Gena Showalter Bundle. Gena Showalter
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pushed his advantage. “Number three: I will wear clothing when the situation warrants it, and only then.”
Silence.
Stubborn woman. “These are the adjustments I wish. If they are not acceptable…” His voice trailed off, allowing her to assume whatever she would.
A sigh pushed past her lips with enough force to cast a sweet ripple of air upon his cheeks. “I accept them, okay. Are you happy now?”
“Not nearly as happy as I would like to be.” He reached out, intending to brush a fingertip across her cheek. Then he recalled her rule and his own stipulation. Unless she asked, he could not touch her. With a muttered curse, he dropped his hand to his side.
She grabbed the sheet and shoved it toward him. “This situation warrants clothing. Since you know nothing of my planet’s customs, you’ll just have to take my word on that.”
Frowning, he once again covered his lower body with the linen.
“Thank God we only have to put up with each other until tomorrow morning,” she muttered. “I might die from stress otherwise.”
More amused than irritated, he said, “Are you usually this surly with your guests?”
She swatted at the air with her hand once, twice. “I am not surly.”
“Aye, you are, and argumentative, too. But mayhap by tomorrow’s dawning you will be too sated to bicker with me.”
Her jaw clamped together with so much force he feared the bone would snap. But with a visible effort, she managed to relax. “Let’s go home,” she said. “I’m too tired to deal with you anymore tonight.” With that, she turned on her heel and headed toward the door.
“If I break one of your rules,” he called behind her, “I will allow you to give me a severe tongue lashing all over my body.”
She nearly choked on that one, and it required all of his strength to smother his laughter. Ah, life had never seemed so ripe with promised pleasures. For now, he was free from de Locke’s curse. In a matter of hours, he would lose himself between a woman’s soft thighs. And he would return home on the morrow. What more could a man possibly want?
CHAPTER FOUR
I’M IN SOOOOOO MUCH TROUBLE, Katie thought.
She eased into her truck, but she didn’t start the ignition; she just sat there, clutching the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Jorlan climbed inside and perched beside her in the passenger seat, oblivious to the riotous sensations dancing through her. Lick him all over? The idea held more appeal than swimming in a giant vat of melted Hershey’s Kisses, yet also went against every ounce of common sense she possessed. Contrary to what Jorlan might think, hopelessly chauvinistic men did not heat her blood in a good way.
Well, not usually.
His “you will do this” and “you will do that” did irritate her to no end, but that irritation failed to obliterate her attraction to him. He was just so wickedly masculine, so unabashedly male. He knew his appeal and wielded an entire seductive arsenal, which he didn’t hesitate to use to his advantage.
With his words, his glances, and his soft touches, he’d made his plans to have her quite clear. So many times during their interaction, she’d wavered, wondering if she should just give in or continue to resist. And if she did resist, was she simply postponing the inevitable?
Intuition told her this man could not only give her the wildest night of her life, he could also cure her of First Date Syndrome. He didn’t walk bowlegged or speak with a nasally tone. No, he strode with the gait of a hunter, strong and assured. His husky voice produced shivers of delight, not shivers of revulsion. She hadn’t seen him eat, but she doubted he ate his peas one at a time. He just didn’t have the patience to be a nibbler.
He wasn’t patient, period.
Yet, that didn’t turn her off as it should have.
“How do you force this vehicle into motion?” At her side, Jorlan opened the car door, but he didn’t get out. He simply closed the door again, then opened and closed it, the hinges squeaking with each movement.
“Keep trying it that way,” she muttered, still lost in thought.
When one overlooked his impatience, his chauvinistic demeanor and his penchant for disobeying, Jorlan was nearly perfect. And he did excite her in a way she’d never experienced before.
So what if she did it? What if she took the pleasure he was offering?
One simple brush of his body against hers had almost caused her to experience her very first orgasm. No telling what full-body, skin-to-skin, plunging-deep-inside contact would do to her. Kill her, most likely, but what a way to die! However, despite his I-can-give-you-a-mind-numbing-climax sexual magnetism, he truly annoyed the hell out of her. In attitude, he was too much like her brothers. Katie’s brows drew together. Okay, so had she just talked herself into sleeping with him? Or had she talked herself out of it?
Time to regroup. Pros: 1. She had desired him, both stone and flesh, for the past three weeks. 2. He could whip her body into a pleasure soufflé. 3. He was leaving the next morning.
Cons: 1. He was leaving the next morning. 2. His arrogance grated on her very last nerve. 3. She would be nothing more than a momentary convenience to him—a necessary burden, at that.
Did she truly want to be a momentary convenience for her first time?
No.
She wanted hearts and candy, flowers and music. She wanted words of praise and acceptance, maybe even a whispered, “I simply have to have you. I can’t live without you. If I don’t touch you soon I’ll die. Please. I’m begging you.”
Okay, maybe that was a little extreme. But she knew, knew she wanted more than Jorlan would give her.
So the cons won. The man beside her, with his lose-yourself-in-me eyes and his to-die-for muscles, would be nothing more than a boarder. A nonpaying boarder, at that.
“Shut the door and buckle up,” she told him with more force than she’d intended. “We’re going to move now.”
His expression clouded with confusion, as well as a bit of indignation, and he closed the passenger door with a final snap. “On Imperia, we travel atop horned stags very similar to your horses. This is my first time inside the belly of your enchanted transportation, so I know not of what you speak. Buckle up?”
She demonstrated what needed to be done.
He followed her example. A moment passed. He tried to scoot left and right, yet the belt hindered each motion. Frowning, he ripped himself free. “I will not trap myself inside your transportation.”
Here we go again. Katie swallowed a sigh and geared herself for another argument. Lord knew if she demanded that he duck in order to protect himself from a bullet, he would only say, “A woman takes orders, katya, she doesn’t give them,” and then promptly be blown away by gunshot.
“The seat belt is there for your protection,” she explained. She fluttered her lashes the exact way that made her brothers crumble. Jorlan didn’t even blink. “If I come to an abrupt stop and you aren’t wearing it, you’ll fly into the windshield, crack your head and die.” A little extreme, she knew, but she could think of no other way to make him listen.
His frown deepened, but at least he rebuckled.
Once they were properly situated, she started the truck and eased onto the road. Warm gusts of wind whipped through the open window, laving her face, lifting her hair. A horn blasted. Startled, she scanned what little traffic occupied the highway and discovered the honk had not been for her, but for a male driver who was swerving from one side of the road to the other. Accelerating, she quickly passed him.
The faster she drove, the more Jorlan relaxed his stiff posture. “’Tis exhilarating, this speed.”