The Charmer’s Gambit

by Lexi C. Foss

  Maybe it was my week with Will that bolstered my confidence, or the terror ripping through my veins at the very real proof of Ryan spying on me. Or maybe I’d finally reached my breaking point and my mind had cracked. Or perhaps all of the above.

  My finger hovered over the answer button.

  What would he do? Waltz into Will’s house and beat me? Show up in France unannounced and drag me home to an impromptu wedding? He couldn’t wait for me at my apartment. I had no return ticket scheduled yet. Just a one-way booking to France. We would be staying at a Mershano Suites, of course. Ryan could follow me there, and then what? He was in the middle of gearing up for a Senate run. A public disturbance in another country wouldn’t bode well for his political career. Even insane, he had to know that.

  My jaw clenched as a fresh text rolled across my screen.

  Pick. Up. The. Fucking. Phone.

  I rolled my shoulders and waited. When his number flashed again, I answered.

  “You fucking—”

  “No,” I snapped, cutting him off. “You do not get to call and scream at me for no fucking reason. This ends now, Ryan. I’m done. We are done.”

  Silence. This tactic always unnerved me, but not tonight. I felt elated. High, even. I couldn’t believe all those words had spilled out of my mouth, and with such fervor too. I didn’t necessarily raise my voice, but my tone brooked no argument.

  I’d just called off our wedding. Again.

  And it felt amazing.

  “Stop calling me,” I continued, the words tumbling out before I could think them through. “Stop texting me. Just, stop.”

  His blue eyes were undoubtedly storming right about now. That right hand clenched into a fist. His brow pinched. I could picture it clearly. Ryan Albertson was an attractive man, with his aristocratic features, artfully styled hair, and broad shoulders. I’d been drawn to him immediately. But beneath that flawless skin lay a monster, and I knew from experience that it was clawing to the surface right now.

  You’re safe here, my conscience whispered. The rolling in my stomach settled at the certainty in that thought. Ryan couldn’t touch me. There would be hell to pay later, but I’d worry about that when the time came. Which would, hopefully, not be soon.

  “Okay, Rachel.” His neutral tone sent a chill down my spine. Oh yeah, I’d well and truly pissed him off. “We’ll talk soon.”

  I opened my mouth to repeat my comments about not calling me anymore, but the line went dead before I could utter a word. The phone slipped from my hand and bounced on the bed. My throat convulsed.

  I’d done it.

  I’d stood up to Ryan.

  The room spun as a foreign sensation settled deep in the pit of my stomach.

  “It’s done,” I whispered to no one in particular.

  A laugh escaped my throat, part mad, part elated. I couldn’t believe it. For the first time in years, I’d talked back to Ryan. It’d been so long since I dared to try, too terrified of the repercussions. But even though I knew he’d punish me later, I couldn’t bring myself to react. Fear lingered on the precipice of my thoughts, looking for a weak point and finding none.

  For the first time in a very long time, I felt untouchable. Strong. Daring. Confident.

  The curtains at the open balcony door fluttered in the night breeze, beckoning me forward. And in that moment, I knew what I wanted. Whom I wanted. I’d fought it from the moment I met him. I was terrified to acknowledge the undeniable attraction radiating between us, scared of allowing myself to fall for a powerful man, and worried I might get him hurt in the process. But not anymore.

  It was as if courage had finally found me again. I felt light, exuberant, and stronger than I’d been in longer than I cared to remember. Like I could conquer the world, or maybe just a sexy-as-sin millionaire.

  I started walking before I could talk myself out of it, slipping out onto the balcony and over to his open door. Soft light spilled through the curtains. This is it. I knocked against the glass to announce my presence before entering. Will stood next to his bed, right where I wanted him, and turned with a knowing grin. He’d expected me to come to him. That should have irritated me, but it didn’t. His confidence drew me to him like a moth to a flame. Influential men were my kryptonite. That’s why I avoided them.

  “Hmm, I thought you might stop by.” He patted the oversized mattress. “On the bed, darlin’. I’ll be back.”

