She wasn’t an expert on champagnes, either, but from the light, delicate taste she knew they hadn’t gone cheap on it, either. Paige had quickly deserted her to find Roger. Well, her advice had been to watch and listen. Not too hard when you’re a natural wall flower.
As she sipped her champagne, Mariel watched. She liked watching. It reminded her of sitting in her university’s library, using a few stolen moments to see who else was as wrapped up in their studies as she was. She’d liked looking at other students and professors and making up stories about them in her head.
It was easy to people-watch in the ballroom. Half of the faces she recognized from her political studies, and the other half were still wealthy and beaming. As she scanned the crowd, amusing herself with snarky commentary, she spotted a familiar silhouette.
It was Ellen, her spectacular frame dressed in elegant black silk. Mariel looked to the person she was speaking with, expecting Paige and maybe Roger. Instead it was a new man’s back. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew it wasn’t someone from the office. Their heads were leaned close, like lovers. Mariel would have assumed they were there together, but the look on Ellen’s face said otherwise. Her eyebrows were shoved together. She was speaking with her hands, too, waving them around like she was angry. Whoever the man she was speaking to was, he did not share her frustration. His shoulders shrugged and Ellen crumbled a little, looking defeated.
Curiosity overrode her desire to protect Ellen’s privacy. Mariel made her way over, hoping to overhear some of the discussion. Plus, if Ellen sounded as upset as she looked, Mariel thought she could run interference and earn some bonus points with the aid. She was Paige’s friend, first, but Mariel needed all the office support she could get.
“--You don’t know how hard it’s been!” Ellen’s voice was shrill and clipped.
“I don’t really care how hard it’s been. We have a deal. You know how I feel about deals, and how I feel about deal-breakers.” The man’s tone was cool, his speech cultured. Mariel thought she detected a hint of an Australian accent, but wasn’t sure. She wished she could see his face, but there was no way to move around to face him without making it obvious she was eavesdropping.
“You’ve made it obvious you don’t care. If you did you wouldn’t be trying so hard to ruin... but you’re right, we have a deal. The only reason I’m doing this--”
“I know why you’re doing it. And I know why you’re torn about it. Don’t be. We’re doing each other a favor. So be an obedient puppy and do as I say, Ellen. I don’t want to have this conversation again. If we do, there will be serious consequences.”
Ellen looked like she wanted nothing more than to spit in the guy’s face. Instead she muttered a “fine,” while the mysterious man walked away.
Frustrated by how vague their conversation had been, Mariel began to gather her courage to go comfort Ellen. Maybe she could learn what kind of favor he was so insistent on. It wasn’t her business, but Mariel knew what it was to be bullied by a man.
Before she could approach Ellen, though, Mariel’s skin prickled. She was being watched.
Familiar steel eyes met hers through the crowd, their blue piercing her. She gave a little gasp as the tall, cut figure stalked toward her, all menace in a well-tailored tux. Even his sneer was there, the edges of his lips curled up in amusement, and at her expense. It was deja-vous from the first time she had met Dallas, only this time he was wearing a bow tie.
When he got close enough (too close, always too close), she could hear his perfectly low gravel voice pitched over the hubbub around them.
“You, E.B., might be the last person I would have ever expected to see here. Doing a little extra credit, are we? Or you just couldn’t get enough of me after your peep show?”
An involuntary shiver ran down her spine.
“Paige had a spare ticket. I wanted to see some of D.C. You know, more than the closet you’ve put me in. And I wasn’t getting a peep show. You deserve what you get when you strip to your underwear with your office door wide open.”
She sounded much more sassy than she felt. Inside, Mariel was melting, a figure of wax too close to the fire that Dallas was. Why did he have to be so damnably sexy?
Lifting her glass to her lips, she drained the bubbling drink in one gulp. It took a lot for her to stand up to him in the office. Now that he was in front of her, immaculate and formal, she would need all the liquid courage she could get.
