Dark Dichotomy

by Aubrey Ross

  He turned toward the street and guided her back until she felt a car press against her behind. The kiss went on and on, stealing her breath and muddling her mind. Her arms were trapped by his jacket and his knee pressed between her thighs, rubbing her mound and making her squirm. She gasped, separating their mouths in the process.

  “I’ve never paid for sex and I have no intention of starting now,” he growled against her damp lips. “But I want you so badly I can’t think straight.”

  What was she supposed to do with that? She inhaled sharply and turned her face aside. “I don’t have recreational sex. It’s too dangerous. My clients are screened and—”

  He silenced her protest with another searing kiss. His fingers released the jacket. One hand skimmed along her neck while the other ventured between the lapels. She waited for a demanding squeeze, but his hand teased her midriff instead.

  Her nipples tightened, protesting their neglect. His knuckles grazed the underside of her breast and she shifted restlessly. Her senses hummed, tantalized by the temptation. Never before had her body ignited after just a few heated kisses.

  His hand drifted down her side, over her hip, and along her thigh. He caught the hem of her dress with his fingertips, bunching it up until he encountered skin.

  “I want to touch you.” His breath wafted across her lips as he whispered, “I want to feel your pussy melt all over my fingers then lick you until you scream.”

  “Stop it.” She caught his wrist.

  “If you’re not willing to fuck me, then let’s just play. Let’s crawl into the backseat like a couple of teenagers and make out.”

  She laughed, amused by the ridiculous suggestion. “I’m not going to—make out with you.”

  “Then let’s go to your hotel room and cuddle.” He grinned, mischief gleaming in his eyes.

  “You’re not going anywhere near my hotel room.”

  He pulled a remote from his pocket and unlocked the car. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” His smile softened the boast and he opened the door with a gallant flourish.

  She handed his jacket back to him before she sat down. He tossed the jacket onto the backseat and closed the door. She released her pent-up breath and pressed her hand over her pounding heart. What the hell was she going to do? Fucking him now would serve no real purpose, other than banishing the ache between her thighs. He had no problem coming on to a call girl. He just didn’t want to pay for it.

  Throbbing pressure erupted in her head. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She couldn’t afford to get one of her headaches, not now. Dread washed over her as the pain intensified.

  “Are you all right?”

  Why did he sound so far away?

  Like the sting of a miniature arrow, sensation burst behind her eyes. You want him. You’ll do anything to have him.

  Desire unfurled inside her and she pressed her thighs together. “What did you do to me? I’ve never ached like this before.”

  He ran his knuckles along her jaw line then turned her face toward him. “Tell me exactly what you’re feeling.” She’d expected a smug smile or another playful boast. Instead she saw real concern in his eyes.

  “I want you inside me, right here, right now.”

  With a strangled groan he glanced up and down the street. There was no one about, but that could change in an instant. She parted her lips, anxious for his kiss. He touched her knee and she parted her thighs. His fingers stroked her leg, the teasing circles bringing him ever closer to the apex of her thighs.

  “Please,” she whispered against his open mouth.

  His fingers slipped inside her damp panties and lightly traced her cream-slick cleft. “You are so wet.”

  “I want your fingers inside me when I come.”

  The hushed confession sent lust stabbing into Evan’s soul. He pushed two fingers into her waiting pussy, amazed by the heat and the strength of her inner muscles. If she gripped his fingers this tightly, imagine how she’d feel around his cock.

  He pulled back and thrust deeper. She cried out and arched her hips. His body throbbed, demanding the sort of penetration she obviously craved. Stealing a quick orgasm in a heated rush was one thing. There was no way he was going to fuck her in a car.

  His thumb found her clit and rubbed the puffy little nub. She shook and clutched his hand with her thighs. Her inner muscles fluttered with the start of her orgasm and awareness jolted him.

  Unsure what had caused the odd reaction, he scanned her mind.

  Images rolled across their link. He wasn’t sure if they were fantasies or memories. She sprawled on a bed, a dark-haired man thrusting between her thighs. Her legs lightly circled his lean hips and her hands clutched his back. Her imagination hadn’t produced an accurate image, but it was close enough.

  Unless this wasn’t him.

  Disconcerted by the thought, Evan started to withdraw when her lover threw back his head and cried out in release. He’d never seen Aidan’s face before, but he recognized the twisted pattern of his energy. Disgust and anger washed over Evan in icy waves. Was Lark Aidan’s willing accomplice or one of his many victims?

  He opened his eyes and moved his hand to her knee. She blinked and stretched, unable to suppress a sleepy smile.

  “Is that better?” He kissed the tip of her nose, unsure how he should proceed. If she had a connection to Aidan, they needed to find out exactly what it was.

  “For now.”

  “Does this mean I get an encore?” Fucking her now was less appealing. Using pleasure to motivate her cooperation, however, suited him just fine.

  She lowered her lashes, shielding her expression. “I’m still deciding.”

  He started the car. “Is there anything I can do to help you make up your mind?”

  “If this isn’t work, I don’t want to go to my hotel room.”

