by E. M. Gayle
"At some point you have to listen to your instincts, Zia. While it's smart to use your head most of the time. Sometimes it just gets in the way. This is one of those times."
My throat thickened. "My head is usually right," I managed to grit out. "My instincts tell me I need to stay far away from you." However, it was my body that wanted control right now. A little fact I wasn't prepared to divulge.
"Is that right?"
I wanted to answer him and end this once and for all, but my throat had thickened to the point the words couldn't come out.
When I didn't respond, Vincent wrapped a strong hand around the back of my bare neck and pulled me close to him. The heat from his touch alone felt like an imprint on my skin. Like he wanted to brand me or something.
I nearly groaned at the image. My mind didn't want to listen to reason and it was headed down a deep, dark path I'd promised myself I wouldn't travel again.
"If you want to get away from me then why are you still here?"
I tried to swallow and couldn't. His fingers curved around my fragile neck were tight and slightly punishing. I might have marks from them tomorrow. And that thought alone made the pulsing between my legs almost unbearable.
"That's what I thought." The rumble of his voice next to my ear made my legs a little weak. "Put your hands on the counter and bend over."
My body jerked at the dark demand whispered into my ear. Before I could move, his hand snaked underneath my skirt and slid up the inside of my leg. I tried not to moan, I really did, but the desire for this—for him was too strong.
"Why are your legs already shaking, my little chef? I thought you didn't want this?"
His mocking tone set my core on fire. Oh, God.
"I lied."
Another deep rumble vibrated from his chest through my back, making my nipples harden to impossible points. I looked down to see what he'd done and found my hands palms flat on the countertop in front of me just as he'd ordered.
What the hell?
I didn't remember moving at all.
Another gasp slipped from between my clenched lips as his fingertip glided over the thin swath of silk covering my pussy lips.
"Fuck, you're dying for this. I can feel your heat trying to burn my fingers right through your panties."
My stomach quivered as I tried not to squirm against him. He wasn’t lying. He had me figured out and I couldn't deny it.
"Deep down you are a dirty little wild thing aching for everything I have to give. A trait I love, by the way." He rubbed a little harder between my legs. "With me you can be that and more. Freedom to be the woman you want is here. All you have to do is ask."
"This is beyond crazy."
"Maybe," he said as my panties were yanked down and he plunged one finger inside me. "But it's what you want."
My keening moan filled the room as the synapses in my brain fired and misfired to keep up with the sensations rocketing through me. I could already feel that I was going to quickly lose my mind. Or at the very least my control.
I did want this. All of it.
"Louder. Don't try to hold it in. You're mine now and I always take care of what's mine."
The slow, leisurely strokes were maddening as he finger fucked me to the edge. I knew he wanted me to beg and I didn’t know if I could resist it for long. I was already there, dying, needing so much more.
My fingers tightened around the opposite edge of the counter as I pulled myself taught across the cool, hard granite. I even stood on my tippy toes so that I could give him a better angle to hit just the right spot...
Thwack! The sharp crack against my backside mades me yelp, but I was immediately rewarded with a second finger pushed inside me.
Between the heated burn of my ass and the pleasurable stretch of accommodating two fingers, I was seriously losing my mind. But I knew from experience this was nothing compared to his cock and I can't be satisfied with anything less.
Screw resistance. I needed him. Now.
"Vincent, please," I begged, just as he wanted. "I need your cock. Please. Please. Please—"
His fingers twitched at the back of my skull, sliding into my thick mass of hair where he grabbed a handful and pulled. "Is that really the proper way to beg for what you want? I think you know better than that."
"I want it all." I was so ready for it I was about to scream.
A few moments later I hear the crinkle of foil I assume is a condom. Yes! No more waiting.
But my head was pulled back harder and that painful tingle along my scalp returned. "Don't be shy. I know what you want, but you are still going to say it or that ache inside you for me to fill with my cock is going to remain."
His voice was low with a dark timbre that bordered on mean. The man that put me on my knees in Italy and made me admit my darkest desires and then fulfilled them had returned. This man I couldn't resist no matter how hard I tried.
If I was soaked before, I was probably dripping wet now. Fuck. I groaned. This man.
As if he sensed both my need and my hesitance, I was nudged by his thick, solid length at my entrance.
"Say it, Zia. Either you get what you want, baby or I'm going to jerk myself and come on these sweet lips without ever touching you."
My muscles clenched, my body's objection evident. Surely I would die if he didn't touch me.
I was going to give in and we both knew it. Desperation had taken over the minute his skin hit mine. "Do it, Vincent. Fuck me hard. Fast. Rough. Please."
He groaned and pushed in a fraction. "Please?"
I turned and pressed my face into my arm, suppressing the smile that I couldn't hide. Submission was a tricky thing, with little nuances that seemed to make all the difference. "Please, Sir."
Without another word he pushed in more and I was reminded how big he really was. It's not just the muscles of his arms that are huge. He was extra-large everywhere. He may have been made to fight and excel in a ring, but he'd also been designed to fuck a woman to the brink of madness.