  He didn’t look to see if I would comply, just sauntered off towards his bathroom in nothing but a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants. My throat went dry at the sight of all that tanned muscle on display. The man was a god and he knew it.

  “Bed,” he repeated before disappearing through the French doors. The single-word command was uttered without him even looking at me. He knew I was ogling him instead of complying. What would he do if I refused the demand? I shivered. Maybe I would test that query another day, but not tonight.

  I sat on the quilt with my legs hanging over the side and waited for him to return. The bottle in his hand surprised me almost as much as the towel in his other. I eyed the items curiously, wondering what kink he had in mind for our first time. He set the towel beside my hip as he came to stand in front of me.

  One knee slid between mine, followed by a second, forcing me to spread my thighs wide to accommodate him between my legs. The dominance in that single act sent a rush of wet heat to my center. My chest rose and fell in anticipation of what he intended to do next. The bottle clicked open. It wasn’t labeled, so I had no idea what to expect, but the sweet aroma calmed my nerves. Will squeezed a quarter’s worth of off-white cream onto his palm before setting the lotion aside.

  “Close your eyes and don’t move.” His low voice slid over me in a hypnotic caress. Oh, yes, please. My lids fell shut. “Now, I warned you about your hat, darlin’. Just remember that.”

  I frowned. “Wh—”

  Something blessedly cool touched my forehead, cutting me off. A tingling sensation ignited as his skilled fingers massaged circles over my eyebrows and up into my hairline. It felt amazing, until it didn’t.

  “Whoa.” I jerked back, eyes flying open, to find him shaking his head.

  “I foresee bondage in our future.”

  I ignored that particular comment and focused on his torture bottle. “What the fuck is that?”

  “It’s cocoa butter blended with aloe vera. The sting is the moisturizer, which you need right now.” He squirted more onto his hand and cocked an eyebrow. “Now, are you going to stay still, or do I need to tie you to the bed?”

  Oh, shit.

  This was not going to end well.

  16

  Taking It Slow

  “You can’t be serious.” No way would he really tie me down.

  “I’m always serious, darlin’. Now close those gorgeous blue eyes and let me finish. I promise you’ll thank me later.”

  “You seem to be confusing the term thank with kill,” I muttered as I closed my eyes. I only agreed because the soothing sensation had returned and I wanted more.

  “No moving.” The command in his voice touched me in all the right places. I had no doubt he really would tie me to the bed, and a depraved part of me wanted to see him try. The rational part of me, however, rolled her eyes.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied sarcastically and regretted it immediately. His chuckle filled the air between us as his fingers returned to my face.

  “Oh, I do love the way that sounds.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  Sharp teeth sunk into my bottom lip, shocking the hell out of me. “You’ve said those sexy words twice in my bed this week, gorgeous. I will hear them again, and with less sarcasm.”

  “Twice?” I repeated, incredulous. “Try once.”

  “You said them the first time you were in my bed, after I told you not to move, while we were discussing your adorable stockings.”

  “I don’t remember . . .” Okay, actually, I did recall those words coming out of my mouth. �
��But if it happened, I didn’t mean it.”

  “So you say.” His fingers moved to my cheeks where the stinging was less prominent. The burn on my forehead must have been worse. “Are you regretting losing your hat yet?”

  My nose scrunched as he applied the lotion there. “It was too hot on my head.”

  His chuckle was low and warm. “That’s the city girl in you talkin’, but we’ll get you there.”

  I snorted. “Trust me, the cowboy look works much better on you.”

  “Does it?” His thumb traced my jaw, massaging the ointment in as he went. I couldn’t tell what I enjoyed more—his touch or the way it soothed my sunburn. When he pulled away, I nearly groaned in disappointment, but then I heard the cap pop again. I peeked up at him through my lashes and found him studying my shoulders.

