Because He Plays Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Seven)

by Hannah Ford

  “Usually once a week. Sometimes more depending on what we’re working on.”

  I could feel my chest growing tighter. “So statistically you’re at a greater risk of crashing because you fly more. Are there parachutes on this plane?” Not that I’d have the first idea how to use one.

  Warm fingers rested on my hand. “Skylar, look at me.” The commanding tone in his voice made it impossible to do anything but lift my gaze. I saw concern and compassion glittering in his eyes. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear.”

  The plane bumped down the runway and I glanced out the window. The runway was moving past faster now. “But what if…”

  He squeezed my hand. “Eyes on me.” His thumb stroked over my wrist where my pulse hammered. I looked at him again. “Do not look away,” he said. The plane’s engines revved higher and then I was pressed back against my seat as it picked up speed, racing down the runway.

  “Do you like to skinny dip?’ he asked.

  I shook my head. “I’ve never done it.”

  A devilish grin spread over his lips. “We will remedy that this weekend. There’s nothing like swimming with the feel of water against your bare skin. I think you’d quite like it.” He lifted my hand and I could only watch as he pulled it to his mouth and pressed his lips to my palm. His tongue came out and seared my skin.

  It took enormous effort not to close my eyes and sink into the sensation. The black in his eyes grew bigger and thick eyelashes shadowed his cheeks every time he blinked. It was crazy, the way my body responded to his touch. He must have seen it too, because his nostrils flared and his free hand came to rest on my thigh. As he slid it slowly upward, my legs trembled and parted slightly. I had no control over my reaction. He was the puppet master and I was just the marionette.

  He turned my hand and pressed his lips to my wrist then set it back on my armrest. The hand that had been snaking up my thigh fell away. His jaw clenched and he stared out the window before his gaze pinned me to my seat.

  “Are you always this responsive?” he all but demanded. “Is a touch all it takes and you’re ready for any man?” His voice was strained and harsh, but not as harsh as his words.

  I pulled back as far as the seat would let me. The heat from a few moments earlier was gone, replaced by a cold feeling seeping into my bones.

  “I asked you a question, Skylar.”

  I glared at him as a strange sense of vulnerability whispered over my skin. I’d never reacted to any man like this before, not with such an intense desire from just a touch, and I didn’t understand it. How was I supposed to explain it to him? “It’s a question that doesn't even deserve an answer,” I said.

  “I want an answer. Is it my touch that makes your breath catch and your nipples hard? Or could it be anyone with his hands on you? The truth.”

  “What does it matter?” I managed, feeling equally pinned by his questions and his gaze.

  His entire body was tensed and vibrating with something I couldn't figure out. One minute he was playing me like a violin, and the next, it was almost as if I had disappointed him. I had no idea what he wanted.

  He was still waiting for my answer to his question, and he wouldn’t be denied.

  “Not that I’ve had much of a chance to explore it, but no, I do not normally react like this to anyone, much less a stranger,” I finally admitted. “I’m sure you’re used to having women melting under your touch every second of the day, but that has never been me. So the answer you want? It’s you and I have no idea why.” My admission hung in the air between us.

  The tightness left his muscles and I watched him visibly relax. Satisfaction rolled off him in waves. He wanted the answer to be him? I tried to see into his eyes, but he appeared to have himself under control again.

  “The table is ready, Sir,” Gretchen said from behind me. “If you both would follow me please.”

  I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood. Madden came up behind me and laid his hand on my hip as we walked the few feet to the table. I could feel him at my back, the heat coming from him enveloping me in that hazy warmth and fought the urge to lean against him.

  Gretchen held out a chair for me and I sat. The table was worthy of a five star restaurant, set with white china plates that had delicate red scrolls along the edges. A cup of fruit, artfully arranged, had been placed on the center of the plate and a napkin folded into a swan sat in front of it. A fluted glass had been filled with orange juice.

