by Cynthia Eden
And spending the night with Blake? Another escape.
Only now everything seemed…different. She could still feel him inside of her. On her. As if the man had somehow marked her—
“You know we aren’t done.”
His voice, so low and deep and dark, came from above her. She glanced back and saw him at the top of the stairs. Watching her. His eyes glittered.
Her lips curved as she stared up at him. No, they weren’t done yet. Darkness still reigned, and Jess was discovering that she enjoyed the darkness.
With his gaze never leaving her, Blake stalked down the stairs. She backed up a bit, getting close to that giant, floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city.
Desire burned in Blake’s eyes.
Then he was right before her. His hands closed over her shoulders. Warm, strong hands, slightly callused at the fingertips. The man might be rich as sin, but he didn’t spend all his time working behind a desk.
His fingers slid down her body, pulling the sheet away from her. It hit the floor with a soft flutter of sound.
She started to turn toward him.
“No.” His growl stopped her. “Put your hands on the glass.”
But, as much as she liked the view, part of her was a little scared of it, too. They were up so high. “Blake, I just don’t—”
“Tonight, I want you to trust me.”
He didn’t realize just how hard it was for her to trust anyone.
“I’ll keep you safe, Jess, I swear it. I’ll only give you pleasure.”
A man had never sounded so tempting.
And her hands lifted. She put them against the glass. The pane was colder than she expected. Cold and smooth, and his warm hands were on her hips.
“I’m going to lift you up,” he said, still in the voice that seemed to reach deep inside of her. “I want you to keep your hands on the glass. Don’t worry about anything. I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
He lifted her up. Positioned her.
Drove deep into her.
She was still wet from her climax. Her flesh still so sensitive from the release she’d had. Releases.
He slid in deep, filling her completely. The feel of his thick length inside of her was so good. So amazingly, perfectly good.
Her toes skimmed the lush carpet. Her palms pressed harder against the glass. She stared out at the city, at all of those glittering lights.
The room behind her was dark. But… “Can anyone see me?”
He hadn’t moved inside of her. No, actually, he had—he’d gotten even bigger.
Her inner muscles clamped down on him, squeezing eagerly.
His fingers tightened around her hips. “Does it fucking matter?”
“Y-yes…” Because she’d never done any kind of exhibitionism in her life. She was the shy girl. The quiet one in the corner.
The girl who was—oh, wow, he’d just slid back and thrust even deeper—
Her eyes squeezed shut. His right hand came around the front of her body, and while he thrust, while he drove her absolutely insane with his cock, his fingers slid over her sex. Found her clit.
“No one can see you. Just me. I’m not the type to share.” His mouth was on her neck. Licking. Kissing. Biting?
Yes, she felt the sting of his teeth, and that bite turned her on even more.
“Remember that,” he ordered.
Uh, she wasn’t going to remember anything the guy was saying. Every muscle in her body had tensed, and if he’d just move his fingers—
He did.
Blake knew exactly how to use his hand. Oh, sweet sunshine, he did.
“Open your eyes,” he told her.
How had he known that she closed them?
But when her eyes flew open, she saw their reflection in that glass. His face was hard and tense, his body curving around hers.
He drove his cock into her again.
She came, shuddering, exploding, riding a wave of pleasure more intense than anything she’d ever felt before.
“You feel incredible.” He pressed a kiss to her neck. “I love it when you come around me.”
She couldn’t breathe. Or, she could, but her breath came in wild, panting heaves. Because he wasn’t done. He was still thrusting. Even harder than before.
But his hand lifted once more. Curled around her hips. He lifted her even higher.
Her hands slid across the pane of glass.
“Not done,” he growled. Then he was thrusting. Hard and frantically, driving deep into her core, and Jess loved it.
She came again, crying out his name just as he erupted within her.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. His arms closed around her and he pulled her back against his chest.
And she was pretty sure, that, yes, he’d definitely ruined her for other guys. Especially the only-do-it-missionary types back home.
Blake held her in his arms. Jess knew she was living a fantasy. That time on this dream was running out as the night ebbed.
But right then, she didn’t care. She’d take the dream, and she’d hold tight to it.
***
Dawn. The faint light spilled onto the bed, waking Jess from sleep. Her body ached, and as she cracked open her eyes, she saw that she was alone in the big bed. The sheets were rumpled, the pillow still bore the impression of Blake’s head, but he was gone.
Just for the night.
His words whispered through her mind as she sat up, pulling the sheet to her chest.
She’d never had a morning-after like this. Mostly because she didn’t have mornings-after. Jess swallowed as her gaze darted around the room.
Then she heard the rush of water, coming from the shower.
He hadn’t left. He was just showering.
Well, of course, the man hadn’t left. It was his suite. She was the one who was supposed to slip out. That was the way situations like this worked. Or at least, she thought they worked this way.
Still keeping the sheet around her, Jess slipped from the bed. Cautiously, she made her way to the den. Yep, there was her dress. In a puddle right near the window where they’d—
I will never forget last night.
