In the Dark--A Sexy Billionaire Romance

by Jackie Ashenden

  I bet she was staring at me like that right now behind the blindfold, trying to read me. Had I convinced her? She was sharp. Too sharp.

  The temptation was there to keep talking, keep on justifying, fill the silence, but that would only sound as if I was trying to cover something up, so I stayed quiet.

  Eventually she made a little settling motion. ‘Well, okay then. You got it right, though—tenacious is my middle name.’

  Was that relief? Maybe it was.

  ‘Lucky guess,’ I murmured. ‘Are you going to answer my question?’

  ‘About why I’m here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hmm. Will I get a chocolate?’

  She couldn’t see me, but I smiled anyway. Because she was adorable. She’d been adorable as a kid, and as a teenager, and now she was an adult she was still adorable. And she fitted so nicely in my arms, as if she belonged there.

  How weird to feel that way about her, when I never had before.

  You don’t even know her.

  My gaze followed the angles of her face that weren’t hidden by the blindfold—sharp and distinct. Arresting. Those eyes had been her best feature—or at least that was what I’d thought years ago—but they were hidden now, letting me see the rest of her, and I’d changed my mind.

  She wasn’t just arresting. She was fucking incredible. Pretty pointed chin, silky-smooth skin, elegant neck, slight but gorgeous curves. And that ink on her skin, interesting and purposeful, the design beautifully drawn. Definitely not something she’d got as a dare when she’d been drunk one night.

  Pieces of me were on her skin. And then there was the necklace that glittered around her throat. The necklace I’d given her almost ten years ago and that she still wore. Another piece of me.

  She still cares about you.

  My heart shifted inside my chest, broken and bruised. A lump of fucking coal. She’d had almost ten years of mostly silence from me, yet she still wore that necklace. Had got herself tattooed with symbols of something I’d once said to her.

  Why? She should have forgotten me by now, at least she should have. I’d made it pretty damn easy, after all. Yet...she was still carrying those pieces of me, even when I’d treated her like shit.

  You asshole.

  It was true. But that was who I was now. I didn’t want to deal with anyone else’s feelings, their desires or expectations. I’d carried all of those things for far too long and where had it got me? A fucking hospital bed, pain and years of recovery. I didn’t want anyone to matter to me any more, so they didn’t.

  Still, for some reason I was responding to her, feeling guilty and also protective of her. Though maybe the latter was simply muscle memory, the protectiveness I’d always felt about her ever since she’d been a kid.

  No, scratch that. There was something more to the protectiveness now, a certain curiosity. I knew nothing about what she’d been doing in the years since I’d decided to put my past behind me and reclaim the future that should have been mine. I’d been all about making my bank accounts grow, but what had she been doing? I hadn’t asked Traj, and he hadn’t told me, but suddenly I wanted to know.

  ‘Yes, you’ll get a chocolate,’ I said. ‘And maybe you’ll get more if you answer other questions.’

  ‘What? You want to talk now? I thought the whole point of the orders and blindfold was that you don’t have to.’

  ‘I changed my mind.’ I reached forward and took a truffle from the plate that sat on the little table near the arm of the sofa. ‘Come on. Tell me.’

  ‘Okay, fine.’ She shifted again, that rounded ass of hers pressing against my still-hard cock, reminding me that, while I might have ignored it so far, it was still hungry for what it wanted. ‘Like I said before, the real reason I’m here is because of a man.’

  She’d mentioned before that she was putting someone behind her, and I’d thought it must have been some guy, but I hadn’t fully taken it in until now. And instantly I was conscious of a twist of emotion in my gut, as if a part of me didn’t like that one bit. Which was ridiculous. What did I care if a man was the reason she was here? I hadn’t had anything to do with Vesta Howard-Smith for nine years. I had no claim on her whatsoever and neither did I want one.

  ‘What man?’ I asked, as obviously I wasn’t listening to my own common sense. ‘Why?’

