She reached up and touched his face, tracing her fingers lightly across his jaw, fingering his beard. She sighed and reached up to place a chaste kiss against his neck, pressing her plush lips against the cords of his throat and breathing hotly. He stiffened, his jaw clenching and his cock growing instantly hard against the fabric of her damn dress. The fingers of her other hand rested trustingly against his arm, like he was her damn boyfriend or something, escorting her to a formal function. Like she trusted him.
That's exactly what Addison thought.
He looked down at the top of her head, where the shining chestnut curls were piled high on her head in a pretty crown, leaving her neck bare. The savage in him wanted to take that neck in his hands and show her exactly why she shouldn't trust him.
He reached out from behind her back and snatched a couple of champagne flutes off of a passing tray and in one smooth move, took Addison's arm in a firm grip and pulled her with him further down the shadowy hallway that he had earlier staked out. It led to an outdoor patio overlooking a massive garden. Addison inhaled deeply the moment she stepped outside and smiled. She seemed to take beauty from everything around her, even though she couldn't see it. It was one of the things that drew him to her. She relaxed him in a way nothing else could. He could almost see beauty again through her powerful mind.
Daniel pressed the champagne flute into her hand and crowded her against the railing. She accepted the flute but stumbled a little and almost lost her balance. He ensured that her equilibrium was always thrown off around him so she would have to look to him for balance. He knew it made him a sick bastard. He didn't care. She reached out to clutch at the railing behind her, but he was quicker. He took her hand and guided it to his shoulder. She held onto him tightly and took a nervous sip of her champagne.
Daniel reached out and tilted the glass, tipping more of the rich liquid into her mouth. She swallowed quickly and choked a little, some of the alcohol running onto her chin. He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger and leaned down to lick the champagne from her skin. She gasped at the rasp of his tongue. He slid his fingers along her jaw and took her face in a strong grip, forcing her mouth open. He poured more of the liquid into her mouth before swooping low to thrust his tongue into the silken recesses and forcing her to accept his aggressive kiss.
Addison choked and would have instinctively turned her head to catch her breath but he held her tightly, forcing her to clutch him and struggle for air. He swallowed as she coughed the champagne into his mouth. Finally, he released her lips, though he retained his tight grip on her arms. She turned her head to the side and coughed, soaking the bodice of her lovely gown in champagne. She struggled weakly against him, but knew he wasn't about to release her. She settled for smacking him in the chest with a balled up fist and glaring up at him with flashing eyes.
"Asshole!" she hissed angrily, hiccuping indelicately.
He enjoyed the way her unfocused pupils rolled wildly when she was angry. She rarely lost control enough to swear. Only with him. When he could be the one to capture and contain her rare fury. He pressed a thumb against her cheek, enjoying the resiliency of her skin under his hands, before sliding his hand into her hair and tangling his fingers into the fancy crown of hair. He wanted to pull it down, tear her hair down into its usual tumble of dark curls. He hoped it would hurt. He’d teach her not to do fancy things with her body. The body that belonged to him alone.
"How do you like your date so far?" he asked, bending to press his lips and teeth against the skin of her throat underneath her ear.
She shivered and quit trying to push him away, tilting her chin back so he would have better access. Her full glass of champagne tilted precariously trickling liquid down her golden skirt. He didn't correct the situation. He hoped the dress was ruined. Maybe Claudia would keep her clothes to herself from now on. He didn’t like Addison borrowing fancy things when her own stuff suited her better.
"You never intended it to be real, did you?" she asked, trying to sound annoyed, but the breathless gasp ruined the tone she intended.
He shrugged and crowded her further against the railing, enjoying the gasp of dismay as she swayed precariously and clutched his arm tightly with one hand while her glass clinked wildly against the metal on the other side. She brought her hand up, sloshing champagne down his suit jacket. He didn't care. Now they matched. And both reeked of booze. He continued to press her back until she cried out and held onto him tightly, her ass pressed against the top railing overlooking a three story drop to the stone pavement of the gardens below. Not that she could see it.
