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  His cock stirred. To have Chalcedony come to him willingly would be a gift beyond price. He was not foolish enough to believe that earning her favor would be as simple as Samantha claimed. Still, he would not hesitate to take advantage of whatever opportunities arose. “I am indeed game.”

  Samantha clapped her hands like a gleeful child. “Goodie. So here’s how it’s gonna work. Ooh, just one more thing. I hope you’re not the shy type? Because this is going to work a whole heap better if you lose the sheet.”

  He decided it prudent not to answer until he’d listened to her plan.

  ~~~

  A bellow sounded from within the bedroom. Chalcey’s head jerked up and her startled gaze clashed with that of the younger workman. “What the—?” She dumped the boxful of gear she’d been carrying for him on the floor and headed for the bedroom.

  The sliding door flew open before she could reach it. She skidded to a halt, arms wheeling, floored by the sight of Wulf, stark naked, and moving like he was being chased by ravenous hell-hounds.

  He stopped dead when he spotted her. Just as well. If he’d smacked into her, he’d have sent her flying. “Wulf, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

  “That female. She— When I awoke, she was taking liberties with me!” His tone quivered with what she guessed to be outrage. So did his impressive male parts.

  She tore her gaze from those, er, parts. But oh, it was hard! Uh, to not look, that is. Yikes. She gave herself a mental slap upside the head and instructed her brain to engage. “Saaaam!” she called. “Get your butt out here, right now.”

  The perpetrator of the crime sidled through the door, cute-as-a-button in a clean pair of borrowed shorts and Chalcey’s favorite “FCUK It” t-shirt. “I’m sorry, Chalce. He was laid out like some delicious feast and I couldn’t help myself. I—”

  “Enough!” Chalcey flung up a hand to ward off what was sure to be a graphic description of exactly what Sam had gotten up to. She didn’t want to know. Worse, she was uncomfortably aware that they were providing free entertainment for the workmen, who were hanging on to Sam’s every word. “Apologize to him right now.”

  “How was I supposed to know he—?”

  “Say sorry, Sam.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Sam.”

  Sam thrust out her lower lip into a cutesy sex-pot pout, and turned to Wulf. “I’m very sorry for, er, feeling you up.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “But if you ever change your mind, I—”

  “Samantha Greenwood!” Chalcey winced as her screech echoed through the studio. Jeez. She sounded like Sam’s mother. A shudder rippled down her torso. Scary thought.

  Sam heaved a sigh. “I promise I’ll behave,” she said. And, catching Chalcey’s obvious disbelief, stuck out her tongue before flouncing off into the kitchenette. “Coffee anyone?” she yelled over her shoulder, just as if nothing untoward had happened.

  Chalcey abruptly realized she’d gotten a little too close to her naked house-guest for comfort, and skittered back a couple of steps. She heard a muffled imprecation and spotted the younger of the two workmen standing stock-still, his jaw agape in a classic pole-axed expression.

  The old guy sniggered. “What’s up, boyo? Ain’t never seen a schlong that big afore? Puts yours to shame, I’ll bet. Never mind lad.” He cuffed the young guy on the shoulder. “You’re just a greenhorn, so maybe you’ve still got some growing to do. Time to get to work. Lady’s not paying us to stand ’round and gawk.”

  The lady in question shot a quick glance at Wulf to see how he was taking it.

  He was taking it well, standing there in all his glory, apparently quite gratified by all the attention being paid to his “schlong”.

  Men.

  “Uh, so here’s the floor,” she said to the workmen. She had a habit of stating the obvious when she was horribly embarrassed. Like now. “If you feeling like getting started, now’s good.” She grabbed Wulf’s arm and dragged him back into the bedroom, shutting out the knowing smirks by the simple expedient of sliding the door shut behind her.

  “Where are your clothes?” she said. “Find them and put them on, for God’s sake!”

  “The other woman, the short one with hair the color of flames, tells me she is your friend.”

  “Sam? Yes, she’s my best friend. Why?”

  “You may wish to reiterate to her that I am not interested in her that way,” he said, frowning fiercely.

