The Final Seduction(8)

'I don't think so,' he murmured, his eyes flickering over her in a way  which appalled her. 'I never got my kicks that way, kitten.'

'Don't look at me like that, Drew. I don't like it.'

'Liar!' he taunted softly. 'You love it.'                       
       
           



       

'No, I don't!' But to her dismay her body seemed to agree with him.  There was something irresistible about that ruthlessly sexual evaluation  and her thoughts began to react to the hunger in his eyes. She tried to  push them away, but the images which were being created in her mind  were making her head pound and her pulses rocket.

And worse. Her breasts had begun to prickle and swell so that the  acutely sensitive tips stung uncomfortably against the crisp lace of her  bra. She shifted her weight, hoping that he hadn't noticed.

'No?' He raised his eyebrows and the knowing glint in his eyes told her  that he had noticed. 'Oh, come, come, Shelley-let's not play the  hypocritical little prude! This is me you're talking to, remember? I'm  the guy who watched you making out in a total stranger's car. Remember  that?' He shook his head from side to side. 'If only I'd known you were  that desperate to have sex, kitten-then I would have happily obliged  myself.'

She flinched. 'How many times do I have to tell you that I wasn't "making out"? You know I wasn't!'

'Not technically, perhaps,' he told her coldly. 'If you mean that penetration hadn't actually taken place at that point-'

'Stop it!' she howled, clapping her hands over her ears. 'And please  don't be so coarse! I don't have to stand here and listen to-'

'The truth?' he interrupted stonily. 'That's what incenses you so much, Shelley-because it is the truth, isn't it?'

'The truth is far more complex than you make out, Drew Glover! As for  your offer of a bed-well, if you think I'm spending the night anywhere  near you, then you're highly mistaken!'

'I don't remember offering to spend the night anywhere near you. All I asked was whether you'd booked yourself a room.'

'No, I haven't booked,' she said shortly. 'Like I said, I left in a hurry.'

'It's the end of the season,' he reminded her. 'And the only place you  stand a chance of getting a room now is at the Westward. But you'll be  lucky if you do.'

'The Westward?' Shelley thought of the faded grandeur of the Westward.  It cost an arm and a leg and a little more besides to stay there. And  whilst she had saved most of her salary during her time in Italy she  hadn't planned to register at luxurious hotels which would greedily eat  into her capital.

'I expect you'd love to go back there, wouldn't you?' he taunted softly.  'It'll bring all kinds of happy memories flooding back! After all,  isn't that where you had your date with the Italian?' He clapped the  palm of his hand against his forehead in mock-chastisement. 'Oh, no-I  forgot! It was just the one drink, wasn't it? Such a cheap date, aren't  you, Shelley?'

It was the last straw. 'I've had about as much as I can take from you,  Drew Glover!' She lifted her hand and aimed it at his cheek, but he  actually had time to shake his head, before instinctively ducking to  avoid it.

'Temper, temper!' he reprimanded softly. 'Though I do like a woman who  plays rough! Not a side of our relationship which we ever explored  properly, is it, Shelley? More's the pity.'

'Oh!' She unballed her fist to produce pink-painted talons as she  scrabbled her fingers blindly and frantically towards him, but he was  ready for her again.

'Oh, no, pussy-cat!' he murmured, and caught her hand easily, resting  her palm against the rough rub of his cheek, so that the drawn fingers  softened automatically, like a kitten unsheathing its claws. The pulse  in her wrist began to rocket frantically against the curve of his jaw,  and he must have felt it too-for he smiled a predatory kind of smile she  had never seen before.

She felt a shiver tingling its way up her spine.

'Still excited?' he mocked.

'Disappointed!' she parried. 'I'd like to hit you!'

But he shook his head. 'No. I don't think you would. I think you'd like  to be doing something else with me instead. Something which can be  equally physical, and just as violent as lashing out at me. Every pore  of your body is screaming out for it, but it wouldn't exactly be  appropriate, now would it, Shelley? So you've sublimated your desire by  attempting to hit me instead.' His voice deepened. 'But what the hell,  baby? Why not give in to it? What say we go inside and get down on the  floor and just do it?'

