Playing His Game Part 8

"Because I'm the man."

She couldn't hold back a laugh.

He dropped the script and crossed his arms over his chest. "What?"

"That's silly. We have an equal relations.h.i.+p. That should include the bedroom."

He curled his lips. "I don't like it when you get all aggressive."

She forced herself to become boneless. "Is this better?"

Bobby grimaced before he turned his attention back to the script he picked up from his lap.

"Bobby, I want you..." She trailed her fingers across his bicep.

He shrugged her off. "Not right now. I'm busy."

"Fine!" She turned away from him and pulled the blanket over herself with a jerky movement. She

viciously turned the k.n.o.b on her bedside lamp. They didn't speak. He was too busy, and she was too angry. His rejection stung, and she forced back tears. She refused to let him know he had hurt her. It was long after Bobby had turned off his light and almost immediately started to snore before Mya was finally able to get to sleep.

Chapter Ten.

Bubbles When Mya let herself into Roarke's apartment, she heard nothing but silence. She looked for him in the kitchen and living room, then edged her way down the hall. "Roarke?"

"In the bathroom."

His voice was m.u.f.fled by the closed door. She entered the bedroom and stood awkwardly in front of the bed.

"Come in."

"Oh." Mya walked over to the black door and pushed it open. Her mouth dropped when she saw he had transformed the bathroom into a lovers' dream. Dozens of tiny tea light candles lined the lip of the Jacuzzi tub. Soft music issued from the stereo on the counter, and a bottle of champagne and two gla.s.ses were at Roarke's elbow where the wall and Jacuzzi met to form a nook.

Most of all, there was Roarke, already in the bubbles. Everything below the tops of his nipples was hidden under the water, and she wasn't naive enough to think he wore a speedo. Dark hair lightly dusted his arms before it became more profuse across his chest. Mya stared at his nipples without thought, until she realized where her eyes rested. A blush swept across her cheeks, and she lifted her eyes immediately, while she tried to ignore the flush on her cheeks and the glint of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes.

"Come on in. The water's warm and slippery." Roarke's lips twitched as she got even more fl.u.s.tered at his suggestive words.

Mya crossed her arms over her chest. "You want me to undress in here?"

He sighed. "I've seen all of you now, Mya. Does it really matter?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." With exaggerated movements, he took a washcloth from the wall shelf to cover his eyes. "I can't see you."

"Don't peek," she hissed at him as her fingers fumbled with the b.u.t.tons on the side of her wrap-around skirt. Then she pulled off the halter-top and paused for a long moment. She refused to acknowledge her disappointment when he didn't even try to steal a look. She had worn the blue set for nothing. She had constantly pulled the thong out of her bottom for no reason. Well, it was her own fault. He would have looked if not for her instinctive protest about getting undressed in front of him. Mya sighed as she folded her s.h.i.+rt and laid it beside the skirt on the counter.

Roarke lifted his head in her direction without removing the washcloth. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You sighed."

A wicked idea occurred to Mya. "Well, I got sticky from an ice cream cone on my way over."

He shrugged, and still the washcloth remained in place. "The bath will take care of that."

"I think I might need a washcloth." She blushed as she asked for it. It had been the only one on the shelf.

Roarke froze and wondered if he had misinterpreted something. He handed her the cloth and kept his eyes squeezed shut. Against his brain's instructions, his left eyelid peeled up. He watched as she washed her chest with the cloth. She seemed to be oblivious to his presence. His other eye opened, and he gazed at her body.

After his initial double take, he realized she didn't wear the usual white bra and panties. His body hardened at the sight of her flesh displayed in the blue thong and plunging bra. The material invited him to touch, and his mouth got dry as he imagined how it would feel to run his hands over the cups, then slide down her stomach to touch the velvet panties. He would start at the string waistband and touch the smooth skin at her hip before he moved his hands to her b.u.t.tocks. Once he squeezed her cheeks, he would ease his fingers forward, until he touched her velvet.

She started to turn, and Roarke snapped his eyes shut. He heard the rustle of fabric against skin and barely managed to fight back a groan as he pictured the scanty panties as they dropped away to reveal her completely. It was a relief when she slid into the water, and he was able to open his eyes again.

When Mya turned around after she removed the underwear and pinned her hair up, she saw the flush on his cheeks. Obviously, he had seen her. She resisted the urge to preen for a compliment and ignored the discomfort she felt because she had enticed him to look.

As she settled lower into the water and sat on the floor of the tub rather than a step, she realized it was indeed slippery. The water was perfectly warm and slid across her skin like satin. "What's in the water?"

