by Lynda Chance
Just inside the lobby, there was a large gilded frame set up on an easel, in which a beautiful scripted font announced the Calderon party’s rehearsal dinner. That name hit him; the memory of Maria laughing with the man over the telephone the night he’d met her hit him full force with a punch of jealousy that, had he allowed himself to acknowledge it, would have disturbed him.
Unannounced and uninvited, not giving a shit, he walked inside the ballroom. It was late, the catered-meal was over, and now people were scattered all over the room, talking in small groups, some of them swaying to the soft music that played in the background. The open bar in the corner was still manned by one of the hotel bartenders, but the atmosphere in the room told him that around now, the party was about to break up, the guests needing to prepare for the wedding that would undoubtedly take place the next day.
As he glanced around the room, it didn’t take five seconds before Garrett saw her.
And when he did, his ire rose up, almost swallowing him whole.
She held a glass of champagne in one hand, and a masculine arm was draped over her shoulders. A man was leaning over her with a smile as he laughed at something she said, and then he reached up with his other hand and touched her cheek. Touched her fucking cheek. The move put her within the circle of the unknown man’s arms, and Garrett felt a wave of fury rise up and inundate him.
As he stilled just inside the double doors and watched, it took everything he had not to go over there and physically rip the guy from her side. Breathing deeply, even from this distance, he could see the blush that stained her cheeks as she shook her head, her eyes filling with a teasing laughter.
Garrett took in the blush right before he noticed the dress she was wearing. His heartbeat flew off the charts as his cock hardened and jerked against his fly. The anger and jealousy running through his veins only made his erection more potent. There was nothing wrong with the dress, per se. On a mannequin, it would have been impressive. But on Maria, the dress took on a life of its own. The allure of sexiness that she’d been ramping up the last few days dimmed in comparison to the way the dress enhanced her figure. The garment was black, came a few inches above her knees, but it clung with a tenacity that seemed to make it show off every feminine attribute that she had.
And she had attributes in fucking spades.
At that moment, a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passed them, and the man she was with reached out and snagged only one flute, as Maria’s was still full. When the fucker let go of her with one hand to accomplish the feat, Garrett was only mildly appeased that she seemed to take the opportunity to gracefully dance out of the man’s reach. As she made the move, she glanced over the party with that precise eye for detail that told Garrett she was still on the job. As her gaze traveled around the room, he prepared for the moment when her eyes would meet his.
Expecting the punch to his system, he braced himself, feeling his lips flatten. When her gaze hit his, it was like a shot of electricity that almost knocked him over. Her allure only irritating him more, with a sharp tilt of his head, he motioned for her to join him, knowing damn good and well that if she refused, the outcome wouldn’t be good. For either of them. He wasn’t in the mood to tolerate any bullshit this particular evening.
It became apparent immediately that she was refusing him. He fought both his anger and his arousal, as he turned and stepped just outside of the ballroom. Turning his head, he kept one eye on her, fully prepared for the moment she’d have to make use of the elevator to get to her room.
With his eyes on the double doors of the ballroom, he leaned back against the wall and waited.
****
Maria was silently panicking. She’d seen and heard Garrett pissed before and for whatever reason, she wasn’t ready to face his anger tonight. His anger … and his arousal. There’d been no question looking at him earlier, the man was pissed. And an aroused, pissed off Garrett Rule was not someone she was up to fighting with tonight.
She wasn’t scared of his anger, not really, and she wasn’t scared of his arousal, at least, not at the moment. She took a breath and then admitted what she was afraid of: she was scared of her response to him. And of what she might not be able to stop from happening if she was alone with him tonight. And there was no question, from the fire smoldering off him, she knew his intentions were to get her alone. She needed to stay away from him, especially tonight. It wasn’t as if she was tipsy, because she’d been nursing the single flute of champagne the entire night and it was still half-full. So, inebriation wasn’t the problem.
Her nerves were upset, because she didn’t seem to have any control over her shifting emotions where Garrett was concerned. She’d realized that fact when she had no reaction to Luis Calderon. The younger Calderon grandson, the one who was still firmly single, was ridiculously handsome. She’d had a small crush on him off and on during the years. In the past, she’d enjoyed his flirting repartee … had even been tempted to start something with him, as he’d always indicated they should. But she hadn’t, mostly because he was a guest at the hotel and her professionalism precluded that anything might happen between them. But tonight she hadn’t felt a shred of temptation. Her head had been filled with the image of another man.
The image and the memory of another man’s taste. Of his touch. Of his power over her.
And then she’d looked up and there he was, staring her down as if she were betraying him, as if she’d done something that was immoral, unethical, something that she’d be severely punished for when he got his hands on her.
And then he’d called her over to him with that damn arrogant tilt of his head that she detested. No way. Not tonight. For some reason, a reason that was stronger than it had ever been since Garrett had arrived in Miami, she didn’t feel up to a contest with him, sexual or otherwise.