  The playroom in the basement of Burton House was the perfect place for what he had in mind. “I live in Napa. Do you have any objection to going for a ride?”

  She licked her lips and squeezed his thigh. “I’m counting on it.”

  * * *

  Apprehension lodged firmly in the pit of Lark’s belly as Evan turned off the paved road. “Do you live in a cabin or something?”

  They’d left the city of Napa behind about twenty minutes ago. Was he taking her to the estate? The Burton brothers guarded their privacy with obsessive intensity. She’d presumed they were headed to one of the smaller houses.

  “Not exactly a cabin.”

  She heard amusement in his voice, but he said nothing more. Lark took a moment to reinforce her role. A professional mistress wouldn’t know as much about the Burtons as she knew. She couldn’t risk making him suspicious until she’d had the opportunity to snoop around.

  The gravel drive widened and curved in front of a stately stone mansion. Good God! It was imposing. Moonlight gave the area an eerie charm. Lark couldn’t take it all in before he pulled into one of six bays in the detached garage. She opened the car door and walked out into the cool night, feeling rather dazed. Trees created a leafy perimeter beyond an expansive lawn. Water shimmered in the distance. She tucked her clutch under her arm and squinted through the darkness, trying to make out the details.

  “Is that a lake?”

  “A small one. Come on.” He took her hand and started toward the house.

  A light turned on in one of the upstairs rooms and her steps faltered. “You don’t live alone?”

  “It’s a rather large house for one person.” He resumed his trek, but she pulled her hand out of his light grasp. “What’s wrong?” He turned to face her.

  “This is how girls like me end up dead.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to kill you if we were alone?”

  “Not if they’re going to help.” She made a bland gesture toward the house looming before them.

  “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “Why?”

  “Call someone and tell them where you are. I’m
much less likely to indulge my murderous inclinations, if I can be directly implicated in your death.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea. She opened her clutch and felt around for her phone. Who could she call in front of him and not give herself away? Her sister would ask a million questions she couldn’t answer and Brook… She didn’t want to talk to Brook right now.

  “I must have left it in my hotel room,” she said. “I don’t mean to be a pain. This just isn’t what I was expecting.”

  He held out his hand, his gaze glinting in the moonlight. “Murder is the furthest thing from my mind.” She hesitated another moment before taking his hand. She’d been able to read his expressions all night, yet his features seemed impassive now.

  They used a side entrance and took the staircase adjacent to a walk-in pantry. A shiver skittered down her spine. Why was he taking her to the basement? They passed through a storeroom and down a short hallway.

  “Where are we going?” She tried not to sound as uncomfortable as she felt. Was this retribution for her rude assumption? He opened a door and motioned her inside. “After you,” she insisted and he chuckled. He stepped through the doorway and waited for her to join him. She took a deep breath and followed. He shut the door, casting the room into utter darkness. “This isn’t funny.” A row of recessed lights activated and she gasped. “Holy shit. This better be a joke.”

  The walls were stone like the exterior of the house, giving the room a medieval ambiance. Restraints hung from chains secured to the exposed beams above her head. They stood beside a padded bench about waist high with wrist and ankle cuffs. An obscene chair stood in one corner of the room while another housed an apparatus so odd Lark wasn’t even sure what to call it.

  “You look shocked. Surely you aren’t that naive.”

  You’re paid to fulfill men’s fantasies. Pull yourself together.

  “If you’d given me some indication of what you intended, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

  “I just about fucked you against the side of my car in full view of passing traffic.” He clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze boring into hers. “Wasn’t that indication enough that I’m aggressive?”

  “This isn’t just aggressive. This is a whole different… I’m not sure this is a good idea.” Her heart pounded in her chest and her gaze couldn’t find anywhere to look that didn’t send excitement zinging through her bloodstream. It would be irrational to let him restrain her, yet she couldn’t deny being aroused by the idea.

  “If you’ll be honest with me, I’ll let you choose how we spend the rest of our time together.”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat and shifted her small purse from hand to hand. “And if I lie to you?”

  “You’ll be punished.”

  What if I want to be punished? The naughty question formed in her mind and he flashed a wolfish grin. Her eyes widened. “What made you smile?”

  One of his eyebrows arched and his voice responded in her mind. Why ask questions when you know the answers?

  She backed toward the door, her hand outstretched to ward him off. He caught her wrist and slowly reeled her in. Taking her clutch from her hand, he tossed it onto a nearby chair and clasped her wrists as effectively as velvet-lined manacles. Her tugging went unnoticed as he stared into her eyes.

  “What do you want from me?” Fear made her voice shrill.

  “Honest answers. Can you handle that?”

  “You brought me to a torture chamber to question me?”

  He chuckled. “No one considers what happens here torture.”

  She wasn’t about to debate the issue. He already suspected her inexperience and she wasn’t going to prove him right. “Let’s go upstairs. Make a pot of coffee and we’ll talk.”