"Bath oil."

She lifted a handful of bubbles. "Just oil?"

He nodded.

Mya sighed when she leaned her head back against the cus.h.i.+oned rim. The tub's lip made the perfect pillow. "It's wonderful."

"I buy it at a little shop on Fourth. They blend it for me." Although the clerk had been mildly surprised when Roarke asked him to add pheromones to the mixture, because he hadn't changed the ingredients since he first tried a sample. So far, he didn't notice a difference. He always wanted Mya, and he didn't need pheromones to stimulate his desire. It was impossible to tell if they had affected her in any way yet. "I'll give you the name and address before you leave, if you want."

She shook her head. "I'm sure I couldn't afford it."

He lifted a brow. "Sure you can, now that Bobby's career is taking off." His mouth twisted, and he was barely able to spit out her fiance's name.

Mya couldn't hold back a sharp laugh. "I don't think he would buy it for me."

Roarke felt himself frowning. Instead of pursuing the obvious question-why not-he said, "You could always buy it for yourself."

She shook her head again. "Most of my check still goes to bills. A lot of Bobby's money was eaten up by...stuff."

Before Roarke could stop himself, he said, "He's used $500,000 already?"

Her mouth dropped open. "It wasn't $500,000. It was about $100,000."

He could add liar to his list of reasons to hate Bobby. Roarke could reveal Bobby's duplicity that second. He had records to back it up. He could show her that her fiance had hidden $400,000 from her, and she was still slaved away in a menial job for no good reason. He could deal their relations.h.i.+p a crippling blow. He looked at her confused expression, prepared to lay out the facts.

He could destroy her with the truth. Miserable, Roarke said, "Oh. I must be thinking of someone else." He averted his eyes to the champagne, because he knew he was a terrible liar. But she didn't know him, so she wouldn't be able to tell.

"Ah." Mya studied him as he opened the champagne with a pop. He barely lost any foam before he poured them each a gla.s.s. His shoulders were stiff, and he seemed to deliberately avoid her eyes. Had he lied to her? She pushed that thought away quickly, because she knew it would lead her to thoughts about Bobby she didn't want to explore. "Thank you." She took the gla.s.s he held out and sipped. Bubbles tickled her nose and caused it to wrinkle.

He stared at her and wondered if she knew how adorable she was. With her nose wrinkled, the freckles blurred together, and her eyes got crinkly, which gave her a giddy look. "Do you like champagne?"

She shrugged, but took another drink. "I've never really had it before. One gla.s.s years ago at my brother's wedding is all."

"Oh." Roarke watched as she drained the gla.s.s in four swallows. He almost felt wicked when he refilled it for her before he took a first sip from his gla.s.s.

Mya sat up, rolling her shoulders. "Does this have those jet things?"

"Yes." Roarke lifted a small panel on the wall to turn on the jets. Within seconds, the water bubbled around them, and the foam on the bath stirred agitatedly. He saw her roll her neck. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Mya took another sip of the champagne, allowing its bubbling warmth to spread through her, bringing a haze of relaxation with it. "It was a long day."

"Your neck hurts?"

"And my shoulders." Mya's eyes widened as he put his gla.s.s in the corner and slid toward her. "What are you doing?" Her voice emerged as a squeak, and she covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with her arms even though he couldn't see them through the thick layer of bubbles.

"I'm going to give you a ma.s.sage."

She shook her head as he took her arm and pulled her up and away from the edge of the tub. As he brought her back with him to his corner, she said, "You don't have to."

Roarke settled on the step and pushed her down so that she sat on the bottom of the tub with her back to him. "I want to."

"Really, there's no need...ahh." She moaned when his hands settled on her shoulders and slid across her skin with ease because of the oily water. As he worked the muscles, she slowly relaxed.

Roarke couldn't concentrate when she made breathless little sounds in the back of her throat. They grew more frequent as he dug his fingers deep into her skin to loosen the tension. As she grew relaxed, she leaned against him until her back was pressed against his stomach. Her lower back was a mere inch from his groin, and he gave into temptation. He thrust his hips forward just a bit. He felt her stiffen when his erection touched her, and he redoubled his efforts with the ma.s.sage.

Her eyes widened when he pressed into her back and Mya started to pull away, but the ma.s.sage felt too good to stop. Her eyes grew heavy as the champagne and his touch made her too languid to move. Instead, she cuddled closer and left no room for Roarke to continue the ma.s.sage. Her neck rested against his right forearm, and she rubbed her cheek against the wet hair. "That feels good."

