The Charmer’s Gambit

by Lexi C. Foss

  “Rachel . . .” My name sounded so perfect on his lips, so adoring, but when his fingers knotted in my hair, I knew he also meant it as a plea. It wasn’t enough. I needed him to shatter, and I wanted to be the one to push him there.

  My tongue circled his bulbous head as I grasped his hot member with one hand. His sweet and spicy taste coated my mouth, urging me to take him deeper. So silky and smooth. And, oh, how this impressive part of him deserved to be worshipped. It was long and thick and far too much for me to take in one pull, but I tried and met my fingers halfway down his shaft, then sucked hard on my way back up.

  “Fuck,” he breathed, his grip tightening on the back of my head. When he pushed me back down, I smiled inside. This was his way of taking control, but we both knew my mouth had all the power here.

  I fondled his heavy sack with my free hand and started learning his reactions. His body subtly told me what he liked and what he loved, and I used that knowledge to drive him to oblivion with my hands, my lips, and my tongue. His breathing grew heavy, and his grip turned nearly painful as he plunged deeper and deeper into my throat. I took every thrust, too exhilarated in his obvious fall into ecstasy to care that he was running the show now.

  When his movements turned erratic, I knew he was close, but then his hold loosened almost reluctantly. Oh, he’s giving me a chance to pull away . . . I sucked hard in response, silently reproaching him for even thinking I could want that, and moaned in approval when he retightened his grip. His sharp hiss lit my veins on fire, and when he followed it with a soft groan, my thighs clamped together. This was him coming undone, and I loved every fucking minute of it.

  His salty essence hit my throat in strong spurts that rivaled the man himself, and I swallowed it all, surprising myself probably almost as much as him. This was usually the part I disliked, but as with everything else surrounding Will, it had the opposite impact. I loved sharing this experience with him and knowing I had brought him to this point.

  My breasts were so painfully sensitive that I flinched when his knee brushed the stiff peak. His hands clamped down on my shoulders and pulled me upward so fast that my head spun and it took me a minute to realize he’d put me under him again. My mouth was suddenly too occupied by his to voice any sort of reaction to the abrupt shift. His tongue tangled roughly with mine, vying for dominance. I succumbed quickly, too turned on to deny him, and jolted when he tweaked my nipple.

  He silenced my cry with his lips and grinned. “And now it’s my turn.”

  His palm went to my thigh and drifted upward beneath my skirt to the place I wanted him most. He drew his finger along the middle of my thong, from my entrance up to my most sensitive point, and applied pressure slowly but firmly. I clutched his arms for support as shock waves exploded through my body. Not an orgasm, but pretty damn close, and it felt oh-so-good.

  “You’re soaked for me,” he whispered against my neck. “I fucking love that.” He slid my underwear aside to touch my flesh and slid his finger through my slick folds. “So hot, too. I can’t wait to be inside of you, Rachel. To thrust so deep that you feel me for days.” His masculine rumble had me quaking with a deep-seated need to see those words come to fruition. He pushed a finger inside of me while his thumb massaged my clit in delirious circles.

  “I’m going to take you gently at first, to memorize your moans of pleasure and to introduce you properly to my bed.” He demonstrated with his hand below, lightly prodding, and added a second finger. “Then, once you’re comfortable and ready, I’ll fuck you senseless.” He shoved both digits into me hard to punctuate his point and accepted my moan with his mouth. Sensual vibrations shook my nerves all the way down to my toes as he continued his pleasurable assault below.

  He hovered over me on his elbow and slid his fingers into my hair to angle my head for a more intense kiss. His tongue mimed his hand below, softly stroking me inside and mounting my pleasure with each seductive caress.

  My body moved, seeking more friction from his thumb, and he replied in kind, pressing down hard and circling in a way that had me seeing stars. I dug my nails into his shoulders as tension curled in my lower belly, tightening and quivering.

  Oh . . .

  Too much . . .

  So close . . .

  Can’t take it anymore . . .

  The orgasm hit me so soundly, so perfectly, throwing my head back and bowing my back off the bed. His palm covered my mouth, silencing the noises I couldn’t seem to stop as my body spasmed uncontrollably beneath him. It was even more intense than our first time together, and with it came a storm of unexpected emotion. The gravity of it paralyzed me, leaving me breathless beneath him.

  I liked him.

  Well and truly liked him.

  Which was pretty fucking obvious considering I’d just let him put his hand up my skirt, but this went deeper than physical attraction. My draw to him went beneath the surface, to the heart of the man hovering over me. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean with a groan of approval, then kissed me so hard that I forgot how to think.

  “Mmm, I can’t wait to properly taste you later,” he whispered against my lips. “You’re delicious.”

  Those words should have made me laugh, except I felt the same way about him. I could easily become addicted to his beautiful cock, if I wasn’t already.

  Will silenced my thoughts with another kiss, drugging me with his affections and luring me out of my head and back into the moment. It was so easy to follow him, to allow him to pull me under his spell and forget everything else.

  He took me to a place where liking him was safe.

  Where I didn’t have to worry about my past or my career.

