Merry & Seduced Page 10

  “A market? Where?” He seen more of the area in the last two weeks than he’d seen in his entire life. After the beach visit, they’d gone to the Christmas parade. They’d visited Rainbow’s End, the fun park, and he’d even gone grocery shopping where Amme’s friends had scurried up and down the aisles, picking up and looking at everything. One night they’d decorated their trees, and now it seemed he’d be participating in carol singing and shopping. He waited for the shudder of horror to sweep through him like a black fog of doom.

  It didn’t arrive. Not a breath of foghorn terror.

  “We should have another barbecue tonight and maybe some dancing,” he suggested. “I have a volleyball net and a croquet set somewhere. We can set those up.”

  “Plan,” Camryn said.

  “You said dancing because you want to cuddle with Amme,” Gweneth said. “And you want to kiss her under that mistletoe stuff.”

  “Busted,” Marcus said. “But I’m not going near the mistletoe if Nanu is around.”

  A guffaw burst from Camryn. “I wish I’d had a camera. The look on your face. And Nanu’s face…” Her cheeks turned red as laughter overtook her.

  “Daddy.” Autumn tugged on his shirt hem. “Can we visit the ’pacas?”

  “We can do that,” he said, gazing down at his daughter with a smile of wonder. “As soon as we’ve eaten cookies.”

  “I haven’t enjoyed the Christmas season so much for ages,” Marcus said.

  Amme’s hands paused on the hem of her T-shirt. She had the translator from Mogens, which she needed to attach behind his ear. A simple enough process.

  “I’m glad,” she said. “You’re making it special for Autumn too, at a time when she needs more attention than usual. You’re lucky you can work from home.”

  “I lucked out when I found you,” he said. “I wouldn’t have known what to do if it wasn’t for you and your friends. It’s not just the babysitting. It’s the simple things like decorating the tree and singing carols. Baking food and teaching her to cook. Those are life skills and things she’ll remember with pleasure in the years to come. You’re giving her traditions.”

  But she wouldn’t be here to share in Autumn’s accomplishments. A bittersweet moment, and a reaction she shouldn’t experience, given her programming. She swiftly diverted her brain back to the present.

  “Your daughter is a beautiful child. I can see when she’s sad about her mother, and I try to keep her busy. We’re going to fit in a movie day with a lunch meal at a restaurant.”

  “During school holidays?”

  “Camryn said that’s half the fun. I think she mentioned a Christmas movie. And Kaya heard about a new chocolate shop. She wants to visit. Camryn said we’d need to go too because Kaya requires supervision.”

  “True, the woman should be the size of a bus with all the chocolate she stuffs into her mouth. I’m in. Give me details and I’ll fit it into my schedule.” Marcus held out a hand, his gaze glowing with sensual promise. “Come to bed.”

  “I’ll just peek in on Autumn.” Amme hurried off and found Autumn sound asleep. She was a good kid, although she’d had to unleash her anti-monster spray a couple of times when the child woke with bad dreams.

  She found Marcus in bed, the sheet draped across his waist while he checked email on his tablet. He muttered a curse and jabbed at an email to make it disappear.

  “Problem?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle. She asleep?”

  “Yes.”

  He set his tablet aside. “Come here.”

  Amme paused to whisk off her clothes, and she basked under his intense gaze as she stripped.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  “I like looking at you too.”

  “Enough with the looking,” he said. “I want action.”

  Amme slid into his arms and sought his lips. Their kisses were no longer hesitant since they’d become comfortable together. And each time the sex felt better and more satisfying.

  She’d placed the translator on the tip of her finger and now, she clasped Marcus close and strummed a finger over the smooth patch of skin behind his ear. She tapped the translator into place and muttered a few words in the Universal language they spoke.

  “I want you too,” Marcus replied.

  Amme smiled against his lips, sinking into his voracious kiss. Their tongues stroked, dipped and delved while their hands wandered over shoulders and chests. At least if Nanu slipped now, Marcus wouldn’t realize.

