Shadow Lover (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 14

  Finally Chyna went up to her room. Before long she heard the two come up the stairs being anything but quiet. Since Quinn’s room was right next to hers she spent the night listening to moans and groans, squeaking bedsprings, and the sound of a sturdy headboard bumping up against the wall. It continued into the night. She ultimately tried putting the pillow over her head, but it did no good.

  When she finally did go to sleep she dreamed of being caught up in a tornado, and when she landed she was in Oz. Only Oz wasn't a world of cute little munchkins and a yellow brick road. Instead she saw a misty old mansion, and when she crept up to the front door and knocked, Frankenstein and Dracula answered. She sat straight up in bed, sweating. The noise next door had stopped, so she turned over and tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't.

  She finally gave up and turned on the light, looking around for something to read. When she couldn't find anything she paced around the room for a while, then walked out on the balcony. Nothing helped, so she decided to go down to the kitchen for some warm milk. She felt very small as she crept down the stairs. She’d never been out of her room this late at night, and the creepy old mansion was full of shadows, waiting to jump out at her. That made her think of Kirk.

  Suddenly she realized that everyone in the house was asleep. She stood in the middle of the cavernous room listening to the quiet, deciding that now would be the perfect time to go down and see Kirk without Quinn knowing. Did she dare? If Quinn somehow found out it would be awful. She felt a tremor of fear go through her as her eyes darted toward the doorway that was nestled beneath the large staircase.

  She was nervous, but she just couldn’t let this chance pass her by. Finally, with her mind made up, she took one more look around to make sure Quinn wasn’t the one lurking in a shadow this time, then crept toward the half-hidden door. With each step she took, excitement grew inside her at the idea of seeing Kirk. She gently turned the knob, pulled, then winced when the door expelled a painful squeak. The musty odor greeted her as she moved inside and began to slowly descend the dark, uneven steps.

  When she finally got to the bottom, she wound around the narrow hallway until she was finally standing in front of his door and called out in a loud whisper, "Kirk!"

  No answer.

  A little louder, "Kirk!"

  With no response, she put her hands on the bars and rattled the door.

  Hearing the noise, Kirk looked around. He couldn't believe what he saw. Chyna was standing there in a little nightie that would drive him crazy if he gave it the chance.

  He hesitantly swung his legs down to the floor and sat up. "What in hell are you doing here?"

  "What do you think I'm doing? I'm selling Avon for God's sake. Now, let me in."

  "Sorry, makeup won’t help, so get lost."

  "Kirk, please. I just want to talk to you. Is that so wrong?"

  Kirk buried his head in his hands. "Look, Chyna, if Quinn finds you down here, he's going to string us both up to the nearest tree. Now go away."

  "We wouldn't have to resort to sneaking around if you'd just come up and see me. Didn't you read my note?"

  "Yes, I read it."

  "Well?"

  "I want you to leave me alone. I don't need your help or your sympathy. I told you that already. What the hell's wrong, Chyna? hasn't any man ever said no to you before?"

  "Let me in and we'll talk about it."

  Kirk lowered his head, raking his hands through his hair as he sat there.

  Chyna looked in, but could only see a dim outline of Kirk in the darkness. Before she knew it, the dark, hulking figure slowly appeared before her, a well-placed shadow mysteriously covering his head. He was dressed in a short, dark blue bath robe hanging loose with nothing underneath but briefs. Chyna almost swallowed her tongue. He was husky and so muscled. She felt her face coloring, never realizing what Kirk had hidden beneath his clothes. His chest was covered with hair. He was extremely well built, and his legs were incredible, and so was everything else.

  Frowning down at her, Kirk hesitantly reached down and noisily opened the door for her.

  She edged her way in slowly, halting when he moved in front of her, purposely barring her way. "You're only staying for a moment."

  Chyna was standing so near to him, she could actually feel heat coming from his body. A hot flutter began in her groin, and spread. He finally stepped out of her way and she walked in looking around, not being able to see much in the darkness.

  "Is there a light?"

