Susan Mallery - Under Her Skin

“She’s not…” Lexi paused, not sure what to say. Normal? Right?

“She used to be,” the teen said. “At least that’s what I heard. Something happened. It was a long time ago. I’ve been working here a couple of years and she’s always been like she is. But she’s right about the kitten. You’ll see.”

Lexi and the teen had to make two trips to her car to get everything in the trunk. She put the kitten in the carrier and set that next to her in the front seat. Then, feeling really stupid, she pushed the button to disable the passenger seat airbag.

“I’m taking this way too far,” she muttered, but the sleeping kitten didn’t answer. As she drove back to work, she tried to put all the pieces together.

Why would a high-powered guy like Garth own a little store like that? And what had happened to Kathy? What had changed her and how could it possibly have anything to do with Garth or her day spa?

LEXI ARRIVED BACK at Cruz’s house shortly after five. Despite her best intentions, she’d been unable to offer the kitten to anyone, which made her feel incredibly foolish. She didn’t even like cats. Except she seemed to like this one.

She gathered as much as she could carry and made her way into the house, only to come to a stop when she heard Cruz arguing with someone in Spanish.

She followed the sounds of the voices to the entry to his study. He stood behind his desk, a man she didn’t recognize stood in front. They were obviously furious with each other, but she didn’t understand what they were saying.

She went upstairs, taking the kitten with her. After two more trips, she’d brought everything inside and had made a home for the kitten in her temporary office, across the hall from the master suite. Fifteen minutes later, Cruz walked in.

He looked angry and frustrated.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered.

“It’s fine. A business deal gone bad?”

“No.” He frowned at the kitten on her desk. “What’s that?”

“What does it look like?”

“You got a cat?”

“Sort of.”

The kitten strolled over to him and batted at his fingers. Cruz picked it up and rubbed the side of its face. The kitten immediately began to purr.

“I like cats,” he said, surprising her. “What’s its name?”

“It’s a he and his name is C.C.” The name just came to her. When Cruz raised his eyebrows, she grinned. “In honor of your company. Cruz Control.”

“You named the cat after me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good one.” C.C. relaxed in Cruz’s arm, slowly rolling onto his back, then falling sleep with his paws in the air. Cruz took a seat by the desk and continued to rub his tummy.

“That was my father,” he said without looking up.

Lexi hadn’t been expecting that. She tried to remember what the other man had looked like, but she’d only seen his back for a second.

“I take it you two don’t get along?”

“Not for years. He was born in this country, so he’s a citizen. My mother came here illegally. She’s naturalized now, but when I was growing up, she was terrified of being deported. My father used to threaten to call immigration whenever he got mad at her. The rest of the time he just beat her until she promised to love him forever.”

Lexi stiffened. She understood the words, but couldn’t absorb their meaning. Juanita had been a kind and gracious woman. Who would ever have wanted to hurt her?

“My dad was the reason I got involved in a gang as early as I did. I needed the money to buy a gun.” Finally he looked at her. His eyes were dark and unreadable. They reminded her of the coldest part of the night.

“I was twelve. I waited for him outside, got behind him and put the gun in his back. I told him if he ever hit her again, I’d kill him. That he had an hour to pack his stuff and get out.”

She swallowed. “What happened?”

“He left. She and I never talked about it. I like to think she was relieved, that I’d saved her. She never dated much after him so for all I know, she’s still in love with him.” He shrugged. “At least she’s safe. That’s what mattered. When I was growing up, all I could think was how much better life would be without him. I was right.”

“And your dad?”

“He started showing up a few years ago. He knew I had money and he wanted some for himself. It’s easier to pay him off, so I do.”

Out of guilt? Or a connection that could never be broken, no matter how much Cruz wanted it to?

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine. He looked…sad.

He stood and passed C.C. to her. “I have work to do.”

Then he was gone.

THAT NIGHT LEXI paced restlessly in the bedroom. She couldn’t forget Cruz’s story. Knowing it explained so much. She could see the evolution from that scared and angry boy to the man he’d become. No wonder no one got close. No wonder he wanted acceptance. Maybe everyone was broken in one way or another.