She had a feeling that, for the rest of her life, she’d be comparing every lover that she had to Blake Landon. Sadly, she was afraid those lovers were going to come up short.
The guy had definitely succeeded in his mission.
Jess hurriedly pulled on the dress. Her panties—crap, where were they? Blake had taken those in the car. She glanced back toward the bedroom. Had the shower shut off?
Did she want to face Blake right then?
She wasn’t suave enough to handle this scene. Was she just supposed to shake his hand, maybe give him a hug, and tell him thanks for a good time?
An unbelievable good time.
No way. Jess scooped up her shoes and raced for the door. Their night was over, and it was time for her exit. The suite’s door shut behind her with a soft click.
So what if she was more fleeing than exiting? It wasn’t as if she and Blake were ever going to see each other again.
Her hand pounded onto the elevator’s button. “Come on, come on…”
Ding.
She couldn’t help it, when the elevator doors opened, she tensed. Thanks to last night’s encounter with the gunman, Jess didn’t think she’d ever view an elevator the same way.
But the elevator was empty. She jumped inside, pressed the button for her floor, and, when the doors closed, Jess let a relieved breath escape her lungs.
Blake Landon was an unforgettable man, and he’d just given her the best night of her life.
And to think…if her fiancé hadn’t dumped her three days ago, last night would have actually been her wedding night.
Instead, it had been something wicked, something wild…something perfect.
Something dangerous.
***
The bed was empty. Blake stood in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped arou
nd his hips and steam rising in the air around him. “Jess?” He raised his voice as he said her name.
There was no answer.
Eyes narrowing, he stalked forward. The bed was wrecked. He’d been insatiable for her last night. Once hadn’t been enough. Not for him.
Quickly, he searched the suite. The golden dress was gone. She’s gone.
The woman wasn’t supposed to try and run away from him.
You aren’t getting away, Jess.
He reached for the phone. Had the hotel manager on the line in an instant. “Jess Delaney,” he bit out her name. “I want to know her room number, and I want it now.” Because she’d slipped up the night before when she said this place was her hotel.
There was a sharp inhalation on the other end of the line, then Blake heard the fast and frantic sound of typing on a keyboard. After a tense moment, the manager told him, “J-Jess Delaney is here on her honeymoon.”
The fuck she was.
“She’s in one of our Honeymoon Suites, suite six-oh-eight, but she’s scheduled to check out this morning.”
He was about to crush the phone in his hand. “She doesn’t check out.”
“Sir?”
He wasn’t done with her, not yet. Jess wasn’t going to slip away from him without a word.
“Stop her when she tries to leave. Jess Delaney is not clear to exit the hotel.” Blake ended the call and fought the urge to crush the phone.
The honeymoon suite? Hell, the fuck, no.
Blake yanked on his clothes and rushed toward the door.
Chapter Three
Jess clutched her bag and rushed through the door at the hotel’s entrance. There was some kind of commotion going on at the front desk, so she hadn’t bothered stopping. They had her credit card number on file—they could bill her for anything she might owe. It wasn’t like she’d run up a tab at the place.
A line of taxis waited near the curb. A relieved sigh slipped from her as she headed toward them. A few more steps and she’d be—
“You need to come with me,” a hard voice ordered as an equally hard hand curled around her wrist.
Jess’s head jerked toward the stranger who’d grabbed her. “I think you’ve got the wrong woman.”
He smiled at her. He was handsome, blond, with a strong, hard build. And very, very cold blue eyes.
“No, I don’t. I saw you last night—”
Her face iced.
“I know you were with Landon, and now, you’re coming with me.”
She yanked against his hold. “Look, buddy, I don’t know who you are—”
He jabbed her. With a damn needle.
Jess screamed, but he shoved his mouth over hers and muffled the sound. She tried to fight him, but her body wasn’t responding to her commands. Her limbs were sluggish, heavy, and Jess felt herself begin to sag.
“Let’s just see,” the man whispered against her lips, “what the bastard will do to get you back.”
Nothing. She was nothing and no one to Blake Landon. She would have told the stranger that, but Jess couldn’t speak.
Her eyes closed.
Her dream had just turned into a nightmare.
***
“Sir…” The hotel manager, Alan Talbott, swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Ms. Delaney didn’t come to the front desk. She’s—”
Blake’s hands slammed down onto the marble counter. “Gone?”
A nervous nod was his answer.
She’d moved fast. Faster than he expected. As a rule, women didn’t run from his bed.
Jess wasn’t following the rules.
I’m the one who told her it was just for the night.
“The room was paid for in advance. One of the non-refundable deals with a travel agency out of Florida. Jess Delaney didn’t charge any incidentals during her stay. There was no need—”
“Was she alone?” Blake gritted out the words.
Alan blinked and his brown eyes widened behind the thin frames of his glasses.
“I-I—” Alan tapped frantically at the keyboard. “The reservation was made for a Mr. and Mrs. Burns, but it was, ah, altered to a Jess Delaney right before her arrival…”
That had better mean that Jess hadn’t become Mrs. Burns.