"I'm not doing anything." His voice was husky, and he cleared his throat.

"Your hands..." She trailed off, unable to summon the energy to explain that the way he continued to apply pressure on a particularly painful spot caused it to relax.

Roarke lifted her and slid off the step so that he sat on the tub's floor. He settled her into his lap and held her against him. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and she didn't protest. To his surprise, she s.h.i.+fted so that she was closer to him and leaned her head back against his shoulder. She didn't mention his erection where it pressed against her bottom, and he tried to ignore the pleasure/pain of his erection's proximity to her folds, because he knew he couldn't make love to her yet.

When he slid his hand up her stomach to just under her breast, he held his breath. He waited for her protest for several endless seconds. When she still didn't say anything, he flicked his thumb across the turgid peak. She moaned a little, then s.h.i.+fted restlessly and brought his erection more fully between her legs. You're not doing anything today, he reminded himself even as he thrust his hips up to nestle his shaft nearer her folds.

Mya felt him move again and knew she should pull away, but she was too sleepy. Her lids felt weighted, and she yawned. Besides, it felt too good to move. Why bother? They hadn't really done anything.

Roarke sighed when he heard her yawn. The explanation for her compliance became clear-too much champagne coupled with the hot bath and ma.s.sage. "Are you sleepy?"

"Um hmm."

Despite his frustration, Roarke was able to smile at her hazy response. He moved away from Mya before he propped her against the side of the tub while he got out. His erection was painful, but he wouldn't do anything to relieve it while she was in this condition.

He wiped away the foam and some of the oil with one of the towels before he lifted her from the tub. They both needed to shower, but he didn't want to have to hold her up in the large shower stall while he washed both of them. She could remove the oily residue later, once she woke up.

She leaned against him, sweet and cuddly, while he dried her off. He lifted her again, and she sighed. Mya curled against him like she was made to fit in the cradle of his arms when he carried her into the bedroom. He balanced her with one arm while he pulled back the new cover, then laid her on the silver silk sheets. He put the blanket over her before he returned to the bathroom to blow out the candles, shower, and get dressed.

Roarke dropped his pants when he realized he was at least a little sleepy. He looked at himself in the mirror, traded wicked grins with his reflection, and lifted his pants to put them back on the shelf.

He reentered the bedroom and stopped to look at her for a moment. She slept peacefully, and tiny sighs issued from her every few minutes. He walked over to the bed and slid in on the free side. She rolled right into his arms and pressed her bottom against his groin as he wrapped his arms around her. As they spooned, Roarke realized he really was tired, and his eyes closed too, until they were both asleep.

Chapter Eleven.

After The Nap Mya stretched, and her legs tangled with another pair. They felt different from Bobby's. She opened her eyes slowly and felt disoriented. Roarke lay beside her with his eyes wide open as he watched her. He had a strand of her hair wrapped around his finger. A gentle smile teased his lips. "What happened?" She sounded hoa.r.s.e, and her head ached.

"You took a nap. I joined you."

"Oh." She frowned, while she tried to remember what had precipitated the nap. She remembered the bath and ma.s.sage; the two gla.s.ses of champagne; deliberately enticing him to look at her... She groaned.

"What's wrong?" Roarke touched her cheek.

"I feel a little sick."

"It'll pa.s.s. A shower will perk you up."

She bit her lip and mustered her courage. She didn't feel like they had, but she needed to ask. "Did we...?"

Roarke's eyes widened. "Of course not!" He winced at his sharp tone, but couldn't pretend she hadn't offended him. "You were in no shape, and I'm not into pa.s.sivity."

Behind his anger, Mya could see genuine hurt in his eyes, and it gave her a pang in the pit of her stomach. "I'm sorry." Why had she apologized? It was a logical a.s.sumption that he would have taken her when she was pa.s.sed out. It would have fit in with his ruthless personality.

But he wasn't really ruthless. She could see that from the way he treated her. For two weeks, the opportunity to force her into his bed had been open to him. Mya was in no position to refuse him, but he hadn't pressed her. He hadn't done anything but try to please her. She was always the focus of their encounters. Roarke seemed concerned only with her gratification.

He shrugged. "Do you want that shower?" His tone was still cool, although he hadn't meant for it to emerge that way. She had every right to a.s.sume he would take advantage of her. Hadn't he already?

She nodded and slid from the bed. When she stood up, Mya realized she was completely naked. She froze and scanned the room for her clothes.