She heard footsteps in the hallway, then the bedroom door opened. Cruz stood there, silent. Waiting.

She’d worked through a thousand excuses. Exhaustion, her period, headaches. She’d done her best to protect herself, to stay clear of him because she knew the danger of being in his bed. Of what he could do to her body and how difficult it would be for her to separate herself emotionally from any physical connection.

She knew all the reasons they shouldn’t and not one of them mattered at that moment. Not when she’d seen a side of him she’d never imagined. She could resist a powerful man, but one who was vulnerable? Apparently not.

She crossed to him, raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his.

CRUZ RESPONDED immediately, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that stole her breath and weakened her bones.

His mouth was firm, determined, yet he didn’t bruise as he deepened the kiss. Tongues tangled. He tasted of sex and Scotch and she couldn’t get enough of him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, as much to hang on as to be next to him. His hands roamed her body, touching, arousing, exploring. She wore a lace nightgown and panties, nothing more. But even the delicate silk was too much of a barrier. She wanted skin on skin. She wanted what he had done to her all those years ago-when he’d made love with her on a wild summer night, changing her forever.

That was the reason she’d resisted, the reason she’d needed to protect herself by avoiding him in bed. Because of who she was when she was with him that way. Their first night together had been amazing, but her own reaction had frightened her. Since then, she’d managed to keep control, but could she with Cruz?

He was all hard muscle. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her nipples already hard and aching. As he slid his hands down to her rear, she pushed her hips against him and felt his erection.

Now, she thought frantically. She wanted him now. She wanted him to shove her up against the wall and take her. She wanted her legs spread, his body filling hers. She wanted him to claim her, mark her and leave her shaken.

It had never been like this with anyone else. She’d always preferred gentle lovemaking. The familiar, the comfortable. A polite dance to completion. Andrew had once complained she was too much the ice princess in bed. But not with Cruz.

Without thinking, she clamped her lips around his tongue and sucked. His erection surged. She squirmed to get closer, to get them closer to the next step. She wanted it all and she wanted it now.

He pulled back enough to kiss his way down her jaw. His open-mouthed kisses along her neck made her shiver. Liquid heat poured through her. She was already swollen and close enough to be desperate. She dug her fingers into his shoulders even as she pulled at the fabric of his shirt.

He straightened. Passion darkened his eyes. His breathing was fast and deep, just like hers. Gazes locked, he grabbed the thin straps of her nightgown and tugged them down until her breasts were exposed. Then he bent his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth.

The exquisite pleasure, the feel of his mouth sucking and licking and tugging, made her gasp. She grabbed his head to hold him in place. More, she thought desperately. She needed more.

He used his fingers on her other breast, mimicking the movement, pleasing her. Tension grew as did her need. Hunger made her desperate.

He dropped to his knees, pulling at her nightgown as he went. The fabric ripped. He jerked down her panties, leaving her naked. Then he was urging her legs apart.

She was still standing in the middle of the bedroom. To be taken like this was so unlike her, but moving to the bed was impossible. She spread her legs and tried to brace herself for the erotic onslaught of his mouth. Even knowing what he was going to do didn’t keep her from gasping when he parted her with his fingers, then pressed his tongue against her most sensitive spot.

He licked every part of her before setting up a steady rhythm designed to have her screaming inside of a minute. She pushed against him, wanting all he could give her. Her legs shook and she didn’t care. She caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror, totally naked, legs spread, Cruz between them, and she didn’t care about that, either. There was only the man and what he did to her body.

He seemed to know exactly what she was feeling. He moved faster and harder, quickly pushing her toward her orgasm. She wanted to hold back, to enjoy the moment, to savor it. She felt her body straining.

Her eyes closed. He shoved first one, then two fingers inside of her. At the same time he sucked her sensitive center and she was lost.

She came with a cry she tried to hold in but couldn’t. She shook and shuddered, lost in the perfect sensations. He slowed but didn’t stop until she did.