Her drink made him smile a little larger. “Thirsty, I see.” His voice, normally so cutting in the office, was less tight now. He sounded relaxed. She wondered if he was reeling her in and setting a trap. The prickling of her skin told her yes.
She nodded, nerves locking up her throat. Dallas’s eyes never left hers as he took her empty glass from her and held it out. Within seconds a caterer was there, removing the empty glass and placing a full one in its stead. Not once did Dallas look away.
Mariel wasn’t wearing panties under the dress—she hadn’t thought to bring appropriate underwear to Paige’s. Now she was regretting that decision as heat begin to grow between her legs.
Dallas handed her the fresh glass.
“Thank you,” she murmured, breaking off eye contact. She looked away, trying to look bored, but her skin flushed under his gaze and she knew that he knew.
She couldn’t decide if she was more turned on or embarrassed by him.
“You’re welcome. So tell me… what is an intern like you doing at a thousand-dollar-a-plate fundraiser event?”
Mariel had been taking a sip when he spoke and when she heard the worth of the tickets she choked a little. Concern flashed over Dallas’s face and he patted her back. When his hand hit her exposed skin, Mariel had to shut her eyes; she suddenly felt weak at his touch. Or maybe, she hoped, that was just the gulped champagne.
“Are you ok?”
“Y-yes,” she sputtered, feeling very much not ok. “Did you say one thousand?”
His hand pulled away from her and Mariel immediately felt its absence. “I did.”
She knew these fundraisers brought in families with money. Hell, the Taylors were billionaires, that realm of “rich” where there was more money than they probably knew what to do with. But a thousand dollars a plate? When she thought of what a thousand dollars would have meant to her mother when she was growing up…
“That’s obscene.”
He shrugged. “It goes to the campaign for Roger, and to causes he believes in. If it is for charity, is it really obscene?”
“Your wealth… It must be nice to be casual about a thousand dollars.”
His smile grew tight at that. “Why do I have to be casual about it? This is part of the job, Mariel.”
His shoulders had a defensive set and Mariel realized that she had offended him. Good, she thought. But she didn’t mean it. Her hands went up in submission. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. It is just staggering how a single amount can mean so many things to so many different people.”
For once, it seemed, Dallas didn’t have a sharp reply. His eyes narrowed like he was seeing her for the first time, and Mariel could feel her blush creep up her cheeks. She swallowed the rest of her champagne, shifting back and forth under his scrutiny.
“Dance with me.” It was a command-- like everything else he said to her.
She set her glass down and allowed him to lead her to the floor anyway, unwilling to say no and unable to walk away from what felt like a terrible decision.
* * * *
He was an incredible dancer. It didn’t surprise her, but she was grateful for how well he led. She hadn’t exactly grown up with dance classes. Dancing was not one of the skills she had ever counted on needing.
Dallas’s hand was firm on her lower back, steering her around the floor. He pressed her close, the heat from his body making the air hot and stuffy, her skin beginning to glow with a faint sheen of sweat. It wasn’t that they were moving too quickly; his nearness just made her head spin more than t
he effortless circles he turned her in.
“You’re good at this,” she whispered.
“I’m good at a lot of things.” There was something in that statement, some dark promise, that made her swoon. Her heart thudded hard as he pulled her closer. She felt him, then, pressed into her; he was just as aroused as she was. The knowledge made her dizzy.
Very dizzy.
What was happening between them?
“Are you okay?” He whispered in her ear. His hot breath raised goose bumps on her skin. This felt dangerous, being so close to a man who had treated her with nothing but contempt since day one. He had degraded her and tried to push her away, but now his erection was pressed into her belly and his rough voice was making her wet.
“I…” she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t finish, pressing her face into his strong chest. Two glasses of champagne and the escalating heat between them made her afraid to meet his gaze. Afraid to pull away. And afraid that if she didn’t pull away, right then, she would fall into bed with him.
Dallas made the decision for her. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
To her dismay, she agreed.