  "I like it dark."

  "But Kirk, I can't see you."

  "What in hell do you think there is to see?"

  "But I want to see you."

  "I look better in the dark."

  She walked up to him and lifted her hand to his scars. His hand went up and covered hers, pulling it down.

  "Lady, what in hell do you want? What are you here for, to make fun of the poor freak?" His eyes dropped down to her body. "Look at the way you're dressed for God's sake. What in hell do you think that does to me? Don't you think I have any feelings? Or maybe you think I'm made of wood.”

  Chyna looked down at her baby doll nightie, not realizing what she was wearing. Her hands went up in an effort to hide her breasts, but it was useless. "I'm sorry, Kirk, I didn't realize. I'm so used to living alone, I just forgot. Does it bother you that much?"

  "What in hell do you expect? Just because my face is messed up doesn't mean I'm not normal in every other way. Now get out before I lose control."

  "You want me, Kirk?” Chyna’s voice was soft. “Is that what you're saying?"

  "I'm saying that I'm a normal man looking at a woman who's practically naked. Now what do you think?”

  She followed his glowing gaze as it lowered to the soft black lace that cupped her breasts, and suddenly felt naked. She knew that the material was thin, and her nipples were outlined against the thin material, but didn’t expect it when he suddenly reached out, grabbed her hair and pulled her to him. His muscular chest was hard, and her breasts were practically flattened against him.

  "Why did you come down here? You want a sample of how a monster makes love? Just stick around a little longer, and I have no doubt you'll get a lesson you'll never forget."

  She looked up at him, boldly daring him to carry out his threat.

  They gazed into each other's eyes, then suddenly Kirk pushed her away. "Go back upstairs where you'll be safe. I'm dangerous right now."

  "I like dangerous men." Chyna whispered. "Every one of my male heroes are dark and dangerous. Just like you, Kirk, they're dark and dangerous, and daring and bold."

  "Are they freaks?" he yelled.

  "Kirk you're not a freak. But I'll tell you what you are. When you're not fighting against it, you're warm, sweet, tender, and very passionate."

  He looked at her with fire in his eyes. “Warm?" He pointed at the bed. "You want a sample of how warm I can be? On fire would be more like it. And sweet, huh? For two cents I'd rip that tiny little thing right off you. And if it's tender you want, just stick around while I give the word a new meaning. If you stay in here one minute longer, you'll find out how tender I can be. Oh yeah, passionate. Well, you can bet I'm passionate. I haven't had a woman in ten years. You ain't seen passion lady, like you're gonna see it if you don't get outta here, NOW!"

  Turning her full lips up in a knowing half smile, she began running her hand through his chest hair.

  He looked at her, exasperated. "Chyna, for God's sake, don't you hear what I'm saying? With you standing there like that, and me like this, I don't feel very warm, sweet, or tender. I have a violent urge to throw you on the bed and make love to you all night long." He grabbed her arm, turning her toward the door. "That's why you have to go now, before it's too late."

  She stopped and turned back to him, bringing her hand up, pressing her fingers against his full, sensuous mouth. "You talk too much."

  With their eyes embracing, she stroked his mouth until he was drawing on her fingers erotically.<
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  "Please don't make me go, Kirk," she whispered.

  Suddenly he moaned, "Oh, God!" and pulled her to him. He brought his mouth down and covered hers. He began drawing on the sweetness of her lips, then forced them apart, his tongue pushing its way between their fragrant softness. Reaching down, he recklessly picked her up and carried her to his bed.

  She went into his arms tingling, anxiously wanting to feel him deep inside her. When he laid her down, she looked up and saw his sensuous mouth, and his blue, flashing eyes beneath dark lashes. Were there scars on his face? Yes. Deep, ugly, puckering scars, but every one of them made her want him more. She could hear his soft growls of passion, and they excited her, heated her blood.

  "You're sure this is what you want?" he whispered into her ear.

  "Yes," she whispered back.

  "I'll hurt you, consume you, ride you hard—"

  "If you don't, I'll die!"