  Madden took his seat and nodded to Gretchen who moved out of the room. It was like watching a choreographed dance and everyone except me knew the moves. I took my napkin off the plate and spread it across my lap.

  Yesterday, if anyone had said I’d be on a private jet flying to a private resort with an achingly handsome man, I’d have laughed my head off. Madden raised his glass and I lifted mine.

  “To memorable weekends,” he said.

  They clinked together and I took a sip. It was the best orange juice I ever had in my life. It was also the best fruit, like each bite had been selected at exactly the right moment of ripeness. Bursts of sweet strawberry and mango and pineapple coated my tongue. When I had finished, I was half tempted to tip the cup up and drink the juice in the bottom.

  Gretchen appeared out of nowhere and whisked away the empty bowls, then set a silver tray in front of each of us. With a delicate flick of her wrist, she took the tops off and was again gone.

  The aroma hit me first and my stomach growled so loud it could be heard over the engines.

  “Lobster omelet with a light cream sauce and prosciutto wrapped asparagus spears. If anything is not to your liking I can have Gretchen make whatever you’d like.”

  I inhaled again before picking up my fork. The first bite was heaven. Pure blissful heaven. I should have taken the time to marvel at how the cream sauce played with the flavor of the lobster without overpowering it, or how the saltiness of the prosciutto married perfectly against the slight bitterness of the asparagus, but my mouth was already hungrily gobbling the incredible food.

  “It was acceptable then?” Madden asked with a lifted eyebrow and an amused smile.

  I looked down and saw that my plate was empty. “Delicious, thank you.”

  Once again Gretchen appeared and took our plates. “Would you like a cappuccino or a latte, Miss?”

  This just kept getting better. “Cappuccino would be great, thank you.” Gretchen smiled at me then turned to Madden. “Your usual, Sir?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I stared out the window at the miles of blue sky. Aside from the initial panic at takeoff, I hadn’t given a thought to the fact that I was hundreds of miles above Earth. It probably helped not to be wedged between a screaming baby and a man wearing too much cologne.

  I glanced at Madden from under my eyelashes. This man smelled amazing. Just the mix of cologne and him. Every time he got close I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and inhale.

  “Here you are.” Gretchen set down our coffee and a plate of tiny bite sized cakes that had been elaborately decorated. This taste of how the other half lived was going to be very hard to give up after the two days were over. I took a mini layer cake and popped it into my mouth. Chocolate. God that was good.

  “The agency said that you have a dual degree in Marketing and Accounting and that you graduated recently with a 4.0,” Madden said, pinning me with his stare. “So why is someone with that kind of pedigree cleaning toilets?”

  The bite of cake turned to sawdust in my mouth. I took a large gulp of coffee to wash it down. No way was I going to spill the truth to him. “I guess I’m trying to figure out what to do next before I commit to anything.”

  “The job offer from McKeller and Associates wasn’t good enough? They’re one of the best firms in the Northeast. Junior Associate would have paid a lot better than janitor. You wouldn't have to worry about sleeping in your car. Or eating.”

  “How do you know all that?” I said.

  And did he know the
rest of it? Was he just toying with me to see which way I’d jump?

  Deep-seated dread filled my muscles. What if he’d somehow found out why I’d left Maine? Even worse, what if Jacob had somehow put something on my record. I hadn’t thought about that until this very minute. Being a detective, he could have easily said just about anything; that I was a wanted criminal, that I had outstanding parking tickets. I waited, my breath in my throat, for Madden to demand to know why there was a warrant for my immediate arrest.

  None of it would have surprised me. Jacob was capable of anything, which was why I’d run so fast and so far. But I needed to get further away still.

  “Did you think I’d spend a weekend with someone I knew nothing about? What if you were a dangerous criminal?” Madden said, his expression giving away nothing.

  Blood drained from my face. The breakfast I enjoyed so much threatened to come back up. I had nowhere to go, no escape. I watched Madden carefully, waited for him to accuse me of something terrible.

  “I’m not a criminal,” I mumbled, feeling like I was, somehow. A criminal. A liar. Someone not worthy of his trust.

