When An Alpha Purrs(8)

But do you know what did act as a bucket of cold water?

Getting caught.





Chapter Seven


Roar. He stifled the sound but only barely. Arik could have easily and  happily killed the waiter who cleared his throat and interrupted his  kiss with Kira.

"Are you ready to order?"

Ready to order a can of whoop ass. Breaking the lip lock, Arik glared at  the young man who stood at their tableside, pad of paper in hand.

Beside him, Kira panted softly, looking much too lovely with her flushed  cheeks, bright eyes, and swollen lips. She recovered more quickly than  he liked.

"I'd like a martini please. A big one. I'll start with a Caesar salad,  extra garlic. Loaded baked potato, and twelve ounce porterhouse, rare."  As she ordered, studiously ignoring him, Arik leaned back against the  leatherette seat. He draped an arm over her shoulder, a possessive  gesture that went against his speech to Kira earlier.

Yes, he might have stated he didn't want anything permanent. He didn't  need the headache a steady relationship would bring-like expectations of  him showing up on time or buying gifts. Sometimes a man just wanted  something easy and uncomplicated. Sometimes he just wanted sex. In this  case, he really wanted Kira as a lover. Problem was, a part of him, a  slim part, possibility wanted her more than just naked in his bed.

Keep her.

Totally crazy and against everything he knew, everything he was taught.  Arik knew what his pride would ask him to do, the women at least. They'd  tell him to end it. Now. Just get up and walk away. Reinforce her  belief he was an arrogant jerk.

He was, and with any other woman, he might have done it. But this was  Kira. And, for some reason, Kira was different. The various layers to  her intrigued him.

Must find out her secrets. Must find a way to chisel through her  shields, which were fully engaged at the moment as she sat there, prim  and innocent with her hands laced in her lap. A concentrated attempt to  pretend as if the kiss hadn't happened.

He let his fingers tickle her nape, and she shivered, unable to hide her reaction to him.

"And you, sir, what will you have?"

Was that idiot still there, ruining his pleasant thoughts? "I'll have what she's having, times two."

Magic words that saw the waiter finally leaving. "Where were we?" He  purred the words, something his lion form just couldn't do. However,  make no mistake, this wasn't the contented purr of a housecat getting a  treat. This was the purr of a predator buttering up his conquest.

Buttered her so well, she slipped away and feigned indifference.

"So what do you think of the décor?"

Wood. Lots of it, and he didn't mean just the walls. "I think you're avoiding what just happened. I think we should discuss it."

"Discuss what? It wasn't a big deal. You kissed me."

"It was more than a kiss."

"If you say so." As she replied, she continued to studiously ignore him.

So stubborn. He went silent and stared at her, knowing it wouldn't take long to drive her nuts.

She lasted longer than expected, but finally, she snapped. "What do you want from me?"

"I thought I made that clear. You. Me. Somewhere private."

Tilting her head, she glanced his way. Her lips pursed. "You're very stubborn."                       
       
           



       

"I know. Are we continuing the alphabet of my attributes, such as handsome, impressive, jocular."

"You're not that funny."

"Says the woman who was snorting a moment ago."

"Conceited."

"That doesn't start with a K."

"No, but kookoo does."

"We made it to L. Lover."

He grinned as she rolled her eyes. "Good grief. You won't stop trying to seduce me until you get what you want, will you?"

"No." Firmly stated.

She heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine."

"What do you mean, fine?"

"We'll eat dinner and then have sex. But don't take too long would you  with the humping and grunting. I've got to work in the morning, and I'll  need a shower."

That didn't sound exactly seductive. He frowned. "You make it sound like a chore."

She angled her head sideways so she could smirk at him. "I guess that  depends on who's doing all the work. In this case, that would be you. So  you'd better make it good, or no amount of begging and big, pleading  eyes will get you seconds."

Begging? Did she think he begged her? Fur ruffled, he slid back to his  seat across from her so he could better read her expression.

