His gaze moved over Sibyl’s face in the photograph. He noted the colour of her eyes and it came to him there was another reason he knew she’d climaxed. Her eyes shifted to the colour of sherry the moment before it happened. He knew, he’d watched in triumphant satisfaction.
He mentally shook off the pleasant memories of watching Sibyl’s orgasm and focussed again on the photo.
The family was obviously loving, their arms thrown around each other. Sibyl and her father were caught amidst laughter (something he had still never seen, although he’d heard it) while the two red-headed women, old and young, were making faces at the camera.
Colin put the frame down and his eyes moved to glance around the room. They stopped at the window seat which had a book sitting in it like someone had just been interrupted while reading. Then they went to the dressing table which had a feminine mess of cosmetics but also held a variety of delicate, exquisite bottles, all with no labels.
As he was studying the bottles, the cat jumped agilely on the bed and surveyed him curiously for about two seconds then lay gracefully on his side and started cleaning his back foot.
Colin had the distinct feeling that something was not right with this picture.
Before he could decide what that was, there was a clamour somewhere in the house and he knew that Sibyl and Mallory were back.
The clamour spread, Colin heard it come up the stairs and then the dog bounded in the room and stopped clumsily at his side of the bed. He lifted Colin’s hand with his nose and bumped it up so it was resting on the dog’s head.
“Do you want something to eat?” He heard Sibyl ask.
Colin’s attention turned from the dog to see Sibyl was standing at the door. Regardless of her makeup, she looked about sixteen years old.
He felt his gut clench with unease.
When he didn’t answer, she went on, “Drink?”
“I’m fine, Sibyl,” Colin answered, surveying her closely.
He fought his body’s demand to drag her back into bed while she looked over her shoulder and out the door.
“Do you want a…” she hesitated, looked back at him and then tossed her head in an act of frustration, about what only she was privy, “tour of my house?”
There was something meaningful to that offer, something outside the realm of their bargain, something that made that unease in his gut spread.
He forced his tone to be gentle. “I’d very much like a tour of your house but later. Now I want you to come back to bed.”
She hesitated then walked to the side of the bed. Her hands at the waistband of her jeans, she kicked off her shoes.
Something made him ask quietly, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
Her eyes flew to his. They were back to the colour of sherry, with but a hint of green close to the pupils.
Without a word, she shook her head.
Then she took off her clothes swiftly and, with a graceful gesture of her arm, tossed them across the room. Then even more swiftly, she lifted the covers and slid under them.
She resumed her position on her belly, her head turned away from him. Even naked in bed at his side, her position closed her off to him, removing herself from him and Colin didn’t like it.
At all.
He slid the covers down again to expose her back and ran the flat of his palm up from the gentle curve of her rounded bottom up to the expanse of smooth skin between her shoulders.
And again, as he did, Sibyl trembled.
He stared at her back, her hair and realised she was all his.
For two months.
And he gloried in that thought.
He pulled her hair away from her neck and kissed her between her shoulder blades.
Then he lifted his lips to her ear. “You’re doing very well.”
She didn’t hesitate in her response.
“Thanks.” Her voice betrayed she meant none of the gratitude that word meant. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”
That feeling of unease spread precariously close to his cold heart.
“Sibyl,” he called.
She didn’t turn to him and sighed before asking, “Can’t we just go to sleep?”
“No,” he answered honestly. Sibyl Godwin, Colin had long since decided, would not get very much rest that night.
Nor, likely, for the next two months.
She rolled, dislodging his hand and lay on her side, up on her elbow. He settled on his elbow facing her while she pulled the covers over her breasts. He noticed her eyes were no longer sherry, they were back to emerald. The effect of the colour change was extraordinary.
“Well, of course, you have to get your money’s worth,” she snapped tartly after she caught his eyes.
“I’ve already had it,” he replied truthfully.
At his remark, her eyes rounded and he watched in fascination as she pulled her lips between her teeth for a moment as if literally biting back words she wanted desperately to say.
And her eyes melted back to sherry.
That’s when he knew he could kiss her.
Much later, when he lifted his head and she followed it with hers to keep in contact with his mouth, he finished what he meant to say.
Smoothly, in one fluid movement, he slid inside her magnificent, tight wetness and, while he did, she exposed her throat to him as she arched her back and neck in an open demonstration of the pleasure she felt at allowing him inside.
Her legs lifted up, her knees at his sides so high they were nearly tucked into the pits of his arms, and her thighs tightened against him. This action drew him exquisitely deeper into her.
“Sibyl,” he called her name as he settled inside her, not moving and practically gritting his teeth with the effort, she was so splendid.
Her head righted, hair wildly tumbled on the pillows framing her passion-filled face.
“Colin,” she whispered, his name from her lips, said in that husky tone of sex, caused his body to twitch involuntarily.
He fought back his response and warned, “I may have had my money’s worth but you still owe me two months and I’m going to have them.”
