by Aubrey Dark
“You had me followed to the art studio?” My nerves, already tightly-wound, screwed up another inch of tightness.
“There was nothing there that linked him to my brother in any way.”
“His name,” I said. “The man he had with him called him Sean.”
Jake winced at the name of his younger brother.
“He hired that man to help abduct you,” Jake said. “He might have told him any story about being my brother. He was paying him enough—”
“Why don’t you want to believe this?” I cried out finally.
There was a long pause. Jake looked angry for a moment, and I thought that I had stepped too far over the line into his personal family history. Then his face softened a bit.
“That man wasn’t my brother,” he said finally. “He got into your head. That’s all he wanted, was to lure me in there to give him the money. He had you, but he wanted to make sure I came and followed his rules. He didn’t know…”
“Didn’t know what?”
“All I care about is you. All I wanted was you. I didn’t expect to find anything else down there, and I didn’t need to.”
“But… but, your brother—”
“My brother’s dead, Lacey,” he said. He kissed me on the temple. “Please don’t worry about that man any more. I’ve hired on a better security team to escort you around Paris and keep close watch on you for the rest of the trip. And I have a private investigator who’s going to be looking into it for me. He’s better than any Parisian police we could ask for, trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I said softly. “I just want to know for sure…I mean, didn’t it seem like it was possible? He looked so much like you, and what he said—”
“There was a resemblance. That’s probably how he decided he was going to lure me in. I didn’t recognize him, Lacey.”
You didn’t see him in the light, I wanted to say. He looked just like you. He moved just like you.
But no. I wasn’t going to press Jake on this. It was the most sensitive topic, and he didn’t want to talk about it. Fine. He wasn’t interested in considering the possibility that Sean was, in fact, his brother. But I couldn’t stop considering the possibility.
“So we’re not going to the police?” I asked again.
“No,” Jake sighed.
“Even though he’s still out there? Both of them?”
“They were after money, and they got it. I’ll be working to reverse the bank transfer if I can, but that’s it. There’s no reason to go after them.”
“They’re criminals! They kidnapped me and held me for ransom! They—”
“Lacey, the only thing that will happen now if we go to the police is this: every newspaper in town will be at our doorstep, and we’ll both be plastered all over the front page. I can’t have that kind of negative publicity right now. I just can’t. Not with this negotiation halfway done.”
My shoulder slumped. Jake was right. I’d already messed up one day of his negotiations.
“I’ll stay in the hotel for the rest of the day,” I said. “I’m sorry I got sucked into this. I thought I was going to make an art deal with a collector!”
Fresh tears sprung to my eyes. Jake pulled me close.
“Lacey, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it anymore. I’ll make sure that you’re safe from those men.”
“Alright,” I said, hugging him back. I didn’t tell him what I thought—that it was possible, maybe even likely, that Sean was telling the truth. But I couldn’t push him to believe it.
I would have to find out myself. Somehow.
Jake left me in the bathroom and went to call someone. The private investigator, maybe. I stared at myself in the gilt-framed mirror.
Who was that man? Was he really Sean, Jake’s brother? If not, why would he have gone so far to make me believe it?
I shuddered when I thought of how he had touched me while I was painting. How he had guided my hand with his. Worse yet, I had enjoyed it. I’d enjoyed feeling so…
So desired.
It was the money he had desired, though, nothing else. I tried to remind myself. I tried to convince myself with Jake’s words ringing through my head. It had all been a trick. A ruse to lure Jake in, no matter what.
Well, it was a ruse that had worked on me. All of the tiny similarities seemed to come streaming together. Jake had only seen Sean once, in the dim light of the lantern deep down in the catacombs. And he hadn’t moved at all, not really. I was sure that if Jake could see him—
Forget it.
Yes, that’s what I should do. Forget it all. As Jake slipped back into the bathroom, he looked up at me with an expression of acute concern.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, suddenly worried again.
“Everything’s fine,” Jake said, his face twisting up with emotion. “The guards are set at the entrances to the hotel. It’s just that—oh, Lacey!”
He crossed the bathroom in two strides and swept me up in his arms.
“Jake… you’re crushing me!”
His arms squeezed the breath out of my lungs.
“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
He pulled back, and I saw the gleam of tears in his eyes.
“Jake?” My question was a whisper.
“Lacey,” he said, “I was so scared that I had lost you.”
Before I could say another word, his mouth was on mine.
“Ohh,” I murmured, as his mouth moved down to my neck. “I’m here now, Jake. I’m here with you.”
“And that’s where I’m going to keep you.”
I curled into Jake’s arms. I wanted to press every inch of myself into him, to erase all of the fear of the last twenty-four hours.
Jake turned and looked down at the white marble tub.
“I think we need a bath to take the stress out of the day,” Jake said. “What do you think?”
He reached down and turned the knob. Water poured into the tub, sending billowing clouds of steam up over the white marble.
“I think that sounds marvelous,” I said. I took off one strap of my dress, letting it fall down my shoulder.
