When his gaze went dark, I swallowed thickly. “What if I wanted that someone to be the owner of said brothel?”
Oh, boy.
I laughed, the notes shaky with nerves.
“You’re not like anyone else, are you?” The grin he wore was genuine and somewhat surprised.
I shook my head. “And that’s a secret you should keep to yourself.” Something about him awakened my boldness. He wasn’t permanent. I was safe in the knowledge I could leave whenever I wanted.
He tilted his head a little to the side. “Tell me more.”
It was as if I were under a spotlight. Blinded. Heart thrumming three times its normal rate.
“I… um… well, I used to work in accounting. Numbers were my thing. I graduated at the top of my class. Picked as most likely to succeed. Now, I’m taking classes for interior design in hopes to find something new to do with my time.”
Wearing his confidence, he licked his lips. “You know this isn’t a business interview.”
“You sure?” I tossed back.
He was smirking. “You know, you’re like a lioness in kitten’s clothing.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but then a waiter appeared, placing plates of salad in front of us. “Good evening, madam, sir. This is our New England lobster and black truffle salad, tossed in our house dressing. Enjoy.”
I picked up my fork as Cole nodded. “Thank you, Brian.”
Brian hurried off. Another waiter approached with two bottles of wine, asking which we’d like to sample first.
“We’ll take that one, Mark,” Cole said, pointing to the bottle on the right. “And tell Frank the salad looks amazing.”
Mark filled our glasses, and then headed back inside.
“You know all their names?”
“Of course,” Cole said, seeming surprised. “I value every one of my employees.”
I stared down at the large chunks of lobster, not able to recall the last time I had lobster. Jack hated seafood.
“You’re not allergic, are you?” Cole asked, noticing my hesitation.
“No.” Taking a bite, I closed my eyes. Heaven. I’d never tasted lobster so sweet and buttery.
“Dinner is the only meal I splurge on.”
I wiped at my mouth. “This is heavenly.”
We ate in silence. It was thick. Heavy. Noticeable. It made me squirm until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Why did you invite me here?” I asked after Brian took our empty plates away, unable to keep my thoughts in order. “I thought for sure once you knew who I was, it would be an off-limit thing.”
He hesitated, seeming to debate his answer. “The truth is,” he said, “I’m not sure why. I’ll admit, you intrigue me, but when it comes to women, I like to keep things short and simple. It never exceeds past one night. It’s less messy that way.”
Mark set another plate in front of us, rattling off the name of the dish. His words didn’t penetrate through the humming in my veins. The erratic beating of my heart.
Once Mark was gone, I asked, “Will this be a one-night thing?”
My pulse was tripping over itself.
“Shouldn’t it be?”
I could barely keep it together. I was sure he could see my heart banging away in my throat. “What about… an arrangement?” I posed, this time meeting his eyes. Breath lodged in my chest.
He observed me for a moment. “I’ve never had one. I’ve been with married women before, but none who were in an open marriage, and definitely not one of my employee’s wives.” He reached for my hand. “Which is why I don’t think this is a good idea.”
My skin shriveled beneath him, a strange, inky feeling unfurling in my veins.
“But… with you, I find myself in quite the quandary,” he added, the warmth returning.
“Why?”
When his steel gaze met mine, I felt the breath rip from my lungs. “I’m a businessman, Corrine. I can spot a diamond in the rough from miles away. I like you. It’s obvious you’re caged in. The way you hold yourself… it’s different. I’m willing to break a few of my personal rules to give it a try.”
I swallowed. My appetite changed for something else. For… someone else. There was something awakening within my bones, a suppressed, hulking feeling scratching to break free from the prison of my skin.
“I do have to ask though… Why are you going through with the open marriage? It doesn’t fit you.”
“How do you know what fits me?”
The challenge in his eyes zapped through my brittle façade, but I refused to back down.
He waited for me to answer.
“Because I’ve never lived for myself,” I admitted. “I’m thirty-two, and I’m not getting any younger. The world keeps spinning around me whether I like it or not. Jack is going to either cheat or be open. Deep down, I want to try this with you. I’m sick of ignoring that part of myself.”
“What part?”
“The selfish part.”
Chapter 7
Corinne
I found talking to Cole easier than I expected. Maybe because of how we started out, or maybe because he had nothing to hide, but we fell into conversations like lovers fell into bed. With passion and ease. Intrigue and desire.
When dinner was finished and he had excused the staff, we sat on his leather couch in front of the fireplace framed in rich shades of wood, both flushed from the bottle of wine we’d shared, staring at the city below us. Delicate, sweet notes played on a guitar, swirling around us. We shared small, curious touches. The brush of a finger here. The exchange of a glance there.
The orange glow of the flickering flames deepened the tan to his skin. In soft lighting, he seemed more relaxed. More approachable. If someone would have asked me months ago if I ever thought I’d find myself sitting across from a man who seemed to be created by the Gods, I would have laughed.
“So… why are you a bachelor?” I had a feeling about him. He was more than what he wanted to be perceived as. There was an integrity to him that could be easily overlooked. It was in the way he treated his staff. The kind smiles he shared. The gentle appreciation in his thank-yous.
