by Amber Rayne
He listened to me in silence. “Okay, who were you drawn to? Him or her?”
“What?”
“You couldn’t keep your eyes off them,” he said, guiding me to the street and hailing a cab.
“They’re interesting” was all I could offer. I wasn’t sure what was so alluring about them—the fact that they were the embodiment of sexuality, obviously open and unrestricted by any norms, or Kieran’s assertion that seeing this art was a change from their typical games. They piqued my curiosity, and although there wasn’t a desire to explore it beyond that, they intrigued me.
“They are interesting,” he said, still assessing me.
“That’s it. I find them interesting.” But to make sure I got my message across, I added lightly, “I only want to see them in public with their clothes on, at a casual normal distance.”
Aiden laughed.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked once we were settled in the cab that had pulled up.
His smile widened. “To see an apple that’s just an apple.”
A half hour later, we were in an industrial building I assumed had been converted to a studio. He rang the bell and was immediately greeted by a blond whose scraggly hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. He wore loose-fitting jeans, a relaxed t-shirt. The entire time he spoke with us, he ran his hand over the stubble on his face. “Aiden, it’s good to see you, man.”
“Good to see you, too. How’s the world of art treating you?”
He made a face and shrugged. “Kieran’s shows pay the bills and allow me to do what I love.”
We followed him up the stairs and he opened the door to a large, open room, a small kitchen and a futon in the corner. Exposed pipes and fixtures ran along the ceiling of the room, with strings of overhead lighting to illuminate the walls, which were the only thing finished in the massive room. Rows and rows of art covered them.
“I’ve had plenty of time to work on my projects since Kieran has found himself drawn to my muse.”
I smiled. “I thought a muse was metaphorical,” I said as I slowly walked throughout the room as the blond and Aiden watched me, or rather my response to it.
“For some it is. Angela tends to inspire me,” he said with a hint of amusement in his words.
When Aiden laughed, I figured it was a joke between the two of them. It was clear that they had more than a business relationship. I walked through the faux gallery, where apples were apples. Women sat on chairs in dresses appropriate for brunch or even church. Couples held hands, and touched in unprovocative and boring ways. It was beautiful, simple, and uninspiring. Boring.
“It’s beautiful,” I said as I continued to walk through the studio. “All of it.” Perusing the area for what I felt was an acceptable amount of time, I thanked him for letting me view his work. Money was exchanged before we left. By the time we had gotten to the street, Aiden’s car was waiting for us.
“It was beautiful, thank you. I enjoyed the showing.”
“No, you didn’t. But I’m sure Dax appreciated the earnest attempt to show interest. This is the third showing I’ve taken you to, and the only one that you seemed to work so hard on appreciating. You claimed the other ones were lewd, sexual and provocative, but the very things that you hold in contempt are the things that you seem to enjoy. You seem to be that way. I haven’t figured out if that’s by choice or circumstance.”
“I’m your experiment. You do things to me to see how I will respond.”
“Not just you. I’m fascinated by the human condition.”
“You’re fascinated by it, or you wish to exploit it?”
He smiled, a crooked enchanting grin. “Do you think I’m exploiting you?”
“No,” I answered quickly.
He paused for a long time, studying me with interest and an unyielding curiosity. He leaned into me, cradling my face in his hand, his forehead pressed against mine. His tongue licked against my lips as he spoke. “I want you to really think about that, Ella. Don’t give me the answer you want me to hear. Give me the one you feel,” he entreated, his voice dropping to a low, deep timbre, demanding an honesty and self-reflection that I wasn’t prepared for.
Silence prevailed, but I knew as much as I would have liked to ignore the question, Aiden wouldn’t let it go. Eventually I answered, “I don’t think you exploit me or anybody, but you push me out of my comfort zone.”
“You don’t like that?”
By the time we were in the elevator, I still hadn’t answered. He waited patiently for me to do so. When we stepped into the elevator, he pushed me back against the wall, the weight of his body pressing against me. I was aware of his curiosity and his hands as they ran along the curve of my face, down my neck, over my breasts. Gentle, exploring motions. His lips teased me and then he moved out of reach. He’d tease me with his lips and retreat as soon as I responded. We played this game until the elevator stopped at his floor.
Aiden shrugged off his jacket and laid it across the chair as he walked into the livingroom. He stayed several feet away from me as we stood in the middle of the living room. “Answer my question,” Aiden urged firmly.
“I’m not used to it. And you expect me to be honest about my feelings, my desires, things that make me uncomfortable and things that I like and don’t necessarily feel okay openly admitting.”
“I need more.” He approached me slowly, “Like what?” he asked, his tone as soft and commanding as before. When he was within reach of me, he brought my hands down to my sides, his finger traveling along my arm, the feather strokes making me shiver. Moving at his command, I stepped out of my dress once he had unzipped it and helped it slide to the floor. He kicked it out of the way.
“Close your eyes, Ella.” And I did.
The silk dug into my arms as he secured my arms behind my back with the tie. His tongue traveled over me. Coolness replaced the warmth of his tongue each time he moved to a different area. He tweaked my nipples, and I gasped at the pain.
“I’m waiting.”