Jake’s eyes softened. His shoulders relaxed. I drew my fingers along his cheekbone, tracing the jawline.
Like Sean’s.
No. I needed to forget about him.
Jake’s hands returned to my body, caressing my hips through the fabric. He pulled the hem of my dress up and cupped my lower back with his hands, smoothing them up and down my asscheeks.
“Ohhhh,” I moaned. His fingers slipped down between my thighs. I was ignited with a desire that had been pent up for too long.
“But first,” he said, pulling away, “I’m going to wash you.”
The water was hot, so hot that at first I gritted my teeth and sucked air in through my lips. But the heat soon washed through me, and I eased myself down into the tub. The white marble was cool against my skin, a nice contrast to the steaming water.
Jake slid behind me into the tub.
“Can I wash your hair?” he asked, picking up the shampoo bottle.
I nodded and slid down to give him easy access. My head lay in his lap, the hot water lapping at my cheeks.
“Close your eyes.”
It was dark. I thought of the catacombs, the terrible black tunnels. Then I thought of Sean’s eyes. So dark. What color were they underneath? Could they be green?
Jake washed the thoughts away with warm water. His fingers threaded through my hair, massaging my scalp.
“You feel so good,” I said.
“I want to make you feel good,” Jake said. “I want to wash this whole mess away.”
I felt bad for my thoughts. I wanted to know more, to dig deeper. I wanted to face the mess head-on. But Jake was trying so hard to make it disappear.
Hot water rinsed my hair. I felt everything melting away, melting into the tub. I opened my eyes. Jake smiled at me, a calm smile that made me think that everything was
going to be okay.
He slathered on conditioner from a coconut oil-scented bottle with a gold top. His hands worked the lotion through my scalp and I moaned in pleasure.
Along the top of the tub were fresh lilacs. I wondered if the housekeeping changed them out every day. I picked one up and twirled it in my finger.
The stalk was covered in hundreds of tiny, pale purple flowers. Some of the pink buds had not yet bloomed. They looked vaguely human, like a baby curled up into itself, waiting to be born. The open blooms were crosses of purple rimmed with the lightest pink.
I set down the bunch of flowers.
“Your next painting?” Jake asked.
I shook my head, looking at the reflection shadows in the surface of the bath water.
“I don’t know what I’m doing with my paintings,” I said. “When I pick up a brush lately, I feel so strained. I want to make my own ideas, but sometimes the ideas don’t show up. I never had that problem before.”
“You mean, back when you were a common subway vandal?”
I grinned.
“Yeah.”
His hands moved farther down, soaping my body. He cupped my breasts and rolled my nipples between his fingers. His thumbs grazed the stiffening peaks, slippery and wet with bathwater.
“Let’s forget about work, painting or otherwise,” Jake murmured. He pulled me up in the tub so that I was sitting in front of him. His cock throbbed up against my lower back.
He massaged my back and shoulders, kneading the muscles tenderly.
“Your hands…” I moaned.
They moved down to my stomach, pressing down on my hips. He eased me back so that I was lying back against his chest. His lips grazed my temple when I tilted my head back to him.
“God, Lacey,” he said, his hands curving over my skin underneath the water, “Your body is perfect.”
In response, I reached back and stroked the length of his cock. It stiffened further, pressing hard into my back.
“Ah!” he cried. He lifted my body up, buoyant in the water. Then he slid me back down, impaling me with the first part of his hard cock.
I groaned as he eased out of me, his hands gripping my hips to lift me up slowly.
His hands began to massage my front. One hand stroked farther down, his fingers spread on either side of my slit. I gasped as his thumb pressed down exactly there and began a hard, slow circle.
“Ohhhhh,” I cried.
He rolled his hips up into me, and a hoarse scream burst from my lips as he pressed into me from both sides. The ache in me rose to an unbearable pressure.
He eased out again, and the hollow pain of desire strummed through my body. I writhed in his slick grip.
“Now!” I gasped. “Please, now, now, now—”
He thrust up again and at the same time flicked his thumb over my swollen clit. White starbursts exploded in my vision as I came screaming over the edge.
I felt his cock stiffen as the orgasm jolted through my body. My fingers clutched white at the side of the tub and I shook with the waves of pleasure. Then I heard his breath catch, and his muscle throbbed inside of me.
“Ohh—” he moaned, and then his cock jumped. He held me tight as his body rocked into mine once, then again. I clenched tight around his rock-hard member, milking his desire out of him until the last gasp of his breath.
“Lacey.” He was breathless, and yet he whispered my name. The orgasm had come fast, and hit us both hard. We lay in the hot water, steam rising above us in a white cloud.
Wash this whole mess away.
A strange emotion floated up inside of me. A pang of intense curiosity. As much as I tried to suppress it, it wouldn’t go away. The art collector’s face hovered in my mind whenever I closed my eyes. And I had the feeling that there was no amount of soap that could wash this mess away.
Chapter Four
Jake was at business meetings all day. Instead of going out, I decided to stay in the hotel room. I was in no mood to get kidnapped again.