“Get her address. Send it to me.”
She was probably on her way to the airport. Heading back home. To Florida? Yeah, that fit. He’d caught the faintest whisper of a southern accent in her words.
When the desire was heavy in her voice, the accent was more pronounced. Sexy.
He turned away from the counter, then stilled.
What in the hell am I doing? Chasing after a woman who’d left him. That wasn’t his style.
She’d left, and that was it. He needed to move the hell on.
“Forget it, Talbott,” Blake muttered as he jerked a hand through his hair. “I don’t care.”
Liar, liar.
The truth was…Jess with her golden eyes and her hot passion…she’d gotten to him. Gotten past the hard surface that shielded him from others.
Maybe it was for the best that she was gone. One night, and he was already acting like a man possessed.
There were some women out there who could truly fuck with a man’s mind.
He suspected Jess Delaney was one of those women.
Blake headed for the elevator that would take him back up to his suite—a suite that still smelled of strawberries.
***
“Wake up!” The hard order was followed by a slap—right across her face.
Jess’s eyes flew open. Shock and pain rolled through her. She’d never been slapped in her life!
She tried to lunge toward the jerk who’d just inflicted the damage. A blond prick who—
Her arms were bound behind her. Thick rope locked them to the back of her wooden chair, keeping her helpless.
The blond smiled at her.
I remember him. He’d been the needle-happy psycho outside of her hotel.
“Now that I’ve got your attention…” The psycho murmured, “Call him.” He lifted a cell phone toward her. Not just any cell—her cell.
She blinked at the guy. The right side of her face throbbed. “C-call who?”
His blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Your lover, lady. Call your bastard of a lover.”
Blake. She licked her lips. “I don’t exactly have his number.” It was embarrassing to admit that she’d slept with a man, and she didn’t even have his number—embarrassing, even under these bizarre circumstances.
A muscle flexed along the blond’s jaw, and the guy lunged toward her. They were pretty much nose-to-nose, and she could clearly see the fury in his gaze. “You don’t want to fuck with me.”
“No, I don’t,” Jess said with absolute certainty because fucking with him was so not on her agenda. But then again, kidnapping hadn’t been on her to-do list either—and look where she was.
“Call him!” Spittle flew from his mouth.
“Give me his number!” Jess heard herself shouting right back to him. “And I will!”
“I saw you with him,” the man snarled at her.
Oh, crap, was he talking about the window of the hotel? The sex in the middle of the night? Because then she—
“You were in that elevator with him. You were going up to his private suite at the Landon Hotel. You helped to save the bastard.”
The fear in her belly blossomed even more. “You were the shooter.” The one who’d escaped before Blake’s men could apprehend him.
The fellow backed away, and she realized that his left shoulder appeared bulky. Maybe because there was a bandage under the fabric of his shirt?
His fingers slid over the phone’s screen. “You’re going to call Blake Landon—
“I don’t have the—”
“I’ll give you the damn number!”
Jess tensed.
“You’re going to call him, and you’re going to say that you need to see him. I’ll tell you a location, and you�
�ll get him to come and meet you.” He smirked at her. “Invite the guy over for sex, and I’m sure he’ll come running. He seemed hot enough for you in the bar last night.”
That was last night. “If Blake comes, wh-what are you going to do?”
“My business.” Flat.
Her gaze darted to the phone, then back to his face. “You’re going to kill him.” That was the only thing that made sense to her. The guy was using her as bait to lure in Blake. Once Blake took the bait, he’d be dead. “You tried to shoot him last night, and you’re going to try and kill him again.”
His eyes had narrowed to chips of blue ice. “If you don’t make the fucking call, I will slice your throat open and watch you bleed out—and I’ll be smiling even as you fight to live just a few more precious seconds.”
Nausea clenched her stomach. He’ll kill me after he kills Blake. “This was supposed to be my honeymoon,” Jess heard herself mumble. “I was going to get married here in Vegas. Then we were going to gamble and see magic shows.” Tears stung her eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to die here.”
The blond frowned at her. “You were marrying Landon? That’s even fucking better!”
“No.” She swallowed to try and ease the pain in her chest. The pain that came from knowing—I’m going to die. “I was going to marry a guy named Joe, but I caught him screwing around on me with my best friend. I came out to Vegas by myself. I wanted some excitement.”
His brows rose. “Looks like you found it.”
No. She’d found death. Because she was not going to let this crazy asshole use her. “I don’t think Sin City was for me.”
He leaned toward her. The blade of a knife pressed to her throat. “It’s time for the call.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. She hadn’t been able to blink that one away. “Yes,” she whispered. “It is…”
He put the phone to her ear. She heard the low sound of a ring. One. Two…
Maybe Blake wouldn’t even pick up. Maybe he wouldn’t answer her call at all.
Three rings.
If he didn’t pick up, then she didn’t have to make a choice.
His life.
“Hello?” Blake’s voice—slightly annoyed and rasping—drifted over the line.
Jess squeezed her eyes shut.