  She shifted her head against my shoulder, the blindfold turned towards me as if she was looking right through it. ‘A man I had a huge crush on a long time ago.’ Her voice had got softer. ‘A man I maybe loved. But he was...a lot older than me and he never saw me as anything more than a kid. I knew nothing would ever happen between us...but there’s a reason I’m still a virgin and it’s not because I never had the opportunity.’ She sighed. ‘It’s more that I never wanted anyone else but him.’

  Everything in me slowed and came to a complete stop. I could barely breathe, and she must have been able to feel it, because my muscles were suddenly rock-hard with tension.

  A man I maybe loved...who never saw me as anything more than a kid...

  No. No, it couldn’t have been me she was talking about. It couldn’t. There must have been other guys in her life, other men who’d only ever seen her as a kid. Better men.

  Who else? You know there’s only one guy she saw a lot of as a kid and that’s you...

  ‘He sounds like a fucking idiot.’ I had to force my voice to work. ‘Why would you want him?’

  In contrast to my sudden rigidity, she’d relaxed. ‘He wasn’t a fucking idiot,’ she protested gently. ‘He was wonderful. I have dyslexia and I used to find schoolwork really hard. He used to help me. And he was so patient. He’d sit there beside me, helping me read, and didn’t seem to mind sitting there for an hour while I struggled with a page of text.’

  Her fingers fiddled with the edge of the throw. ‘My family didn’t understand the issues I had. My dad thought I was stupid and, since I wasn’t pretty like my mom, she didn’t have a use for me, either. My older brother was too busy trying to impress my dad, so he kind of ignored me, but this guy...’

  Her mouth, soft and vulnerable, turned up in the most beautiful smile. ‘He was the only one who ever saw me as something more than a stupid girl who couldn’t even read, or an ugly duckling who’d never grow into a swan. Or an annoying little sister not worth paying attention to. He saw me in a way no one else ever did.’ That smile held me captive, full of warmth, slightly wistful. ‘But never in the one way I wished he would. He was my older brother’s best friend and I guess I was always like a child to him. A kid sister, maybe.’

  All this time she’d held on to me, even though I’d done my best to pry her loose, as I had with everyone else from that part of my life. So many years she’d thought of me, saved herself for me, while I’d given her nothing but silence.

  The guilt hit me hard, along with regret and a fair amount of shame, and I could feel myself getting angry about it too. Because, shit, I hadn’t asked her to carry a torch or save herself for me. I hadn’t asked for her to care. I’d genuinely thought she’d get the message. Was it my fault that she hadn’t?

  Silence is not a message. And you knew the way she felt about you even back then. Come on.

  Yeah, but she’d been sixteen at the time, still a kid, while I’d been twenty-two, my bed full of beautiful adult women ready to do whatever I wanted.

  I still remembered the day I’d given her that necklace. Her mother had thrown her a special ‘sweet sixteen’ party that Vesta had told me afterwards she’d never wanted. She didn’t have any close friends, and the kind of big, social party her mother had wanted for her had never been going to happen. Linda, her mom, had pleaded with me to be there, because then maybe some of Vesta’s high school friends would turn up, and naturally enough they had, once they’d found out I would be attending.

  Vesta had known they weren’t coming for her. T
hat it was me they’d all wanted to see. And yet she hadn’t got resentful about it. She’d hovered at the back of the group when I’d arrived, letting all the people who’d turned up, who weren’t her friends and never had been, push to the front to be the first to see me.

  I’d been angry about it, starting to chafe at all the expectations that kept getting laid on me. Knowing that it wasn’t really me that these kids wanted to see but the football superstar. The kid who’d made good and done his family proud. The vessel for everyone else’s dreams but my own.

  So I’d ignored all those other teenagers and headed straight for the one I’d gone there to see, making it very clear to everyone that it was her I’d come for. My gift to her was private, and I hadn’t wanted them to see it, but I’d given it to her with all the rest looking on anyway, because it might have made her feel better.

