He jerked back, his breathing ragged.