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with something like experience. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that. “Timing. Career. Not meeting the right person.”
His arm rested on the back of the couch, the tips of his thick fingers casually tracing the curve of my shoulder.
“Have you… have been with many?” I gulped. “Women?”
His chuckle was decadent, like warmed chocolate. “I suppose. Have you?”
My eyebrow dipped. “With women?” I giggled. “No.” My laughter deepened a second later when I realized he meant men. “Sorry. You meant—”
He moved a hair behind my ear. Scooted a tinge closer. “There you go with the sorrys.”
I cleared my throat. “Jack… he was my first.”
His eyebrow hitched up.
I felt the energy in the air lift its head. Waiting. Watching. “You said you never exceed one night with women. Why?”
He rocked his head back and forth in thought, the scent of his cologne stirring something deep in my belly. “Because when it extends past… feelings occur. They get too invested. So I pick those who treat a one-night stand like a Sunday diet cheat day.”
I ran a bold finger down his thigh. “I like ice cream.”
“You do?” His voice was deep and husky.
“Yes,” I said, continuing my trail over his other thigh. “I actually have a personal relationship with chocolate. Long term.”
He chuckled again, and I realized I was beginning to like the sound. To know that I elicited it. It’d been so long since I made someone laugh. Since I sat in the company of a man whose eyes were slowly undressing me.
“You’re funny.” He brushed a finger over the swell of my cheek.
“And you’re handsome.”
His finger glided down my neck, leaving a fire in its wake. My heartbeat tripped a
t the unfamiliar touch. The newness from the pressure of his finger. The thrill from the unknown.
I shut my eyes. Allowed him to continue his exploration that swooped along my collarbone. He was tracing my outline, inch by scorching inch.
My bones were shaking, skin shuddering.
“How do you like to be fucked?”
I tensed at the question, which warranted a deep, sultry chuckle.
“Every kind of way.” The air was electric again. Pulsing as my heart pumped honeyed desire through my veins.
He pushed the strap of my dress down my shoulder, slowly, achingly, not letting any part of his fingers leave my skin. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
I was shaking again. Melting under his touch. My brain was a mess of erratic thoughts…each warring with the other to be heard. I was driving purely on the heat spreading between my legs, letting the sensory overload make my decisions for me.
He pulled me closer to him, hand sliding beneath my dress. The rough side of his palm dragged against the sensitive flesh of my thigh. He was toying with me, taking his time, until his fingers traced the outline of my lace panties.
“You’re on fire,” he said, his lips a whisper over the edges of my ear. He pressed his fingers against my opening. “And so very wet. Good girl.”
He began slow circles, applying just the right amount of pressure, my nerves building with a familiar charge. Panic flapped against my ribs.
“I don’t know… I don’t know if I…”
He didn’t remove his hand.
“This is wrong, isn’t it? I shouldn’t…”
I couldn’t… was the actual truth. Couldn’t make him stop. Selfishly, I didn’t want him to. I needed the release. It had been so long…
“Just let me do this…” he said, slipping one finger inside me. “Let me do this for you, and then you can decide.”
I was in a fever, nodding, giving myself over as he eased another finger inside, his thumb working glorious circles over my clit. His touch was so warm. My hips lifting almost without my permission, I pushed against him, asking for more.
“You smell like roses,” he said, his lips brushing along my chin. With his other hand, he lowered my dress until my breasts were exposed. A husky groan spilled past his lips before he sucked my nipple into his mouth.
That was all it took. I was falling past the edge, grinding against his hand as colors burst inside of me like fireworks.
“Oh my God,” I said, body shuddering next to his. Breath ragged and lazy.
“Open your mouth.”
I did. I was his. Spent. Awoken. Ready.
He stuck his thumb in, smoothing it over my tongue, and then pulled it out, settling his lips over mine. His kiss was warm. He took his time, slow, until we were just tasting each other. Sultry licks. Soft nibbles.
I coasted my hand higher up his thigh, feeling the bulge straining against his pants. Rubbed my hand up and down the long length, a small smile hidden at the corner of my lips when a masculine moan was released against my lips.
When I yanked his shirt up, he seemed to grow in front of me, his muscles expanding, filling the large room. I was trembling, emotions bordering on frantic and excited, as he pulled me across his lap, making me straddle him.
I laughed with a madness, covering my mouth with the back of my hand as my nerves went haywire. I was about to do this. Let another man fuck me. I felt like I was losing my mind. My grip.
His smile was gentle, sincere as he chuckled, pulling my hand away from my mouth. Kissing the back of it. Framing my face with his hands. “Don’t be scared,” he said, his thumb rubbing my cheek. “It’s only fucking.”
I nodded, losing myself in those rich blue eyes.
“Let’s take it slow,” he instructed, my dress already bunched around my waist.
I nodded again, afraid to speak. He traced the outline of my breasts. I followed his lead, trailing fingers over the swells of his chest. Light touches. Small kisses.
