A Sinful Encore

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A Sinful Encore Page 9

by Jones, Lisa Renee


  Anger and shock come hard and fast. I don’t even think. I grab Kace’s drink and fling it into Gio’s face. “Leave.”

  He licks his lips, the amber liquid clinging to the dark strands of his hair. “That is damn good whiskey.” He smirks and God, I’m at it again. I sway toward him, ready to hit him again, and Kace’s arm is immediately around my waist. “Easy, baby.”

  My eyes meet my brother’s. “I want you to leave.”

  “You need to leave with me,” Gio says softly. “Now.”

  Kace rotates me, giving his back Gio, his hands on my arms. “Give me a minute with Gio.”

  “That won’t go well.”

  “Obviously, but we need to do it anyway.”

  “Kace—”

  “I need to talk to Gio, baby.” His voice is low but steely, and I search his handsome face, looking for the impact of Gio’s accusations, but there is only shadows and stone.

  “You know—”

  “I do. Let me talk to him.”

  I inhale long and deep, wanting to fight him, but where does that really get me or him? Despite Gio, deserving nothing but my anger right now, he’s my only family and I love him. I want Kace to talk to him. I want Gio to give him a real chance. I manage a barely agreeable nod, stepping around him, but I stop dead as Gio says, “You want my trust?” he asks. “Prove it. Tell me this secret she says will ruin you.”

  Rotating, heart racing, I open my mouth to stop Kace from doing any such thing, but he’s already responding. “I made that offer on a day your sister believed you wouldn’t betray or hurt her,” he says. “That day is not today. The day your sister trusts you, I’ll trust you.”

  Gio’s eyes cut to Kace’s right, where I now stand, and when his eyes meet mine, there’s a sharp cut of betrayal in his. It cuts me, too. I feel it in my heart and my anger shifts to desperation. “You’re wrong this time, Gio. We are among people with Kace that can help us. We can finally do just what you want and come out of the shadows. Stop being an asshole and talk to Kace. Talk to Walker. Please. I’m begging you. I love you.”

  “I can’t protect you anymore, Aria.” And with that, he turns and starts walking away.

  Watching him leave is like a blade stabbing me in my conflicted heart. I want him to leave. I want him to stay. He’s my brother. My brother. I’m angry, but I love him and he’s not in the right headspace. “You’re not angry with Kace. You’re angry with Dad for trusting him over you. It’s affecting your decision-making.” He stops walking but he doesn’t turn. “We don’t know why he trusted Kace. We don’t know why he thought we needed him, but if you can’t trust me or Kace, trust Dad. Trust his instincts. The Stradivarius was everything to him.”

  He angles in my direction. “You’re wrong, Aria. All of this is about Kace and I hope you get smart before it’s too late.”

  This time when he turns to leave he leaves. Kace steps toward the door. I grab his arm. “I need to lock up. I’ll be right back.”

  I don’t want to let him go. I don’t. But I do.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I stand with the Hudson River at my back, staring across the living room as Kace charges for the door, praying he and Gio will not collide in conflict. I can feel myself unraveling. I am not myself right now, not the self I know and trust. I am not in control. I need to scream. Or shout. Or drink. I think for once in my life, drinking might be a good solution. So what if I get drunk? I’m at home, even if my brother doesn’t approve of my home.

  My gaze lands on the puddle of whiskey on the floor, remnants of Kace’s drink flung at Gio, and I am back to wanting to scream. I need the mess cleaned up. I need things in order. I rush out of the living room and hurry up toward the kitchen stairs, but pause at the bottom with Gio’s words punching through my mind: Either you’re far more naïve than I realized or you are a sellout. Maybe you like the money more than you thought you would.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and shove that thought away. I also abort the cleanup mission and head for the second living area where the bar is stocked. I still can’t believe Gio would say such a thing to me and in front of Kace. The very idea that Kace might think the accusation true, even for a moment, has me bubbling with anger all over again. Gio has no idea what Kace has gone through. He has no right to demonize me to hurt him.