She made her escape from Luis’s side when one of his cousins came and joined him. She wished them both a goodnight and told Luis she’d see him later. She took a few steps forward, and was able to sneak a peak at Garrett as he leaned against the wall in the vestibule just outside of the ballroom, his intention of ambushing her as she left the room more than obvious.
Refusing to be caught in his hold, she decided to take the service stairway, which she was her preference over the elevator anyway, and missed it completely when Garrett turned his head and saw her make the move toward the obscure doorway that housed the steps.
****
About to round the corner of the landing leading to the fourth floor, Maria’s nerves jolted when she heard the sound of the door above her opening and then closing with the loud, echoing slam of steel against steel.
She came to an abrupt halt and listened, knowing for a fact that someone was in the stairwell above her, just out of her sight.
Silence.
The only sound she heard was her heart beating loudly in her ears, but she knew she wasn’t alone.
If she took two steps forward she’d be able to look up and see whoever was there. Two steps back might give her time to escape.
Unable to slow the raging pulse that was telling her that Garrett had found her, she took two steps backwards toward the wall, preparing to turn and run down, her stiletto heels clicking loudly against the bare concrete.
She never had a chance.
He sprinted down the half flight of stairs before she could even grab the railing that would balance her on the way down.
Damn stilettos. Damn her vanity for wearing them.
His hands reached out and he caught her, dragging her backwards, and she found her spine against the wall in the corner of the landing before she could even blink.
Breathing unsteadily, she looked up into the eyes of a madman as she fought for oxygen.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he raged, indomitable fury in every line of his body.
Breathe, Maria. Just take one breath and then let it out. For some reason, she had no idea why, it never occurred to her to lie to him. “Avoiding
you.”
The look on his face seemed to say that he wanted nothing more than to shake her, but he didn’t. His fingers bit into the flesh of her upper arms, and his brows came down in a thunderous scowl of rage that was not scaring her. Hell no, the dude did not scare her. If she could just remember to breathe, then maybe she could convince herself of that truth.
He looked down at her, his height and breadth dominating her where she stood, as a small buzzing in the back of her brain told her that it probably wasn’t wise to take on a guy who was at least a foot taller and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds of pure muscle. And that was without considering the pissed off river of testosterone that seemed to be flowing through his bloodstream at the moment.
Her eyes stayed glued to his, and as he moved several inches closer, her chin lifted and her neck arched at an uncomfortable angle so she could keep him in her sights as he loomed closer. All the while her heart was beating so rapidly that her head was spinning, and she was sucking in oxygen so quickly that she was beginning to hyperventilate.
“The goddamn stairwell, Maria?” he questioned in a yell, biting the words out.
“What … what?” she asked, confusion setting in.
Lines of ice-cold fury bracketed his mouth. “Do you not have a clue? Do you not have a single working brain cell in that head of yours?”
She jerked her head back, not caring for that question one damn bit. She felt her blood pressure rise as her eyes narrowed, a returning anger filling her bloodstream. Fuck him. Fuck his arrogance. “Watch it, Mr. Rule. You’re beginning to piss me off.”
He leaned into her another intimidating inch. “Piss. You. Off?”
“I promise, you don’t want to piss me off,” she challenged, ignoring the warning bells in her head.
A yellow spiral of heat began blending with the brown of his irises, surrounding the growing black circle of his pupils, telling of his anger. “Yeah? We’ll get back to that shit in a minute,” he stated, as if her own anger was no more irritating than a fly buzzing around. “Why the fuck would you take the stairway?”
“Why … why shouldn’t I?”
He rolled his eyes heavenward and then looked back down. “Do you not give a shit about your own safety?”
“You think I’m going to trip and fall?” she asked sarcastically, beginning to get a glimmer as to where he was really going with this.
“Smart-ass,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re going to get assaulted, that’s what I think.”
“You think it’s dangerous in here?” she snapped, seeing no threat except for the one standing in front of her.
One brawny hand released her arm and moved unerringly, forcibly, to the hem of her dress. “I don’t know, what do you think?”
Chapter Five
Without so much as a pause, Garrett pushed the skirt of her dress up, out of his way, the palm of his hand seizing her mound, covered only by a triangle of silk fabric. She sucked in a startled breath as an arrow of heat shot through her, immobilizing her. He squeezed threateningly as he stared down at her, the lines of his face showing both scalding anger and a growing, imposing arousal.
Lights and whistles began going off in her head. Shit, shit, shit. This wasn’t good. Even now, she could feel her body begin to release a wet heat. Damn, he’d feel it through her panties any second now. Four, three, two, one—
The expression on his face transformed as fire exploded in his eyes. “Son-of-a-bitch, Maria.” Lightning fast, he pushed the crotch of her panties aside and his finger landed on her clit. He began rubbing, massaging her, and shock at the sudden situation held her momentarily in place. Although aroused, his anger was still there. “What if it had been someone else? Someone who wanted to hurt you?”
