Chapter Seven
Dalton's Magic Rule #8: Encourage active participation.
The idea of a pop quiz obviously wasn't something that turned Melina on. She pulled away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes immediately reflecting her discomfort. “I'm not really big on pop quizzes.”
Amusement tipped up one corner of his mouth. No, she wouldn't be. Melina liked to prepare. Research. Have the answers in hand so she could control the situation. Lucky for her, he was here to nudge her out of her comfort zone. “There's no wrong answer to the question I'm about to ask.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Then it's not really a pop quiz. A quiz implies by its very nature that there's a right answer or a wrong answer.”
A huge grin split his face now. “What about multiple-choice questions? Haven't you ever answered a question with D, all of the above?”
“Well, sure,” she began hesitantly. “But—”
“There is no 'but,'” he said softly. “Not in this scenario.”
Looking like she wanted to argue some more, she simple shrugged and said, “Fine. There are no wrong answers.”
“Good. The other thing about this question is that you don't answer it right away. You just think about it. And you answer when you're ready.”
“So what's the question?”
“What would you do to have me?”
She stared at him blankly. “Excuse me?”
Reaching out, he rubbed his thumb against her bottom lip, loving the way her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. “That's the question for you to think about. What would you do to have me? Sexually, of course.”
Her brows furrowed. “I'm not sure I understand the question. In the context of our…our agreement, I suppose I'll do whatever you tell me pleases you.”
“So that's how you plan on handling the next man in your life? Letting him have carte blanche? Anything goes?”
“Well…”
“Bondage?”
Her eyes rounded. “I guess it depends…”
“Sex toys?”
She glanced away, blushing to the roots of her hair. “I-I don't have a problem with—”
“How about multiple partners? Two women? Two men?”
Her eyes snapped back to his. “No. I'm not having any luck keeping one partner satisfied. I don't need an extra person in my bed to worry about.”
“How do you know that's your stopping point? Have you ever tried it?”
“No. I've never tried eating worms, either, but I know that's never going to happen.”
“Okay, so you have a definite sense of what you wouldn't do. Not so much of what you would.”
“Why don't you just tell me what you want, and I'll let you know if it's something I'm not comfortable with.”
His expression grew serious. “And is that where your willingness to learn ends? With the obvious answer?”
She reacted just as he expected she would. Challenge Melina's thirst for knowledge and complexity, and expect her to sit quietly and take it? No way. Hands on hips, she thrust her chin out. “Just what are you getting at, Rhys?”
“You know as well as I do that sometimes the key to learning is figuring things out for yourself. Why wouldn't that apply in this situation, as well?”
She came very close to pouting. “Seems to me this is a trick question.”
He laughed. “It can't be, because the answer is what it is. If you're willing to do what I ask and nothing more, then that's the answer.”
“You're talking in circles,” she cried. “I don't want to guess what I need to do. I want to know. That's the whole reason I asked Max for help. I don't want to play the game just to fail again.”
His heart skipped as he saw the real distress in her eyes. “Baby, you're not going to fail. There's no way that's possible.”
She just shook her head, biting her lip until he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close. So that's what he did. He pulled her in for a hug and rocked her. She let him hug her but didn't return the favor. Soon, she pulled away.
“I'm sorry. I obviously can't even do this right. I think I should just leave.”
“Is that what you really want?” he asked quietly to mask his own desperation. “To quit before we even get started?”
“No. But I don't understand why you're making this so complicated.”
“Because despite what you obviously think, men are complicated. Pleasure is complicated. It's not just a matter of telling someone what I like. It's about you figuring it out. Reading the signs. Learning to trust your instincts. And then acting even though it makes you uncomfortable. Because you know that in the end, the pleasure's going to be worth it.”
She looked unconvinced. Hell, she practically rolled her eyes, which sure told him something about the degree of pleasure her lovers had been giving her. She was obviously going to need more convincing before she'd willingly agree to his lesson plan.
“Okay, so let's go back to our conversation in the car. You said men wanted overt. An arrow painted with red lipstick falls into that category, right?”
She frowned, obviously not happy with thinking about that little message again.
“Well, things aren't always so black and white—even when the shade is Shanghai Crimson. When you say men like the overt, you're oversimplifying.”
