"Enjoying the show?" I say, my voice husky. Maybe all isn’t lost. The universe seems to have taken pity on me after all—it’s handed me the perfect chance to win my bet against Calder.
He gives a slow nod. His shoulders are tense, and for a moment I think he's about to lunge toward me and grab me to him. My heart careens madly at the thought, but as much as I want to, I know it's a terrible idea to just fall into his arms. In this moment, my restraint gives me the power—and I'm not about to give that up anytime soon.
"Here are the shoes," I say, grabbing the sandals from the floor and tossing them at him. "That's everything."
He looks down at the pile of clothing in his hands and then back at me.
"You said it yourself," he says, his voice deep and rough. "When I leave this car, it's over. We'll probably never see each other again."
He wants me to crack, to be the first one to give into the baser sensations running through my flesh. But I know I'm stronger than he expects.
"Probably not," I say casually.
Still he remains in the car, his eyes fixed on me. His grip on the clothes is so tight that his knuckles are white. I feel my own resistance start to crumble the longer we sit here, and I know he has to leave if I'm to get out of this with my pride—and my sanity—still intact.
"Well?" I say. "You've got the clothes. Shouldn't you head back to the house?"
He frowns. "I guess I should."
I'm afraid for a brief moment that he'll stay anyway, but it appears that the intense moment between us has passed. Calder opens the door and climbs out, leaving me alone in the car.
And—oh yeah—completely naked.
CHAPTER TEN
This isn't a high point of my life, that's for sure.
No purse, no keys, no phone, no clothes. I'm not really sure what to do, but all of my options look pretty bleak, and most of them involve me going back to Calder's mansion. I reach over the back of the seat for the emergency car kit I keep in my trunk. There's a thin blanket inside, and I wrap it around my shoulders. On top of everything else, the nasty, rainy weather ensures my self-induced imprisonment will be freezing.
But in spite of it all, I'd do everything again in a heartbeat. It was completely worth it to watch Calder’s face, to see him, for once, flustered and overwhelmed. That little taste of power had an intense effect on me, and I'm surprised at how aroused I am. I feel intoxicated.
I lie down again, the emergency blanket wrapped around me. I'm so high after my mini-victory that I tell myself it's all right to slide a finger down my body—between my breasts, across my belly, toward the sensitive place between my legs.
It's all right to imagine it’s Calder touching me instead.
I can still feel his breath on my neck, his warm fingers grazing my skin. All the desire that’s been building over the past couple days comes to the surface. My whole body reacts to the gentle caress of my fingers. Prickles dance across my skin as I imagine what might have happened between us had either Calder or I been the tiniest bit weaker. What might have happened if I’d let my guard down—or if Calder had learned that I spied on him the other night. My hand slips along my wetness, and I bite back a moan.
And then I see the movement out of the corner of my eye.
I jerk upright, clutching the blanket to my chest.
Calder stands outside the car, a bag in his hand. His mouth is slightly open, his eyes burning with such desire that I feel as if he can see right through my meager covering. He reaches for the door handle.
"What are you doing?" I squeak, scrambling back against the other door as the cold air rushes in around him. "You're supposed to be back at the house!"
"I was," he says, leaning through the open door. His voice is low and thick. "But I felt bad for leaving you, so I brought you your things."
"Fine. Leave them here, then."
He shakes his head. He still stands halfway in and halfway out of the car.
"You're not supposed to be here," I say desperately. "You're not supposed to watch someone when they… when they're…”
I remember my actions in the secret passageway and my cheeks burn even more. This can’t be happening. I want to run away again, but there’s nowhere to go.
Calder takes no pity on my obvious distress.
"Tell me you weren't thinking about me," he says.
"What?" I choke out.
"Just now. Tell me you weren't thinking about me as you touched yourself, and I'll turn around and walk right back to the house."
I'm having difficulty breathing, but I force myself to look him in the eye. "And if I was?"
His own eyes are half-closed as he watches me, and when he speaks, his voice is little more than a growl.
"Then you're in trouble, Ms. Frazer."
He dives into the car, slamming into me so hard that my head knocks back against the window behind me. But he either doesn't notice or doesn't care, and before I can even utter a sound of pain, his lips are on mine.
For the briefest moment, I consider pushing him away. But as desire flares between us, bright and powerful, I lose what little sense I have left. I grab the front of his shirt in my fist and pull him harder against me.
His mouth moves against mine, rough and unyielding, while one of his hands slips around my neck. The other moves between us, yanking the emergency blanket from my grip and tossing it aside.
"Fuck, Lily," he murmurs against my mouth. "Fuck, I want you."
His hand moves across my breast, down my belly, to my hip. He drags me toward him, holding me against the bulge in his pants, and all the while his lips are moving against my own. I meet his rough kisses with equal passion, slipping my tongue into his mouth to dance with his.
He half-lifts me toward him, his hand moving over my bare ass. His fingers press against my flesh as they slide across the curve of my bottom and slip between my legs. I quiver at that intimate touch.
He tears his mouth away from mine.
"Tell me," he rasps.
I'm just as breathless as he is. "Tell you what?"
"Tell me what you were thinking about when you touched yourself." His finger moves along the edge of my swollen lips but no further. "What made you this wet?"
Heat washes over my face. "I—I don't know."
"Tell me," he begs. He slides back, but only so he can bend his head to my neck. He trails kisses down the column of my throat. Both of his hands move to my breasts, squeezing and kneading as his hot tongue slides over my skin. My fingers dig into his shoulders.