Her skin chilled. “You don’t want to be obsessed with me?” She tried to make a joke of it.
But she was the one who’d get obsessed. It was in the blood.
“I can’t afford to be obsessed by anyone. There’s too much else I have to do.”
Work? She didn’t want to believe that of him—that he was actually an honest hard worker. That he’d fought to get to where he was. That he had some decency. She’d wanted to blame him for her father’s fuck-ups. But getting to know him? Already she suspected he wasn’t all the villain she’d imagined. “Why don’t you jack off?”
“You think I haven’t?” he laughed under his breath. “I close my eyes. I see you. But it’s not the same. I don’t want to touch myself, I want to touch you. So I’m proposing an arrangement.”
“An arrangement?” She cocked her head. “What do I get out of it? Think carefully before you answer.”
“I’m not crass enough to offer you money. Or access to my father. Your access to all things Summerhill is already a given and is separate from this.”
“But if it’s just sex you’re offering, I can get that anytime. From others.”
His nostrils thinned. “Like playing with fire, don’t you?” He leaned in close. “This isn’t just sex. This is blow your mind. Best ever. However you want it. Dirty, hard, hot, fast. You want to be the boss of me? You want to best me? In this you can.”
Heat speared through her. Challenge. Power. Desire. “You’ll fulfil my sexual fantasies?”
“Every one.”
He was a walking, talking fantasy already. As far as an ‘arrangement’ went, it didn’t seem a bad deal. “Confident, aren’t you,” she drawled.
“You already know I can please you.”
She sent him a look.
“You don’t want a relationship either,” he added with a laugh. “You don’t trust easily. Not enough to let go. Not often. And this isn’t going to involve emotions, Sugar.”
Saw a lot, didn’t he? It made her wary—she wanted to ensure there was a balance of power. “This isn’t just about pleasing me, why is it so important to you?” she challenged.
“I don’t trust easily either… but I find myself wanting…”
She was pleased he didn’t deny its importance to him. “You’re not afraid of what I might do?”
“You won’t hurt me or my company.”
“You’re certain of that?”
He nodded.
“Why won’t I?”
He smiled. “Because you’re going to see Summerhill for yourself. And once you’ve seen it…” he let the sentence hang, utter confidence in his demeanor. “You don’t have to trust me in everything. But in this, in terms of satisfaction, you already do. Use me as you’d like.” He offered. “Whatever, however, you want.”
He was an absolute distraction. But he’d also promised her full access to Summerhill.
Two birds, one stone? She could work with that.
“I’ll meet you out front in five,” she said. “You can give me a ride in your big car.”
“The car again, really?” he winced.
“It’s that or nothing.”
“Are you afraid of letting me into your apartment?” he asked. “Is that too intimate for you?”
She glared at him.
But he, darn him, lifted his tee again. “Did you see these bruises?”
“If you’re not up to it…” she shrugged. Then swiftly relented. “Okay fine. My apartment. But you leave when I tell you to.”
She’d have an hour with him, tops.
“Sure. I’ll move when you tell me to. Come when you tell me to. Fuck when you tell me to.” He stepped up and pressed his lips to hers in the lightest, quickest, tease of a kiss. “That’s the thing, Sugar. In this I’ll do whatever you want.”
Chapter Eleven
The large black SUV was parked—illegally—right outside St Clair’s. She pointedly looked at the no-parking sign, then at his car. “I guess when you own the town, the little laws don’t apply to you, huh?”
She saw the flash of his smile, then the car beeped as he unlocked it. “Coming, Sugar?”
He so meant that juvenile innuendo. And she so responded.
“When I’m ready.”
And that wasn’t going to be as soon as he expected.
This was different from the other night. She knew who he was. And she knew how potent he was. She couldn’t deny her desire for him, couldn’t walk away just yet. But she could control the level of her response.
She sat silently, plotting, as he drove to her apartment. She ruled out the bedroom—for all her talk of chains. It was too intimate. She’d have him in the lounge with the lights on so she could read his expression and enjoy—and soothe—his body. And she’d disable his power.
“Come in,” she invited, putting extra sultry into her tone.
He stared silently, ferociously, at her and waited.
“Stand in here.”
He walked into the room with an arrogant swagger. “Here?” he questioned, standing three paces from the center of the room. “Or should I take one more step to the middle?”
“You were the one who offered himself as fantasy fulfiller,” she answered coolly. “So don’t question, just do.”
The heat in his eyes flared.
Her body almost combusted.
“I want to see you,” she said, suddenly feeling fiercely free. She’d do what she wanted. Take what she wanted. “Take off your clothes. All of them.”
She helped him with the tee-shirt. He tried to hide it, but it was obvious that lifting his arms hurt him. Slowly he shucked his shoes, his jeans, his boxers. Until he stood, butt naked, battered. And freaking beautiful.
He’d obeyed her, but the burning challenge in his eyes was what turned her on most of all.
She walked up to him, her fingers tingling. Her pulse frantic. She reached out, very, very gently.
“Don’t treat me like I’m a damn flower,” he gritted.
“I’ll treat you how I want,” she answered back with a smile.
She heard his sharp inhalation.
She laughed softly. “You were the one who promised…”
He didn’t answer and she resumed her feather-light exploration of him.
It was like she’d been let lose in a sculpture museum after hours and she could get her hands on Michelangelo’s masterpieces… only this perfect statue was living, breathing and warm.
And not quite perfect.
“Where’d you get the scar?” She traced her finger along the rough-edged, jagged line that sliced down the outside of his left thigh.
“Accident on the mountain. I nearly died.”
He said it so matter of factly, she knew it was truth not exaggeration.
“What happened?”
“My brother and I were training. I crashed badly. Logan, my brother, pointed his skis straight down a sheer cliff and went to fetch help. He saved me.”
“How long were you out there?”
“A lifetime.”
“Is it sensitive?”
“I’ve lost sensation in part of the area….” he trailed off with another sharp inhalation of breath.
She’d swept her fingers inwards, to his inner thigh and up, to cup his heavy balls. Testing their weight. And then she wrapped her hand around his shaft.
“Careful.”
“Always.” She stroked a couple times, enjoying the velvet steel feel of him, then released him, moving her attention higher to the bruises.
She didn’t touch them with her fingertips. Instead she bent and brushed her lips very, very lightly over them.
She felt his shiver. “Too sore?”
“No. Too good.”
It was then that her desire exploded.
She stepped back. “Sit on my sofa.”
“You gonna straddle me?” he asked as he moved and sat in the center of the large sofa.
“And make it that easy for you?”
?
?Let me kiss you,” he muttered, lifting his hands towards her as she moved to stand between his gently spread legs.
As much as she wanted him to, she couldn’t let that happen yet. “Soon. I want to kiss you first.”
And she did. Along the breath of his shoulders, down the plane of his chest, to each nipple. She licked down the line of hair that led to his jutting cock.
And then she licked that.
So good. She wrapped her hand round the base of him and licked again.
Damn it. She was never going to get enough. She moaned and pressed close, needed to kiss him—to taste.
“You’re feeling okay?” he asked.
“Of course I am.” She pumped her hand down his shaft. “You’re the one covered in bruises.” She paused to look up at him, then rose on her knees, gently brushing her lips over the ugly markings again.
“I was worried about you,” he muttered.