Chapter Six
They didn’t speak in the limousine to his place. They were too wrapped up in each other. It was Mariel’s first time in a limo and she didn’t even notice, because the minute the door had shut her in with Dallas, his lips pressed roughly to hers.
His kiss was unreal, the perfect pressure and control that didn’t leave her time to overthink, just react. His tongue swirled into her mouth as his fingertips traced up her waist, her ribs, to wrap themselves in her hair and crush her to him harder.
Eyes squeezed shut, she let him manipulate her, his body pressed so close to her his hands roaming her neck, her breasts. When he took a nipple between his fingers and squeezed she broke their kiss with a pained gasp. Slowly his thumb smoothed the stinging nub, bringing a rush of pleasure in the wake of pain.
“Why?” she managed to gasp as his mouth began to trail light kisses and bites down her neck. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the building tension there.
“Why what?” he mumbled, his tongue licking along her exposed collarbone.
“Why are you doing this? You don’t even like me.”
He lifted his head and came in for another kiss. She let him. He sucked her lower lip in and bit—hard. She jerked back in surprise, yet was more horrified at how, when she tasted a hint of blood, the roughness of his kiss created a rush of moisture between her legs.
“Don’t confuse my being hard on you with dislike, E.B. I like you,” his hand trailed down, gathering her dress up, exposing her thighs, “just fine. You are fun to control.”
The statement made her see red, despite how turned on she was. She tried to pull her dress back down but he gripped her wrists, stopping her. “You don’t control me. No one does.”
His low chuckle disarmed her. He parted her exposed legs and edged his fingers up, close to the source of her heat. Mariel let out a low groan, torn between wanting to slap him and wanting him inside of her.
She opened her legs further and then slapped him hard across the face. He growled and glared at her, menace and desire in his eyes. “No one controls me,” she whispered, but the lie sounded hollow in her ears.
He pinned both of her wrists together, his large hand able to grip both of them at once. “That was a dangerous move, E.B. You’ve just upped the ante. Are you sure you want to play that way with me?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. His other hand was between her legs again, stroking her. Two fingers pushed inside of her and she leaned back, moaning, spreading her legs further for him. Dallas slowly pushed into her, his fingertip curling until she was panting. As he increased his pace, she began to pump her hips, feeling a burning climax building quickly.
“Do you want to come?” He asked, the amusement in his voice grating her as much as it turned her on.
“Oh god, yes.” It wasn’t a lie. She was past the point of lying. “Please, make me come.”
His thumb began to circle her clit even as he kept tempo with his fingers and her orgasm exploded, shocking her with its intensity. He dragged it out, continuing to touch her as the ragged streaks of pleasure coursed through her.
Paige’s dress will need to be dry-cleaned.
It was the most ridiculous thought, but it made Mariel laugh as her body began to feel the soft, languid relaxation that comes from being well pleasured.
“Why are you laughing?” He sounded surprised and maybe a little angry. When Mariel met his eyes, she realized his feelings were hurt.
“I’m sorry, it has just been a really long time since I last came. It was more needed than I knew.”
The lines of frustration eased on his face and that sneer, oh that beautiful, mean sneer, came back. “I hope you don’t think we’re done.”
No, she didn’t. She knew she should be. She should direct the limo to drop her off at her apartment and walk out before she continued with this madness.
Mariel didn’t have a lot of experience with men. Particularly men like Dallas, cruel and scary. But the rush of doing something she knew was a terrible idea was intoxicating. If he could make her come with just his fingers, she knew she’d have to find out what the rest of him could do.
Paige had told her to listen for something interesting. Well, she’d failed at that.
But the way Dallas was looking at her now, burning and hungry, made her realize that maybe her night wasn’t going to be a complete bust.