The security people standing outside my door were no relief. If anything, I felt caged inside the room. Caged anywhere. I didn’t want to be in Paris anymore. I wanted everything to be finished. Jake had promised me that we’d go sightseeing after his negotiations were finished, but I didn’t even want that—I wanted to go home.
I hadn’t talked with him about the woman I’d seen him with. After costing him ten million dollars, I didn’t feel like picking a fight. It was probably just some lawyer, anyway.
I sighed, thinking about Jake. I would sit quietly in my hotel room and not make any trouble for him.
After watching six hours of crazy French TV, though, I was ready to scream. Or jump out the window. Don’t get me wrong - the room service was great, and I gave myself a nice pedicure while finishing a book. But there was only so much to do in a hotel.
Worst of all, there was no art.
Back in NYC, I’d been doing a painting every day, sometimes two. I’d painted my ass off. Now, doodling concept sketches on hotel stationary wasn’t cutting it. I’d finished the hotel sketchpad and thrown it in the trash; none of my art was good, anyway.
I lay back on the bed and sighed.
Was this what life with Jake would be like? There was no struggle, no purpose. I could paint or not paint, and it still didn’t matter. The only art collectors who had an interest in me wanted to tie me up in a tunnel for ransom.
I looked over at my phone.
Sean had called me through that phone. I was pretty sure I still had the number saved.
No. What are you thinking?
Jake didn’t want to go to the police. He didn’t want anyone to know about my little kidnapping adventure. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to call Sean back to find out if he was really the long-lost brother he thought was dead.
But I had plenty of time on my hands. And I was curious.
I picked up the phone and scrolled through to find his number.
It’s probably delisted by now.
He won’t answer.
Regardless, I punched the dial button.
The phone rang on the other end, and I felt my nerves tingling. I heard a soft click and then it continued ringing. I was about to hang up when a voice suddenly answered.
“Lacey?”
I paused at hearing his voice again. He sounded so much like Jake—a deeper voice, but still the same timbre. The French accent was completely gone now.
“Sean?” I replied shakily.
“This number is untraceable, if that’s why you’re calling,” he said. “The call’s been forwarded to another unregistered cell phone.”
“I’m not trying to trace you.”
“Then why are you calling?”
I paused. Why was I calling? It wasn’t just that I was bored and stuck in a hotel room because of this guy. It wasn’t just that I was angry at him for stealing ten million dollars from Jake.
“Are you Jake’s brother?” I asked finally.
“That’s why you’re calling?”
“Yes,” I said. “I know you said you were his brother, but…”
“But what?”
“Was it just a lure? To get Jake to come alone?”
Laughter on the other end.
“You think that I would make up a crazy story just to get his attention?”
“Well,” I said, “it was ten million dollars—”
“I had you. I had his girlfriend. That was enough.”
“We’re not…” I trailed off. Jake had never told me that I was his girlfriend. He’d told me he loved me. He’d asked me to live with him. But we had never had that discussion.
“You’re telling me he doesn’t care about you?”
“I’m not saying that,” I said. “He cares, of course he cares.”
“He cares ten million dollars, at least.”
“That’s nothing for him.” I said the words absently, but I remembered how angry I’d been when he told me that money meant nothing to him. Of cour
se money meant nothing to someone who had lots of it.
“You’re right, in part,” Sean said breezily. “I thought he would be more likely to come in person instead of sending someone in his place. I wanted to meet him.”
“So you are his brother?”
“Yes.”
“What… can you prove it?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“Why? Because you’re his brother!”
“As far as I’m concerned, he’s just another billionaire asshole looking to protect his money. He didn’t seem particularly anxious to meet me when I told him we were related.”
“That’s because he didn’t believe you!”
“And you believe me?” Sean asked.
I stopped and thought for a moment.
I did. Without a doubt, I believed. And I thought that if Jake had seen Sean in the light—if he had taken even a second to consider his claim, then he would believe, too. It wasn’t just how he looked, although their builds and faces looked similar. It was the way he talked, the way he moved.
“Yes,” I said, letting out a breath. “I believe you.”
“Then let me ask you once more. What do you want?”
“I want you to talk to Jake again,” I said. The answer had come to me out of the blue, but I thought that it made sense.
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Jake doesn’t have a family,” I said. I thought of my brothers, Tim and Connor. I thought about them tumbling through corn fields together. “You’re his family. He doesn’t know what it’s like. I want him to know what it is to have a brother.”
“He doesn’t want a brother like me,” Sean said. I thought I heard a note of sadness in his voice.
“If you’re his brother, I know he would want to meet you.”
“I’ve met him. We’ve met. He hated me, I think, for taking his money.”
“He didn’t believe you were his brother.”
“Does that change things?” Sean laughed at the other end of the phone. “Doesn’t that make it worse, if it’s his brother who did this to him?”
“I just want you to talk to him,” I said, not bothering to hide my desperation.
“How do I know it’s not a trap?”
“You don’t. Look,” I said, the plan coming together quickly in my mind. “You call me and tell me a place, and I’ll bring him there right away. No police, no escorts.”