Julianne’s eyes went wide with panic, but when she raised her head; her expression was blank, almost serene. She kissed the leather.
Damn it. Instead of fighting back, she slipped farther into herself. He couldn’t allow that. He had to obliterate the hard-taught belief that she was powerless.
He leaned in very close to her face and ran a finger along the braid. “He averaged about ten strikes. What do you say we work our way up from there?” His voice was unrecognizable even to his own ears.
The callous words had the desired effect of dredging the worst of Julianne’s suffering to the surface. She gagged and her hands shot over her mouth. He winced at the acrid taste filling his, but said nothing.
“Do you want me to beg, Nicolai?” Disillusionment resounded in her words.
He gripped her chin forcing her to look into fierce eyes. “No. I want you to say no. What you’re feeling right now is a hard limit. A lover accepts limits. An abuser does not. I am your lover. Until you are able to express your limits openly to me, the playroom is locked.”
No other words passed between them.
As they drove into the night, Nicolai struggled with the weight of his responsibility to Julianne. He did what he had to do, but it cut his confidence to the core. It was hard enough dealing with his own doubts about his ability to reconcile his lifestyle with her past. Seeing that reaction only made it harder. And he was still angry with himself over what happened the last time he tried to move them forward. He shuddered thinking of her reddened skin after he bound her. Perhaps he should have told her to remain still or used a softer rope until she learned to deal with the bind. He didn’t know. Years in the life and suddenly, he just didn’t know.
Didn’t know how to move forward.
Didn’t know how long he could hold back.
And certainly didn’t know how long he and Julianne could go on like this without attracting Xavier’s notice.
*****
Alphonse hurried into his office and shut the door behind him, wiping the sweat off his chest with a towel as he went.
He took a deep breath before lifting the receiver. “Good evening, Xavier. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
*****
“Hey, you.”
Jerard threw his legs over the side of the bed and put a hand over his mouth to muffle his voice. “Julí? Is that you?”
“Of course, it’s me.” She cleared her throat loudly, “Losing your virginity doesn’t change your voice, does it?” and giggled at her own joke.
He swallowed the urge to curse Nicolai as he hurried from the room. “I didn’t think I would hear from you again, you know, with you moving in with Nicolai and me being such a jerk. Is everything okay?”
“No. I miss my friend and want him back. I know. This is the part where you beat yourself up. Blah, blah, blah. You’re not a jerk, Jerard. You’ve been busy, so have I. Cut the guilty routine and tell me where we can meet for coffee. I want every juicy detail about your meeting with Darion LeClair.”
Jerard smiled into the phone. He hadn’t lost her. Maybe Julianne would never be his lover, but for the moment, he didn’t care. His friend was back in his life.
“Somehow I think your details will be juicier. How about Café de Flore in an hour?”
“I’ll see you there, Jerard. I can’t wait.”
He dropped his phone on the nightstand, flopped onto the bed and threw his arm over his eyes.
“Was that who I think it was?” Jacques rolled over to nestle against him, leaving Sarah groaning in her sleep.
“Uh-huh. She wants to see me. She sounded so happy.” He was stiff as an oak.
Jacques leaned up on one elbow and lifted his arm. “Nico will take excellent care of Julianne, Jerard. You don’t have to worry about her anymore. He’s a good man, I promise. Her happiness shouldn’t surprise you.”
Jerard kept his eyes glued to the ceiling as if there was a naked women painted on it. “It doesn’t. What surprises me is that I’m actually happy for her. I should be crazy jealous, but I’m not. I guess I really don’t know myself at all.” He didn’t look at Jacques as he spoke. The words weren’t directed at him.
Jacques looked up to see what was so interesting. “Why do artists make things so complicated? You love her, so her happiness makes you happy. Simple.” He rolled onto his back. “Mademoiselle Giroux must be quite a woman. I’m chomping at the bit to get my hands on Nico’s femme fatale. I meet her tonight at his opening.”
“What the fuck do you mean by ‘get your hands on her’?” Jerard was sure as hell looking at Jacques now.
