One Ring to Rule. Christa Maurice

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СКАЧАТЬ hers, his kiss seared through her. Her skin heated until her blouse and jacket felt unbearably hot. She wanted to strip them off, and if her fingers had been less numb, she might have started on her blouse buttons. But her hands hung at her sides, incapable of movement, too dazed by Kent’s nearness. His lips, at once soft and demanding, plied hers until she was quivering.

      When he parted her lips, a moan vibrated between them. Already overwhelmed, she couldn’t tell which one of them had moaned, and she didn’t care. His elegant hands slid across her back, drawing her closer. It made her crave the hard planes of his abdomen pressed against her belly. She reached for him. He buried his hand in her hair, wrecking her hairdo and angling her head for a deeper kiss. Heat spiraled around them, carrying the scent of her desire. She shuddered as the hard length of him pressed into her belly. Her core felt hot and sleek, ready for him. Always ready for him.

      Kent brushed his open mouth along her jaw, lifting her off the floor and pressing her into the boxes behind her. “God, I missed you.”

      A box shifted behind her. This wasn’t a wall he had her pressed against, but an unstable stack of boxes that would fall over and take one of the booth walls with it. The symbolism stabbed her, reminding her of the anger she’d forgotten. She planted her hands on Kent’s solid chest and pushed him off her.

      “You’ll have to go on missing me. We’re done.” She'd intended to say more, but didn't trust her shaking voice.

      Blindly, she rushed through the maze of booth walls, searching for escape. With one hand she finished the demolition of her hair and with the other she searched for her hotel key card.

      “Hey Lindsey, where ya goin’?” Gary shouted after her as she squeezed between the tables to escape the booth.

      “Out,” she snapped. Kent stepped out from behind the display wall, and the cold lump in her stomach reasserted itself. She’d done the same stupid thing last time. She’d rushed into Kent’s trap because he excited her, and she’d ended up in a relationship about as stable as the stack of boxes she’d been ready to have sex on just now. “I’ll be back later.”

      “Lindsey!” Kent called.

      She was creating a spectacle. The early geek crowd rippled as she stormed past. They were like sharks smelling blood on the water, though they probably considered themselves Jedi sensing a disturbance in the Force. Even that cynical thought couldn’t bring her pleasure, and cynicism was all she had left. Her body ached from the pleasure she had denied herself, and the doors were ridiculously far away in the cavernous convention center. She dodged a luggage cart loaded with comic book boxes and heard someone call Kent’s name. Ripping off her badge, she shoved through the doors, startling the security guy on the other side.

      Suddenly a whole new crowd was alerted to something unusual happening. Lindsey paused as the eyes of a thousand comic book fans focused on her. She heard the shocked twitter of her name ring the room as she was recognized. Few of them had seen her in person, and none in this state. This was not the impression she hoped to make at her first convention as editor of her own line, her first convention in four years. She would have to face these people at no fewer than three panels, one costume contest, and hours in between at the booth. She had to pull herself together. It wouldn’t do to let Kent know how he’d ruined her composure, either.

      Lindsey straightened and headed for the escalator to the second level. She caught sight of herself on the black-mirrored walls lining the escalator. It was worse than she feared. Even the dark mirrors couldn’t hide her high color. Her hair hung around her face like she’d just tumbled out of a bed not her own, and her clothing hung askew. She pulled her black velvet jacket straight and heard someone say Kent’s name behind her. She pulled a hand through her hair, lifting her chin at the same time. It made her feel a little less slutty. Why was Kent chasing her through the convention? It only attracted attention.

      If the Comic Buyers Guide had a gossip column, this would be a headliner. Wunderkind Editor Lindsey Cartwright Pursued Through Con by Legendary Artist Kent Farrington.

      “Lins!”

      Lindsey almost leaped off the escalator in her rush to the hotel walkway . Throngs were headed for the Con dragging their collections behind them on luggage carts and dollies. She felt like a salmon swimming upstream.

      “Oh my God. You’re Lindsey Cartwright, aren’t you?” the girl standing in front of her gasped.

      Lindsey skidded to a stop. She could pick her fans out of this crowd. First, they were mostly females. They had short or multi colored hair and wore black. This girl fit the bill down to her blood-red hair and her black ‘Men Suck’ T-shirt.

      “Yes, I am.”

      “You are like my total hero.”

      “Thank you,” Lindsey said as graciously as she could under the circumstances.

      “Good to see a sister in this boys’ club,” the girl said, trying to sound tough but coming off nervous. Poor kid.

      “You know, I’d love to talk,” she lied. She forced herself not to check over her shoulder for her pursuer. He must be gaining. “But I was just on my way somewhere. If you’d like to stop by the booth later today, I should be there.”

      “Oh, totally.” The girl’s eyes became the brightest thing about her, shining with very uncool enthusiasm. “That would be awesome.”

      “Lindsey!”

      Lindsey fought the urge to cringe at the voice behind her. “Later then,” she said, darting through the doors to the skywalk. Now she felt like a salmon in a chute. The skywalk was more crowded, narrower and domed in sickly yellow plastic. She hadn’t gone fifteen steps when she heard the door bang open behind her.

      “Lindsey, running away will not help,” Kent announced. “I know where you are all weekend, I know where you work, and I know where you live.”

      “That’s called stalking,” Lindsey shouted over her shoulder. She didn’t care that several of the geeks had stopped in their tracks to gape at the drama.

      “I just want to talk to you. I can explain.”

      With that, Lindsey stopped, allowing Kent to catch up to her. “Explain. That’s rich. Did you plan on inventing new words? Because none of the ones I know will work.”

      “Lindsey,” Kent said. He grazed her cheek with his knuckles.

      “Stop that, you’re ruining my ultra feminist credibility.” Lindsey twisted her face away. She wanted to close her eyes again and let him do anything he wanted, but she’d already been enough of a spectacle today.

      “Why? Because it’s making you blush?” Kent’s voice dropped to a sexy purr.

      Lindsey’s body strained to fall against his and let him have his way, but she held herself back. “I am not.”

      “I beg to differ. I’m an artist. I know color.” He touched her cheek again. “This is pink, headed for red.”

      “Beg all you want. Nothing will change my mind.” She set off down the skywalk again. The sun shining through the plastic roof heated the hall past the ability of the air-conditioning system. Puddles formed on the floor below a couple of the units. She stalked past them.

      “You always were fast for your size.” СКАЧАТЬ