As he rolled the hardened pebbles between his fingers, I was too distracted to give him more. I opened my eyes to look at him. And he tsked me before moving away. I tried to keep my eyes closed but failed, turning my head to follow him and the sound.
“Look straight ahead.” I did, and seconds later I was surrounded by darkness as he covered my eyes. I no longer felt the heat of his body close to me, just the coolness of the air as it brushed against my naked body, and the wetness between my legs that always happened whenever he touched me.
Silence.
Finally he spoke again. “Like what, Ella? Be specific.”
Aware of his fingers as they roved over me, his lips behind me, I tried to concentrate despite the arousal and his fingers stroking against my folds, sending pleasure thrumming through me.
“Ella.” He was more impatient. I concentrated.
“I wanted to know more about you,” I admitted.
“Why?” he asked softly.
It was a good question. Why did I need to know more about him? What would it change?
In front of me, I inhaled the musk of his cologne. Tasted his lips that still held the lingering hint of brandy.
“Because.” Twack. I winced as he smacked my ass.
“That’s not an answer, Ella.”
The wetness between my legs had made focusing hard. “Do you like the things we do?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Then what else do you need?” He was still close. “Do you remember what brought you here?”
Again, I nodded.
“You knew Jason. It didn’t stop him from hurting you. Knowing more about me won’t do that either.” His forehead pressed against mine, his breath beat lightly against my lips, his fingers pressed into my skin as he pulled me closer to him.
“Let’s just have fun. You enjoy me because I intend to enjoy you.” He moved behind me, his lips covering my neck. I moved it to the side to give him better access. “Are you okay wit
h that?”
I didn’t answer, his words lingering in my mind, the lewd things we’d done today and would do throughout the week crowding my head. Shrouded in darkness, my mind quickly went over the events of the day, and I found it fixed on Kieran. He intended to enjoy me. Before, that had included inviting someone to join us in sex. My heart pounded as I thought about his questions regarding Angela and Kieran earlier. I tugged at my bindings. I listened for more sounds, footsteps. I inhaled again, trying to detect the other scents in the air.
Panting, I tugged at the bindings even more.
“Ella what’s the matter?”
“Take off the blindfold,” I commanded, breathless. He took it off quickly. Standing in front of me, he looked at me as my gaze bounced around the room. Taking my face between his hands, he held it steady, his gaze fastened on mine.
“What’s wrong?”
“I thought I heard something. Someone else in the room,” I admitted softly.
Stroking his thumb consolingly over my cheeks, he said. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
I swallowed and waited for the words, the right words, to come to me. “I don’t mistrust you,” I admitted. “I want it to be just us. I don’t want you to test things on me to see how I respond. Not things like adding someone else during sex.”
He inclined his head, remaining silent for a long time, expressionless. I couldn’t read him, and it made things uncomfortable.
Reaching behind me, he loosened the knot while keeping his eyes firmly fixed on me. Amber eyes barely peeked through the narrow slits of his eyelids.
When the tie binding my arms fell from me, he took my hands and led me to the sofa, where he sat and pulled me into his lap. I curled up into him, and he wrapped his arms around me.
“Go ahead. Talk.”
“I don’t have any more to say,” I said.
“Okay, then listen. I enjoy sex, I’m not restricted by anything and I don’t want you to be either. I will never do anything like that to you again. I was wrong. If you can’t take my word and don’t trust me, then this will not work.”
My head barely moved into the nod. “I don’t like women either. Not in that way,” I blurted.
His brows drew together. “I missed something?”
The words spilled from my mouth before I could edit them. “She’s pretty and exotic. I see why she’s Dax’s muse, and whatever she is to Kieran, but I find women interesting. That’s it.”
He chuckled. “Yes, Angela intrigues a lot of people, but I assure you, even if she’s into women, she definitely didn’t have any interest in you. Her loss.”
“Are you sure? I saw her looking at me. Sort of the same way people were looking at the picture of the woman inappropriately touching that apple.”
The sound of his laughter floated throughout the air. “Ah, Ella has a hint of arrogance. Angela was looking at me. She’s not used to being denied, and I intrigued her because of it.”
“Why did you deny the muse?” I asked. It was doubtful many men would reject her.
“Rules. She only abides by her own, and everyone bends to her will.”
“It seems like you two are too much alike to find pleasure in one another.”
He shrugged. “Ella, in which way have I not accommodated you?”
There were always layers to his questioning. It always felt like I was being quizzed so he could discover more about me. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Ask so many questions. What are you trying to find out about me, and why?”
“You are a very interesting woman.” His fingers rolled over my nipples, coaxing a moan out from me. He nudged me to stand and guided me to his bedroom and then positioned me in front of the full-length mirror. He kissed my shoulder. My eyes followed him as he traveled over my body.
“Keep looking forward, Ella,” he commanded.
I focused on the mirror and the image of him touching me. His fingers trailing over my body as he moved behind me. Delicately he cupped my breasts, squeezing them, caressing them. He tweaked the nipples, hard. I whimpered and closed my eyes.