  Being accepted was everything to a sixteen-year-old, so I’d figured being the sole object of attention from someone like me would give her some cachet. She’d opened my present right there and then, the necklace gleaming against the black velvet. Real diamonds. But I’d known immediately that it wouldn’t matter to her whether the diamonds were real or not. It was that I’d thought of her. That I’d seen her.

  She was the real star, not me.

  Her eyes had been full of something that at the time I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. Hero worship had turned to something older and more adult. But I’d ignored it. She’d been too young and far too innocent for the likes of me. And I’d been on my way to the top. Everything had gone to my head—the fame, gifts from sponsors and the girls—and all while the pressure from my dad had become heavier and heavier.

  Then, after the fire, lying helpless and in agony in a hospital bed, the last thing I’d wanted was her sitting at my bedside looking at me with big, midnight-blue eyes—her hero fallen off his pedestal. Not so invincible or famous. No glittering future ahead of him. Poor and sad and scarred. Nothing special about me any more. Even my own father hadn’t wanted to look at me after that.

  I’d pushed her away. I’d pushed everyone away. And even now all these years later, every time one of her emails turned up in my inbox I hit ‘delete’ and made it go away.

  ‘Yeah, he still sounds like an asshole,’ I said hoarsely. ‘You really waited for him after all this time?’

  She lifted a shoulder. ‘I never met anyone else I liked as much as I liked him. And I guess I’m a one-man woman. I thought, if I met with some stranger I didn’t know and couldn’t see, at least I could get rid of my stupid virginity. Plus...’ Her lip caught in her white teeth again. ‘I could pretend you were him.’

  The feeling in my chest got worse, that brutal mixture of shame and regret becoming toxic, an acid that burned far deeper than the flames ever had.

  You shut her out, you selfish asshole. While all this time she wanted you...

  No, fuck that. It wasn’t my fault she’d fallen for a guy who didn’t exist any more and never would. She’d liked the handsome veneer. The confident facade. The football superstar racing his own future into a touchdown.

  She didn’t know that under all of that I’d been angry and restless. Starting to crumble under the weight of my father’s expectations—that I would get them out of the projects and earn enough money so they could have a big house in Bel Air and a fancy sports car. So they wouldn’t have to work so hard ever again.

  The pressure had been intense, and I’d started to doubt myself and my ability. Started to hate the game I’d once loved. I’d had thoughts about escaping, leaving it all behind so I didn’t have to carry it any more, even though I’d known it was a selfish thing to want. But then that was what I’d been at heart—a selfish man.

  And I still was. The difference was that these days I owned it. She might remember the man I’d once been, and she might want him. But I’d had nothing to give her then and I had nothing to give her now except pleasure. And maybe that was what I should be doing now, not talking about times that would never come again.

  ‘Time for your reward,’ I murmured. ‘Open up.’

  Obediently she did and I put the chocolate in her mouth.

  ‘And now it’s time for mine,’ I added.

  Then I ripped the throw from her body.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Vesta

  I SHIVERED AS he pulled the throw from me in one hard movement. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. I could feel his anger.

  As I’d talked his entire body had gone stiff with tension and I’d heard the rasp of a note that sounded like pain in his ruined voice, as if my confession had hurt him in some way.

  Part of me was glad. I was tired of being the one who always ended up hurt, who always wanted yet didn’t get. Tired of holding on to something that would never materialise.

  In fact, I wanted to hurt him, and it looked as if I had.

  But another part of me hadn’t wanted to upset the moment when he’d cradled me so gently and fed me food and wine. When I’d had his own strong heart beating in my ear, the warmth of his muscled body against me.

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have confessed everything to him, but there would never be another time. If I didn’t do it now, I never would, and I’d decided I didn’t want to keep carrying it around for another nine years, not the way I was already doing. I’d had to get rid of it somehow and now I had.

  But the reaction I’d always been afraid of had happened. He knew how I felt and he didn’t like it.