When he finally sank balls deep, my breathing had turned erratic and labored. "Vincent. God. I can't—"
His dark chuckle returned as the wave of my first orgasm slammed into me, unleashing the beast of a man behind me. The following strokes were alternately short and deep, rough and slow. With each one hitting all the spots that made me want to come forever.
My instinct to move and thrash against him was only tempered by the fact that he had me pinned down. Not only by the hand tangled tightly in my hair, but with the addition of his hand pressed hard against the small of my back. I was one hundred percent at his mercy and it suddenly felt like a glorious place to be.
I submitted and he took control. I was his to take. His to own. His to fuck however he pleased.
And I loved it.
Before the aftershocks of my first orgasm had completely subsided, I felt another building. My hold on reality was quickly fading. I knew soon I'd be nothing more than a writhing mass of chaotic pleasure. Thrust after thrust he pounded into me and my incoherent words have evolved into constant moans.
Please don't stop.
I was unable to speak the words, but I prayed he’d get the message anyways. He might have said something to me, but I could make out nothing over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears as the world shook around me. I shattered into a million pieces and could only hope that when this was all over he'd pick me up and put me back together again.
I was lost. So far gone. Until the sound of his roar of ecstasy thundered through my mind, igniting the last piece of me that still hovered on the edge. My hair was suddenly released and my head tipped forward as he grabbed my hips with both hands and shoved into me one last time. Hard. Unyielding. Deeper than before.
He draped his big body around mine and blocked everything else out. In this moment he'd obliterated all of my fears and doubts and instead filled me with—hope. Tears burned behind my eyes and I prayed I'd be able to keep them there. The emotions he'd unleashed w
ere pulling me under.
I needed to be with this man.
It's an undeniable truth that may shatter us both...
Chapter Ten
ZIA
Four insane days had passed since Vincent had turned my world upside down—again.
All without a word or sighting from the bastard.
Not that I had spent every waking moment waiting to hear from him. At least that's what I tried to tell myself. Truth be told, I'd been thinking about him far more than I should have.
The restaurant prep had run me and my staff ragged the whole week, stretching my already frayed nerves and still thoughts of Vincent had managed to pop into my mind when I least expected them to. So much for his aggressive insistence on resuming our sexual relationship.
Guess I wasn't that important to him after all.
I was happy about that thought I assured myself. I didn't want to do this again with him in the first place. The emotions that had roared to the surface to threaten my sanity were not real. They were orgasm induced, plain and simple.
This was the same old argument I'd given myself day in and day out since the night of his party. As much as I hated the repeated thoughts, it really was for the best.
Yet, my mind continued to wander back to the memory of his lips on my skin or the sting of his palm against my ass. Or that final moment of combined ecstasy that had shattered everything. I bit my lip to throttle the sudden whimper forming in my throat.
I didn't want him back in my life. I didn't.
I not only had no extra time for anything more than what was already on my plate, I couldn't take the risk. Not that I didn't already worry almost constantly that the other shoe would drop at any moment. That those photos would appear online or worse, on the television with no warning.
They were just the kind of thing someone like TMZ would go nuts for.
A groan rumbled in my throat a moment before I blew out a hard breath.
"Do you always make these kind of noises when you cook?"
I jumped at the unexpected voice behind me and dropped the spoon I'd held in my hand.
"Do you always sneak up on people," I said on a laugh as I bent to retrieve the utensil before turning to face Nina.
"I'm surprised you didn't hear me approach. These heels make a racket on the marble floors in here." She lifted her foot and motioned to the four-inch spikes with the red bottoms.
"I don't know how you handle working in those all day. My feet would be fried by lunch."
Nina grimaced. "You have no idea. They may make my legs look great in this skirt, but they are hell on my poor toes. Heck, most days I can't believe this is my life now. A year ago if you'd told me I'd be dressed to kill in designer clothing and working in a four-star hotel in Vegas I would have laughed at you. I lived in jeans and Chucks back then running a small diner on a lake. That was as dressed as I usually got. I'm a casual girl at heart and I'm a lot more comfortable in a pair of converse than these."
I could only shake my head because I couldn't imagine Nina as she'd described herself. The woman looked made to do what she did and how she dressed for it.
"Well, if that is true, you certainly had me fooled." I tossed the dirty spoon into the sink and retrieved a new one from the hooks above the stove before returning my attention to the new sauce I'd created.
"Whatever that is, it smells divine. Is that what has you so distracted you didn't hear me come in? A new recipe?"
I heard the disbelief in her voice as I contemplated my answer. It was true that I had these new concoctions on my mind, but if I was completely honest it was my thoughts about Vincent that kept my focus wandering. Not that I needed to share that with my boss's wife.
Again.
I'd already shared enough.
"There's a lot to get done in the next few weeks. I've pretty much got a massive to do list running through my head on a continuous loop." And if that loop kept getting interrupted by memories of my adventure with Vincent the night of his party, I definitely didn't have to mention it.