But she could sense it.
"Daniel!" she cried out, fear lacing her voice.
He bent, taking her lips in a fierce kiss. Punishing her for bringing him to such a place, for daring to control him in an environment where she could come alive while he would be forced to stalk the shadows.
She was warm and willing beneath him, trusting him to take care of her, to not let her fall backwards.
"You need to learn," he growled against her lips.
"What?" she asked confused.
He held her tightly, feeling the press of her rounded thighs beneath the layers of fabric and thrusting against her, forcing her back against the railing once more.
"Need to learn not to drag me into your world, make me your boyfriend," he spat the last word like it was a curse.
He felt her stiffen underneath him, felt the retreat of her passion, but refused to let her physically move away from him. He continued to hold her trapped between the solid length of his body and railing. He framed her face with a hand and held her in a steely grip.
"You keep trying to make me something I'm not, so you can make this something it's not."
Her breath rushed out in a pained huff, fanning his chest and neck. He was turned on, despite knowing he was causing her pain. He could feel the crushing blow he was dealing her. She was a smart woman, she understood what he was saying. There wasn't going to be a happily ever after with him. He was too fucked up. He still wanted her desperately, still planned on fucking her against the railing, the moment his truth was done sinking into that lovely head.
"Then what is this, what are we doing Daniel?" she asked, pain lacing her words.
He gritted his teeth and growled, "Don't be stupid Addison, you already know."
He was so caught up in the feel and scent of her he barely spared a second to notice that the other guests were piling out onto the main balcony off to their far right. Daniel and Addison were far enough along the balcony, into the shadows, that they couldn't be seen or heard by the others. If Daniel hadn't been so distracted by Addison, something he would normally never allow his sharply honed senses to become, he would have questioned why the other guests had come outside.
As a result, he was unprepared for the loud bang that erupted over top of the beautiful venue. Bright lights flooded the sky in a confusing riot of colour and sound. Popping sounds exploded all around them.
Addison jumped in his arms and half twisted in confusion, bringing her hands up to cover her sensitive ears. Before Daniel's sharp mind could process the scene, his reflexes jumped into action. He dropped his champagne flute and hauled Addison away from the railing. Her flute slipped from her fingers and smashed against the stone tiles next to his. He flung her against the wall and, with a brutal hand against the back of her neck, forced her to kneel in a crouch against the side of the opera house while he dropped down on top of her. Her knees banged painfully against the stone and she cried out in fear and pain as he crouched over her, covering her with his bigger body.
Seconds later, Daniel's body slumped with relief before he stiffened over top of her and punched the wall, causing it shake.
"Daniel?" Addison asked fearfully.
"Fucking fireworks," he growled, his body still covering hers.
She nodded, her forehead scraping against the wall a little, but she was too fearful to move while he was still holding her down. He w
as unpredictable on a good day, but at the moment he was like a live grenade without the pin.
"You thought it was gunfire," she whispered.
He didn't move away, but his body slumped against hers a little. He knew she could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her back. He wondered what she was thinking. Her smaller body was shaking with the aftershock of being flung across the patio like a rag doll. She twisted around as much as she could in the small space he allowed her until she was half facing him.
His breath was coming out in short pants. He brought himself ruthlessly under control, forcing every muscle in his body to respond to the raging emotion going on in a mind telling him he was at war.
She must have known he would reject any overture of support from her, but she decided to try anyway. His brave girl. She lifted her hand and placed it against his thigh and gently rubbed it against the rigid muscle, running her fingers along the fabric of his suit pants. She lifted her other hand and placed it against his chest. The fireworks continued to explode all around them. She talked to him, describing the darkness where Daniel's broad shoulders blocked out the sky and then flashes of lights. Her voice soothed his mind, where chaos still reigned.