She, of course, misunderstood his strategic move.

"Did I prick someone's ego?"

"We'll see who gets pricked," he muttered ominously.

She caught the innuendo. The blush brightening her cheeks brought some of his cockiness back.

She's not the only one who can verbally tease.

But she made eating a whole new form of torture.





Chapter Eight


He's going to pounce.

It sure seemed that way to Kira. She'd thought once the food arrived  that the sexual tension between them would diminish. Sure, the thrown  verbal challenges kept the lid on the simmering pot, but it wasn't  enough to douse the fire.

The man plain fascinated her. He took her rebukes and teasing with mock  anger, sometimes affront, oftentimes laughter. Then he retaliated in  kind, not tossing false flattery her way but, instead, tossing out  outrageous suggestions.

She had almost reached the point that she needed to fan her flushed skin  when the food arrived. Lots of it. Arik had ordered double her meal,  which wasn't small. They started with the salad. Not a sexy food, anyone  would agree.

And yet, when she licked some of the creamy Caesar sauce from her bottom  lip, she could have sworn Arik groaned. He definitely inserted a foot  between her legs. He'd slipped off his shoe under the table, and his  toes, more agile than she would have expected, wiggled their way up her  leg. She caught it before it hit the apex of her thighs.

"What are you doing?"

"Who me? Nothing." A man of his bearing shouldn't have the ability to look innocent and devilish at the same time.

She tried to budge his foot. It didn't move. Actually, it wiggled higher. "Don't you dare."

"I was just looking for a warm spot. Their air conditioning is set a touch too cold for me."

"I am not a toe warmer."

"You're right. You're more than that. Personally, I'd much prefer to have you wrapped all over me."

And that was the way the small talk went during the salad. As for his  foot, she kept it from pressing all the way, but only because he didn't  insist. She, on the other hand, found herself hard-pressed to not slide  on the bench and let his toes press against a certain aching part of her  body.

The man took foreplay to a whole new level-while they were both still clothed!

However, she'd discovered his weakness. Licking her lips was one. How  avidly he watched the swipe of her tongue. Yet it was her groan of  enjoyment at her first bite of the perfectly seasoned, flame-kissed  steak that had him making the oddest growling sound.

She finished chewing and swallowing the succulent hunk of meat before  asking, "Are you all right? You seem to be a little tense."

"Nothing little about my tenseness, mouse."

"Men! Always so concerned with the size when it's all about the tongue."  She could have crawled under the table when the words-loosened by a  very delicious martini-spilled from her lips.

"No worries, mouse, when it comes to licking, I am a master."

To that, there was no reply-because she sure as hell wasn't going with the one that popped into her head of, ‘Prove it.'

Their verbal foreplay during the main part of their meal was nothing  compared to dessert. It seemed he'd tired of sitting alone. Once again,  he crowded her, sharing her bench.

"You're in my space."                       
       
           



       

"I am. Get used to it. I like to cuddle."

His claim had her gaping. He took the moment to spoon a mouthful of  dessert into her mouth. Caramel-topped cheesecake. Her favorite.

She groaned. Loudly. With great pleasure.

Something growled. Softly. And then he kissed her, to her pleasure.

It proved a short kiss. She protested, and another spoon of sweetness  was fed to her. Followed immediately by another embrace. Sugar goodness.  Hot kiss. Ooh, some tongue. Some groping.

A voice asking if he could get them anything else-the waiter seriously wanted to die.

As if sharing one mind, they both snapped, "The check."

Arik tossed bills on the table, much more than needed for their meal.  His haste to get them out of there proved quite flattering. They made it  out of the restaurant and around a corner before he pushed her against a  wall. His hard lips claimed hers in a torrid kiss, which sucked all  reason from her mind. His large hands cupped her bottom, pulling her  against him, outlining the evidence of his arousal. His very large  arousal.