“Really. And how's that?”
“What that woman did…it wasn't a turn-on because she sat down across from me practically naked—”
She snorted and he paused, glaring at her.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“It was a turn-on because she went for it. Whatever her reasons, she wanted to have sex with me that much. Not me, necessarily. I could have been Max or any other successful magician, but she was going to get what she desperately wanted, one way or another. Have you ever wanted anything like that, Melina? Because, believe me, I have. And I never thought I had a chance in hell of getting it. Not until I walked into my hotel room last night and found you waiting for me. Not until I realized I'd do anything—run down the Vegas strip naked with lipstick all over my body—to have just one taste of you before you came to your senses and left.”
She was breathing hard, her eyes wide and dazed, staring at him as if she'd never seen him before. And she hadn't. Not really. He'd never let her see the passion he harbored for her, not so clear and out in the open. But he was letting her see it now, if she bothered to look.
“Have you ever felt that way about any of your lovers, Melina?”
Slowly, she shook her head.
“Then if your exes found you wanting, it wasn't because you lacked skill. It was because they knew you didn't feel that passion for them. That doesn't mean you don't have the passion inside you.” I should know, he thought. She'd given him the taste he'd been craving, and it had almost blown his mind.
She shook her head, and her eyes cleared and narrowed. “I don't believe you,” she murmured. “What's that old saying? All cats look alike in the dark? A woman without inhibition, a woman who cares only about her own pleasure, makes demands. Her focus isn't on the man. Sure, it's an ego boost to have a woman crazy for him, but in the end the man's going to want his. I'm not the most passionate person, but if I have the skill, that's what's going to matter most.”
“I didn't say the woman would only care about her own pleasure the whole time. Great sex is about making a connection, even if it's just on a purely chemical level. It's about give-and-take. It's about someone wanting you for everything you are and aren't, regardless of measurements, wealth, or background. Which is why that woman's forwardness turned me on, but only to a point. She didn't want me. She wanted my stage persona. Who she thought I was.”
Their gazes locked before she took a deep breath.
“But what you're talking about…it almost sounds like you're describing emotion. Love.”
He shrugged, wanting to push the conversation in that direction but knowing that would just scare her. And him, too. He was fortunate to have this weekend. He couldn't get carried away and expect more. “It does, doesn't it? As I said, it's not black and white. Very few things are. This weekend is about experimenting. Learning each other's likes and dislikes. Playing and petting. But it's also about pushing each other to our limits. Finding out what drives us. How far you'll go to have me. That's how you'll learn what pleases a man, Melina. Not by me showing or telling you. By being motivated to figure it out on your own.”
“And you think you can motivate me?”
Saying nothing, he shot her a wicked grin. That's all it took to have her blushing. To her credit, however, she didn't go down without a fight.
“So let me get this right. You're saying that instead of giving me clear instructions as to what a man likes, you're going to make me figure it out on my own?”
“I promise to give you lots of feedback. But what I like might not be what another man does. Doing it this way strengthens not only your confidence, but your instincts, too.”
“Or it just makes me look like a fool again. And probably leads to a lot of frustration for you.”
“If you're willing to take the chance, I think I'll be able to stand it.”
She pursed her lips, thinking about it. “I don't know, Rhys. Maybe this just isn't—”
“What do you say we compromise?”
She took a step back, clearly not trusting him. “How?”
“I'll agree to tell you what I like. What most men like. But each time I do, you need to try something on your own.”
“And what if I do something you don't like?”
“Then you win and you won't have to do it again.”
“You're that sure of your theory?”
“I'm that sure of you. You can stand there and do nothing and I'll be turned on. You actually do something, anything, to me?” He growled, making her eyes widen.
“In all fairness, how would you know if you win?”
“It's a win-win situation for me, isn't it? I tell you what pleases me, you do it. You try something I like, it pleases me. You try something I don't like, we're back to me telling you what I like. Right?”
She squinted, as if trying to make sense of his convoluted reasoning. “I guess.”
“Good. Now, we should probably get going if we want to get in the water before it's cold.” He handed her a basket with a blanket and paper goods. “What do you say we play a game on the drive there?”