She told him that when she was a child she used to love fireworks. It made her feel as close to sighted as she could get because she could see the exploding lights almost like normal people. Maybe not the colours or beautiful patterns, but she could see something. She continued to rub her hands on his chest and thigh, begging him to relax under her fingertips.
Finally, the fireworks ended and the laughing, murmuring guests went back into the opera house, oblivious to the drama playing out thirty feet to their right.
Daniel stood and stumbled away from her, leaving her crouched against the wall, looking a little like a broken doll. Her hair was half spilling from its crown of curls and her beautiful ballgown was completely crushed and damp with champagne. Mascara tracks marred the flushed skin of her cheeks where she must have cried a few anxious tears while he'd held her tight against the wall during those few terrible minutes.
She reached out blindly for him.
"Daniel?" she said his name, her voice sad but hopeful.
He reached out and took hold of the bare top of her arm and dragged her to her feet. With swift, impersonal hands he yanked her dress back into order, pushing the golden bustier back into place and shoving the yards of crinoline fabric back into some semblance of a skirt. The dress was long past salvageable, but she wouldn't embarrass herself if she decided to make a dignified exit. That was up to her.
"Now you know why I don't date," he said cynically.
"Oh Daniel," she said, her voice taking on that softness it does when she was feeling compassionate or some shit.
He grabbed her upper arm and shook her hard. "Don't," he growled.
Of course, the little idiot persisted.
"Daniel, you have PTSD," she insisted softy, "It's nothing to be ashamed of..."
He took her by the shoulders and shoved her back against the wall so hard the breath whooshed out of her. She gasped and brought her arms up to protect herself, but he shoved them back down and gripped her neck tightly, squeezing until she choked. She grabbed his wrist desperately, trying to loosen his unbreakable hold.
"Say it again, Addison,” he snarled into her face, his voice deadly.
Her lips parted in shock, fear stopping her tongue. Her eyes stared up into his, the golden orbs wide with fright.
"That's what I thought," he whispered. He kissed her hard on the lips, shoving his tongue into her open mouth and plundering the silken recess for long seconds before pushing away from her. “Good-bye, Addison."
He turned and left her standing on the balcony, her breath coming out in sobs of fright and confusion.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Addison stood in shocked bewilderment, shivers coursing through her chilled body. She desperately hoped that any moment now she would hear the sound of Daniel's footsteps rapidly approaching and feel the slightly painful but bittersweet touch of his hands on her body. She knew better. When Daniel left her alone, he didn't come back. This time was no different. He wanted her to know he didn't get emotionally attached.
Addison tried to swallow her sobs and used the heel of her hand to wipe away some of the damage to her face. She silently cursed Claudia for insisting she wear more make-up than usual. Both women could have guessed that an evening that involved taking Daniel Mercer to an opera house ballroom was going to end in tears. Addison shook her head cynically and impatiently lifted the edge of her skirt to stem the flow of tears.
She hoped the dress was ruined, it would teach Claudia to help Addison in her quest to tame Daniel into some semblance of civilized.
"Addie, is everything okay?" A high-pitched voice interrupted Addison's one-person pity party, causing her to jump.
Addison immediately recognized Erica’s grating voice. She had to remind herself not to get annoyed, as Erica hadn't yet done anything to annoy her, though she knew it was only a matter of seconds. She dropped the layer of skirt she had been using as a handkerchief and straightened. She knew from the sharp intake of breath Erica took that she probably looked awful.
Thanks Daniel, she thought, a few minutes with him out on the balcony and I’ll look like I've been savaged by a wild animal.
"I'm fine, Erica," she said as steadily as she could manage. "I just need to get home. Would you mind helping me find a way past the ballroom without being seen?"
She really hated asking Erica for anything, the other girl was the type to grasp onto small favours as something far more meaningful than they actually were, but Addison did not need to be explaining her current state of disrepair to the several acquaintances she had in there that would demand an explanation. Plus, she really didn't feel like socializing any more tonight. She just wanted to get home. And go check on Daniel, her traitorous brain whispered.