* * * *
His apartment was more of a penthouse. A nice penthouse. No, not nice… stunning. Clean marble tiles, fresh cream-colored walls. Rich oriental rugs and leather furniture. Art, real art, hung in the hallways and over a wood burning fireplace in his living room. She thought she even recognized some of the pieces--they should be in a museum. The condo screamed money and class, the kind of mixed-textile and metal lines that were on the front of design magazines. Paige’s place had been nice, but this… this was luxury. Mariel was afraid to touch anything. Even the decorative vases were probably worth a month’s rent for her.
Dallas poured her a glass of red wine, which she accepted and proceeded to gulp down. He watched, a wry look in his eyes. Her skin heated as she realized how tacky she must appear to him, drinking quickly. It didn’t matter, she was too far out of her league to pretend.
He set his glass down, half-full. “Undress.”
“Are you always so bossy?”
“I’m not bossy, E.B. I just know what I want and how I want it. When you agreed to come with me, you were agreeing to that.” His own fingers were loosening his bow tie. Mariel wanted to rebel, truly, but like at the office, she found herself doing as he said. Slowly, she unzipped the gown and let it fall to the ground, leaving her in just her borrowed heels.
Her exposed nipples tightened under his gaze. His hair was disheveled from the car. He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the washboard abs she remembered from the office.
“Get on your knees.”
“Here?” She looked around the living room. It felt too open, leaving her vulnerable. She had not lived a wild life; for her, sex should be moved to the bedroom.
“Where else?”
Her gaze swept around and she worried her hands, looking for his room.
“Are you looking for my bedroom?”
He laughed, then, making her jump. She watched as he pulled his heavy, rigid cock from his pants. It stood straight and large, thick veins running up the side. “You have to earn the right to my bedroom, E.B. No woman has so far.”
She knew what he wanted, then. A challenge. It wasn’t something she had experience with, but his hard eyes and daring smile rubbed her the wrong way. Like she wanted to earn the right to work in the office, she wanted to prove to Dallas now that she was no meek little girl, easily cowed by his bad behavior.
She wanted to suck his cock until his smug grin was wiped from his face.
Mariel sauntered over in her heels and carefully dropped to her knees in front of him. Grasping the base of his cock in her hand, she didn’t hesitate to make a slow, circular sweep of her tongue over his tip.
His murmur of approval was all the encouragement she needed.
Mariel sucked him deep. She listened to the grunts, the groans he made to give her cues about speeds, varying her licks and hungry sucks. His dick was smooth velvet in her mouth, stretching her lips, but she hungered for his approval and loved every minute of it.
She felt him begin to twitch in her hand and instead of increasing her pace to tip him over the edge, she slowed down, dragging her tongue along the underside of his rigid cock. He shuddered and pushed her off roughly.
“Enough.”
She licked her lips while meeting his gaze. “Did I earn time in the bedroom?”
As soon as she said it, his face grew stormy. She felt a chill and a rush of liquid heat to her core; he terrified her and made her body electric at the same time.
“I don’t know. Try to get there.”
Mariel stood, teetering for a second in her heels. She began to saunter in the direction she assumed was his room, swaying her hips and briefly casting a coy look over her shoulder.
It was a mistake. His face was stony and his eyes were narrowed. Panic rose in her gorge and her steps faltered, then sped up. He paced after her, heavy and measured steps, his bare feet a thudding and ominous warning that he was coming for her.
It startled her, how hearing him come after her jump-started her fear, but also her intense need for him. This had been the way with them, hadn’t it? She would test him, poking, prodding. Defiant. And he would stalk after her, taking her down, trying to control her.
Which is precisely what he did.
Dallas was close behind, and while her instinct was to run from him, her legs turned to jelly. Mariel froze in fear, her heart thudding. His hands gripped her hips, hard, while he maneuvered her to the floor. She found herself on her elbows and knees in a flash, her slim hips in the air.
Her hunter thrust his fingers into her, finding her sopping and ready, and quickly reduced her to a quivering heap, her climax rocking her hard. Even as she started to come down, she tried to crawl from him, the rug burning and biting into her knees. There was no breather, no time to make it the last few feet to the doorway of his bedroom.
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