Serenity King Expressions: November 2010

Caress My Body

Part Two

Sinclair hadn’t heard when the sexy stranger standing there ogling her entered her house. How did he get in? Granted the music was blaring but she surely would have heard a window being broken if he had entered through one.

Okay, think Sinclair. He didn’t look like a rapist or murderer; nor did he look as if he’d have a problem getting a lady, or several for that matter, willingly. But then again, what did a rapist or murderer look like?

One thing was sure, if Mr. Fine was a rapist, murderer or both he wouldn’t get to her without a fight.

Sinclair searched her brain for something. Anything. She was too far away from the phone to put in a call to 911 and her cell phone was in her bedroom down the hall. She could probably make a run for it but doubted very seriously that she’d make it across the room in her stilettos.

Think Sinclair. Think. Damn how do I get myself into these situations? I will not panic. Too late for that I’m already in meltdown. Okay, the trick is not to let my fear show. Let the stranger think I’m in control.

Hell, she thought, bouncing from one foot to the other.

Some of what she was thinking must have shown on her face; she noticed Mr. Fine’s eyes bulge and it appeared as if he was getting ready to make a move. Sinclair’s instincts clicked in and before she knew it she had picked up the first thing in her vicinity, a candle stick holder, and thrown it across the room at his head. Next went her half drunken glass of red wine.

Did he just say, “Honey I’m home?”

Jonas ducked just in time to miss the candle stick holder that she flung at him, then hit the floor to keep from being hit by the glass of wine.

Who the hell are you?” Sinclair screamed, looking around for something else to throw at him. All traces of fear gone… survival took over. She was not going out without a fight.

“Who the hell I am? Just who are you, Lady?” he yelled back. “Do you normally break into homes, dance naked, than try to kill a person because he has the decency to look at you?”

“Break into homes? I didn’t break into anyone’s home! You’re the intruder. I have a brand new deed to show for this home, and I’m warning you, you won’t take me alive. And, if you kill me, trust, my family will hunt you down like a dog and put you out of your misery.”

A deep frown furrowed Jonas’ brow. “What the hell are you talking about? Your home? New deed? Kill you?” Jonas’ insides tightened. He couldn’t think properly with her breast jingling and her long legs parted, giving him full view to her sex. Not that he didn’t appreciate the view, but his gut told him something about this whole scene wasn’t right and that he needed to start thinking with the head on his shoulders not the one between his legs.

First he needed to calm her down before she brained him. Jonas noticed her eyes scanning the room for another weapon. “Listen, will you calm down for a minute and let’s figure out what’s going on here? I assure you, I am not trying to kill you.”

“Sure you’re not,” she tossed back. “I’m not letting you assault me either. You’d better be prepared for the fight of your life buddy.”

“Assault? Woman! I’ve never assaulted a female in my life. In any way, shape or form. Seriously! Do I look like a rapist?” He risked another look up at her from his embarrassing position on the floor.

“I have no idea. Did Ted Bundy look like a serial killer? I don’t think there’s a particular look that a serial killer has.”

Jonas’ lips twitched in a smile. She did have a point. Bundy was a classic case of looks-can-be deceiving. But, hell, if he was a rapist he would have pounced on her the moment he opened his front door and saw her swaying her delectable almost bare body to the music. Jonas was pleased she was using some common sense, but, damn, he wasn’t up to getting his head bashed in. Nor did he want to hurt her trying to defend himself.

Jonas felt the pain behind his eyes before he saw what had caused it. He shook his head to clear it as her stiletto fell to the floor beside him. She was out for blood, he thought as he quickly scurried behind the nearest sofa. “Dammit! Woman will you stop throwing things at me. I am not going to hurt you. I just want to get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

“No. If I take you out now it’ll save the taxpayers money on a trial,” she yelled. Picking up a Tiffany lamp, she hurled that at him as well. The glass shattered next to his feet.

“Listen,” he shouted, “My name is Jonas Thorn, and I own this house. I’ve been living out of the country for the last two years, but--”

“Impossible. I bought this house from Jonas Thorn, and I’ve known him for two years. He is definitely not out of the country, and you are definitely not Jonas,” she interrupted.

“What the hell! Lady, I’m Jonas Thorn, and this is my house!” He yelled. “If you stop for a moment I will show you my ID.”

Go figure, the goddess in his house was crazy, a con artist, or both. It was just his luck and maybe his death if she didn’t stop trying to take his head off.

“Tell me anything. I’ll believe you,” she replied sarcastically, still scanning the room for more things to throw.

Okay that did it. Jonas hurtled off the floor and charged at Sinclair, scooping her up off her feet and over his shoulders before she knew what had hit her. He heard her shriek of surprise, but she kept fighting like a wildcat.

“Put me down!”

“No. Not until you calm down.” Jonas winced and cried out as her nails slashed through his shirt and caught the bare skin of his back. “Will you cut that out?” He headed for the chair nearest him. At the rate she was wiggling around in his arms, if he didn’t sit soon they’d both be on the floor.

He gripped her buttocks and slid her down the front of his body. Damn, her breasts felt good against his already heated body. Her blazing center came into contact with his abdomen and he thought he’d have a coronary.

Oh, man, he needed to sit now. Jonas made his way over to the closest armchair with Sinclair still wiggling in his arms. He placed her firmly in a sitting position on his lap as he took his seat in the chair. The soft globes of her ass were now nestled against his growing cock. If she didn’t stop moving, she really would have a reason to be scared.

Too Late, she must have felt his arousal because she began fighting even harder.

“No!” she shrieked. “Let go of me!”

“I will as soon as you calm down.” He had no idea how he was managing to speak to her so calmly. The sweet smell of her perfume and her delectable backside was sending his senses into overdrive. Not to mention all of that wiggling she was doing up against him. “Keep still. I promise I am not going to hurt you.” He pinned her legs between his own and used his arms to restrain hers.

“Yeah right. Your lips are saying one thing but a certain part of your body is saying something different.”

“Yes, well it’s only going to get bigger if you don’t stop wiggling on it. It’s sensitive you know.

Sinclair suddenly stopped moving. “Really?” she questioned. “What am I saying? I don’t know you.”

“Trust me it can and it will,” he said, than groaned low in his throat when she scooted her bottom against him again evidently in an attempt to right herself on his lap. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Do what again?”

“Push your ass back against me.”

“I didn’t push my ass back against you. I was trying to get off of your…never mind. Just let go of me.”

“If I let you go will you promise not to hit me? By the way, what is your name?”

“None of your business,” she hissed.

They both started at the sound of someone jostling the door handle. Whoever it was used a key to open the door. The man that walked in never bothered to look up before he started speaking.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, than stopped in his tracks, as he took in the scene before him. “Whoa!”

“Oh goodness,” Sinclair gasped.

“Dammit,” Jonas murmured, releasing her legs and shifting her on his lap.

Jonas watched as their visitor briefly glanced at the mess on the floor before looking at him, the woman on his lap, and back at him again.

“I can explain,” Jonas said quickly.

To be continued…

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