"I've heard rave reviews from several guests from the party the other night. Not to mention all the inquiries about our sold out opening night. They can't stop praising your food."
"I would hope so. Those new dishes were absolutely brilliant."
Nina's throaty laugh filled the kitchen. "Why don't you tell me how you really feel?"
I shrugged. "A good chef is nothing if not confident."
"Is that what you call it?" She was laughing again and I saw no reason to be offended by her mirth. A certain amount of arrogance from a seasoned chef was to be expected. If I didn't believe in my food then no one else would either. I'd learned a long time ago that being humble would not serve me well in this competitive field.
"So, what really brings you all the way back here this late at night? Is your husband still working too?"
Nina's laugh died and my stomach plummeted at the suddenly serious look that crossed her face. I didn't know what she was about to say, but I feared I wouldn't like it.
"As you can imagine, in a hotel casino there are literally cameras everywhere and Gabe receives regular reports on any unusual activity." She paused and took a breath. "Not that I want to be intrusive on your personal life, or tell you how to run your kitchen, but it's been noticed that you've been working almost nonstop for days. We're concerned."
I bristled as she reminded me of something I'd instinctively and factually known, but kind of forgotten. Not that I wasn't used to this kind of thing. As part of a celebrity reality show, I was often subject to people watching me any time day or night. In fact, so much so that I hadn't given signing the contract addendum about my lack of privacy from the hotel a second thought.
"Opening a restaurant demands a lot of my time. This is not a vacation so I didn't come here expecting rest and relaxation."
She stepped forward and touched my arm. "And Vincent? Does he have anything to do with this, uhm, situation? I've been meaning to find you since the party and find out how things went for you. Besides the food, I mean."
I continued to stir my sauce while staying silent. What was I supposed to say? I didn't know this woman well enough to confide in her any more than I already had. What happened between Vincent and myself that night went beyond personal. It was dangerous.
He was dangerous.
Clearly, when push came to shove, I couldn't say no to him. Didn't want to say no. That was the truth I'd finally admitted and look where it had gotten me. A slight shiver worked up my spine as the memories flooded over me. This whole conversation was making me uncomfortable and a little irritated.
"There's nothing for you or anyone else to worry about between me and the hotel's prized fighter. I intend to keep our future interactions as professional as possible." What choice did I have? How many times in the last four days had I thought about texting him to share one thing or another or just to see how he was, only to remember that I didn't even have the phone number of the man who'd fucked me into oblivion.
I didn't turn around to look at her, but I could swear I felt her eyes boring into my back as I waited for her to respond.
"Zia, that's not what I meant at all. I came here for you because I'm worried about how you feel. Vincent is not my problem."
"But I am?" I said as I whirled around to face her.
Her face crumpled. "No. No. That's not what I'm saying. You aren't any kind of problem. I know we haven't known each other long, but I thought we were becoming friends. Living in a hotel like this comes with certain challenges as does having feelings for a certain kind of man. I thought we kind of understood each other."
I swallowed thickly not entirely sure what she meant. Gabe seemed nothing like Vincent. Although he did give off an intense vibe.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean," I said cautiously. I was starting to sweat and my heart beat harder than it should from such a simple conversation. I nearly choked trying to hold back a laugh at that thought. Nothing that involved Vincent
could ever be called simple. That was part of the reason I should have stayed away from him.
"Part of my job here is to know our guests. Vincent is a casino VIP here and when he needs a suite, he always requests the same one. I'm sure you might have noticed during the party the extra touches in there that make it different."
My focus faltered at the same time my body swayed from the onslaught of memories that slammed into me.
The shackles on my wrist.
The fear that Vincent wouldn't let me go.
And the exhilaration that accompanied that thought.
Fuck.
Was I crazy?
I had responsibilities and a reputation to protect. Getting too close to a man like him... I couldn't afford to let him or anyone else in like that. Dark corners were meant to be avoided for a reason. I had to stop thinking about him.
"Zia, are you okay?"
I vaguely heard Nina talking to me, but the words were distant. My chest constricted to the point it felt like my ribs were caving in. I dropped the spoon to clutch at my chest as the room began to spin around me.
"What the hell?" Nina's panicked voice barely penetrated as I staggered away from the stove.
I couldn't breathe.
Black spots crossed my vision and for a second I thought I would pass out.
“Dammit.” Nina grabbed my arm and practically dragged me to a stool and pushed me down on it. "Are you having a panic attack?"
I blinked up at her, but didn't respond. What was she talking about?
"I—I'm fine."
"Screw that. You are not fine. When was the last time you ate something?"
Again, I didn't answer. This was not the time to think about food. Other than what I had cooking on the stove.
"My sauce—"
"Will be crap if you're passed out on the floor or worse." She pulled out her phone and her fingers flew across the screen. It rang a moment later and she pressed it to her ear.
"Gabe," she breathed heavily. "I need a doctor in Zia's kitchen. She's having some kind of attack." She paused and I groaned at the idea of my boss freaking out at the other end.