  I stop beside a wall next to windows and a patio door, and that expensive bottle of whiskey my brother is wearing is still sitting out, ready to be poured. I oblige and pour myself a glass, sipping the liquid and feeling the welcome burn slide down my throat and rush over my chest and shoulders.

  The air shifts, that wicked, wonderful power that is Kace August igniting the room, but I don’t turn. I don’t even know what to say to him right now. I gulp another big swallow and Kace steps behind me, his hand settling on my waist and his touch sizzles through me. I feel every moment with this man in every part of me.

  “You okay, baby?”

  I rotate to face him, my glass between us. “I’m sorry I threw the whiskey. I’m sorry he was such an asshole. I’m sorry he said that about the money. I don’t want your money, Kace.”

  He eyes the glass in my hand and then his probing blue eyes study me, and I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I hold his stare, I let him see the truth in my eyes. I love him. This, us, has never been about money. “And I don’t want the formula.”

  “I know. Say you know I don’t want your money.”

  “Do I have to say that at this point?” he challenges me softly. “You know I know.”

  I down my whiskey and set my glass down. “My brother saying that about me had to have made you feel a pinch in your chest. For just a moment, I know you felt it.”

  I reach for the bottle and he catches it first, our fingers colliding, both of us holding onto it, a charge rushing up my arm and across my chest. My eyes reach for his and he says, “No. I did not for one moment doubt you or us. And believe me, baby, that kind of trust does not come easily for me. Except with you.”

  “Which only makes me hate the way Gio acted all the more. And value the trust you give me.”

  “Yes, well, I did have to use restraint with Gio. Which I did by reminding myself that he’s your brother who you love.” He lifts the bottle out of my reach. “The only way you drink away your troubles with a four-thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey is this.” He tilts the bottle back and swallows long and hard, the muscles in his neck bobbing with the action.

  I swallow hard at how damn perfect he is at being imperfect when he lowers the bottle and offers it to me. I hesitate. “It’s a four-thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey?”

  “Only the good stuff for your brother.”

  That’s all I need to hear. I take the bottle from him and gulp long and deep. “He’s an asshole,” I say, my voice raspy with the whiskey burn and my head light, but I don’t care. “I love him but he’s an arrogant asshole,” I add, taking another drink. “You know Italian culture, Kace. You’ve been around it. The oldest male is the head of the family. We respect them. We trust them. I respected him and trusted him. I don’t trust him right now. I don’t.” With the bottle in my hand, I walk around him and past the couch to the large floor-to-ceiling window, watching as snow flutters by the glass. Up here, above the water and the city, it’s as if we're in a snow globe, our own little, safe world. I don’t want to go back to my old life.

  Kace steps behind me again, his big body framing mine, his hand settling possessively, warmly, on my waist. He leans in, nuzzling my neck, his spiky dark hair teasing my cheek, his earthy wonderful scent seducing me. “Aria,” he says, and my name on his lips is a soft seduction that weakens my knees. Everything about this man affects me in all the right ways.

  Feeling guilty and confused over my brother, and Kace, for that matter, I turn in his arms with whiskey loosening my tongue. “I do like the money, but I’m not here for the money. I don’t know how to be here, and not seem like I like it too much. I don’t know how
to do this, Kace.” I try to drink again and he catches the bottle.

  “I asked Blake to give us an hour, but we have to meet with him,” he says. “I can’t let you pass out until after.” He sets the bottle on the ground by the window. “Stop letting Gio get into your head.”

  I turn to the window, watching the incredible winter wonderland play out over the water, a slow-moving boat churning through the icy water. Kace’s hands find my shoulders and with his touch, I turn back around. “It’s beautiful here, Kace, above the world, above the water. And my clothes are beautiful and the apartment is beautiful and,” my hand settles on his chest, over his heart, “you are beautiful.”

  His arm wraps my waist and he fits my body to his, our legs intimately aligned, our hips melded together. “You are beautiful, Aria. Inside and out, you’re too damn good for me. I want you to enjoy this life with me.” He strokes my hair from my face and tilts my gaze to his. “I need you with me.”