“A game?”
“Yes. That's something most guys like, too. Teasing. Playing with their partner. Not just physically either. Last night, I pushed you a little to talk to me. To tell me what you like. You ever play the alphabet game?”
She followed him out to the car. “I'm familiar with it.”
“Good. Then let's start with that. I was going to propose we start in alphabetical order. Food first. Then the lake. But then I realized I've never really heard you talk dirty before.” At the car, he opened the driver's side door and turned to her with one raised brow. “So what do you think, Melina? Can you talk dirty to me? Tell me some of your favorite sex words. And just for kicks, why don't you alphabetize them for me?”
* * *
Melina didn't know why, but something about Rhys's request rankled her.
She got into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. As Rhys started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, she glared at him. “You don't think I'll do it, do you?”
“Why would I think that? You're very good at following instructions.”
She felt her temper spike, still not sure why she was so riled. All she knew was that he seemed too calm and controlled for her liking, especially since she felt anything but. “Meaning what? You don't think I have the creativity to be a good lover? Well, you're right. I don't. But if there's one thing I'm good at, it's words.”
“Why are you mad?”
She stared out the windshield and crossed her arms over her chest. “I-I don't know. Maybe because this seems to be one big joke to you.”
He braked so suddenly that she jerked forward against her seat belt. Bracing one hand on the wheel and the other on the headrest behind her, he glared at her. “Tell me one thing I've done to make you think this is a joke to me.”
“It's obvious, isn't it? You're trying to make me uncomfortable by drawing things out. Poking fun at my intellectual side.”
“I'm not poking fun. I love your intellectual side. Would you rather we just strip and do it a few times to get the nerves out?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
“Well, that's not what you need, and it's not what you're going to get from me. If you don't like my methods, I can drive you back home. I'm sure you can get Max to meet you with one phone call.”
With that, he shifted in his seat until he again faced forward.
She pressed her lips together, trying not to cry. “I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. And I don't want to call Max.” I want you, she thought. It's always been you.
He sighed and started driving again. “There's nothing wrong with you. You're just feeling out of your element. But at some point, for us to go forward, you're going to need to trust me. Trust that I want only the best for you.”
She laughed humorously. “So it's my sweet sixteen all over again. You call the shots, and I just wait for you to make your move. Is Trisha James going to make a surprise appearance, too?”
His jaw tightened. “If you want to discuss that night, we can. Frankly, I don't think you're ready to hear what I have to say.”
No doubt about it, his words spiked her curiosity. What could he say besides he was sorry? She bowed her head. “No, let's not go there. And I do trust you, Rhys. With this, with me, I trust you.”
He said nothing. The mood in the car had grown so serious, and she had only herself to blame. Her one chance to be with Rhys, and what had she done? She'd blown it, all because he hadn't thrown her on the bed as soon as they'd walked into his cabin. Thinking fast, she blurted out, “Afterglow.”
“Excuse me?”
“That's my first word. In alphabetical order. Afterglow.”
He turned toward her, his mouth tilted up and amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Nice, but a little ahead of yourself, don't you think?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she could salvage things, after all. “Blow job,” she said, trying to shock him.
“Ah. A personal favorite of mine.” He nodded. “But rather predictable.”
She uncrossed her arms and shifted closer toward him. She swayed slightly with the gentle vibrations of the car, and placed a hand on the dash to steady herself.
“*oris. Co-Cock.”
He laughed when she stuttered, but the laugh sounded slightly stilted, so she didn't take offense. “Again, some definite favorites. Keep going.”
She wondered if he'd turned on the heater, or if it was just her desire causing her to flush and feel all loose and tingly inside. “Climax. Coitus. Come.”
“Wow. Who knew there were so many dirty words that started with C?”
Despite his continued efforts to sound unaffected, she could tell she was getting to him. Sweat had popped out on his upper lip, and his fingers seemed to grip the steering wheel for dear life. His knuckles whitened as she continued.
“Copulate. Cream.”
“That's not a dirty word.”
“It is if you're licking it off someone's body.”
He scowled. “Done that often, have you?”