  Where I could be happy and enjoy my life.

  Will’s world was a place where I could just be me.

  I closed my eyes sometime later with a smile not only on my lips but in my heart. There was no question. I liked him. And for the first time in a very long time, I wasn’t afraid to embrace it.

  20

  Oriental Lilies

  “Okay. This is amazing.” I slipped out of my heels to twirl around the giant living area and skipped over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Paris. First class had been a treat, but Will’s presidential suite took my awe to a whole new level.

  “I’ll be sure to pass your compliments on to Evan,” he replied from the foyer.

  I spun around to meet his amused gaze. “We need to explore. Now, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his nonexistent hat and winked. “Just as soon as I shower and change.”

  I groaned and waved at the windows. “But Paris.”

  “It’s only eight o’clock in the mornin’. We have plenty of time to sightsee and shop.” He kept mentioning that last word—shop. I still didn’t know why he insisted on it, but considering I only had a few outfits left, it seemed appropriate. I’d left all my dirty laundry at his house in a basket, waiting for me to take home later, which left my suitcase very empty. Thinking of my bags made me frown.

  “Where are my suitcases?” His were by the door.

  “In your room,” he replied as he pulled a key out of his pocket. “You’re across the hall.”

  “Oh.” Right. Of course. I’d followed him in here without even thinking. I held out my hand for the card but somehow found myself in his arms. He tilted my head back for a kiss that melted me from the inside out. This man certainly knew how to use his mouth.

  “You’re welcome to stay here, but I reserved you a room in case you preferred it, and also for business purposes.” He nuzzled his nose against mine and smiled. “There isn’t anything in the contract that forbids us from being together, but I’m guessing Baker Brown frowns upon their employees seducing clients.”

  I snorted. “I’m not the one doing the seducing here, Mershano.”

  “Those adorable stockings of yours and I disagree, Miss Dawson.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and let it go with a pop. “Now I desperately need a showe
r and to change. Your bags are in your room, but getting ready over there doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be sleeping there tonight.”

  I shivered at the promise in his words. “Tease.”

  He chuckled darkly. “Oh, I can’t wait to redefine that word for you later.” He gave my ass a squeeze before picking up his bag and heading up the stairs to what I assumed was the master bedroom. Mershano Suites was known for opulence, but this took elegance to a whole new level. I’d have to ask Sarah later how she was dealing with this lifestyle. Something told me she was surviving it just fine.

  An uncharacteristic giggle escaped me. This couldn’t be my reality. It seemed too fantastic, too happy, to be my life. Shaking my head, I slipped on my pumps and picked up my purse. My room was directly across from Will’s, just as he said, and I realized with a start that between the two of us, we owned the entire floor.

  “Filthy rich,” I muttered as I opened the door to a room that rivaled his own. “Ridiculously rich.” I knew the Mershanos had an insane amount of money, but to experience it was very different from just recognizing the family wealth. This was how Will grew up, yet he’d chosen to invest in a vineyard and a relatively modest home when he could have inherited a superior position with Mershano Suites and lived somewhere like this. Knowing that only made me respect him and his accomplishments more.

  I picked through my bags, leaving them near the door since I would most likely put them in his room later, and started toward the stairs. That’s when I noticed the giant vase of oriental lilies sitting on the foyer table. Odd. Will didn’t have that in his room. I set my clothes down on the bottom step and moved forward to investigate. Maybe the firm sent them? Or Will? But why? And how did they know my favorite flower? Were these even produced in France?

  A card sat elegantly beside it. I picked it up and froze at the familiar scrawl.

  Thinking of you, baby girl.

  Enjoy Paris, and good luck this week.

  Yours,

  Ryan

  I read it over and over and over again. He knew my hotel room and number. But worse than that, this card was handwritten by him. I would recognize his elegant script anywhere. Did he have it flown here with the lilies? Or worse . . . was he in Paris too?

  My legs gave out beneath me as I crumpled to the floor. What if he was staying in this hotel? Did Mershano Suites usually include a delivery receipt? Or a notice of being in the room? Was he here now, watching me react? My gaze darted around feverishly, and suddenly the suite felt far too big. He could be anywhere. In the bedroom, waiting for me, the bathroom, a closet . . .

  Fear paralyzed me, making it impossible to move, to even begin searching. Had he really tracked me down to Paris? Showing up unannounced at my apartment was bad enough, but this was full-blown obsession. How had he gone from leaving me alone for months to stalking me to another country? Did he suspect my feelings for Will?

  “Oh God,” I whispered.

  The first man I dated after Ryan was on inactive duty for only two months when he received a call requesting his return. I didn’t know much about the military, but I knew that wasn’t a coincidence, especially when Ryan left a note under my door saying, “What a shame. And I hear Afghanistan is particularly brutal right now.”

  My second date was more of a random one-night stand. A week after, I found a newspaper sitting on my coffee table with an article circled. The headline read, “Man Mugged near Millennium Park,” and the picture showcased the man I’d picked up from the bar. He was alive but hurt. Because of me.

  And now Will . . .