  "—and fast."

  "And wild," she rasped loudly, feeling a hot, drenching rush of sensation between her legs.

  "You've been warned. Now you're in trouble."

  His growls became louder as his passion deepened. He could feel the selfish, greedy lust filling up his cock, and couldn’t resist pushing his hips against her soft body. He felt like a starving man as his lust continued to rise, compelling him to a savagery he couldn’t seem to help. His tongue tingled as he pushed her breasts inside his hungry mouth and began drawing relentlessly on her nipples.

  His lips, his tongue, and his biting teeth caused a scalding heat to begin coursing through her. Trembling with desire, she pushed herself against him, hearing his soft moans as his lips covered her neck and breasts, filling her with a wanton lust she’d never experienced. She couldn’t wait. Feeling his bruising shaft pressing against her, she reached down with one hand and seized it. She gasped. He was so large, her fingers wouldn’t meet around his hard length. She felt his pulsing passion as she handled him, guiding him to her moist pussy while bringing her other hand up and burying it in his long, dark hair.

  The turbulence of his passion whirled around her.

  When he at last plunged himself into her, she cried out with delight. His plunges were raw and new. She clung to him, her legs circling his hips and locking them with his while urging her hips upward to match his passion.

  Moans burst from deep within his throat, and his hands, large and possessive handled her breasts while chewing and biting them savagely.

  Passion pounded in her blood as his savage love took her from one plateau to another. They rode together, flesh against flesh, man against woman, want and need driving them upward into the storm of passion until Chyna shattered with a long moan, and Kirk growled out his lust while clenching her possessively. They lay for a time in each other’s arms, whispering to each other in loving accents.

  All of a sudden a loud clanging noise sounded.

  Both she and Kirk looked up and saw Quinn standing at the door with a cane in his hand, beating on the door. The look on his face was thunderous.

  "What in hell is going on in there?"

  Both Chyna and Kirk jumped up, standing in each other's arms.

  Quinn jerked the door open and took a quick stride inside. He looked at them clutching at each other, then glanced over at the tangled sheets on the bed. "My God,” he said in amazement. “You were in bed together.” He glared at them, thousands of emotions gripping him at once. Then, managing to bring himself under control, he said, “Well, Kirk, I've got to give you credit. I guess ugly does turn her on."

  "Don't talk to him like that."

  "Shut up, you cheap little slut. I want you to stay away from my brother. He’s had enough pain in his life without you coming in and flaunting yourself in front of him." Then his arrogant eyes slid over to Kirk. "You know, she tried this with me, but I wouldn't play her little game."

  "The last time I saw you two together, she was fighting you off."

  "Well, yes, that time, but I mean later. She's tried to seduce me on more than one occasion since then."

  Chyna turned to Kirk. "Don't believe him, Kirk. I didn't, I wouldn't."

  Kirk looked down at her, unsure of her innocence. "Is that why you came down here? To seduce me after Quinn turned you down?" He looked down at her nightie. "The way you're dressed, you said—"

  "Well, you were right, old buddy,” Quinn said, twisting the cane in his hands while the souls of his shoes scraped along the cement. “She tried to make a sucker out of both of us." He stopped pacing and looked at the bed. Using the cane to lift the cover as if looking for something, he turned to look at Chyna, his eyes raking over her brief nightie. "How far did you get, you little whore? All the way, perhaps? Were you successful at making a sucker out of at least one of the Grayson men?"

  Chyna looked at Kirk desperately. "Don't you see what he's doing? I rejected him, so he's trying to get back at me through you. He knows how I feel about you."

  Kirk turned away.

  "You're not to be blamed, Kirk. It's been a long time for you. You were bound to give in to her blatant seduction."

  "Kirk, don’t listen to him,” Chyna pleaded. “He's jealous, can't you see that?"

  Kirk whirled around and glared down at her. "All I know is you came down here half dressed getting me all hot and bothered. Making my blood boil, determined to get me into bed. I may not know everything that's going on, but I know there's a truth of some kind in there."