  “If you still want coffee after you’ve answered my questions, I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  She needed to calm down. Her only weapon was her mind and panic was counterproductive to clear thinking. “We could have had this conversation in San Francisco. I have nothing to hide.” Her insides tensed as she realized the first words out of her mouth were a lie.

  “Whose face did you see when you came in my car?”

  “Oh my God!” She jerked her hands free, but he grabbed her upper arms. “Is that what this is about? For a fraction of a second I pictured an old lover. Are you that insecure?” His only reaction was a scowl, so she went on, “Reading minds is rude. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Who is he?”

  “I never knew his name. He insisted I call him sir. He was my first client and he was a bona-fide bastard. What else would you like to know?”

  His grip eased but he didn’t let go. Could she have averted the fight so easily? He didn’t seem angry anymore, just watchful. His lips parted and her gaze gravitated to his mouth. Kissing him had left her weak, literally weak. She wanted to kiss him again, to rekindle the fire he’d ignited in the car and stoke the flames until it consumed them. But it didn’t make sense. Why would she want him now? He was treating her like a criminal!

  “If he was such a bastard, why did your orgasm bring back the memory?”

  His gaze searched hers and she sensed a subtle disruption in her mind. He was doing it again. She placed both hands on his chest and shoved. “You can either grill me with questions or read my mind. You don’t get to do both!”

  The shadow of a smile curved his lips. “How long were you with him?”

  “I don’t discuss my clients with anyone. This conversation is over.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, trapping one hand against her side and the other between them. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you’re not a prostitute.”

  She kicked his shin and struggled against his hold, determined to free her arms. “Have you known many prostitutes?”

  “I’ve never been desperate enough to pay for sex.” His gaze turned opaque. “And you’re not desperate enough to sell your body to strangers. So, what were you doing at the gallery?”

  How had he seen through her so easily? It was more than the odd flash of memory; he seemed to know her. She needed to distract him, steer him away from her true purpose. “I’ve always found it ironic that society ostracizes women who are willing to sell their bodies, yet no one thinks twice about the men who pay for pleasure.”

  “Tell it to Oprah.”

  She licked her lips and searched for a plausible excuse. He found the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled it down. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting you ready for punishment. Even now you’re concocting a story that is anything but honest.” His arm banded her upper thighs, lifting her off the floor. She kicked wildly and her shoes went flying. “Thank you.”

  Her bare feet touched the cold concrete floor and she gasped. Life gradually returned to his gaze, desire mixed with amusement. The jerk was enjoying this! “Are you going to spank me?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” He gave her ass a firm squeeze, his fingers lingering against her flesh. “Would you like that, songbird?”

  “My name is Lark,” she snapped.

  He chuckled. “What’s a lark if not a songbird? Now stop trying to distract me. We were talking about punishment. Shall I warm these soft cheeks before I fuck you? Have you ever felt heat sinking into your body, accenting the pleasure, and making you wild?”

  She pushed against his chest which only ground their lower bodies closer together. The unmistakable ridge of his erection pressed into her abdomen. Restlessness fluttered through her belly and possibilities teased her imagination. She could wrap her legs around his waist while he impaled her with his cock or she could bend over the padded bench and flip up her skirt. Heat pooled between her thighs, urging her to choose.

  “Do you want to fuck or do you want to talk?” She forced the words out though her mouth had gone dry.

  His hand slipped under her skirt and cupped her bare bottom. Because of the clingy style, she’d worn a silk thong. “I want to tal
k so we can fuck. Now answer the question.”

  “I told you what I was doing at the gallery.”

  “No, you agreed to leave, which defused the situation.” His fingers found the opening in her panties and pushed between her thighs. She wasn’t sure if he couldn’t reach her from this angle or if he chose to frustrate her, but his touch feathered over her folds, never venturing between. “You never told me why you were there.”

  Hiding her mounting hunger behind a sarcastic smirk, she parted her thighs and gave him better access. “I wanted to fuck one of the notorious Burton brothers. Does that make me a wine groupie?”

  Just as she’d suspected, he moved his hand away. It was a tease. He meant to keep her simmering and never give her release until she told him everything he wanted to know. She couldn’t trust him with the truth. Her only hope was to steal his thunder. She’d revel in each caress, enjoy the sensations without expecting an orgasm to follow.

  “We aren’t that notorious.” He pulled her arms to the small of her back and held them there with one hand while he lowered the front of her dress. Her bra surrendered to one skillful flick of his fingers. He separated the cups and his breath hissed out. “You have truly spectacular breasts.” He cupped one mound and then the other. She arched into the touch. Her eagerness surprised him, yet he seemed reluctant to stop. He caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, lightly pinching as he rolled the tender peak. “When was the last time you saw your first client?”

  “What?” Confusion cut through the pleasure just starting to build within her. She twisted away, but his fingers didn’t release. The only way to minimize the pinch was to remain still. “Months ago, perhaps a year or more.”

  His eyes narrowed but his fingers loosened, caressing her again. “You believe that, but I’m not sure it’s true.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” This might take longer than she’d thought. Could she bear his careless stimulation over and over again?