  Tears streamed down my cheeks. No. I couldn’t let anything happen to him. Not because of knowing me. It wasn’t fair. I clutched my stomach as sobs wracked my body so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I hated Ryan more than I ever had in that moment. More than the first time he hit me, or all the times he choked me until I submitted, or even the one time he knocked me out. The emotional torture was his worst punishment, had changed me irrevocably, but the fear of him hurting Will nearly killed me.

  I don’t just like him; I really like him, I realized. Maybe even love him.

  It hit me suddenly, so wholeheartedly, that my tears temporarily halted. I knew I liked him and cared for him, but it went so much deeper than that.

  My affection for him lived in a place inside me no one else had ever breached, even Ryan. Will had fought for me to trust him, to give myself to him wholly, and somehow he’d captured so much more of me than either of us expected. Or maybe he knew. Maybe he even felt the same. He’d more than proven that this was no simple game of affection for him; otherwise, I would have ended up naked beneath him two nights ago. And his comments in his bed and on the plane hinted at his unflinching commitment.

  My hands trembled as I pressed them into my temples and rocked on the floor. It didn’t matter how Will felt at this point. What mattered was how I felt and what I was willing to do to protect him.

  The obvious choice was to flee, to run back to Ryan and beg forgiveness. If I groveled enough, maybe he would let this mishap slide. I’d have to give up my position at the firm, and essentially my life, but it would keep Will safe. Love was about sacrifice, and I would make the ultimate one by giving up all semblance of happiness. But love could also be about strength and unity and trust.

  Trust.

  “You will trust again, Rachel.” Will’s words from the other night radiated through my heart. He said them with such conviction, such promise.

  He believes in me.

  But could I believe in myself?

  My tears dried as I lay there searching for the strength I needed. Reaching out for help always left me feeling inferior, like I couldn’t do it on my own and had to rely on others. But there was something to be said about recognizing when a situation went beyond one’s control and required assistance.

  Those flowers lurking above my head were an indication of just how out of control this situation had gotten already. Knowing that he might be in France, or in this very hotel, watching me? It was insane. He’d lost his ever-loving mind. Going back to him with my tail between my legs would only validate his actions. I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t survive it.

  I looked around the room, half expecting to see Ryan standing victorious over me, but found myself alone. My purse sat forgotten in the foyer near my suitcase. I crawled over to it, not caring at all how it destroyed my stockings. The card I wanted sat where I left it three years ago. I had no idea if the number still worked, but knowing Mark, it did. My hand trembled as I keyed each one into my cell. The call would cost a small fortune, being as it was overseas, but I had no other choice. I needed help, and something told me he knew this day was coming.

  It rang once before someone picked up without a greeting.

  “Mark?” Was that my voice? I sounded so broken. So scared. “Please tell me it’s you.” Because I wasn’t sure I had the strength or courage to make this call again.

  “Where are you?” His deep rumble had me weeping all over again.

  “Paris.”

  “Are you in immediate danger?”

  I looked around the empty room and shivered. “I d-don’t think so.” If Ryan were here, he would have come out of hiding already.

  “Give me five minutes,” he replied and hung up.

  21

  Courage to Tell All

  Will probably wanted to know what the hell was taking so long, but he didn’t press when I told him I needed another half hour. When Mark called me back precisely five minutes later, it was from another number I didn’t recognize. He let out a low whistle now after I finished telling him about the last month and the supposed wedding. I also told him about how Ryan handled my previous dates, and everything from the last few years.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. “I can’t let him hurt Will.”

  Mark was quiet so long that I thought I’d lost him. But a glance at the screen showed our connection was still active.

  “I’m going to need to do
some digging,” was his vague reply. “In the meantime, you need to tell Mershano what’s going on. If that psychopath is in Paris, which is a very real possibility, then he needs to be aware of the situation. You can’t keep all this to yourself anymore, Rachel.” He delivered that last line with reproach and served as the only indication that he was disappointed in me for keeping this to myself for so long.

  “He’s going to think I’m crazy.” Or worse. He could find me weak for dating Ryan.

  “No, he’s going to think you’re brave,” Mark corrected. “You’re asking for help instead of running back to Albertson like a coward.”

  His statement made me flinch. He and my brother were never ones to mince words, which I supposed was why they were best friends.

  “You were wondering why he’s upped his pursuit over the last month,” he continued. “Easy. His long-term-senator father is about to step down, and Ryan wants the job, but he needs a wife first. The voters love their family values, and his running as a bachelor isn’t going to look great. You’re a political move for him, and one he thinks he can control.”

  “Because I’ve let him control me all along,” I finished for him, wincing.

  “Yes, and no. Men like Albertson enjoy a good challenge. The minute you cave to his demands, he’ll get bored, but he also needs to rein you in and the clock is ticking, hence the desperation. And that makes a power-hungry man like him dangerous. You need to tell Mershano. He has the resources at his disposal to keep you safe; otherwise, I’d be on the next flight out.”

  “That’s asking a hell of a lot from him. I mean—”

  “No, it’s not,” he cut in. “You don’t seem to realize who you’re dating.”