Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy (Book 1))

by Palmer, Dee

  His last text reminds me his driver will pick me up at six. He also suggests for the third time I get some rest, I can’t believe in the space of a weekend I’ve gone from virgin to nymphomaniac. I feel like the sexual equivalent of his supercar nought to insatiable in three point zero days. I head upstairs to rest, read and I really need to catch up with Sofia. I notice the small flashing green then red lights in the corner of each room straight away. I don’t have a television so anything electrical would stand out like a sore thumb. I run back downstairs and knock on Anthony Jr’s office door.

  “Hey sweetheart, how was lunch?” He grins widely.

  “Are you fishing for compliments or information?” I narrow my eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Lunch was fine, Marco kept the moves at bay . . . I just wanted to check something, the flashing lights in my apartment, they’re just motion detectors right, no cameras? I don’t want to find my super exciting life has gone viral?” Anthony laughs and slaps me on the shoulder.

  “That would have to be the dullest YouTube ever sweetheart.” I can see full-on hysterics bubbling beneath his laugh but he holds off to add, “no cameras, just sensors.” I must look relieved when he adds. “Just a safety thing, Ok?”

  “Ok, thanks.” I head back up to my new ‘super safe’ apartment.

  Having smoothed things over with Sofia, I’m a bad friend for leaving her to worry but she was placated when I told her all the details of my weekend with Daniel. She has a penchant for the dramatic and is a complete romantic so has read way too much into the ‘rescue in the rain’ incident. Her world view is a little rose tinted and it’s wonderful for her to have found her perfect match in Paul but I am much more likely to think horse when I hear hooves. Sofia hears unicorns. I have washed as best I can and I am thankful that Sofia takes me for regular waxing treatments because I would easily sever an artery trying to shave my legs balancing with one leg high in the sink. I am now in a panic, what underwear? I know what’s on the agenda tonight and I would love to wear something sexy and alluring or even pretty would be good. I can’t wear any of the lingerie I have been sent. Another box came today, cream silk and lace bra and panties, that set would be perfect. But it would feel wrong to wear underwear bought by one man, to wear to fuck another. It feels like cheating and I know how he feels about lying, what if he asked? Ok that’s ridiculous, but it would still feel wrong; plain Jane it is then.

  I wish I had asked a few more questions about tonight because now I’m getting nervous. He said dinner; did he mean dinner at his apartment? Is he going to cook or is he taking me out? Where would he take me? What should I wear? I look in my wardrobe and eighty percent of what is hanging belongs to Sofia. She comes over hauling armfuls of clothes that she is bored with. Some of it with tags and she switches my wardrobe around so it is a constantly changing entity and full of surprises. I find a thin jersey wrap around dress in black, a crop leather jacket and my knee high boots. The evenings are chilly now so I take a scarf too. I have straightened my hair and put a little lip gloss on but I don’t want Daniels driver ringing the bell, so I go to wait outside the back door just before six. I see the sleek Bentley pull around the corner and not that this is a rare sight in Knightsbridge but the fact that my tummy starts to churn means I know this is Daniels’ car. The car pulls to a gradual stop and with impeccable timing; it is then that the kitchen porters decide to take their cigarette break.

  “Whoa Bets is that sweet ride for you?” Ricky, one of the youngest porters can’t hide the awe in his voice. “Hey Joe!” He yells inside gaining the attention of the remaining chefs and waiting staff, all of which scramble outside. I close my eyes and curse myself, why didn’t I just walk? “Looks like Bets has bagged herself a rich dude!” He laughs and Joe slaps the back of his head. My shoulders slump and I return a tight smile.

  “No Ricky, I’m not interested in his money . . . it’s his fucking enormous cock I’m interested in. Not that you’d know much about that, now if you don’t mind my ride is waiting?” I wink at Joe and throw myself arse first in to the back of the car, snapping my knees together as I do to make sure I don’t flash the audience, that are now standing with their mouths slightly open.

  “Good to know.” Daniels deep voice makes me jump, I didn’t see him in the darkened interior.