Her eyes rounded again but her hips moved, inviting the movement of his.
“Sibyl –” he started but her hands were urgent on his waist, her nails digging into him.
“Yes, Colin, yes,” she breathed, impatient. “Two months. Now, will you just please move?”
Colin grinned.
Then he did as Sibyl asked.
Chapter Nine
Danger
The phone was ringing.
Sibyl decided to ignore it, her answerphone would get it. She was too deliciously tired to bother.
When it stopped ringing, abruptly, she smiled sleepily but her smile was short-lived.
“Hullo?”
She heard this said in a husky, baritone voice.
Instantly awake, she twisted violently in the bed, pulling the covers over her breasts, just in time to hear Colin say, “She’s right here.” His clay-coloured eyes, rimmed with their lush lashes, slid to her. “It’s for you.”
Ignoring the rush of warmth in her belly at the sight of his eyes and him in her bed, she snatched the phone out of his hand and covered the mouthpiece. “Of course it’s for me, who would it be for? Mallory?”
He smiled.
This smile was again lethal but not with danger, instead with the heady, pleasant aftermath of sex.
A lot of sex.
A lot of really, really good sex.
She ignored that too (and what it did to her belly, namely, making it flutter) and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Who was that?” her mother asked.
Sibyl sat bolt upright in bed, still holding the sheets to her chest.
“Mom?”
“Yes, baby, it’s your mother. Your sister phoned and told me you had a sure thing so I had to call.”
Sibyl dropped her forehead into her hand, rested her elbow on her thigh and closed h
er eyes in despair.
Her bloody, bloody sister.
Her bloody, bloody mother.
Who else on earth had two relatives that were so interested in their daughter/sibling’s sex life?
“It appears she was right!” her mother crowed ecstatically.
“What time is it there? It has to be…” Sibyl twisted around to look at the clock on the bedside table.
What she saw was Colin on his side, resting with his head in his hand and watching her, his eyes soft with interest.
And his eyes looked good soft with interest.
She twisted back so fast she was pretty certain she pulled something.
“It’s midnight, baby, and I’m about to go out and commune with nature,” her mother answered. “I thought I’d give you a buzz before I draw down the moon to see how your night went but I guess I don’t have to ask.”
“Mom –”
“Is he cute?”
“Mom –”
“Did you have an orgasm?”
“Mom!”
“What? Oh, yes, you probably can’t talk now, since he’s there. And if I take up your time, you might miss a morning quickie.”
Sibyl returned to her defeated position of head in hand and she expelled a frustrated sigh. She loved her mother, she’d lay down her life for her but sometimes she was just too much. And now was definitely one of those times.
Her mother continued. “Just know I’m glad your dry spell is over and I hope your father and I meet him in April. Will we meet him in April?”
Sibyl’s body went rigid.
In all the emotional drama, she’d forgotten about her parent’s visit in April. Their visit was smack in the middle of Colin’s two months. Two months where he was to have her when he said, where he said.
The very thought of those words made her shiver and, she had to admit, this shiver had not a thing to do with fear or gloom.
Sibyl powered through the shiver and began, “Mom –”
“I know, it’s too soon. I hope to meet him though. He must be something special to catch your fancy. See you soon, baby.”
Then she rang off without giving Sibyl a chance to say good-bye.
Sibyl pressed the phone off with her thumb and sat staring at it, thinking maybe she should throw it through the window.
Sibyl was not a morning person and this morning was no exception. Her mother only exacerbated the problem.
Before she could engage in her violent act against the phone, Colin slid it out of her hand.
She didn’t watch him replace it in the receiver; she just plopped back on the pillows with a heavy sigh.
Her life was completely out-of-control and she only had herself to blame.
“That sounded like an interesting conversation,” Colin remarked.
Considering the fact that she’d only uttered a handful of words, and most of them were “Mom”, she threw him a killing look where only her eyes moved sideways but she didn’t speak.
When she didn’t, he did. “I imagine she wasn’t too thrilled when a man answered the phone first thing in the morning.”
“Oh no,” Sibyl replied, slowly closing her eyes. “One could say she was beside herself with glee.”
No response.
Sibyl opened her eyes again.
He was back to resting on his elbow, watching her with warm, inquisitive eyes.
She decided to ignore the warm, inquisitive eyes too. She didn’t want to think of a warm, inquisitive Colin. If she did, she might shiver again.
“My mother is…” How could she put it? “Odd.”
He decided that the conversation was finished and she knew this because his head began to descend.
“Colin, we have to talk,” Sibyl blurted.
The descent stopped.
“That doesn’t sound good.” His voice was guarded.
“My parents are coming to visit me,” she told him.
His eyebrows came up lazily. This, for some reason, made her stomach do a flip flop.
Regardless, Sibyl persevered, “In April.”
He still simply regarded her.
“For two weeks,” she finished.