Jacques kept his eyes straight up and grinned. “Are you seriously asking me that question? Nico and I have shared hundreds of women. It’s his favorite kink. Mine too. You of all people should know that by now. Did you actually think I was going to let Nico keep the one woman who captured his heart all to himself?”
There were so many responses to that statement. Jerard should be shocked, disapprove, object in some way, but his honest reaction was undeniable. He couldn’t believe these words were going to come out of his mouth, but he said them anyway. “Do you think Nicolai would share Julí with me?”
Jacques turned with delight sparkling in his eyes, “Jerard, you naughty boy,” and rolled right on top of him. “I suppose the two most significant men in Julianne’s life should kiss and make up at some point,” he mused playfully. “I’ll work on it.”
“I’m not gay, Jacques,” Jerard blurted.
Jacques laughed, “Neither am I, Jerard. Neither am I,” and kissed him, square on the lips. “All we need to perfect this friendship is one sweet, soft, curvy female to fall head over heels in love with both of us.”
They both looked at Sarah. Neither had to say it. She was beautiful and fun, but she wasn’t the one.
“That’s what you want, Jacques? A love affair with me and someone like Julí.” The idea enthralled him.
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I want. Except she’ll have red hair.” Jacques smiled, but there was so much sadness in his face.
“What?”
“I’ve been searching for a long time, Jerard. Not everyone is as lucky as Nico.” There was a dull resignation in his voice.
Jerard touched Jacques’s face to pull him from all that sadness. “Don’t give up on your dream, Jacques. She’s out there. Together we’ll find her. I promise.”
Jacques gave him the most gorgeous, genuine smile.
He nipped Jacques’s shoulder and lifted his chin toward Sarah. “So, any suggestions about what we should do for the next forty-five minutes?”
17
The Opening
The gallery burst to life as the beautiful people of Paris gathered to mingle and flirt among the art.
Layers of sophisticated voices and laughter merged together like musical notes as gossip was shared and deals struck. Champagne flowed into crystal flutes. Hors d’oeuvres disappeared from silver trays. The dashing host circulated among his guests, smiling, chatting and looking more beautiful than his art in his Tom Ford tuxedo.
Julianne stood alone at the back near a free-form piece called The Essence of Woman. Nothing hoity-toity to say about this one; it looked like a cat. Nicolai did not appreciate that comment and they’d debated the interpretation of his sculpture almost constantly since. Dom or no Dom, there was nothing submissive about her when it came to art. Nicolai had spent months making sure of that.
The glitterati paraded before her. Businessmen with their perfectly preserved wives, representatives from the art world, the theater, even a few pop stars du jour, had all come together to look, and hopefully, to buy. The debate among the critics had already begun in earnest in the upper gallery where Nicolai’s newest photographs were displayed. Love it or hate it, they would all write about it. Nicolai would surely be pleased. As successes went, this one was huge.
He’d surprised her with a stunning, Giorgio Armani Privé creation and she stood out even amidst the glittering t
hrong. Silver silk shimmered over her curves, running down her skin with the intimacy of flowing water to pool at her feet. Bejeweled straps drew the liquid fabric tight across her breasts and crisscrossed over a plunging back. Her fingers trailed over the silk while she sipped her champagne.
Despite the dress and the festive mood, Julianne was brooding. Although Nicolai swore she was perfection, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong between them. Maybe she was crazy. Every time the man touched her, he gave unspeakable pleasure. He’d conditioned her body to respond so readily to him that she couldn’t even stand in the same room without dripping with aroused anticipation. Still, the sense that his pleasure wasn’t complete nagged her.
She supposed she had no right to judge, but she resented the fact that Nicolai was holding so much back. More with each passing day. She didn’t know how she knew it, she just did. Adding her to his life caused him to lose something important about himself and she couldn’t accept that. If he couldn’t be all he was with her, then he shouldn’t be with her. Not that she would let him go. She wanted to talk, but every time she opened her mouth, doubt toyed with her mind and she closed it. Expressing herself directly, well, she sucked at direct. But she was smart. She would find her path.