The idea that he might be jealous had her twisting the truth just a bit. She'd watched a movie recently where whipped cream had been a prominent prop. “Just once. But it definitely showed me what I've been missing.”
He didn't respond other than to take a deep breath.
“And now for my personal favorite.” Leaning forward, she brushed his ear with her lips and breathed her next word. “Cunnilingus.”
He hissed in a breath. When she reached out to put her hand on his thigh again, his hand whipped out, grabbing her wrist. “Don't,” he croaked out, his voice guttural.
“Or what?” she whispered.
“Or we're never going to make it into the water. And I for one can use some cooling down.” He stopped the car, and she looked around. They'd reached the lake.
“Darn. I was just getting started. But I guess you're right. Guys do like dirty talk.” She dropped her gaze to his erection, which was straining against the front of his shorts. “At least you do. You sure you don't want to hear the next one?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “It feels good, doesn't it?”
She drew back, and he slowly released her. “What?”
“Knowing you can get me hard just by talking to me. Knowing that just the sound of your voice pleases me.”
“It really does, doesn't it?” she asked, a feeling of wonder making her grin.
“Rein yourself in there, Ladybug. There's only so much a guy can take before he cracks.”
“What's your cracking point?” she pouted.
“That's for me to know and—”
“—me to find out.”
He winked, then threw open his car door. “Come on. I've worked up an appetite.” Grabbing the basket with the blanket, he walked to a shaded spot by the lake. She was still reeling with satisfaction while she unpacked their food. That feeling went out the window five minutes later when Rhys stripped off his shirt. Smooth, tanned skin, defined muscles, and a rippling six-pack nearly mesmerized her.
“What do you want first?” he asked, gesturing to the spread of crusty bread, Gouda cheese, grapes, and prosciutto.
“Uh…” She shook her head. “I'm not that hungry, actually.”
“I'll be quick.” He reached for a grape. Before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand over his, stopping him. She was breathing rapidly, her heart hammering in her ears, as she met his gaze. “It's my turn, right? To do what I think will please you?”
His green eyes darkened. “What do you have in mind?”
“Would you…would you lean closer?”
Obediently, he did. She took hold of one plump grape, and lifted it. When he opened his mouth, she placed the grape on his tongue. He chewed the juicy fruit slowly, then swallowed. “Do you…do you want another one?”
“Please.”
She took another grape and fed it to him. This time, before he let her draw away, he sucked just her fingertips into his mouth. She inhaled swiftly. Bit by bit, she fed him. The grapes. The bread and cheese. By the time she wrapped a thin piece of prosciutto around her index finger and offered it to him, his breathing was as labored as hers. Taking a gentle hold of her wrist, he guided her finger into his mouth, easing the delicacy off her finger and then sucking the digit strongly.
She moaned. He moaned. After releasing her finger with a pop, he staggered to his feet.
“Rhys,” she whispered.
“You're one dangerous lady. I've got to get in the water or I'm going to be all over you.”
“So you liked me feeding you?”
“What do you think?”
She swallowed hard. “You liked it.”
“Yeah. That's an understatement.” And with that, he backed away from her, eyes locked with hers until the last possible moment, then he turned and cannonballed into the water, splashing her with a huge wave that made her yelp even as she laughed out loud.
* * *
“Come on in. The water's great.”
Melina stood uncertainly at the edge of the water as Rhys motioned her closer. She wanted close. Closer. She wanted it until her teeth ached. Her body was on fire, and she wasn't sure how much more teasing she could take. There was only one problem.
She was a coward.
She'd been too much of a coward to wear the bikini, and she was too much of a coward to strip down to her bra and panties. Not white, but a pale peach that was so sheer it left nothing to the imagination.
Maybe she squirmed at the thought, because now Rhys was staring at her oddly. She needed to get in that water and fast. What other choice did she have?
“I've already seen everything there is to see, remember?” he asked gently.
Not everything, she thought hysterically. He'd never seen her trying to be the femme fatale. He'd never seen her naked body in full sunlight, every ripple and extra pound of flesh visible. Last night had been different. Last night had been in the dark. Last night, she hadn't known it was him and she'd been buzzed. Why hadn't he brought any wine to go with that romantic picnic?
She jolted when she realized she'd spoken the question out loud.