  “Jeez. She had a rough night, and—” Shut up, Chalcey. Sam sure as heck won’t appreciate you going there. “Look, I apologize again for Sam’s behavior, okay? But most guys I know would just lie back and let her have her wicked way with them.”

  To her private satisfaction, Wulf did not appear at all impressed by this claim. “If I wanted to bed her, I would take her and be done with it. But she holds no sway over me.”

  She didn’t know quite what to make of that statement, distracted as she was by his impressive nakedness. So very, very, distracted that she clapped a hand over her eyes. “Will you just find your clothes and put them on? Pleeease?”

  He gently pulled her hand away from her eyes. “What is it about my body that disturbs you so, Chalcedony? Does something about me displease you?”

  “Er…. No. Not at all. It’s a very nice body.” She cleared her throat, forced herself to stare him straight in the eyes, and endeavored to speak without squeaking. “Very nice. Now would you put some clothes on?”

  He released her hand to stretch the cricks out of his shoulders and back. And render her speechless with an astounding display of rippling muscles and simply delectable pectorals. Ye God, he was gorgeous. Mesmerizing She’d really like to—

  She bit her lip. And when that didn’t work, pinched her arm really hard. That didn’t work, either. Her brain was still mush. “Huh? Sorry, did you say something?”

  “You are filthy, Chalcedony.”

  Rats. Busted. Was what she’d been thinking that obvious?

  “Do you have a particular liking for this state of dishevelment?” He swiped a smudge from her cheek with the pad of his thumb and held it up for inspection.

  Oh. He meant filthy physical state. She shook herself and mentally kicked her brain up a gear. “No, of course I don’t like being covered in dust and crap. I was going to take a shower but I got a bit, um, distracted.”

  His eyes lit up. “A shower? Is it raining outside? That would be a miraculous sight to behold. In my homeland, it has rained but once in my lifetime.”

  “Desert-dweller, huh? Sorry to disappoint you but I was talking about taking a shower, like, in the bathroom.”

  A wistful expression crossed his face, softening his features. “I would like very much to bathe. And to eat. I have not broken my fast since arriving in this place.”

  “And when was that exactly?”

  “Yester-eve, when first I encountered you.” He gazed off into the distance. “But truly, I cannot recall my last meal.”

  OMG. The really buff body-builder-type she’d once dated “had” to eat every couple of hours. Little wonder poor Wulf had passed out. Poor guy had to be starving. “And where were you, uh, before?”

  “I existed in a place of endless darkness where no time passes.”

  “Oh. Oookay.” Nothing like obvious insanity to poor cold water on the heat of lust. And as much as she wanted a shower, she decided to hold off until she had the studio to herself again. Face and hands would have to suffice. “Okay, Wulf, here’s the deal. You’re going to take a shower while I fix you something to eat. Then, after you’ve eaten, you’re going to leave.”

  He slanted her an enigmatic “you think?” type of look, and picked up his clothes.

  Mmm. Nice ass. But…. She shook her head at her own gullibility, then snagged a towel from her hamper and tossed it at him. “Cover yourself with that so you don’t tempt Sam any further.” She turned away rather than watch him wrap the towel about his hips and embarrass herself further with uncontrolled droolin
g. “C’mon. I’ll show you how the showers work. I’d hate you to burn your, ah, self.”

  She ushered him into the men’s bathroom and left him contemplating the shower mixer in one of the cubicles while she ducked her head through the doorway to answer a yelled query from Sam. “There’s more sugar in the top cupboard, okay? And don’t eat all the leftover mac ’n’ cheese. I’m saving that for dinner.”

  She turned back to discover Wulf already wallowing under a jet of water. Without having pulled the shower curtain closed.

  Whoa. Nice. Nice everything, really.

  “Do you have something to wash with?” he asked.

  “Do I have something—? Oh. Yes. Of course. Sorry. Won’t be a tick.” She dragged her gaze away from the incredibly hot naked man in her shower, and whizzed back to her bedroom to retrieve soap, shampoo and conditioner.