  Marcus rolled over, taking her with him. She ended up on top of him and stared down at him in surprise.

  “I want to see your breasts and watch you when you come.”

  “So I shouldn’t turn off the light?” Amme teased.

  “No,” he barked. “Loosen your hair. It’s so pretty flowing around your shoulders. Smells good too.”

  “Bossy.”

  “Hurry or I’ll spank you.”

  Amme stilled, her heart-pump beating on the fast, choppy side. “Ry threatens to do that to Camryn.”

  “You think I wouldn’t follow through?”

  Amme’s pulse quickened as she attempted to read him. A sultrier, dangerous mood slithered into the room along with his reply. “I… You always do what you promise.”

  “Exactly, and don’t forget it.” He ran a finger down her nose and back and forth across her lips. “I’d enjoy seeing your backside turn pink after I applied my hand.”

  “Smacking hurts.”

  “It might at first, but if the smacking is done right, the pain transforms to sensual heat, which makes for very good sex.”

  “You say that as if you have experience.” The translator made it easier for her to express herself.

  “I’ve had sex with other women. I’ve never said I was a monk. You’ve been with other men. You told me spanking makes sex better.”

  “Yes, I have.” Which meant she had no right to the squirmy, uncomfortable emotions of jealousy. She’d have to ask Camryn, but she was sure this was the sensation banding her chest and forcing her heart-pump to overcompensate.

  “I don’t like knowing that,” Marcus said, blunt and uncompromising. “It makes me a bastard, but I hate the idea of another man touching you.”

  The conversation needed turning. “I’m here with you now. We should make the most of it. Let’s shove our pasts out of the bed and concentrate on now, on us.” She trailed her fingers over his pectoral muscles and pinched one of his nipples. To her fascination, the disc pebbled hard, in a similar way to hers. She pinched the other one to make sure before moving her attentions down his body.

  His stomach muscles bunched beneath her fingertips.

  “Are you ticklish?”

  “No.” His hand settled on her hip. “Your skin is extra soft. So sexy. I love touching you.”

  “You’re not soft.” Her hand curled around his cock and lightly squeezed. She dipped her head and licked across the fat crown with brief forays underneath. Back and forth and underneath until the tip started to leak with his arousal.

  “God, that feels good. No, don’t stop. Keep going.”

  Amme had no idea who this god was but she continued to explore and tease, giving him a gentle suction of her mouth. His hips lifted, the action forcing him deeper. He groaned, the sound stirring her to drag more of the cries from deep in his throat. She palmed the heavy weight of his testicles and sucked his cock a little harder.

  “Amme. I’m gonna come. Take me inside you. Ride me.”

  Amme repositioned her body and guided him to her. She sank down, taking it slow, teasing both of them with the unhurried penetration.

  “Oh, that does feel good. You’re deeper than usual.” She swayed back and forward until she found the best angle. She rose and fell, her gaze on Marcus and the enjoyment etched into his hard features. When she didn’t get enough friction, she used her finger and stroked her pleasure center.

  “That looks so damn hot,” Marcus said in a hoarse voice.

  Her inner muscles clenched around his shaft, and he groaned, his brown eyes glittering with mesmerizing golden highlights, with excitement and enthusiasm. His hips strained upward, surging deep into her pussy. Strained breathing and soft sighs resounded inside the bedroom, the scent of sex and Marcus’s citrus aftershave filling her senses.

  A coil of energy surged to her lower body, the ball of heat growing larger and larger with each up and down stroke. The pleasure swelled until she didn’t think her body could contain the blissful sensations or continue the urgent tempo.

  Marcus reached up and pinched her nipple. The spike of pain surprised her and shoved her into an emotional storm. Her orgasm ripped through her, hard and intense, her pussy pulsing around his cock.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  Amme realized she’d stopped to grab her own pleasure and a spurt of concern dulled some of her enjoyment. “Sorry, I stopped moving.”

  Marcus rolled until she lay under him. “Not a problem.”