Perhaps the most terrible thing of all was that his words-instead of  horrifying and shocking her-were filling her with the most powerful  sense of desire she had ever experienced. Desire so intense that it  incapacitated her, making her honey-moist and aching, gazing at him  open-mouthed with surrender. 'Stop it!' she croaked.                       
       
           



       

'Oh, yes, you're turned on, aren't you, Shelley?' he whispered with soft  triumph. 'Very turned on. Those eyes are so wide and dark now, like a  cat's. And see how your cheeks burn up. And look here.' He let his gaze  drift down to fix with interest on her breasts. 'Tight little buds  thrusting towards her lover's eyes-'

'But you're not my lover, Drew!' she gasped out, her voice a kind of choked denial. 'And you never were!'

'No,' he agreed. 'I'm not. But there's plenty of time to remedy that.'

'Never, never, never!' she chanted. 'So do me a favour and get out!'

'Sure?'

'As sure as-'

'Drew! Drew, are you still in there?'

Disorientated and still caught up in the hypnotic throb of desire, Shelley stared at him. 'Who's that?' she whispered.

'My sister,' he said, with a grim smile. And, letting go of Shelley's  hand, he pulled open the front door and Shelley found herself face to  face with Jennie Glover.

It had been three years since she had last seen Drew's sister, when she  had left Milmouth under such a cloud-and Shelley mentally geared herself  up for her disapproval.

But, outwardly at least, Jennie appeared to be quite composed-there was  none of her brother's lip-curling condemnation. In fact, Drew's sister  had changed quite radically and Shelley kept her face completely  straight, hoping that her surprise at the other woman's appearance  didn't show.

Jennie had shared many of Drew's physical characteristics-they had both  been tall with athletic builds, and the shiny hair and clear skin which  came from natural good health. But Jennie had changed.

She seemed smaller than Shelley remembered-though maybe that was because  her shoulders were hunched up, like a person who constantly doubted  herself. Her thick dark hair was unkempt and badly in need of styling,  and her skin was sallow and dull. But it was her figure which startled  Shelley most. She hadn't just gained weight-she had gained it in the  most unlikely of places. She had a real pot for a belly and her slumped  posture only emphasised it. She wore an old pair of jeans and a dirty  sweater and looked light years away from the smiley-eyed girl of  yesteryear.

Shelley felt a great wave of nostalgia for how things used to be. They  had once been friends and seeing her now brought back how much she had  missed that closeness. 'Hello, Jennie,' she said quietly. 'It's good to  see you again.'

'Hello, Shelley.' Jennie's face creased into a smile which looked  genuine. 'You probably thought that I was an interfering busy-body  ringing up Drew and sending him round here-'

'It's okay. I realise that you were just being a good neighbour.'  Shelley smiled back. 'It was dumb of me not to have planned my return a  little better.' But Marco's bombshell had caught her unawares.

'I was worried about you being without any heating at this time of  year,' Jennie explained. 'It's been unbelievably cold here, and I  thought that after Italy-' She bit her lip as if she'd put her foot in  it. 'Er-it's just that Drew has had central heating installed in our  house, but your mother-God rest her soul-never got round to it.'

Several of Jennie's words lodged themselves stubbornly in Shelley's  mind, where they refused to shift. She frowned with confusion. 'Drew has  had central heating installed?' she repeated, like a child learning  tables. She looked up at him, her face freezing in horror as she  imagined having him that close.

'Don't tell me you're still living at home, Drew!' she exclaimed in  surprise. Only as soon as the words were out of her mouth did she become  aware of how preposterous they sounded. As if this vibrant, virile man  would still be living at his parents' old house.

Yet Jennie was …

Drew gave a shout of laughter only slightly less explosive than his sister's. 'Er, no. I'm not, as it happens.'

'Drew?' Jennie snorted, and for the first time her face came to life as  it lit up with amusement. 'Living at home?' She turned to her brother.  'Can you imagine?'

'Oh, I can imagine it as clearly as Shelley obviously can,' he drawled,  his eyes glinting provocatively in Shelley's direction. 'It's amazing  the places that your imagination can take you, if you want it to. And we  can all see where Shelley's imagination is taking her! Wish-fulfilment,  I believe it's called. Yeah, I've still got my old room at home,  kitten-and this time there'll be nothing to stop you from visiting me  there!'