  “Oh God, I’m sorry about that, it’s just the guys, well, it’s what anyone would think anyway so I thought I’d put them straight. Really I wasn’t thinking, I should’ve just walked to your place, it’s not like it’s far.” I start to mumble and I can feel my face heat.

  “But I wanted to collect you.” He is quiet for a little while before he adds. “So the only reason you would be with me is because of my money?”

  “What? No!” I laugh but he looks deadly serious. “No Daniel, you can’t possibly think that. You do have mirrors don’t you? It’s just that we are not exactly on a level playing field are we? You’re well . . .” I try to swallow the dryness from my throat. “Daniel, you’re gorgeous, I mean seriously hot as hell and I wasn’t joking about your cock.” I can’t help bite my lips together. “But you’re seriously wealthy too and although I don’t care, no one in their right mind is going to believe me. Just like anyone would think that your interest in me is either as a charity case or purely about sex. Personally I think it’s about the charity but then I don’t know anything about you, and that is how it should be, this,” I wiggle my finger between the two of us again, “is off the charts sexy and intense but it’s just a bit of fun.” I nudge him playfully with a wide grin spread across my face.

  “Bethany.” He reaches for my hand, the familiar spark of heat ignites inside. “I think we need to qualify what constitutes fun because I think our definitions are poles apart.” I shrug and whisper as I turn to the window.

  “Whatever.” I feel the seat dip and he leans over and pulls me on to his lap, one arm is curled around my waist and other hand is holding my chin, millimetres from his face. His breath warm, his eyes dark and serious.

  “So I’m a philanthropist is that right? That is why I want you?” He tucks my hairs behind my ear.

  “I have no idea why you want me and I don’t care; it’s just fun Daniel.” I’m getting aggravated and so is he. He grinds his teeth.

  “Bethany you are-” I interrupt and by the look on his face I am not sure this happens to him much.

  “-Daniel.” I narrow my eyes and repeat slowly “I. don’t. care. It’s. just. fun!”

  “Dammit Bethany! You think this is fun, feeling like this is normal?” His voice is a loud rumble and his jaw ticks.

  “I have no idea what normal is and yes it is fun.” My voice wobbles, “it has to be.” I blink back the tears I can feel rising but have to close my eyes tight to hold them back. I try to move from his lap but he strengthens his hold waiting for me to open my eyes again. I don’t understand why he is pushing this but he has the same intensity in his eyes when I open mine. “Look Daniel.” I don’t know how to explain this, I never have had to explain this, “it’s one of ‘my things,’ another ‘one of my things’ which you can also deduce is my way of surviving.” I push with more strength and manage to sit back on the car seat. I have trouble thinking when his body generates such turmoil in mine. “Although, this one actually takes care of two of ‘my things’; 1. Everyone leaves and 2. Everything is temporary. So it’s never going to be anything else and if that doesn’t work for you, that’s fine too! We can stop the car and end it here.” I lift my chin to punctuate my determination at this point.

  “God you’re infuriating!” His tone filled with fury. “How can you deny this, how can you pretend to be so indifferent, I fucking know you’re not indifferent. I can feel you Bethany, every pulse, every increase in your heart beat. I feel you respond to me, react to me, need me.” He has closed the distance again and the heat between us is stifling. I can’t think, “Why don’t you trust this, why don’t you trust me? Why can’t you be honest with yourself?”

&
nbsp; “Daniel.” I say softly. “I do trust you, I just don’t trust myself and honestly; for the first time in my life I don’t know what to do and I’m scared shitless.” I let out a nervous laugh which actually lightens this intense mood. He covers my mouth with his soft full lips sucking in my bottom lips and grazing it over his teeth. He presses into me and dips his tongue inviting mine to join his sensual dance; he tastes divine, sweet mint and erotica. I grab at the lapels of his jacket tightly fisting the material, I need to feel his weight on me. I need the release I know he can give me. He builds this desire so easily, so quickly it makes my head spin. I groan my response as he pulls back, his eyes are warm pools of desire and lust, matching my thoughts precisely.

