My momentary distraction caused me to loosen my thighs, and his hips thrust forward, filling me up in one smooth motion.
“Ah! Jay, stop,” I gasped, my protest weak, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
His deep, satisfied chuckle did all sorts of wonderful butterfly-like things to my stomach. He slowly withdrew and flopped over onto his pillow, his arms thrown up above his head. Then he reached for the phone and quickly dialed room service, ordering enough food to feed a small country.
“What about The Exorcist?” he asked once he’d hung up, returning to our earlier topic of conversation.
“Hilarious, especially when the girl’s head starts to twist around.”
Jay’s mouth formed a flat line as he studied me, perplexed, and I could tell he was thinking real hard. “I bet I could scare you,” he murmured low, his voice giving me momentary shivers.
I rubbed absently at the gooseflesh on my arms. The thing about Jay was that even though he was laid bare to me and all his secrets revealed, there was always a hint of mystery beneath the surface, always the idea that he could be thinking of something far beyond the realms of my paltry imagination. His mind was a kaleidoscope of trickery, and I was still learning how to navigate the terrain.
“That sounds ominous. Do you mean you could scare me because you’re in fact a psycho killer, or scare me with a magic trick?”
His eyes crinkled at the edges, and there was mischief in his gaze. “The latter, obviously.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Your tricks are cool and everything, but they mostly astound and amaze me rather than scare me.”
I loved that Jay was an illusionist. It was so incredibly exciting to live with someone who was constantly coming up with new ways to surprise people. It was also incredibly sexy when he was on stage. However, I was now accustomed to strange things happening, so the fact that I knew it wasn’t real made it hard for me to believe I’d be frightened. If something out of the ordinary occurred, my husband was usually behind it.
“Halloween’s in a few days, too. I think I’m gonna have to come up with a spooky trick just for you.”
“Go ahead,” I told him breezily, “but it will be a waste of time.”
His grin spread wide, and devilry played on his features. “Oh, yeah? Care to make a wager on that?”
“That I won’t be scared? Sure,” I said, and presented my hand. He took it in his, his thumb brushing along my pulse as he pulled me closer. “What do I get if I win?”
Jay’s eyes went dark, his voice low as he asked, “What do you want?”
I chewed on my lip, thinking about it. Finally, I responded, “How about if I win, you have to let me choose your stage outfits for a whole week, and you can’t argue with my choices?”
I managed the wardrobe for Jay’s magic shows in Las Vegas, which was where we’d usually be if we weren’t currently honeymooning, and he was often difficult when it came to what I chose for him. I wanted to put him in designer suits and those sexy V-neck shirts, but he always wanted to wear plain old combats and vests. He said a V-neck was a man vag, and he wasn’t going to be caught dead in one. I could wrangle him into a suit on occasion, but those occasions were few and far between. Apparently, you sweat like a motherfucker in a suit on a stage (his words, not mine.) I was also dying to get him into a Dixie bow. Don’t ask why — it just needed to happen.
He looked amused yet indulgent, giving me a tickle. “That’s what you want, you little weirdo?”
I gave him an expression that was half scowl, half ambiguous smile. “We both know dressing you is a secret pleasure of mine. Remember the suit I was making for you when you proposed? It was probably the thrill of seeing you put it on that made me say yes,” I teased.
Jay smirked and knelt on the bed, his hands braced on his knees as he stared down at me, his eyes smoldering. “You would have said yes regardless, but back to this bet. What do I get if I win?”
“I don’t know. What have you got in mind?”
It barely took him a second to answer, so I knew he’d already been thinking his prize up as we had our conversation. “You naked for twenty-four hours.”
Oh, typical.
“Jason!” I scolded jokingly. “What would the neighbors say?” Technically, we didn’t have neighbors, since we were living in a hotel until he finished his string of shows, but that was neither here nor there.
“Fuck the neighbors,” he swore, and gave me a hot look. “Anyway, we wouldn’t be leaving the suite for the entire twenty-four hours, if you catch my drift.”
“Oh, so your prize is basically sex for twenty-four hours. You were simply trying to dress it up all fancy-like.”
His eyes flashed at me, and I knew he was enjoying the way I baited him. “More like strip it down.”
I smirked. “Was that a pun?”
“It might have been.”
Stroking my chin, I affected a thoughtful expression. “Hmm. Okay, I’ll agree, on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“If you win, you get your day-long sexathon, but until the bet is over, which would be Halloween, there can be no more bedroom action.”
Jay shook his head ever so slightly, his disagreement simple. “Nope.”
“Hey, hear me out. If we don’t have sex for the next few days, it’ll make the prize that much sweeter, don’t you think? Otherwise, you’ll just be getting something you already have. My prize is something I don’t have, so I think your prize should be, too.”
A breath escaped him as he eyed me for a prolonged moment. “This is presuming I win.”
“Of course.”
He narrowed his gaze, trying suppress a smile. “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Fields.”
I held my hand out so that we could shake on it, and finally he took it. “I guess this means we have ourselves a bet,” I declared. “I’m confident you won’t be able to frighten me, but how do we measure it? How will you know if I’m covering up my fear?”
One eyebrow rose again, and I guessed it was a silly question. Jay had studied behavioral science for years, knew all sorts of mentalist tricks and ways to read people, so I presumed he’d be able to tell whether or not I was scared pretty easily.
“I have my methods,” he replied enigmatically.
“I know that. But we need to make a checklist. Break my fear down into a science so that the end result can’t be refuted.”
He considered me a moment. “People show fear in different ways. The most common symptoms are a widening of the eyes, raised brows, increased heart rate, flared nostrils, dilated pupils, tensing in the muscles, a dry mouth, sweating, trembling, and, of course, screaming.” He reached out and stroked a hand down my face. “A lot of these reactions are similar to arousal, when you think about it. Fear and sex create the same extremes in humans, although only one brings pleasure.”
I swallowed and tried not to blush. “Well, that sounds fairly extensive.”
We might have been married, but I still got goose bumps whenever he was suggestive. It was bizarre that I could still get shy around him, but there it was. In the grand scheme of things, we hadn’t really been together for very long. Still, I knew that I loved him, knew he was the only one for me.
“I’m nothing if not thorough,” he murmured, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on my mouth before climbing off the bed. He went into the bathroom, and I heard the shower come on. When he emerged fifteen minutes later, he was fully dressed, where usually he’d come out wearing a towel around his waist, hair wet, droplets of water still on his skin….
He must have seen the dreamy look on my face, because he chuckled. “What are you thinking about, darlin’?”