Something in the air shifted. Julianne turned to see Jacques Meszaros enter from the far side of the gallery. No introduction necessary, the man was unmistakable. A dark predator, dressed from head to foot in shades of black, he sailed through the crowd with cool elegance. Their eyes locked and she felt his approach, the immediate connection between them, palpable, urgent, making her insides quiver.
When he reached her, he didn’t speak, only gave her a long, unnerving stare that had her licking her lips. Tempted by his mysterious allure, she leaned toward him and inhaled leather and the richer, more secretive scent of his skin. In response, he slipped a hand along the slope of her neck and entwined his fingers in the fall of her hair. The other hand feathered against the front of her throat. The contrast was dizzying. Her stomach flipped.
Jacques lowered his head and rubbed his open mouth against her ear. “At last, I meet the muse.”
She closed her eyes on a soft moan when he caught the lobe between his teeth.
“Tell me, Julianne. Have you anticipated me as much as I have anticipated you?”
The question touched her in deep, hidden places.
Without releasing her hair, Jacques slid his hand up her neck and gripped her jaw. His lips brushed over hers, sampling. She hesitated, pressing her lips together, but couldn’t move her head. She put a hand to his chest, shaken by how much she wanted his kiss, and tried to push him away. He smiled, secrets playing in his eyes, and tightened his hold.
She went still.
Jacques’s mouth roamed her face. When his lips returned to hers, she opened to him. His kiss was erotic; his taste, exotic. This man wasn’t sexy with a capital “S.” He was sex personified.
When Jacques lifted his gaze, she shuddered. There was a playful glint in his copper eyes, but something darker lay behind it. She shifted back to focus on his face. The decadent invitation she saw there had her heart racing.
“Oh,” she managed and he flashed a knowing grin.
“I see you’ve met my cousin.” Nicolai whispered from behind.
The calm approval in his tone was puzzling given that he had, no doubt, witnessed their passionate kiss. Julianne’s pulse became thick in her throat, her body tingling with awakening remorse.
How could I have kissed another man like that?
Before guilt and shame could solidify in her gut, she felt herself being passed smoothly, lovingly, from Jacques’s embrace into Nicolai’s. There was no harshness or jealousy as Nicolai sought her mouth with parted lips. His hand cupped the side of her face and he kissed her. When he pulled back, he smiled. The way only her wolf could.
“Oh. Oh my”
Nicolai’s arms reached around her shoulders as Jacques’s hands came to rest on her hips. Nicolai held her between them as he leaned in to kiss his cousin. Jacques’s body pressed against her back as he returned the greeting.
All at once Julianne became very much aware that she was sandwiched between two powerfully seductive men. Their intimacy with each other flowed through her. The heat of their bodies, their mingling smells and the movement of their limbs made her flush with unexpected feelings.
“Jacques is a naughty one, isn’t he?” Nicolai said with a soft reprimand in his tone. She thought it might be meant for her until he added, “I’ve waited a long time to see that kiss.” Then he lowered his voice so it drove into her with thrilling impact. “Would you enjoy it, Beauty, if I shared more of what is mine with my cousin?”
The suggestion conjured erotic images of the three of them locked together in a far more intimate embrace. Some wild part of her imagined their mouths on her body, their hands touching her, loving her in a ménage of passion. Shocking, wanton images flooded her mind. Jacques behind her, gripping her hips as he thrust into her. Nicolai in front, holding her chin as he slid into her mouth. She squirmed and closed her eyes trying to shut out the barrage.
“Who’s the naughty one now? I believe Julianne’s answer is yes,” Jacques purred against her ear.
Nicolai trailed his fingers over her bare back as her body hummed with decadent fascination. A dark look passed between the men and she knew. They’d shared a woman before.
Many times before.
Could she actually do that? Make love to two men? Submit to two Masters? Her good-girl screamed, “oh, no,” just as the woman in the silver dress sighed, “oh, yes.”
She felt her lips part, her mouth go dry, as the whispered words escaped, “I am yours to share, Nicolai.”