  “You know that’s fucked up right? You’re an intelligent woman and you have to know that’s fucked up?” He laughs and I stiffen a little as he dismisses my insecurities with his cocky smile. “Don’t get all defensive, I understand, well I mostly understand, but we can work with that. I have a plan.” His wicked smile is infectious and he screws a firm kiss into my hair and exits the car, which has been parked a while.

  DANIEL HAS PLACED me on a stool in the kitchen next to the large marble island while he grabs two wine glasses.

  “Wine?” He tips the empty glasses toward me.

  “Definitely.” I grimace at my over enthusiasm for liquid courage.

  “You wound me; do you really need to be drunk to spend an evening with me?” He slaps his free hand playfully against his firm chest and supposedly injured heart.

  “Ha, that’s funny! The drink is for my nerves, you have me on edge in more than one way. So yes I can definitely use a drink to help me survive an evening with you Mr Stone.”

  “Red of white?” He smiles softly.

  “What are we eating?” I inhale deeply.

  “Sea Bass.” His confident reply has me surprised.

  “You are cooking?” I raise a teasing brow. I know he’s not, there is not a cooking smell to be sniffed, as yet.

  “No Miss Thorne, I’m ordering in, my housekeeper in on holiday for two weeks and whereas, if you were staying I would have taken you out to eat. You have insisted on this ridiculous curfew; so I have a very limited time with which to enjoy you. So we are eating here and I am ordering Sea Bass, Thai Sea Bass.” He is so sure of himself it is easy to be seduced by his confidence and even more impossible to resist his demands.

  “Yum, white wine then, please.” He pours a large glass of Pinot Gris and I take two substantial fortifying sips, its crisp and fresh and goes down far too easily. “Would you like me to set the table, put my talents to use?” I offer mostly for something to distract my nerves.

  “No. Those aren’t the talents I want to exploit Miss Thorne.” He holds my gaze with implicit intent. “There are two things we need to address first.” He stands in front of me, takes my glass and places it on the island. He lifts me from my stool as if I am no weight at all and strides out of the kitchen. “First, I am going to make love to you like I would have if you had been honest with me on Saturday,” I gasp and he grins and whispers wickedly in my ear, “and second we are going the have a luxurious bath together where we will explore the nature of all this fun we are going to have.” We’ve entered the largest bedroom suite I have ever seen. The floor to ceiling glass wall along two sides gives an unobstructed endless view over London, which is now aglow with evening lights. He carries me over to the corner where the two windows meet and stands me in front of a sumptuous looking chaise. “And then I’ll feed you.” He states as a matter of fact.

  The lights in the room are low, soft and warm but I shiver all the same. He stands close to my back but doesn’t touch me and I quiver with anticipation. He leans so I can feel his warm breath against my neck and I know his lips are suspended just above my skin. My skin flushes with a heat and instant rush of prickles. He is yet to touch me and I’m burning up. I tilt my neck, a blatant show of submission as I open my vulnerable neck to him. He groans approval but still doesn’t touch me.

  “You know.” My attempt at a casual tone has failed with the high pitched squeak mid-sentence. “My first time was pretty amazing, you really don’t need a do-over.” I press my thighs together to quell the burgeoning ache and get some release. This may well have been extra amazing if it was the first time but since I now know exactly how high the heights of ecstasy this man can take me to; this tortuously slow pace is insufferable.

  “Only pretty amazing? Had you said ‘mind blowing’ or ‘out of this world’ even, I might forgo the ‘do-over’ but since neither expression passed those beautiful lips I’m afraid I am going to have to go all out, Miss Thorne. I’m nothing if I’m not a perfectionist!” I can feel his wicked smile as his lips curl closer to my neck. “Bethany, I am going to drive you insane, I am going to make you come so many ways, so many times and you’re going to scream my name so fucking loud you won’t be able to speak after. Which will be a shame because you’re going to be begging me to stop and baby, I won’t be able to hear you.” He plants the softest kiss on my neck and is rewarded with an uncontrollable full body shudder.