Despite her growing arousal, because of her growing arousal, Maria made a grab for his wrist to try to stop him as she struggled for words. “It’s completely safe. Only employees and guests—”
He didn’t release her. “Bullshit, it’s not safe. I get that you trust the employees here. But goddammit, you’d have no fucking clue if a psycho checked in. Anybody could follow you in here, overpower you, hurt you. You’re going to quit taking the stairs, understand me? You want to take the fucking stairs, you take the open staircase in the lobby, not this back stairwell, you got me?”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she spat out, meeting his gaze straight on.
“I’m sorry, what?” The impatient words ripped from his throat. “What the fuck just came out of your mouth?”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” she plunged on defiantly.
He didn’t bother to answer. His head swooped down, he nipped at her bottom lip and then forced his tongue inside her mouth, just as he began swirling his finger around her clit again. A low growl of vibration started coming from deep in his chest as he crowded her back against the wall while spreading her legs apart, pushing his lower body between them.
Maria’s head began swimming again just as a new burst of damp heat flooded the juncture of her legs. How could he piss her off so badly and make her feel like this all at the same time? She was beyond excited, if this went on for much longer, she’d be in danger of climaxing, right here in the stairwell.
Abruptly, he lifted his head, his mouth coming off hers. She opened her eyes and found him staring down at her, his nostrils flaring. “And what about this goddamn dress?”
“What?” she asked, disoriented.
“I’ve never seen it before,” he stated with a stroke of censure before switching gears on her. “Who the fuck was the dude, Maria?”
Dress? Dude? What was he talking about? “What dude?”
At her question, he growled in warning and his finger slid down and found her wet opening. Her heart went haywire and she tried with everything she had not to push forward, her traitorous body searching for some degree of satisfaction.
He plunged inside without warning. She let out a semi-startled moan and heard him groan at the same time. His forehead fell to hers as he swirled his finger inside. She gave up; she pushed against him, adjusting her leg just a tiny bit. Ahh… there. Oh, God, that was it, that was the place.
But he wasn’t through questioning her yet. “The dude in the ballroom. The motherfucker who had his arm around you.”
“No… nobody,” she panted, unable to think of anything but the magic his fingers were creating.
“Don’t give me that shit. You feel me inside, baby?” He pushed harder, swirled in a larger circle around her inner walls, making her entire body short-circuit. “Let me explain it to you,” he growled. “Nobody puts their fucking hands on you again, understand me?”
Christ. The guy was a maniac. “You … no… you can’t tell me what to do.”
“No? I think I fucking can. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. You’re not going to have much of a goddamn choice.” With that, his lips fell back to hers and anything else she might have said was silenced by his mouth on hers.
Maria was swamped on all fronts by basic, sexual need. Under the onslaught of his mouth, teeth and tongue, she could barely breathe. She became lightheaded, and all the feeling in her body seemed to dive and circulate around a pulse-point between her thighs. He added a second finger to the first, and the impact was electrifying. His thumb rubbed against her clit, and she was aware of the bulge of his erection pushing into the fabric of her dress, pressing so hard that his belt buckle began pinching into her.
It should have hurt, it would have hurt if she hadn’t been so far gone. If anyone walked in on them …but all she could focus on was his incredible scent … he smelled so good. Tantalizing … addictive … her hormones were going crazy. She felt as if she’d never recover from this one sexual encounter for the rest of her life to be able to enjoy anything else. Ever. Her brain splintered in two with the thought and as she felt him push against her, with his fingers, his lips, his tongue, she began splintering in two for real as she began falling over the edge.
>
She heard whimpers in the background, a noise that turned into a wail, and then she was blinded on all sides as ecstasy swamped her senses. Cataclysmic heat ran down her veins and centered at the intimate place where they were connected.
As soon as she began breathing again, Garrett ripped his mouth away from hers. Holding her pressed against the wall with his torso, he removed his hand from her and immediately went to work unfastening the enclosure on his pants.
Danger signs began lighting up inside her head. They were blinking as if she were on a road leading to a dark cliff that she couldn’t see, but that she knew was there. Undoubtedly, she’d end up somewhere where she’d crash and burn. “Garrett, no.”
She pushed against him, her sudden about-face taking him by surprise and allowing her to pull away from him so she stood just beyond his reach. His hands stilled on his pants as the look of a dangerous animal crossed his features. “No?”
She began shaking her head and backing away, not even looking or realizing where she was going.
His hand shot out and grabbed her arm, forcibly pulling her into his chest and away from the steps behind her. Her heart began hammering at what she’d almost done, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to cry.
But she never cried.
And she wasn’t about to start now. And certainly not in front of Garrett Rule. “Let me go. I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She pulled back, but he clamped her wrist, holding her still.
His eyes ran over her, from top to bottom and she couldn’t read his expression. But what came out of his mouth shocked her silly. “I’ll never forget the way you look in that dress, you coming on my fingers, not until the day I die.”
Though earthy and erotic, it was an almost romantic thing for him to say, and it only upset her more. She tugged on her arm again, but he didn’t release her. He began walking up the steps to the fourth floor, all but dragging her with him. Apprehension clawed down her spine. “Where are we going?”