  His kiss stopped her reply, her explanation. His was hot and hungry and when he parted their lips not a single thought of regret remained. His potent power claimed her, leaving a heavy fog of desire shimmering in the air between them.

  He set up a fast rhythm until all she could do was hold on and enjoy the ride. He drove into her again and another mini explosion rocked her system.

  Marcus groaned. “Amme.” And then he was coming, her receptors recognizing the convulsive heave of his muscles and the spurt of semen from his cock. For an instant she felt his full body weight and luxuriated in the sensation, which too quickly ended. He levered off her and pulled free.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “We didn’t use a condom.”

  Amme stilled at the note in his voice. She met his gaze without flinching,
simply staring at him.

  “Fuck,” he said again and stomped away. He disappeared into the en suite, leaving Amme hurt and confused. Was the idea so abhorrent?

  He returned mins later.

  “Do you want me to go?”

  He ignored the question. “How likely are you to get pregnant?”

  Amme fought hard to remain impassive but her receptors sent signals before her brain override them. Her mouth shaped into a twist, into the grimace they called a scowl here on Earth. She’d thought he’d cared a little but the note in his voice, the horrified attitude said otherwise.

  “Amme?” The bark of her name was an order.

  “I won’t get pregnant.” The weird ache commenced behind her eyes and she blinked slowly, then faster. Neither speed helped.

  “Are you on birth control?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know.”

  Amme’s heart-pump stuttered, taking an extra long pause before the next push of mechanics. She climbed off the bed, the atmosphere in the room prickling across her skin in an icy chill. She scooped up her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, the barrier of clothing steadying her again.

  “Amme.”

  “Don’t worry, Marcus. I am unable to have children.” She bent to collect the rest of her clothes and left his bedroom without looking back.

  Fuck. Marcus dragged a hand through his hair and dropped onto his bed. That had gone well. While he’d panicked, she’d become increasingly colder, her whiskey eyes filling with an expression that skirted—no—it was bloody contempt.

  He bent at the waist and covered his face with his hands. He’d screwed up. Amme hadn’t deserved his icy behavior. Time for an apology.

  Marcus stood and padded from the room. Damn, he needed clothes. He retraced his steps and pulled on a pair of jeans. Dressed enough.

  He tapped softly on Amme’s door and when she didn’t answer, he opened it and peered inside the room. The bed was empty, the room vacant.

  Panic struck him then. She couldn’t leave. He…he… He raced for the stairs, then came to an abrupt halt. She wouldn’t leave Autumn. He knew this bone deep.

  On leaving his room, she would’ve gone to Autumn to check she was all right. He paused at the door and heard low voices. His daughter was awake at…he frowned at his watch…2:00 a.m.

  “The monster was making noises. I h-heard it run under the bed.” Autumn made a hiccupping sound. “You need to l-look.”

  “All right, sweetie,” Amme said in a reassuring voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the anti-monster spray. The biggest, baddest monster can’t withstand my spray gun.”

  “You need to do your dance.”

  “I’ll do that too,” Amme said. “Let me look first. You might have already scared the beast away.”

  Marcus listened to the two discuss monsters and thought back to his own childhood. His nanny had comforted him after bad dreams. Not his mother or father. They’d never spent much time at home. Heck, they were mostly out of the country these days. Jocelyn and Mark Polo shouldn’t have had children, hadn’t wanted them.

  With their parents as examples, it was no wonder he and Olivia had ended up with commitment issues. Well, in his case at least. His much younger sister acted out with outrageous antics in a cry for attention.

  “I was right,” Amme said. “You have chased the monster away. It’s not hiding under the bed. You’re a monster slayer!”

  “It’s gone?”

  “Yes. Excellent job. I’ll spray now, so it won’t come back.”

  Marcus heard the swish-swish of a spray bottle. Then Amme stood and jumped around singing nonsensical words. Something clenched in the region of his heart. Amme would make a brilliant mother. Autumn adored her, and Amme’s presence had helped his daughter at a time when her mother’s death could have paralyzed her. For a person who so obviously adored children, not being able to have her own must be a constant ache in her gut.