  It took more than a couple of deep, bracing breaths before she felt up to entering the men’s bathroom again. And all that carefully won surface composure was wasted because, gosh darnit! he still hadn’t bothered to shut the curtain. Apparently her brain turned to jelly and leaked out her ears whenever she got too near him. It took far too much effort not to stare. Sheesh. Sam was right. She so needed to get laid. Sighing like a teenage girl over a crush, she gave in, and stared.

  Realizing that he was watching her watch him, and his lips were quirked in an altogether smug masculine grin, was enough to snap her out of it. She averted her eyes, and held out the soap and bottles. And while she was congratulating herself for her strength of character at not sneaking another peek, he grabbed her wrist… and hauled her into the shower cubicle with him.

  “Gaaaaaahhh! The water’s fricking freezing!” She fumbled with shower mixer, adjusting the water to a more desirable temperature. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  “You are covered in dust from head to toe, Chalcedony. When you have wonders such as this at your fingertips—” he cast a hand about the shower cubicle “—why would you not desire to take advantage of them?”

  “Well, thanks for the offer but I prefer to shower in private. So I’ll be getting out now.”

  “I think not.” He crowded her into a corner of the cubicle. “At least, not until you are clean.”

  “I’m fully capable of washing myself, thank you very much.”

  “Of that I am certain. However, is it not more fun to have assistance?” He brandished the soap in an insinuating sort of a way.

  “Oh, yes. I mean, no!” She wasn’t doing this. No way. “Let me out or I’ll scream. A-and those guys will come and rescue me. I mean it, Wulf. Let me out right—”

  His mouth swooped down and captured hers, an oh-so effective way to smother her protests. All thought of escape fled as his mouth worked its magic and his tongue thrust deep into her mouth, licking and exploring. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and rolling the pebbled nipples through the soaking wet, stretch-cotton fabric of her top.

  She squirmed and his mouth left hers to lick and nibble her neck—one of her major erogenous zones, dammit.

  One big hand left her breast to pin her hips against the tiles of the shower cubicle. His lips traveled lower, fastening around her breast, sucking, biting gently, teasing with his teeth.

  He pushed up her top and her breasts sprang free. He cupped them.

  She sucked in a deep shocked breath. “Wulf… I’m not… I don’t… I don’t do this sort of —” He drew her left nipple into his mouth, suckling strongly, sending tiny shockwaves of pleasure directly to her groin. “Ahhhh!”

  Her IQ was reduced to absolute zero as he squeezed and massaged her other breast with finger that were so skilled and clever, they should have been illegal. He pulled the top over her head, slowly, laving each inch of newly bared skin with his tongue. She shuddered, her skin becoming almost unbearably sensitized beneath his touch.

  He knelt, lipping his way down her stomach, tongue flicking her belly button, lapping water from her skin. She felt his hands on her waist, fingers insinuating themselves beneath the waistband of her pajama pants, dragging the sopping wet material down over her hips.

  She reached down to grab his hands, a last ditch attempt to prevent what she knew was going to happen next. “Wulf, I—”

  His gaze sought hers, his blue eyes dark with desire and raw need. “Chalcedony.”

  The tenderness with which he uttered her name was her undoing.

  “I desire you above all others,” he said, and at that moment she believed him with every fiber of her being. “Do you want me to stop, Chalcedony?”

  “No.”

  “I want there to be no misunderstanding about what I intend to do to you. Say you want me to continue. Say yes, Chalcedony.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  He tugged and her pants pooled at her ankles. He spread her with gentle fingers and licked her once, just once, before resting his forehead against her stomach. Waiting. And, oh God, she couldn’t help it. She thrust her pelvis forward, giving in to her body’s demands, surrendering. And there could be no lies because her body couldn’t lie. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. And they both knew it.

  He licked her again, sucked her until she wanted to scream—would have screamed except that what he was doing to her with his mouth and his tongue and his fingers had stolen her breath and all she could summon was a hoarse gasp.