  “Next time I’ll remember sunscreen.” Amusement flirted with his features. “Since you have an aversion to hats.” He squeezed a healthy amount onto his palms and rubbed them together before reaching for my neck. I flinched when his thumb touched my throat, a place I associated with weakness thanks to Ryan. Will lifted his hands, his eyes searching mine intently. He’d obviously felt my reaction. Damn it.

  “Too much?”

  I swallowed and shook my head. “No, you just caught me off guard.” A truth mingled with a lie. “Sorry.” God, I hated Ryan. He’d trained my body to react to the dumbest movements. I knew Will wouldn’t hurt me.

  You used to think that about Ryan too.

  But no, that wasn’t exactly true. My ex had swept me off my feet, made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world, but the signs were always there. In the possessive way he handled me, the control he exuded in every situation, the way he alienated me from my friends and family . . . He never let me win arguments and always found a way to place the blame on my shoulders. Will’s dominance felt different. Protective.

  He studied me for so long that I worried my emotions were showing on my face. Then, ever so gently, his touch returned. But rather than go for my throat, he started at the back of my neck and massaged the lotion into the base of my scalp. His clever fingers pressed deep, making my jaw go slack.

  Oh. My. God.

  That felt amazing. My head fell forward against his abdomen, eliciting one of those alluring chuckles from him. I couldn’t bring myself to care. All my tension seemed to melt away as he continued his ministrations along my shoulders and down my arms. He paused every now and then to add more lotion, but by the time he was finished, I felt like Jelly.

  He swept my hair over my shoulder and traced my upper back. “Lie down on your stomach for me.”

  I groaned because that required moving. My forehead had created the perfect pillow against his six pack, and I planned to stay here forever. It wasn’t the softest pillow, but I rather enjoyed the heat radiating from him.

  His fingers brushed my jaw before gently taking hold of my chin. He tilted my head, forcing me to look up at him. My mouth went numb at the fierce emotion emanating from his gaze. Tension sizzled in the air between us, burning a path straight to my center. I couldn’t look away. His expression hypnotized me, leaving me powerless to his will. My hands went to his shoulders when he grabbed my hips and lifted me. His movements were effortless as he repositioned me in the center of the mattress, with one of his knees between my legs on the bed. “Roll over, darlin’.”

  Right. He wanted me on my stomach.

  He shifted as I moved, and straddled my thighs. His finger traced a line down my spine, over my tank top, and stopped at the hem. When his thumb slipped beneath the fabric, I shivered. I expected him to try to remove it, but instead, both hands slid under my shirt and began massaging my lower back.

  “Oh . . .” I couldn’t hide the moan as he worked magic over muscles I hadn’t realized were sore. All those hours outside had affected me more than I expected. Pruning was an exercise my daily runs had not prepared me for, not to mention I hadn’t been on one of those daily runs in a few weeks thanks to the long office hours. I pressed my face into the pillow and used it to muffle my groan.

  “Mmm, I think that might be my new favorite sound.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder as he moved his palms higher. I didn’t even care that my tank top was sliding up with his hands. As long as he continued touching me like that, he could strip me bare. I never wanted this to end.

  “Your hands are magical.” The words slipped out of their own volition. Whatever. His ego couldn’t get much bigger anyway.

  He nuzzled the back of my neck. “I think you’ll find my mouth to be just as pleasant.” His hot breath against my sensitive skin scattered goose bumps down my arms. Excitement and exhaustion fought for purpose inside of me. On the one hand, I’d never been more comfortable in my life. But, on the other, I’d never been this turned on before. My condition worsened when he tugged the straps of my tank top down, exposing my upper back. The fabric felt heavier than I remembered it being, and I had the sudden urge to rip it over my head.

  But Will had other ideas. He pulled the bottom back to its rightful place before pressing the heel of his hand into my shoulder blade. I squirmed beneath him, unable to handle the conflicting sensations rallying inside me anymore. Heat pooled between my legs as the tension unfurled along my spine. It was a delicious mix that left me shaking. If this was his version of foreplay, I approved.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  Hot. On edge. Needy. None of those answers sufficed, and neither did the one that escaped my lips: “Good.” Oh, I could do better than that. “Amazing.” Still not enough. “I’m never leaving.”