Eventually, I melted into him. Into the moment, a fire brewing deep within as the touches increased. Explored further. I liked the way he cupped my breasts. The way he licked my nipples. It was driving me crazy, rekindling the flames within me.
He lifted his hips, pulling out a condom from his pocket, placing it on the couch beside us. It was a question. One I had the power to answer.
I picked it up. Opened it with trembling hands. Laughed again as I leaned back so he could unbuckle his pants to get them down.
He was different from Jack. Had a slight curve to the tip. Long and thick. I slid the condom on, then lifted farther up, positioning it at my entrance. He moved my hand, holding it there, his other hand gripping my arm, pulling me closer until our lips were tangled up again.
He waited until I relaxed before slowly pushing inside me. Shivering from head to toe, I wrapped my arms around his neck, waiting, adjusting to him. His fingers dug into the flesh of my back, his breath ragged, skin trembling. Neither of us moved as we shook together from the force of the moment.
Then, with languid movements, we began to dance.
It started slow, sweet, careful, but as our eyes locked, something feral broke free and moved to the surface. The charge in the air shifted into frenzied movements. We couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t taste enough of each other.
He lifted me off him. Laid me down, moving between my thighs. Putting my hands over my head, he pinned them down as he thrust into me, his mouth feasting on my breasts.
I was so fucking hot for him. For the way he moved inside me, pushing against just the right spot until I pulsed around his dick, crying out, coming for the second time.
Everyone had an artist in them. Fucking was his medium.
As I came off the high, he flew into his, grinding against me as he groaned into my mouth. I inhaled the sound of his pleasure, hot and sweet. Felt his body relax against mine as he pulled out of me, causing one last shudder of pleasure to roll through me before he shifted his weight off me.
Feeling his heat from where he was wedged on his side between me and the cushions, I laid there for a moment, blinking at the ceiling, chest rising and falling unevenly. I had done that. Me. That had really just happened. It was all a blur. A blissful blur.
White noise pounding in my head, I scrambled up, a sense of shame slithering into the moment. I enjoyed that more than I should have. Hell, I could go for seconds. That was wrong. Panic knocked against the door to my heart.
“Will I see you again?” he asked, watching me as I moved. Lying there on the couch, sated and achingly beautiful.
I jerkily pulled my dress back on, gaze on the clock. There was still an hour until I needed to be home. Even though my answer was hesitant, I knew deep down he would. He would, because I wanted to see him just as much.
“Can I get back to you?” I asked, just to be safe.
He smirked. It was obvious he liked the chase. “Call me.”
I was home, freshly showered and in bed by eleven twenty-two. Staring at the doorway, wondering when Jack would arrive. Did he need every last second? The thought came and went, overpowered by the images of what I’d just done. Something I never thought I was capable of. A smile touched my lips. I trailed my fingers over them. Closing my eyes, I felt the pressure of his lips against my skin.
I never thought I could be that free. That open with someone else. It was dangerous territory, but I covered my truths with the rules we’d set in place. It was sex and nothing more. It was only that heated because it was my first time with another man. He liked taking what wasn’t his, and I liked being taken by someone who couldn’t have me. But the sweeter side to him…
The sound of the front door opening made me jump, and I glanced at the clock. Eleven fifty-nine.
I didn’t have the right to feel anger and resentment, especially after tonight, but I couldn’t help it. Did he have to wait until the last minute? Was she that worth it? My skin felt heavy. My blood was tar.
“Honey?” he called
from the kitchen. His voice was like a knife pressed against my chest.
Robotically, I climbed out of bed. Found him standing in front of the opened fridge, pulling out takeout leftovers.
He was hungry.
He was always hungry after sex.
My stomach boiled.
“Hey,” I said, sitting on a stool in front of the bar.
His smile was warm and welcoming when he spun around. A boyish smile that always melted my heart. Rising, I walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Pressed my face against his chest. This was my home. This was where I felt safe.
“Hey,” he said, quieter, setting down the carton so he could hug me back. It was the first real hug he’d given me in weeks. But there was something off about this hug… a sweet scent that shouldn’t be there. Heat burned my eyes. “You okay?”
I nodded against his chest.
He kissed my hair, running his fingers along my back. Why did it take fucking someone else to get this type of affection from him? I shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was home, and he was giving me this. I’d take what I could.
And just like that, he drove the knife clean through.
“Man, I’m starved. You?”
My insides sloshed against the waves of discontent when he pulled away. He was smirking, proud and pompous, as if sharing a laugh with a buddy over a beer.
“No,” I said through my teeth, trying to keep my anger under control. “I already ate.”
“You did?”
I nodded. He stared at me for a moment, expression somewhere between wanting to ask and wanting to brag.
I decided for him. “I’m exhausted. See you in the morning?”
“Yeah,” he said, clearly losing interest in me as he opened the microwave and stuck the container in.
Chapter 8
Cole
Being with Corinne felt like I had just fucked for the first time.
She had me twisted up in a way I’d never felt before, which confused me. Sex was my forte, but fucking her was like stealing candy. She tasted like sin. Felt like heaven. The innocence in her eyes pulled at something deep inside me. Made me want to slow down with her.
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