  “Look at what me and my family have done to your life.”

  “Saved it, baby. I told you, you’re saving it, and saving me.”

  My arms wrap around him. “Maybe we’re saving each other.”

  “Then we better stick together, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, the heat of his body warming me all over now. “We’d better stick together. I’m not myself right now. You know that, right? I’m not this out-of-control person. I don’t shove my brother or yell at him. I don’t drink whiskey from a bottle and—”

  “Of course you do,” he teases, mischief in his eyes. “Four-thousand-dollar whiskey in your own home.” His voice firms, his mischief darkening. “You need to get out of Gio’s head and back in your own. You need an outlet that isn’t whiskey.”

  “Play for me. I need to hear you play like you needed a violin in your hand in San Francisco and last night.”

  “You need more than me playing a violin.”

  “I need you to play.”

  “You need to forget that world for just a little while. You need to let it go.” He drags my blouse over my head and tosses it. “Who’s in control right now?”

  My heart starts to flutter. “What are you doing, Kace?”

  He backs me up again, pressing me to that steel beam, his powerful legs caging mine. “What I consider my duty as the man you share your life with. Giving you a way out of your own head and your brother’s, all at once.” He kneels and unzips my boots, his hands intimately caressing my legs, and already my thighs are slick, my heart racing.

  “Isn’t Blake coming over?”

  My boots are gone and he’s standing again, His eyes are pure heat, possessiveness burning in their depths. “We have time for us.”

  “What if he has something important to tell us?”

  “Then we’d already know,” he assures me, unhooking my front clasp bra, only to slide it over my shoulders, the material catching between my back and the steel. His gaze lowers, doing a hot sweep over my bare breasts, my nipples puckering, before his eyes snag mine again, a deep possessive burn in the depths of his stare. “I’m going to spank you, Aria.”

  A rush of conflicting emotions overtakes me. I don’t know how it’s possible that I both crave and resist the submissiveness of this moment, but I do. Kace turns me to face the window, pressing my hands to the railing, his breath a warm tease on my neck, as he says, “You can always say no.”

  Heat spirals through me, his hand on my hip a brand that I feel in every part of me. His thick erection presses against my backside. “Kace—”

  “But it’s also okay to want this, Aria. It’s okay to need the escape. It’s us, just you and me, baby.”

  I swallow hard, my lashes lower, my lips dry. Me and him. It’s just me and him and God, I do need the escape and I know, I just know, that he needs the trust. Still, I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I can’t believe how much I want to do this. “Yes.”

  He doesn’t speak but I can feel his approval wash over me. He kisses my neck, the earthy scent of him seducing me and promising to test my limits. He unzips my skirt, and a second later, he’s sliding it down my hips, and with only a tiny pair of panties and thigh-high tights on, he’s easily exposing my naked backside. Nerves and anticipation overwhelm me and I’m all but shaking, but I don’t feel fear. His fingers caress down the silk strip between my cheeks and I yelp as he yanks it away with a biting tug. But already, he’s made me forget that bite.

  His hands are on my backside and he leans in, his lips close, so very close to my ear, his warm breath fanning my skin, and promising forbidden fantasies I didn’t even know to call my own until now.

  “What are you thinking, Aria?” he asks, the same way he’d asked me one time before when I was in the wrong place when I needed an escape.

  “About us, Kace. About what you’re going to do to me.”

  He turns me to face him, his expression pure possession, his eyes meeting mine. And I could swim forever in the sea of his blue eyes, as every wave breaking around me only sends me crashing right back to him. “What am I going to do to you?” he asks as if he needs to know I can say it as if he needs to know I want this.

  I wet my parched lips and say, “Spank me.”

  “And do you want me to spank you?” The question is a mixed challenge and a raw seduction.

  Suddenly, I’m drowning in my own confusing desire, and my lashes lower, heat rushing to my cheeks when his hand cups my face and he tilts his gaze back to his. “Do you,” he says, enunciating the words, “want me to spank you?”

