Page 245 of The Skeikh's Games

She raised her glass after all, clinking it with his. “Hear, hear,” she said, sipping the drink at her own risk and wondering what might happen if, as Avery suggested, she quit “playing games” and simply gave into her obvious and powerful desires.

Well, she decided firmly, peering back into Rahm’s bottomless eyes with dubious intent. No time like the present to find out…

Twelve

Rahm breathed in the night air, as sleek and sultry as his companion as they emerged from the club to find the streets of South Beach deserted. Carly’s skin was flushed and her eyes smoky as they walked, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, her body language screaming for more.

“Shall I walk you home?” he asked as they stood, restless and close on the empty sidewalk. Back inside the club the sounds of the live band throbbed and moaned beside the closed door, making him wistful for the intense flirtation that had followed her sudden and unexpected – but more than welcome – appearance.

Carly paused, long hair framing her beautiful face, eyes full of promise as she shook her head. “I don’t quite feel like going home yet,” she murmured, subtly sliding her arm through his so that they linked at the elbows. Her skin was warm and inviting, making him lean closer as he replied, “Funny, me either?”

“Can we walk?” she asked. “Just… walk?”

He nodded and, without another word, began doing just that. Their pace was slow but purposeful, more like a dance set to the music of the street. Darkness pooled where streetlights were absent, but Carly’s eyes glowed bright enough for him to bask in them all night long. As he gently guided her toward his rented room on Mango Street, he intended to do just that.

His body was alive with anticipation as they grew silent with each passing step. Despite the lack of words, Rahm could feel her body language loud and clear as her hip gently sashayed against his with every long, languid step. In her work heels, she was nearly his height and he enjoyed not just the swing of her hips but the scrape of her long hair against his shoulder as they approached Club 9, a small, cubist building tucked back a few blocks from Ocean Beach Boulevard.

“A little presumptuous of you, don’t you think?” Carly asked as they approached the lobby of the exclusive hotel, where rooms often ran over $3,000 a night. With 24-hour concierge, room, spa and butler service, it was but a pittance and Rahm often took his nightly conquests there. It was a good escape from the penthouse apartment high atop the ocean which, while romantic, meant entanglements he often preferred not to deal with. He didn’t anticipate such with Carly, but then again… a man in his position could never be quite sure. Besides, he reasoned, nodding to the doorman as they were swept inside the inviting lobby, after bedding Carly that night, he could satisfy his duties in South Beach and move on to the next American city on his list.

Maybe Vegas, he was already thinking as they stood, giddily awaiting the elevator. Or perhaps LA?

The elevator door dinged, startling Rahm from his reverie. Drifting inside to hold the door for her, Carly held him back by his arm, eyes curious and almost… hurt… as they peered back at him.

“Where did you go just now?” she asked, as perceptive as she was beautiful. And strong, apparently, as her arm prevented him from taking another step.

“What?” he asked, surprised by this American woman’s ability to read his thoughts. “I’m right here.”

She released him, but stood distinctly apart from him as he punched in his private code before drifting even further from him during the elevator ride up to the fourth floor of the small, exclusive hotel.

“For a moment there,” she said with startling prescience, her sleek eyes turning observant and wicked, “I thought you might be imagining where you might go after these ‘negotiations’ are over.”

He laughed aloud, sincerely concerned that she might actually have ESP! “Quite the contrary,” he lied, not sure she believed him as they stepped into his loft suite on the top floor. “I’m too busy enjoying these, ‘negotiations, as you put it, to think of anything else.”

“You better be,” she purred, admiring the modern loft with all its sleek, luxurious lines and stark white furnishings. “Because I don’t ‘negotiate’ with just anyone, you know?”

He chuckled, sliding a bottle of priceless champagne from the small stainless steel refrigerator beneath the wet bar. “I’m flattered,” he said, taking great care in opening the bottle so that the cork sailed through the spacious living room. Carly watched it sail in a swift arc until it landed just inside the sliding glass door leading to the balcony lap pool. It glittered with a soft internal light and looked radiant as she slid open the door and stepped onto the balcony.

Rahm paused, breathless at the sight of Carly’s sleek, red hair under the pale moonlight, her even paler skin aglow as he approached, two crystal glasses fizzing with bubbly.

“Here,” he said, just shy of a stammer as he handed her one.

She turned, pinning him with radiant green eyes as she ignored the glass. “I think I’ve had enough to drink,” she purred, reaching for his T-shirt to drag him closer. He barely had enough time to set the glasses down on a nearby bistro table before they stood, face to face, her lips full and moist as she slid next to his ear. “But I suddenly find myself ravenous.”

He chuckled, hands reaching out to draw her near. “Luckily Club 9 offers 24-hour room service,” he chuckled breezily as his heart pounded and blood filled his ears.

She pressed her body against his, warm and soft and hard all at the same time. “Maybe for breakfast,” she breathed, lips tracing the line of his jaw as his own lips gently parted in anticipation. “Right now I’m hungry for a little more… negotiation.”

He nodded, their lips finally meeting as a jolt of sudden electricity made him spasm with joy. He had never waited so long to kiss a woman, nor been rewarded so handsomely as passion filled his every cell. He felt, in a word, breathless as their bodies danced alongside each other as she opened her mouth hungrily to invite him deeper inside.

He, too, was ravenous, suddenly hungry to devour this pale, redheaded goddess. Normally he enjoyed sex as he did a fine meal or glass of red wine, something to be quickly savored and then just as quickly forgotten. But his body responded anew to this rapturous woman’s invitation, hands quickly tugging at her jacket until it felt, with a whisper, to the marble pool deck.

Her silken blouse beneath, sleeveless and inviting, begged to be unbuttoned even as she tugged at the hem of his expensively casual T-shirt. He paused in his own teenage fumblings to allow her to drag it off, drinking in the pools of her eyes as she savored his smooth, Persian skin and the torso he worked so hard to attain in his daily hours in the gym. Her pale hands dragged across his broad shoulders and powerful chest, gentle fingertips driving him mad with anticipation as he stiffened in his black boxer briefs. Hungrily she bent forward, following the trail of her fingertips with soft, feathery kisses that overwhelmed him with erotic longings. Suddenly, as he stood quivering beneath her attention, trembling with the intensity of his own desire, he realized this was no casual encounter and that he might just have to stay in South Beach a tad longer to enjoy the power of his negotiation fully.

Thirteen

Carly savored the taste of Rahm’s bare skin, as excited by his glistening, sculpted torso as she was by her own inexplicable desire. After all, she’d merely gone out for a “nightcap” to reveal her restlessness (or so she told herself) and, suddenly, here she was ripping off a veritable stranger’s shirt in the middle of the night!

And yet she found herself unable to control herself, her skin alive and electric, her breath hot and heavy, her very pulse pounding as she savored the salty, savory taste of a strange man’s flesh. He responded in kind, tenderly enduring her soft, peppering kisses until he, too, pawed at her blouse and tore it from above her head, wisps of red hair falling atop her bare shoulders as she stood, exposed, in her maroon work bra.

---