  “So why did you leave a promising job and come to Boston?” He appeared to be relaxed as he drank his espresso, but I could see the astuteness in his eyes. It was no wonder he’d made a fortune in business. Authority radiated from him, even when he wasn’t trying to intimidate. I had a feeling that Madden Cross never missed anything going on around him.

  “Don’t we all have skeletons in our closets?” I said, meeting his hard gaze.

  His entire body tensed, and for a second, I thought he was going to break the table in half the way his hands were gripping the edge. He looked away then and stared out the window and his jaw flexed. Several minutes passed and I said nothing. Little by little, his hands loosened. The harsh planes of his relaxed, though they were still chiseled as if he were made from stone.

  I waited for more questions. Madden turned his gaze back to me. His stare seemed to pierce right through to the depths of everything I was and I shifted in my seat. I felt like a specimen under a microscope. But then the look changed, and what I saw made me shift for an entirely different reason.

  This man could switch from hot to cold in a blink.

  He stood and held out his hand. I took it with my pulse pounding in my ear. Was this it? He’d said there was a bedroom on the plane. This was, after all, why I was with him this weekend. He ran his thumb over the inside of my wrist, then let my hand go.

  “I’ve got some business to attend to. Feel free to explore, or eat more or even rest if you’d like,” Madden said.

  I sat down on the couch across from where he sat with his laptop open. Sunlight streamed through the window and he seemed to glow. I chuckled to myself and it hit me just how tired I was. Maybe just a small nap, just a few minutes.

  My eyes fluttered momentarily closed, and then I was startled into alertness by a loud female voice.

  “Ms. Kinsey. I need you to take your seat please. We’re getting ready to land.” Gretchen gently shook me until I opened my eyes.

  “Land?” I asked, blinking. “How long was I asleep?”

  “An hour and twenty minutes to be precise,” Madden said from his seat. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?” he said, a little grin playing around his lips.

  Mortification washed over me and I dropped my head onto my hands. “I talked in my sleep? What did I say?”

  “Nothing intelligible,” Madden chuckled. “Maybe next time I’ll get the answers I was looking for.”

  “Well you’re awake now and if you would please fasten your seatbelt, we’ll see about touching down?” Gretchen asked sweetly.

  I moved over to my seat and pulled the belt around my waist. Every time I looked up, I could see the amusement on Madden’s face.

  “A gentleman would have woken me instead of letting me make a fool out of myself,” I said, tilting my chin up.

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Sweetheart, I am nowhere near a gentleman.”

  I believed it.

  Fifteen minutes later the plane rolled to a stop and Gretchen pushed open the door. Madden stood and waited for me to step in front of him before he laid his hand on my lower back again.

  “I hope you had a nice flight, Ms Kinsey,” Gretchen said with a smile.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said to her.

  Madden guided me out the door and down the steps. A sleek black SUV waited a dozen feet away. A man leaned against the side, and he pushed off as we got closer. “Morning, Sir. Do you have bags today?”

  “Yes, there are three.” The man nodded and jogged over to the plane. He came back moments later with three black bags. I didn’t see mine anywhere.

  “There’s one more,” I said.

  The man shook his head. “’Fraid that this was all there was.”

  “There were only two of us on that plane. How is it possible to lose someone’s luggage? I saw your driver carry it to…” I narrowed my eyes on Madden. “Did he take my bag to the plane?”

  “Apparently not. I’ll have to have a talk with him about that.” Except Madden looked anything but irritated. In fact, he looked quite amused.

  “Is this your way of keeping me naked all weekend?” This was just great. I had nothing with me except for what I had on. At least there wouldn't be any real guests since the place was getting remodeled.

  “I like the way you think, Ms Kinsey. Dinner may prove a bit awkward, but we are a forward thinking resort—I don’t imagine the others will take offense.” He leaned in very close. “I know I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

  I was still stuck on his other words. “People? You said the resort was undergoing remodeling.”