"Of course!" Erica said, a little too excited. She seized Addison's arm and pulled her forward.
Addison swallowed the annoyed exclamation that bubbled up at being led around like a cow by the other woman. She had to remind herself that Erica was an unusually enthusiastic person, if a bit strange, which is what made her such a good assistant to the Maestro. Addison conveniently didn't add the part that Maestro probably would've fired Erica ages ago if she weren't union.
She hesitated when she could hear the murmur of voices getting louder, but true to her word, Erica steered her around the ballroom without meeting any of the people. She led Addison down two flights of stairs and through a set of doors. A rush of cool evening air met Addison's flushed cheeks. She released a sigh and squeezed Erica's hand.
"I can handle things from here," she said. "Thank you so much for helping me leave."
Addison turned away from Erica and stealthily reached into the bodice of her gown to pull out a twenty she had tucked in there earlier in the evening when she'd been getting ready. She didn't like carrying purses when she went out in the evenings, they were too hard to keep track of when she was drinking or dancing. She'd learned from experience to always carry cab money and identification somewhere on her person and leave her purse at home.
She was pulling the bill from between her breasts when Erica grabbed hold of her elbow and pulled her back around. Addison stumbled a little and bumped into the taller woman. Erica steadied her and Addison had a momentary flash of surprise at the other woman's unusual strength. Addison wasn't petite, she should've at least knocked Erica back a few steps.
Addison reached for patience and shook her arm a little, indicating she would prefer not to have assistance. Of course, Erica didn't take the hint. She seemed to lack that basic understanding of personal space.
"I drove my car, it's right around the corner," Erica said, in her high-pitched overly excited voice. "I'll give you a ride home!"
She started pulling Addison down the sidewalk before Addison could refuse the offer. Addison had no choice but to go wit
h her or risk tripping and falling. She was about to open her mouth to tell Erica she would prefer to take a cab, but decided to suck it up and accept the ride. Spending a few awkward minutes with Erica was worth the expediency of getting home quicker and not having to hail a cab without being able to actually see them.
"Thank you," Addison said as graciously as possible.
Moments later, Erica bundled her into a low-riding two-door sedan that revved too loudly for Addison's liking. She thought maybe it needed a tune-up or something and thought longingly of Daniel's truck. A flash of concern swept over her. She knew she should be angry that he abandoned her, but she felt in her heart that he wouldn't have done it if something wasn't really wrong with him. She blamed herself for forcing him into a situation he couldn't control. She thought he would be okay though. He accompanied King all the time and, as far as she knew, never had episodes like this.
Only King didn't throw his equilibrium off the way Addison did. She hoped Daniel didn't hate her for it. He'd warned her against treating him like some kind of boyfriend and, of course, she hadn't listened. She hadn't wanted to believe he was right. Because if he was, what did that make their relationship? Nothing more than great sex?
"Who was that guy you were with?" Erica asked.
Addison was surprised Erica even noticed she'd had a date for the evening. Daniel had spent about two minutes at her side, not even long enough to meet any of Addison's acquaintances.
"His name is Daniel," Addison replied. "He had to leave early."
She knew her explanation sounded lame and didn't account for the miserable state of her dress, but Erica was kind enough not to say anything. Addison rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She heard rustling and then the heat was turned higher. Erica patted her hand. She knew Erica was just a touchy kind of person, but it got on Addison's nerves.
"He's handsome," Erica said conversationally. "Not really in a classic sense though. More in a sharp, brutal kind of way. He definitely didn't belong in a place like the opera house, that was clear as day. People kept their distance from him. It was sort of weird, they like, flowed around where he was standing. It was like they could sense he was a mean bastard or something."
Fear in Her Eyes (Fire & Vice Book 5) Page 15