  He returned my straps to my shoulders with a chuckle. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, darlin’.”

  When I felt his thighs tense, like he was about to leave, I rolled beneath him. He stared down at me in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected me to be able to move that fast. Well, that made two of us. But my body required me to act. I felt like I was going to explode. He set me on fire in a way I never thought possible, and I needed him to extinguish the flame. There was only one way to do that.

  I went to my elbows, eyes locked on his. “Kiss me.” When he didn’t immediately react, I cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t this what you’ve wanted? Me willing and begging in your bed?”

  He brushed his thumb over my lips and tracked the movement with his eyes. “Is this you begging?”

  “Is that what you want?” Because I wasn’t above it at this point. The man had me all sorts of hot and bothered. It took considerable effort not to shift my hips upward and seek the friction I so badly needed. “Please, Will.” I tried to grab his shoulder and found my wrist caught in his big hand. He lowered it to the pillow beside my head as he stretched himself out lazily over me. When his arousal settled between my thighs, I nearly wept with joy.

  “You’re not ready for me yet, Rachel.” The words against my ear did not match the actions going on below.

  “Oh, I’m more than ready.” I rotated my hips upward to show him what I meant and sighed when his hard length touched the place where I needed him most. I already knew from our interlude on the balcony that the man was well endowed, but to feel him throbbing so intimately against me really drove the point home.

  That’s going to be inside me . . .

  “No, darlin’.” He placed an open-mouthed kiss against my pulse. “We’re going to do this right.”

  “Safely.” I agreed. “Condoms.” Ryan never allowed them, but I always wanted to use them. I shoved the memory away with an inner grimace and refocused on the moment. “You have one, right?” Because I didn’t pack one.

  He chuckled against my neck. “I do, but you’re not listening.” His free hand went to my hip, stopping me from rotating them upward again. “We’re not having sex tonight.”

  What? “Are you serious?” Wasn’t that his end goal? To get me in his bed?

  “Very.”

  His lack of an elaboration had me freezing beneath him. “I don’t understand.” This game
of hot and cold needed to end. He either wanted me or not.

  “You’re not ready,” he said, repeating his words from a few minutes ago. I’d mistaken them to mean something else entirely. This time I understood what he meant, and it sent a wave of rage through my system. I’d fought off male advances for almost two years, and now that I’d finally given in to one I actually wanted, he was rejecting me. Because he thought I wasn’t ready. Fuck. That.

  “Who the hell are you to decide what I want?” I tried to shove at his shoulders, but he caught my hands with an ease that further infuriated me. When he pushed both of them into the pillows on either side of my head, I lost it. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! You had your chance, Will. Now I’m not ready.” I knew on a mature level that my reaction wasn’t rational, that it was born of him rejecting me, but I couldn’t help it. “Get the fu—”

  His lips captured mine in a kiss that stole all fight from my lungs. Holy hell, that wasn’t fair. He couldn’t just silence me with his mouth and expect me to cooperate. When I tried to tell him that, he took advantage and slid his tongue between my lips. For half a second, I considered biting him, but my body refused. Despite my claim, I still wanted him.

  My hormones overrode logic, quieting the anger inside me and rekindling the fire deep in my belly. I shook with a need I couldn’t control and hated myself for it. Hated him. How could he be so hot and cold? Wanting me one minute, denying me the next, and then devastating me with his mouth? Because, Lord, the man knew how to kiss. He was right about his mouth rivaling his hands. He was a work of art, and he had me so hot and bothered that I couldn’t think straight.

  I ground my hips against him, and he pressed down even harder. My back threatened to arch off the bed, but his big body wouldn’t let it. When I tried to free my hands, his grip tightened—a subtle control that left me conflicted. Part of me loved the idea of surrendering to him and letting someone take care of me for once. It was exhausting always being in charge, but that sense of control was what kept me sane, what kept me safe. And my hesitancy made me uneasy, took me out of the moment, and left me blinking in confusion.