“And?” he prompted.
“And, well… you and… well… me...”
He grinned. This grin was wicked.
She was beginning to realise Colin liked the upper hand, which he had a great deal with regard to her.
His head descended again and he brushed his lips against hers before saying, “I see.”
“We’ll need to take a little break for two weeks and –”
“Oh no.” His lips brushed hers again, his tone firm, and he finished. “A deal’s a deal.”
“Colin!” She pulled her head away (as far away as it could go, resting on a pillow). “I can’t exactly say, ‘Sorry, Mom… Dad, gotta go meet my lover for a rousing round of bed play’. I don’t think so.”
“Bed play?” His voice was amused.
She sat up again and twisted around and Colin pulled away to avoid her crashing into him, settling on his back.
“Colin! This is serious!” she exclaimed, looking down at him.
“I’m taking it seriously. It’s my two months.”
“I’ll make it up to you in May,” she offered.
“If you want this, I’ll take all of May and three weeks in June.”
Sibyl gasped.
“That’s another,” she stopped to calculate it, “entire month!” she finished.
“Yes it is. And I’ll want to see you sometime during those two weeks in April.”
“That’s not possible and that’s not fair,” she returned sharply and a little desperately.
“That’s the only offer on the table,” Colin retorted firmly.
She realised she’d started shaking and this wasn’t a good kind of shaking or the scared or melancholy king, it was the angry kind.
He was heartless.
She didn’t think she could to it for another month. Not that “it” was that bad. In fact “it” was mind-bogglingly, earth-shatteringly good. One could even say it was otherworldly good.
And it was the best she’d ever had.
By far.
Although, she hadn’t had that much but this was something else. It made her toes curl just thinking about it.
How she could not really like him (at all) and still find him so amazingly attractive was beyond her. Though, she had to admit, sex with Colin was simply unbelievable.
But he’d still paid for it, which still made her his whore, which made her hate herself, so much, she could hardly bear it.
She plopped back on the pillows and closed her eyes again.
She had no choice and she hated that even more than she hated herself at that moment (which was saying something).
“Fine,” she snapped the word out so curtly it sounded like half a syllable.
“Nice to see you give in gracefully.”
She opened her eyes to see him looming over her.
His eyes were no longer warm but instead they were hard and glittering.
Even obviously angry, he was so damned handsome, she felt her breath catch even as she felt her temper unravel.
She had been wrong; Colin in her bedroom wasn’t laughable. It was seductive. He was so out of place he looked like a conquering avenger, enjoying the spoils of victory.
Which he was, in a way. She was spoils.
“Perhaps I should remind you what you’re giving in to.” This was said in a smooth, even tone that she was realising was his very-angry-but-controlling-it-by-the-skin-of-my-teeth voice.
His hand was under the covers, the warmth of it sliding across her ribs, down her belly making her muscles contract lusciously along its path.
In the face of his tone, she felt like throwing caution to the wind, one could say she’d had enough, “Trust me, I remember.”
“It certainly doesn’t seem like it to me.”
She turned toward him quickly, dislodging his hand, wanting him to
understand (if he had it in him) at the same time as she completely lost her rather formidable temper.
“What do you want me to say? That it was good? Yes, it was good!”
He didn’t seem to like being interrupted in his task, his strong hands found her hips and he fell to his back, taking her with him.
She wasn’t finished, however, and she pressed her hands against his chest to lift herself which he allowed.
Slightly.
When he stopped allowing it by wrapping his arms around her, one tight at her waist, one forearm pressing up her spine, Sibyl kept talking. “Bottom line, you paid for me and that doesn’t feel good but I need the money. So I have no choice, you’re right, a deal’s a deal. But I love my parents and I’m not going to tell them I have to drop everything to go be some man’s whore. And you’ve given me no other options. So, if I’m a little pouty in the face of all of that, you’ll just have to get over it!”
His eyes, already hard, turned to stone.
“I have another rule,” was his response to this diatribe and, in a belated act of self-preservation, she pressed her hands against his chest to pull further away but his arm at her waist tightened and his hand slid up her spine until his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and forced her to descend until she was but an inch away from his face. “If you call yourself my whore again, it becomes four months.”
Caution was not in the wind; caution was twirling around in a tornado.
“I’m your whore,” she repeated stubbornly.
“Do it again and it’s five months.”
“I’m… your… whore,” Sibyl gritted out between clenched teeth and Colin whipped her around to her back, him on top, and pried her legs apart with his knee. When he did, she goaded, “That’s it, Colin, prove me right.”
His hips settled between her legs but instead of doing what he’d started, he snarled, “Christ, you’re the most annoying woman I’ve ever met.”
“And you are the most heartless man I’ve ever met,” she returned.
They stared at each other and, even though they’d barely moved, both were breathing heavily.
Sibyl had the bizarre desire to scratch his eyes out and throw her arms around him and say she was sorry, both at the same time.