  “Damn,” he mumbled.

  Amme’s head shot up and their gazes met. She was the first to break their connection.

  “Now that the monster is gone you should go back to sleep because we have an exciting day tomorrow. I’ll tuck you in.”

  “I can’t find Teddy.”

  “Here he is. He’d fallen out of bed.” Amme tucked the stuffed animal next to Autumn and kissed his daughter on the forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

  Amme brushed past him, her destination the bedroom he’d allocated her when she’d first arrived—the one she’d seldom used.

  “Amme.” His arm shot out to halt her retreat. “Please, can we talk?”

  “I thought we’d said everything that needed saying.”

  “I’m sorry for the way I behaved. You didn’t deserve my attitude.”

  “Or the way you implied I’d try to trap you. I’m leaving with my friends, remember?”

  Damn, it wasn’t as if he could forget her looming departure. He gritted his teeth, strove for the right words. Trust was—the more he thought about her leaving, the more he loathed the idea. He liked the way he was with her. She’d helped him find his feet with Autumn. And most of all, she didn’t care about his money. He’d scanned the items she’d purchased for Autumn, and she hadn’t gone to exclusive boutiques. Most of his past women would have hotfooted it to the designer stores and sneaked in several outfits for their own pleasure. Camryn had suggested The Warehouse, a large chain store with reasonable prices, and that was where Amme and her friends had gone. And from the sounds of it, they’d had a blast during their shopping excursion.

  “I know,” he said in a low voice. “I apologize for letting my past color my reaction. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “I would never try to trap a man into marriage,” Amme said with dignity. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  And before he could offer a protest, Amme opened the door to her allocated bedroom and disappeared inside. The loud click of the door closing was her rejection.

  “That went well.” Marcus dragged a hand through his hair. He wouldn’t sleep. Not now. Maybe he’d check his email and do a little work. That way he’d have plenty of time to think about a grovel speech and his next apology.

  Down in the kitchen, he shifted his unopened mail to get to his whiskey bottle and poured himself a shot. Immediately, he thought of Amme and her beautiful eyes. If he weren’t such an idiot, he’d be in bed with her instead of standing in the kitchen alone.

  A heavy sigh rumbled up his throat. He sipped his drink, scooped up his pile of mail then wandered along to his office and settled in to do some work.

  He opened a couple of farm bills. Feed for the alpacas and a vet bill. A small padded parcel snagged his attention. He yanked off the tape and slid out the contents—a pair of silky underwear. Aw, hell. Sophie Robinson strikes again. He’d thought his warnings and his abrupt statement of disinterest would finally get through to the determined female. Apparently not. He dropped the panties in his bin along with the rest of the parcel’s contents.

  He grunted, the sound full of displeasure. At least she’d sent a parcel rather than trying to sneak into his house and bed. Been there. Done that, and he didn’t care for a repeat.

  Hell, he was an idiot.

  Amme was a hundred miles from Sophie and the women who’d tried to insert themselves into his life because of his money. And Amme was nothing like his child-neglecting parents.

  A click came from the direction of the kitchen.

  Amme.

  Relief surged inside him and he tossed aside the rest of his mail. He hurried into the kitchen, his bare feet soundless on the tile floor. Someone—not Amme—was busy raiding his fridge.

  “Stop right there,” he snarled.

  The person let out a very feminine squeak and dropped a bottle of milk. Marcus reached for the light and blinked at the sudden brightness.

  The woman pivoted, her rainbow-colored hair unfamiliar. Her defiant blue eyes, outlined in heavy black eyeliner and the dark lashes, long and thick and partly man-made had him relaxing.

  “Olivia,” he said in exasperation. “What are you doing here?”

  A flash of movement came from the other side of the kitchen. Amme dressed in a sexy bronze-colored gown that came to mid-thigh. Her arm lifted and a shocked croak crawled up his throat, boasted by a slice of panic.

  “It’s all right,” he said hastily. Hell, where had she found the club?

  Amme scowled at the woman and the weapon didn’t move.