“Keep them open. I want you to see what I see.” He played with the folds between my legs, eliciting another moan. I rested back against him, watching his fingers disappear inside me at a steady rhythm, writhing against them, seeking the pleasure that he denied me.
He nudged me forward, my hands resting on either side of the mirror, my legs spread wide. He unzipped his pants and entered me. I gasped from the invasion, looking us in the mirror through heavy-lidded eyes, my lips forming an O, glistening moistness trailing down my inner thigh. My breasts were cupped in his hands as his body lurched forward with each of his powerful thrusts. The tide of pleasure rose, spreading over me. I moved back in an increasing pace, meeting his powerful thrusts, craving more of him, seeking to extinguish the desire, the need to come.
Head down, I moved faster, harder, my breathing rushed. Aiden dropped his hand from one of my breasts to grab a handful of my hair, pulling me up to look in the mirror. He pounded into me, then rolled the hardened peaks of my breasts hard between his fingers, giving me pleasure in the pain.
I came, my body quivering against him, feeling him expand in me as he sought his pleasure. He pulled me back against me, still seated deep inside me, allowing me to get another glance at myself—at us, sated, through narrowed and eyelash-veiled eyes. My hair mussed, perspiration glistened my face, and Aiden’s face was buried in the curve of my neck.
He nuzzled my neck. “Watching you is the best part,” he said softly.
We showered and went to bed. I rolled into him and curled against him, snuggling against his chest. He tensed and stayed that way for several moments before he relaxed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him.
CHAPTER 4
I awoke to the sound of Aiden’s stern voice as he spoke into the phone. I’d heard the phone and ignored it, turning over and quickly falling back to sleep. He’d ignored it too, until it rang three more times several minutes later.
“Elizabeth,” he said. I rolled to my side to face him. He smiled at me, resting his free hand on my side.
Her voice was raised but I couldn’t make out the words. It was just muffled sounds. I suspected that she was correcting him because she preferred to be called “Liz” by him—what he’d called her when they were married.
He said her name again. “My father and I have had this discussion, and I’m sure as his lackey and sycophant, you’ve given him false hope that you can negotiate something different. You can’t.”
There was more back and forth as he lay back against the headboard, an easy smile curling his lips as he listened to her. “If you have the papers, then of course you can come up.”
Ten minutes later, I heard the click of heels and Lorraine’s stern voice as she strained to remain polite. The bedroom door swung open. Elizabeth’s blond hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. Her billowy dress accentuated her round stomach, making her look further along than her six months. Aiden’s eyes flew to her stomach the same way they had when I’d first met her at a fundraiser. Her delicate features held a hint of a glow. She had papers and a clipboard in her hands.
“Aiden, we do not—” She stopped, her mouth open in shock. Her eyes widened. “What is she doing in our bed!” she snapped. “What the fuck is your toy doing in our bed?”
“Elizabeth, get out.” She moved, but further into the room, nearly charging at the bed. Aiden rolled out of bed naked and took hold of her, easing her back. When she didn’t move, he lifted her gently and took her out of the room and then closed the door in her face. He moved to his dresser and took out a pair of underwear, then went into his closet and came out dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. He picked up the papers she’d dropped when he’d escorted her out and left.
The moment he was out of the room, I looked out the slightly open door. Elizabeth stood several feet from Aiden, her eyes cast down to the floor. “She’s in your bed,
in our house. How could you do this?”
“Liz,” he said, his voice low, gentle—gentler than I would expect from a man dealing with his ex-wife who was pregnant with his father’s baby. “This is no longer your home. What goes on in my house is no longer your concern,” he said.
Her gaze lifted, looking past him at the door. I’m sure she saw me. Fixing her glare in my direction, she eventually directed her gaze back at Aiden. She placed her hand on her stomach and looked at him. Then she stepped closer, but her voice was loud enough to carry.
“This isn’t just your flavor of the month, is she? Are you going to tell her, or should I?”
“You’re upset. This meeting isn’t going to happen. Meet me in my office in two hours. We will discuss things there,” he said in a tepid voice.
Lorraine approached, extending her hand to guide her out the door. Elizabeth glared at her, snatched the papers from Aiden and walked toward the door.
“I have to go to the office,” he said before he slipped into the shower. Twenty minutes later, he emerged. I was clutching the covers in one hand, my phone in the other. I had ignored the text from my mother, who had invited me to brunch. I didn’t want to have brunch with my mother. Since she had encountered Aiden and me at brunch days ago, all our conversations had revolved around him, my relationship with him, and any more events I planned to attend with him. My mother’s hobby was keeping up with the who’s who of the city, the up-and-comers, and those who had already made it, and during her daily perusal of the local paper’s society pages, she’d seen a picture of me with Aiden at his father’s fundraiser and couldn’t let it go.
Being treated to her veiled insults and invasive questioning was something I could do without. I needed to talk to Natalie. The moment Aiden had gone to the bathroom, I texted her everything that had happened. She was just as anxious as I was to find out what Liz needed to tell me. Aiden remained a man of few words as he dressed in another expensive tailored suit, brown instead of his typical blue. Slim-cut, and a white shirt without a tie.
“Are you going to stay here or make plans? I might be gone for a couple of hours.”