  There was a burst of agony in my chest, but I ignored it because his hands were on my hips and he was moving me, directing me, so I sat upright in his lap, facing him, my legs spread on either side of his powerful thighs.

  The pain disappeared, lost under a sudden rush of feverish desire, anticipation and the tiniest touch of fear. Because was this it? Was I his reward? Would this be the moment, after all these years, that I would finally lose my virginity to him?

  I wanted it. God, I wanted it more than I’d wanted anything in my entire life.

  ‘A girl likes a warning,’ I murmured shakily.

  ‘Deal with it.’ He ran his fingers down my sides lightly, from my shoulders to my hips, as if he was tracing the outline of me. ‘I told you not to expect any special treatment because you were a virgin.’

  Oh, he certainly had. And, now he was angry with me, I definitely wouldn’t be getting any. Not that it bothered me. He could do whatever he wanted with me and I’d enjoy it. I knew that much.

  ‘Fair enough,’ I said and then everything went out of my head as I felt his hands cup my breasts, his palms big and hot, his thumbs moving to my nipples, circling them, teasing.

  He wasn’t gentle, abrading the sensitive tips roughly and then pinching them, sending fire along every nerve-ending.

  I gasped, shuddering, and then gasped again as he pinched me a second time, arching into his hands. The slight pain mixed with pleasure was a sensation I’d never experienced before and it was so much sweeter than I’d expected.

  But then, when it came to Eli, everything was much sweeter than I’d expected.

  I felt him move, leaning forward, his mouth at my throat, a kiss burning there, and then his tongue touching my skin. I groaned as he squeezed my breasts gently, testing them with his hands, and then came the sharp edge of his teeth at my throat, another nip.

  I suspected he was punishing me. Unfortunately for him, I was enjoying every second.

  I reached for the buttons of his shirt but he growled deep in his throat, ‘No touching. Already told you that. Hands down.’

  ‘But I—’

  The words were abruptly cut off as the heat of his palm pressed against my sex, the pressure of his fingers on my clit, and lightning joined the fire already building inside me.

  He pressed harder and his other hand slid round me, down to the small of my back, stopping me from moving away. I was
trapped between his hands—the insistent hand on my clit, the one at my back holding me still. I trembled, panting, as the irresistible pleasure began to uncurl inside me.

  He didn’t stop, didn’t give me any chance to take a breath. He slid one finger down to the entrance of my body and pushed gently. I was already wet and it slid into me with barely any resistance, making me shake.

  His hand at the small of my back pressed harder as he pushed his finger in deeper, and I moaned at the feeling. So strange, but so good. I wanted more. More pressure. Deeper. Harder. I wanted movement and friction. I wanted the peak that only he could give me, because it had always been him.

  It will always be him.

  Probably. But I wasn’t going to think of that now, not when what he was doing to me was so damn good.

  ‘You like that?’ he asked in that rough, sandpaper voice. ‘My finger in your pussy?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, my God...yes...’

  ‘You want a warning? Here’s one for you. I’m going to put another finger inside you, get you good and wet. And then when you’re desperate, when you’re begging, I’ll put my cock inside you. I’m going to take your virginity, sweetheart, and you’re going to love every fucking second of it.’

  The words felt hot against my skin, like another rough caress, making me burn.

  Because of course I’d love it. It was Eli.

  And I loved him. I always had.

  He was as good as his word, another finger joining the first, and even though his voice and his words were rough, even though he’d said he wouldn’t be gentle, he was. He eased that second finger in slowly, letting me adjust to the feel of him.

  I shivered and shook, trying to rock against his hand, but he wasn’t having any of that, ordering me roughly to keep still. And I tried. But it was hard when he kept moving his fingers in a slow in-and-out, making me want to move and shift, increase the friction any way I could.

  His mouth made a slow journey over my collarbone, lingering in the hollows, brushing gently over my skin. He paused to lick and to nip—and, as I didn’t know which I’d get, every bit of my awareness was on him and what he was doing.