  “It is. We are adding a new building on the west side of the property. The rest is running as usual.”

  I looked down at my faded jeans. “I’m not leaving the room for two days.”

  His grin turned wolfish. “Fine by me.”

  Chapter 3

  The view from our room was breathtaking.

  And I had a feeling that Madden’s suite had the best of everything this place had to offer. I stepped out onto the balcony.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, knowing that was a huge understatement.

  “That’s the idea,” Madden commented from inside the room.

  The bright blue ocean stretched as far as I could see, not a cloud in the sky. It wouldn’t surprise me if Madden had ordered the weather to be perfect. I felt him approaching behind me even though he had yet to touch me. My body came alive, hyper aware that he was only inches from me.

  I craved his hands on me in a way that took my breath away.

  Without thinking, I wrapped my fingers around the wrought iron railing and arched my back.

  He lifted my hair and moved it off one shoulder, then slid the edge of my peasant blouse down to expose the skin there. Goose bumps sprang up and my skin got tighter. He did nothing and my breath hitched in my chest. He was the most potent kind of aphrodisiac and it was killing me oh so slowly.

  I tilted my head a fraction, offering myself to him. Hot breath washed over my neck and a low groan tore from my throat. My knuckles were white and I pushed my ass back until I felt the hardness of his cock pressing against my lower back. I needed him more than I needed air at that moment.

  “I am going to enjoy making you come apart over and over again,” he murmured in my ear. “With my tongue. With my cock. Every time you do, I want to hear you scream my name. Is that clear, Skylar?”

  He had yet to touch me and I was wet and throbbing with need. His voice, his words, did something to me. If he touched me now I would scream his name across the entire ocean.

  “Yes,” I said hoarsely. My hips moved involuntarily against the hardness in his jeans. Did he want me to beg? I never had before in my life, but I would.

  “I’ve got meetings until late afternoon. Isabella is waiting in the lobby and she’ll take you shopping. She knows what you need but you sh
ould know,” he ran his lips down the column of my neck, turning my legs to jelly, “that black lace drives me fucking insane.”

  It wasn’t until cool air washed over my overheated skin that I realized he was gone. I looked over my shoulder and the room was empty. How long had I been standing there like that?

  My fingers ached from gripping the rail so tight and I forced them to relax.

  He was trying to kill me. That was the only explanation. I sucked in several deep breaths of air. My skin still buzzed with awareness even though he was gone now.

  “If teasing were an Olympic Sport, you’d win a gold medal Madden Cross,” I said to the empty room. If I had known this was what I was getting into when I agreed to his offer, I might have said no.

  A soft knock came from the door to the room. When I crossed and opened it, a tiny woman stood there with a bright smile. Her grey hair was cropped short and framed her face beautifully. She had on a teal blue jacket and cream pencil skirt. Five inch teal heels pulled the entire outfit together.

  She stuck out her hand. “I’m Isabella, Ms. Kinsey. Mr. Cross asked me to help you pick out evening attire for your stay. I have the town car waiting if you’re ready?”

  I shook her hand and noticed how ragged my nails looked next to her perfect manicure. As soon as I dropped her hand I curled my fingers into my palms.

  “I’ve also scheduled you for a massage, mani-pedi and a hair appointment before dinner. I believe Mr. Cross is meeting you there at six. Shall we go?” The whirlwind that was Isabella guided me down the steps to a waiting car before I could protest.

  A chauffeur opened the door for us and she slid in effortlessly. I climbed in behind her.

  “I’ve called ahead to the boutique and asked them to set aside a couple of dresses I think will be perfect for you. Mr. Cross mentioned you had green eyes, but he didn’t say how stunning they were. There is a dress that just came in last week that will be amazing.” Isabella typed quick notes into her phone as she talked.

  When had Madden planned all this? It was only last night that I agreed to come with him. He must have sent instructions right after that. Did he do this with all the women he brought here, or was it obvious that I would have had nothing appropriate?