  "Kirk, the truth is I'm here because I love you. I was in bed with you because I love you. No other reason."

  "You love a monster? A freak? How can you? I might have lost my head for a while, but everything's clear now."

  Quinn stood in the shadows enjoying the way he had destroyed this little match. A smile tugged at his mouth as he saw Chyna pleading, and his monster of a brother rejecting her.

  "You're nothing but a trash-writing, bed-hopping little tramp. I should have seen through you right away. What were you doing, research? What's your next book going to be about? The love life of the contemporary Frankenstein? The setting was perfect, wasn't it? The dungeon, the darkness, and even the man himself. I'm glad I could look the part for you. Too bad there aren't any bolts in my neck."

  Chyna was so crushed by his words that tears filled her eyes. She slapped him as hard as she could, then walked out.

  Kirk lifted his hand to the sting, and a pang of doubt twisted his insides into a knot. Had he been lied to? Did she love him? What was the truth?

  Quinn hid in the shadows—his work done.

  Chapter 13

  Chyna’s house was slowly going back up, but with all the damage the hurricane had done, the workers were swamped. They had more than one contract to honor, and Chyna had learned to be very patient. In some ways it didn’t really matter, because she couldn’t forget how it felt having Kirk’s arms around her.

  She’d come so close, she thought, then Quinn had come along as he always did and destroyed what she had built.

  It seemed as if a kind of lethargy had set in, and all the fight had gone out of her. She had quit writing Kirk any notes or trying to see him at all. Several times she had wandered up on Cat's Paw to watch him walk the lonely beach, and her heart would go out to him. She’d wanted so much to go down and walk with him, but knew he didn’t want her around, so she contented herself with watching him from a distance.

  Now, as she looked down at him for the last time, she whispered, “Goodbye, my love.” As soon as she’d said the words, the haunting wind whisked them away, taking them and whispering them into his ear, because suddenly Kirk stopped, turned, and looked up at her. By this time Chyna’s eyes were full of tears, and as they met his, she blew him a kiss, turned, and walked away.

  Chyna’s kiss hit Kirk like a jolt in the stomach. Something was wrong. Somehow he knew she’d come to say goodbye. No, it couldn’t be. She’ll be back tomorrow, and the day after that. With her waves, her smiles, and her kisses on the air.

  But she wasn’t. />
  Every day his eyes searched the bluff, raking over the mist-shrouded trees, but she wasn’t there. His hope would plummet, leaving him with an empty feeling. He’d come to expect to see her looking down at him. But after searching day after day for one glimpse of her coming over the hill, he had to face it, she wasn’t coming back. She’d given up on him. No more notes, no more smiles and waves from the misty bluff, and no more visits in the middle of the night. Was it his imagination, or did the shrill wind on Cat’s Paw whistle out a haunting song of lost love.

  * * * *

  In the days following, Chyna was unusually quiet while helping Elaine in the kitchen. She wiped down counters in silence, put dishes away, their clatter doing a poor job of filling up the deep hush. Finally Elaine turned to Chyna. “Chyna, what’s wrong? You’ve hardly spoken a word all evening.” She looked at her, worried. “Are you feeling okay? How is your head?”

  “My head is fine, Elaine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, I guess.” After folding up dishtowels, and hanging them on a rack, she dropped down into a chair as if she had the whole world on her shoulders. While dragging a tired hand through her hair, she looked up at Elaine. “Elaine, I want to thank you for all you’ve done, but I think it’s time for me to leave.”

  Elaine’s eyes widened as she sat down beside her. “Chyna, you can’t.” Her eyes filled with tears. “If you leave, Kirk—”

  “Elaine, I don’t know what else to do. I love Kirk, but it’s hard to fight ten years of self-loathing. He’s built a wall around himself, a fortress to hide behind, to guard against hurt. I’ve tried everything I know to get through, but as long as he hates himself, he’s not going to be able to accept anyone’s love. He resists me, calls me names—”