  He tantalized and teased until heat spiraled through her belly and her vision washed with a golden haze and the muscles in her legs gave way. But she didn’t fall. He wouldn’t let her fall. He surged upward, and lifted her so that she was cradled in his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist. Eye to eye with him. No secrets. No pretense.

  Stainless steel pressed against her spine, the chill shock of it threatening to yank her back into reality and gift her with reason. But the heat of him, his craving for her—and hers for him—was too powerful. The stream of water pounded his back. He rolled his shoulders, luxuriating in the heat, and the play of muscles in his upper body sent tingles of anticipation down her body. She was at his mercy. Utterly. Right now, he could demand anything of her and she would give it to him. And right here, right now, with this man, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  He rubbed himself against her until all she knew was the sensation of his skin against hers and his hard cock pressing against her stomach. And all she could think about was how he would feel when he was inside her.

  He shifted his grip, reaching down to stroke her clit with his thumb while he worked a finger deep inside her. Then two. In and out, stroking her, teasing, until her inner muscles clenched against his fingers. From deep in his throat came a rumble of pure masculine satisfaction. And then he expelled his breath in a harsh, needy gasp which made her revel in her femininity. She was doing that to him. Her body. Her.

  He cupped his hands around her butt and positioned her over the head of his cock, nudging himself against her core until she ground her hips down, craving all of him. Answering her unspoken demand, he lowered her onto his thick hard shaft, stretching her, impaling her so achingly slowly that she wanted to scream with the need to have all of him inside her. Every incredible inch. She writhed and moaned with the need.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “Wulf! For God’s sake. Please. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop!”

  He stared deep into her eyes, into her soul. And then he drove himself all the way in and began to fuck her in long thrusting strokes that had her whimpering with pleasure.

  Vaguely, through the fog of sexual sensation, she heard someone enter the bathroom. And she didn’t care. “Go ‘way. Be with you… later.”

  “Much later.” Wulf growled, driving into her with such hard, forceful strokes that she buried her face in his shoulder and bit her lips so that she didn’t scream aloud.

  “You all right, Chalcey?” Sam’s voice, uncertain.

  And she didn’t give a damn. “Yes. Yes!”

  Sam left, closing the door
behind her, shutting Chalcey away from the real world.

  There was only Wulf. His body and hers. His powerful cock pumping deep inside her. Her inner muscles milking him. His hands stroking her body.

  The pressure inside her rose, intensified, continued building until—

  She tensed, gasped for air. Her orgasm rippled through her, stripping away the final shreds of self-awareness. She shrieked his name and didn’t care who heard her. “Wulfenite!”

  He drove into her and stilled, pulsing hot, quivering. And then he buried his face in her neck and whispered her name, “Chalcedony.”

  The catch in his voice was so heartbreakingly poignant that her soul sang. She couldn’t even bring herself to care that she’d just had unprotected sex—the most incredible sex of her life—with a stranger she didn’t know from a bar of soap.

  ~~~

  Chapter Six

  Chalcey registered the swoosh of the bathroom door as Wulf slid it shut behind him. And then she was on her own, with all the privacy she could possibly desire. Whoopee.

  She slumped to the floor of the cubicle and buried her face in her hands, unwilling to face reality let alone crawl out of the shower. The hot water pounded over her. Shame the drumming of high-pressure water on stainless steel couldn’t drown out her thoughts.

  She was still taking the pill, thank God. But what she had just done was so completely out of character that it was darn near incomprehensible. Visions of brain tumors danced in her head. One of Sam’s step-fathers—the second, or maybe the third—had been diagnosed with one, giving his wife a brilliant excuse for any personality trait of his that she’d particularly disliked. She’d been in heaven. Until he finished treatments, recovered, and his personality didn’t change one bit. Mrs. Greenwood was a real piece of work.

  Maybe she—