  “I want to get out of my head. I want to escape. I want you.”

  His eyes darkens. “That’s not an answer.”

  The waves are breaking again and when I might drown, I don’t. I really do crash right back into him. “Yes.”

  “Yes? Yes what, Aria?”

  “I want you to spank me.”

  His eye light with approval and that approval splays over me like blessed sunshine in the chilly snowfall. I don’t know why his approval arouses or pleases me, I don’t know what that says about me, or him for that matter, but there is no denying the burn in my belly. There is no denying his control, and my submission sends a thrill through me like no other. His hands fit my waist, possessiveness in his touch, a branding that feels right when with anyone else it would be wrong. His cheek presses to my cheek, the roughness of his newly formed stubble an erotic pinch on my sensitive skin. “Who’s in control?”

  “I am,” I say, and I mean it. This is about choice. I know that when I say yes or no to with Kace, he will listen. “And right now, for just a little bit, I don’t want it,” I add, and for once in my life, I mean it. “Take it,” I add softly. “It’s yours.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Approval once again etches Kace’s handsome face while amber heat lights his blue-eyed stare. I am aroused by his demands. I don’t know this part of me, but I do hunger to understand.

  He presses my hands over my head. “Don’t move them or I’ll stop what I’m doing and spank you now. Understand?”

  My nipples pucker and I give him a breathy, “Yes.”

  He studies me, watches me, searches for something, I don’t know what, but seconds tick by eternally until his grip slowly eases. His fingers trail down my arms, a featherlight touch leaving goosebumps skittering about my skin, before falling away. I feel their absence like a punishment, my body aching, my need for his touch already a living, breathing thing. He leans in, hot breath fanning my neck and I am weak, so very weak. I reach for him. He captures my hands and presses them back over my head, his eyes meeting mine. “I don’t think you really understand at all.” His voice is not gentle. It’s a reprimand.

  I bristle despite the tingling of my limbs. “I think you’ve made your point quite well.”

  He clearly doesn’t concur as he says, “Next time, I’ll turn you around, spank you and not even fuck you after.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

>   His lips, those punishing, delicious lips, quirk ever so slightly. “Try me, baby. Unless you want to quit. Stop. Say no.”

  The heady mix of alcohol and man feeds my courage while his hand that grips my wrists remains my shackle. “I don’t want to stop,” I dare.

  “No?” he challenges.

  My chin lifts defiantly. “No.”

  He studies me, long and probing, and I’m quite certain he’s punishing me for touching him, because outside of my shackled wrists, he’s not touching me. Finally, the fingers of his free hand almost lazily tease one nipple, little darts of sensations spiking my nipples until they are hard knots, and tingling, delicious sensations ripple through me. My lashes lower and his hand goes to my jaw, lifting my gaze to his. He kisses me, his teeth scraping my bottom lip, and I can taste his hunger, I can taste his demand. He wants this, too. He needs it and I’m reminded of the reasons he might need control right now, namely Alexander and Gio, who are two of a kind—two men who would break us apart. Two men who would take from him and blame him for their sins.

  “I’m not going to make love to you, Aria,” he says. “That’s for later. Now, I’m going to fuck you.” My sex clenches with those bold words. He’s going to fuck me. Yes, please, I think. Fuck me. I never let myself just fuck to fuck.

  “Unless I touch you too soon?”

  “Exactly. But first,” he promises, “I want you on my tongue, but I’m not going to let you come.”

  “That doesn’t sound fair.”

  “I didn’t promise to be fair.” His fingers caress my clit and I pant out a breath. Already, he’s exploring the wet heat of my sex, stealing my ability to think.

  “You can tell me no at any time, and I won’t spank you. I’ll stop everything I’m doing.”

  Don’t stop is all I can think and he doesn’t.

  His hand slides away from my wrists, and he seems to wait for me, to gauge my compliance and when he seems certain he has it, at least for now, he rewards me. He slips two fingers inside me, his thumb flicking my clit, and I’m not thinking of the spanking. I’m thinking of him inside me.

 

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