“Because we're going to take full responsibility for what we're doing. No hiding behind misunderstandings, fuzzy vision, or inebriation. The next time I get between your legs, Melina, you're going to know full well who's there.”
“I-I—”
He cocked an eyebrow at her inability to form a comeback.
That made her mad again. Death by frustration, she vowed. He’d be well acquainted with the term before she was through with him.
Taking a deep breath and raising her chin defiantly, she pulled her tee over her head. She heard Rhys's sharp inhalation for breath immediately. Before she could change her mind, she shoved down her shorts, kicked them off, and prepared to dive into the water.
“Stop.”
She froze at the intense command in his voice that was accompanied by distinct splashing sounds. He was coming out of the water fast, his hand raised to echo his command. His gaze was riveted on her scantily clad body, the dark heat of it burning her in the best way possible.
He stopped a few feet away from her, water dripping from his hair and shoulders in sinuous streaks that she longed to lap up. All thoughts of teasing him into a frenzy vanished. She stumbled forward, wanting only to fall to her knees, drag his sodden suit down, and take him in her mouth. Instead, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “I bought a bikini at Holiday Harbor, but I'm not the bikini type so I thought I'd just—”
He snorted and moved toward her until he was right in front of her. “You are so the bikini type, Melina.” Gently grasping her wrists, he uncrossed her arms and held them out wide. The sheer appreciation on his face made her thighs clench with need. “But I love your lingerie. God, your skin looks so soft. Like cream. And your breasts…” He groaned.
She glanced down at her chest, where her breasts were cupped and lifted by her demi-bra. Her curves were average in size, but her nipples were hard and visibly straining beneath the fabric. Dropping her wrists, he reached out, cupped her breasts in both hands, then pinched her nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently before releasing her.
“Rhys,” she whimpered as he dipped his head, suckling first one nipple and then the other. He sucked them hard, as if he wanted to swallow her whole, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, ready to offer her entire self to him. With a groan, he moved to kiss her cleavage, nipping at her skin in a way she knew would leave her bruised. Marked in the best way possible. But then he was backing away from her. Again.
No, no, no.
“The only thing that would be more beautiful than you like this is you like this and wet. Emphasis on the wet part.”
Before she could respond, he turned and jumped back in the water.
“You coming in?” His question sounded strangled. As if he'd had to force the words out.
Despite the frustrating ache that he'd caused to buzz through her body again, she smiled. The ache was so much better than the nerves had been. Plus, she was starting to see what Rhys meant about unpredictability and sex being fun even when you were just playing at it. Granted, he had more experience, but that just gave her more to work with.
With a quick movement, she dived in after him.
* * *
Under the relative safety of the water, Rhys cupped his straining dick through his swim shorts. Frantically, he tried to think of something, anything, that would give him a modicum of control as he watched Melina start a lazy crawl toward him. Unfortunately, even thinking of his favorite Seinfeld episode couldn't prompt the shrinkage that had caused George Costanza such embarrassment. He was primed and ready to go, especially after her creative alphabetizing and the feel of her fingers feeding him, her eyes transfixed on his mouth the whole time. Seeing her in her sheer bra and underwear had almost driven him over the edge. So what the hell was he waiting for?
When Melina squealed and giggled, then dived under the water to see what had brushed against her, he thought, This.
He was waiting for this. Hell, yes, he wanted to enjoy her body, but he wanted so much more than that. The opportunity to play with her. Learn about her. Enjoy her. Once this weekend was over, he'd lose that chance. Melina was letting her guard down because she had an excuse, but once that excuse was gone, the awkwardness and shyness and differences would be back on her radar. In fact, they'd probably be worse.
He'd be Rhys, Max's brother, again. But he'd also be the guy who'd seen her vulnerable and, once she was back in her real world, Melina would remember that.
He had to pack a lifetime of loving Melina in two short days.
When she came back up for air, she was grinning. “You should've warned me we had company.”
He shrugged. “You're a nature girl. Fish. Bugs. What's the difference?”
She sniffed. “Surely you jest. Insects are higher on the evolutionary chain than fish, you know.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Really?” He knew a few random facts about insects simply because Melina would occasionally throw them into conversation. He'd even done some independent research because learning more about bugs was one pathetic step closer to learning more about Melina. This, however, he'd never heard before.
