Ice Blue - Anne Stuart [97]
The apartment was dark, lit only by the neon that filtered through the shuttered windows, and she moved carefully, avoiding the piles of stuff that littered the place.
Striations of purple, red and yellow danced across the figure in the bed, courtesy of the bright neon signs outside. He lay on his back, unmoving, and for a moment she thought he was asleep. That she could just watch him for a moment and then slink back to her hard mattress on the floor.
Then she saw his eyes were open, watching her with utter stillness. And it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“Come here,” he said.
Maybe it was going to be easy, after all. She opened her mouth to say something, to argue, but he stopped her. “Come here,” he said again, patiently. “You know what you want. All you have to do is say it.”
And that was the one thing she couldn’t do. She moved closer, because she couldn’t resist, but the words seemed to jam in her throat.
He was naked in the bed; he had the sheet pulled up to his waist, but she knew he was wearing nothing underneath. If he would just reach out his hand, pull her onto the bed, cover her mouth with his, then she wouldn’t have to say anything at all.
But he didn’t move. His hair was loose around his elegant, beautiful face, his skin was like molten gold, and she realized she’d never touched him, never put her mouth on him. And she was afraid.
“You have to tell me,” he said, his voice soft and enticing, so deep it reached into her body and pooled between her legs. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”
She could turn and leave. Walk out of the room, away from him, and tomorrow someone would put her on a jet back to the U.S. It was the easy way, the safe way, and he wouldn’t stop her.
“What do you want, Summer?” His eyes were dark, clear, steady in the flickering light.
“I want you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, in what almost seemed like relief. But he still wasn’t done. “What do you want me to do to you? Do you want me to hold you while you sleep? Do you want me to make you come while you pretend I don’t even exist? Do you want to get in my bed and let me show you things you haven’t even dreamed of?”
“Yes. No…”
“Which is it? Be brave. Just tell me. I’ll do what you want.”
No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t love her, give her the kind of crazy happy ever after she didn’t even believe in.
But he could give her the night. An endless night, blind and forbidden. All she had to do was ask.
She held out her hand. It was trembling, and there was no way she could disguise the fact. “Maybe I’m not so brave, after all,” she said in a shaky voice.
“Bravery is being afraid and then doing it anyway.” He took her hand and his warmth flowed into her. “Tell me.”
The bed was big and high. She climbed up onto it, letting the silk kimono settle around her as she knelt. He didn’t move to make room, just watched her, waiting.
Pulling her hand free, she reached down and untied the sash of the robe, letting it fall open. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was vulnerable, totally open to him.
“I want to put my mouth on you,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Everywhere. I want to touch you, learn your body, find out what you like, what you need. I want to make you as crazy with wanting as I am. I want you, everything you can give me, everything I can give you, and I want the night to last forever. Can you give me that?”
“Yes,” he said. He reached up and pushed the robe from her shoulders so that she was naked. “As for what I want, what I need, it’s very simple. It’s you.”
She wanted to cry, but she didn’t. “Then let me learn you,” she said. She put her hands on his chest and found his skin smooth, hot to the touch. She ran her fingers over his body, over his flat, dark nipples, the bone and muscle and sinew of him, and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes, letting her.