  He wraps his strong arms around my waist and unties the bow that holds my dress together, it falls open. He puts his large hot hands flat against my stomach and presses my body back against his. There is no mistaking, he is as turned on as I am; the thought makes me moan and I grind a little into his hardness. He slides his hands up and cups my aching breasts over my bra, pinching and rolling the hard nubs between his thumbs and forefingers, just to the point of pain. Instant sparks shoot straight to my core and I start to draw rapid breaths, trying to keep up with my pounding heart. “You’re so fucking perfect Bethany and you have no fucking idea what you do to me.” He mumbles in to my neck as he drags his teeth along my skin leaving a searing mark in its wake. He moves his hand to slip my dress from my shoulders and lets it fall to the floor; he again scoops me up in his arms and strides toward the bed and carefully lays me down. He has a frown and it looks like he has changed his mind.

  “I know you take instruction very well but I think this first time I want to worship your body vanilla style.” His smile is stunning, he has a strong jaw and with defined cheekbones; and his crystal eyes sparkle with lust and desire. He could keep me as a sex slave for all the kink he could dream of at this moment in time but the decadent way he suggests vanilla is pure sin. I decide to keep my first thought to myself. He kneels on the bed and takes my feet in his lap, he starts to massage and stroke. He varies the pressure as he makes his way up my legs, using his thumb to draw out long strokes easing tension from my muscles. I close my eyes and release a heavenly sigh. He gives a light laugh but continues is ministration up my legs. He has to kneel up and his muscled thighs flex as they encase mine, trapping me, not that I would want to be anywhere but right here.

  He lightly traces his fingers along the outline of my panties but moves on to my tummy. He slides his hands and grips my waist as he bends over and kisses a path from my belly button to the top of my panties where he releases a burst of warm breath. He then kisses a trail all the way up to my throat, avoiding my aching, heavy breasts. My fingers twitch and I start to raise my hand. He looks up to my eyes which are now open. “I said I wasn’t going to give you instruction but that doesn’t mean I don’t want this my way.” His calm tone leaves no chance of misunderstanding his meaning and I lay my hand back flat against the bed. Is it too early to start screaming his name? He swoops back to my neck and sucks hard pulling my tender skin into his mouth, marking me, releasing a scorching heat deep inside and I buck a little but manage to still myself before he stops again. He hovers above me holding his weight from my body. “Can you turn over Bethany, I’d like to work on your back but I can’t promise I’ll be quite so restrained when I reach that glorious arse of yours.” I wiggle and flip on to my front, sad that I can’t kiss his lips from here. He unclips my bra and shuffles down and starts to pull my panties down. “What the fuck is this?” He sounds really angry
and I jump and try to crane my neck around to see why. “Who did this to you?” It usually takes a few days for the bruising to show, especially on my butt and I sag back into the soft covers and laugh. “It’s not fucking funny Bethany, who hurt you?” His harsh tone is filled with misplaced concern.

  “I did, well me, Marco and the mat, it’s from my Krav class. It can be brutal and I bruise like a peach, it’s nothing, always looks worse than it is.” I wiggle my bottom to indicate just how fine I am.

  “Marco is responsible?” He sits back on his ankles and crosses his tanned arms, this highlights the defined muscle of his biceps and I get distracted by the tempting sight. “Bethany!” He barks, his is so not happy about this, talk about a mood changer.

  “Yes Marco is responsible for dragging me to self-defence classes every week; so that if I were ever to be attacked I could fight them off with more than just my bad language.” I lift myself on to my elbows to half twist round so I can challenge his angry stare. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Yes . . . no, not the classes no, just you getting hurt and I would very much like it if you didn’t talk about getting attacked.” His deep frown mars his perfect face. It’s kind of sweet though.

  “Not another word.” I smile and make to lock my lips and throw the key but before I do I add with an arched brow. “You were definitely in the middle of something more interesting than this conversation?” I throw the invisible key and flop back down slightly arching my hips to lift my bottom. He growls but his hands begin to slowly caress my bottom in smooth circles. I know he is tracing the bruises because I can hear his teeth grind and he is being extremely tentative. He begins again starting at my feet, repeating the moves he made on my front. By the time he reaches my neck my whole body is thrumming with desire. My teeth are clenched, he must be able to feel the tension as I fight my body’s’ desire to writhe with pleasure and come, I just need to come. I think if he so much as put the tiniest pressure on my clit right now I would explode.