She floated on her back, closing her eyes, a contented smile on her lips that made him think of the expression she'd worn when she'd said his name and fallen asleep in his arms. “Mmm. Hmm.”
He paddled closer, watching the water hover shallowly above her soft, rounded belly and lush thighs. “And what do you base that theory on?” he asked absently, unable to tear his gaze away from her belly button. He wanted to dip his tongue into it and then work his way downward. “Darwin or Genesis?”
She yawned. “Both, actually. But you don't want to hear about that.”
Silently, he caught her by the waist and swung her around to face him. With a startled shriek, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he urged her legs around his waist. Her eyes rounded as his hardness settled into the cradle of her thighs. Unable to help himself, he pressed her body closer to his and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Right now, I want to hear whatever you want to tell me.”
She leaned back and her mouth opened, but then she hesitated. They stared at one another, so close he could see the golden flecks in her warm eyes. Cream and syrup, he thought, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her shoulder. He lingered, kissed her other shoulder, nipped at it, then laved the small sting with his tongue. “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Ladybug.”
She gasped, bit her lip, and blinked her eyes several times. Just as he leaned down to kiss her, she forced out a laugh, shook her head, and pushed away, looking back at him from over her shoulder. “According to creationism, fish were created on day five, insects on day six, along with man and woman. For evolutionists, life originates in primeval oceans. It's one of the few things the two can agree on. Fish first. Insects after.”
“Hmm. I'll be sure to remember that little fact. Come here.”
He reached for her, but she swam away again, prompting him to growl in frustration. She'd never teased this way with him. Max, yes. He'd watched her and his brother flirt and touch each other with affection while he did nothing but stand apart, wishing things were different. He liked her teasing far more than he'd ever thought possible.
“I find it interesting, you know—the theory that man and insects were created on the same day. Just like men, male insects are quite willing to perform certain mating rituals in order to get what they want from a female.”
Eyes narrowing, he got the distinct feeling she was trying to rebuild a wall between them. He swam closer and, sure enough, she paddled backward. What had he done to scare her? Testing her, he treaded water but let himself float imperceptibly closer. “You make it sound so calculated. Women—and I'm assuming female bugs—have their agenda, their needs, too.”
“Tell that to the female bedbug. When she lets a male get close to her, it pierces her body cavity with its penis to deposit sperm. Seems pretty calculated to me.”
He frowned. “What are you saying, Melina? You're afraid I'm going to hurt you? Male insects don't exactly have it easy, you know. Everyone knows what happens to a male praying mantis when he mates.”
Confusion swept over her expression, making her look like the little girl he'd met when her parents had first come to help his parents. Again, she seemed to force out a little laugh. “The female only occasionally bites off his head. Only when it's well deserved, I'm sure.” She shook her head, her expression growing somber. “Seriously, of course I don't think you're going to hurt me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know how things go. That's why I want to learn all I can about physically pleasing a man. The flowers. Chocolates. Deep conversation that a man puts out when he's interested in a woman? It's all part of the mating ritual. A man puts forth great effort to catch a woman's attention so he can get what he wants.”
Not liking what he was hearing, he circled her like a shark, noting the increased color in her cheeks and the rapidness of her breaths. “I'm still not getting your point.”
“My point is…you don't need to do it. The teasing. The picnic. The compliments.” She waved the air separating them. “The little lessons on trust and submission. All this. I don't need to be wooed, Rhys. I'll give you what you want. I'll give you anything you want this weekend.”
Her message was implied but clear. This weekend, but not longer. He lunged for her and she squealed, barely managing to elude his grasp this time.
Despite the slow build of anger inside him, he tried grinning wolfishly. “I'm the teacher here, remember, baby? Or have you decided there's a thing or two you can teach me? If so, I'll spread myself out on that picnic blanket right now so you can show me your stuff. You'll get my point loud and clear.”
Her eyes widened, and he could see her thinking. What she said, however, nearly blew him out of the water. “What about spreading yourself out on a bed and letting me tie you down? Would that be unpredictable enough for you?”