The tension simmering in the air thickened, choking her with the heavy undercurrents whipping through it. She searched Nicolai’s eyes and for a split second, they connected. She could see it in his face, the dark passion he kept leashed, the hunger, the desire, the depth of which she hadn’t fully appreciated until this moment. Once again, it flared and in the blink of an eye was gone.
Julianne startled when a leggy blonde in a barely-there mini dress sailed up to them.
“Daaaahhhrling. You absolutely must come with.” She gave Julianne a derisive sniff as she wrapped her talons around Nicolai’s arm and tugged.
The debonair host flashed his paparazzi smile and allowed himself to be lured away. When the woman turned, content that she’d snared her catch, Nicolai shot a warning look at Jacques.
“We’ll continue this conversation later.”
Jacques wrapped both arms around Julianne and bent to press his cheek against hers, taunting Nicolai with a smirk. If looks could kill, Jacques would have dropped on the spot.
After Nicolai left them alone, Julianne huffed, “Who does that harpy think she is, pawing at him like that?”
“Sheath those claws, mon chaton. It’s only business and it gives us a chance to talk.”
Jacques spun her in his arms and captured her gaze. Her mind blanked. When this man wanted a woman’s full attention, he took it.
God, that's sexy.
When she could think again, she remembered that she did want to talk with Jacques alone so she mustered her courage and proceeded with a boldness she didn’t recognize. “Why is Nicolai holding back from me, Jacques?”
For a moment Jacques said nothing and she tried to read his expression. He grinned as if recognizing her attempt and said, “We see more than those innocent eyes suggest, don’t we, kitten? What do you think he’s holding back?” When she didn’t reply, his voice became stern. “You want to know. Ask."
Piercing eyes challenged as she formulated the question. “You’ve shared a woman before?"
“I believe you know the answer to that,” Jacques replied flatly, his tone impatient.
Drawing a deep breath, she said, “Nicolai wants to share me with you. I saw it in his eyes. Or I think I did. Sometimes I think I see something and then i
t disappears. Maybe I’m imposing my own fantasies on him. I just don’t know and it is driving me crazy.”
Jacques’s eyes widened a bit before he resumed a bland expression and asked, “The thought of two men excites you, kitten?”
She nodded.
Forget being excited, she was proud. She’d been honest and it felt amazing. Cher Dieu. J'ai été honnête! Honest about wanting Jacques in a ménage with Nicolai. The blood ran into her cheeks so hot, the blush burned.
Jacques stroked a finger over her heated cheeks and lifted her chin. “I’m beginning to see why my cousin is so fascinated by you, Julianne,” he said, studying her face, “and you’re not wrong about him. Ménage is one of his favorite kinks. My cousin, the artist voyeur.” He laughed at his own joke.
The artist voyeur. Julianne’s mind drifted, titillated by the thought, until a finger tapped her cheek to bring her focus back to the man speaking to her.
Jacques’s eyes narrowed as if to say she should think seriously about what he was about to tell her. “You have a responsibility to tell Nico what you want, Julianne. If you do, he will give it to you. I promise.” He reached for her shoulders. “Come here. I’ll help you get started.”
Before she could react, Jacques opened his long leather coat and pulled her flush against his body between the lapels. She could see Nicolai over his shoulder watching them as he feigned interest in some random conversation.
“Do not move.”
Jacques’s words pierced right through her. When this man gave a command, there was no denying it. She stood stock still as he slipped a discreet hand into the side of her dress and cupped the underside of her breast.
“I cannot wait to feel these beautiful tits bob in my hands while I fuck you from behind.”
The low timbre of his words touched her as surely as the hand inside her dress. Jacques strummed his thumb across her nipple until it rose to meet his intimate attention. Then he turned his head, very deliberately redirecting her attention.
She glanced over his shoulder to meet Nicolai’s gaze. Desire, crackling hot and sharp, sizzled between them as they locked eyes across the crowded room. The feel of another man’s hands on her body while her lover watched created an amazing intensity that nothing else matched. Nicolai liked to watch and, God help her, she wanted him to.
Masterpiece (The Masters of The Order Book 1) Page 23