Allure Magnified

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  “Yeah, okay. We both know that—” He paused mid-sentence and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. A confused look came over his face right before he tensed. He tried to hide it, I could tell, but there was no way I could miss the change that came over him.

  “What is it?”

  Dorian responded to the text, his thumbs flying across the screen. “It’s nothing.” He slipped his phone in his pocket.

  Confused, I followed him back out of the office. He didn’t say anything else until we were inside the elevator heading down. “You don’t have any plans for the rest of the day, right?” He reached up to play with a strand of my hair. The tension I’d seen in the office was gone, leaving behind that lazy, turned on look that drove me crazy every time I saw it.

  “I do, in fact.” I tugged my hair out of his hand. “It’s called dragging you home and possibly violating you thoroughly.”

  “Possibly? No. You’re very much obligated to now that you’ve got that image stuck in my head.”

  “Am I now?” I responded with a smirk.

  The elevator doors opened. A man stepped inside on his cell phone and immediately turned his back on us, continuing his conversation. I felt Dorian’s fingertips run across my leg, right where my skirt ended. I tried to swat his hand away without being too obvious about it. He chuckled silently, his chest bouncing against my back as he wrapped his fingers around my thigh. He brought me closer, appearing not to care if we were seen.

  What had happened? Not that we’d had an easy time keeping our hands off each other before. But now that he was back, it’s like he wasn’t even trying to hide what he felt for me. Most of me loved it. However, there was still that small, rational voice that warned me that my father and Dorian having a blow-out would ruin everything.

  I had no doubt that Dorian might choose to let me go if it came down to that. He and my father were business partners, not just friends.

  I couldn’t handle the thought of losing Dorian. I knew that he would probably walk away sometime in the future, when he got tired of what we had, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. Okay, I might never really be ready, and I was woman enough to admit that to myself. Still, four months with him wasn’t enough. Nowhere near it.

  The man in front of us exited on the fourth floor, leaving Dorian and I alone in the elevator again. I turned to him. “Dorian, we’re going to get caught.”

  He scowled at me when I tried to step back. His hand shot out and wrapped around my lower back, pulling me back in and slamming me against his chest. “I’m sick of keeping my hands off you. I told you.”

  The intense and slightly savage look in his eyes made me gape at him. My body responded with a wave of heat, all of my blood rushing out of my heart and hot into my veins. “But what if my Dad…”

  “We’ll figure shit out. My point is that I’m done with all the hiding.”

  I was damned sure he would’ve attacked me right there had the elevator not arrived at the lower parking level. Dorian grasped my hand tightly in his, his eyes darting to me before focusing ahead.

  We stopped in front his Viper SRT. He took my Victoria’s Secret bag and opened the trunk to put it in. I focused on the car as he did so, my brain replaying every fantasy I had that involved Dorian and his damned new car. The thing was as sexy as its owner, all sleekness and red, carbon-fiber allure.

  “Baby.” Dorian had closed the trunk and was now standing there, his eyes darting between me and the car. “Why do I have a feeling you have my car and sex on the brain?”

  “Because I do.”

  “Shit.” He shook his head and went around to the driver side. “Get in the car. Now.”

  The look on his face had me rushing to obey. I opened the passenger door and all but fell into the red and black interior. The inside of the car was even hotter than the outside, and by the time Dorian was inside, I was sitting there with my legs crossed and clenched.

  “Fuck the cameras.” He leaned toward me, grabbing my nape and not giving me a choice. He slanted his mouth against mine and sucked the breath right out of me. I fisted his hair, soaking in the languid strokes of his tongue.

  “Dorian.” The gentle wet suction of his lips robbed me of rational thought. I inhaled, letting him tilt my head and penetrate me. His cologne was leaking into me, the scent amplified by the close quarters. “Dorian…people.”

  “I don’t care.” He sat back with a growl, looking like he was about to climb over the side console and mount me.

  And fuck me, because I was ready to spread my legs and let him have free reign.

  “Oh, God. Dorian. Get us home. Now.” It didn’t even occur to me that I’d just referred to his apartment as “home”. All I cared about was him putting the RPG’s the freaking car was gifted with to good use.

  Dorian pulled back, his bottom lip trapped by his teeth. He exhaled in strong bursts, his nostrils flaring. He really looked like he was about to dive back in, when I heard his phone vibrating again.

  The look on his face when he read the text froze me.

  “Dorian…what is it?” I asked, concerned.

  His fingers flew across the screen, his forehead tensing with each second that passed. Because he was facing me and holding up his phone, I couldn’t see what he was typing out. Then, his phone vibrated again and it didn’t stop this time. It was clear that this was a call coming through.

  “Give me a sec. I have to take this.” He exited the car with a look that promised murder. He closed the door with more force than necessary and when he accepted the call, I could see his shoulders tense beneath his shirt.

  I was extremely curious, but there was no way that I could leave the car or open my window and listen in on his conversation. If he had wanted me to hear what was going on, he would have stayed in the car. This knowledge only made me more curious. I stole glances at him, trying not to be too obvious. Not that he would’ve noticed. He kept his back to the car the entire time, his free hand agitated as it swept through the air.

  It hit me right then that he was arguing with someone. I couldn’t hear him, but although he wasn’t yelling, his body language said it all. I swallowed, heart speeding up with dread. Dorian hung up the call and stormed back into the car. Once inside, he flung his cell across the top of the dashboard angrily. I watched it skid in my direction, feeling like I was suffocating with all the tension that I could sense coming off him.

  “Dorian, please talk to me. What’s going on?”

  He ran his hands down his face then pulled on his hair. “It’s nothing.” He caught sight of my face and something about the way I was looking at him must’ve given away how scared I was. “Baby, look at me.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me closer, not letting them go. “It’s nothing.”

  “It doesn’t look like it’s nothing,” I said in a small voice. I stared down at our joined hands, confirming what I was feeling. Dorian was holding my hands so tight that they were starting to hurt. His knuckles and veins stood out sharply from the strain. There was a hint of desperation in him, one that I could tell he was trying to hide.

  “Look at me.”

  So I did, bringing my eyes back up to lock with his.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He raised one hand, his thumb caressing my cheek on a downward stroke. “Just forget about it. Please.”

  I nodded and managed to gently extricate my hands from his hold. Dorian tried to make his expression impassive as he turned on the car. I ignored the fact that I could tell I was being lied to.

  For now.

  Whatever it was, Dorian didn’t want me to know. And I doubted it was work related, because he usually at least mentioned what was frustrating him with work, even if I didn’t always understand what the issue entailed.

  No. This was different and he was hiding it from me. The feeling coursing through my brain and leaking down on a toxic wave was new and unusual. I hated it. I nibbled on the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to question him. Hell, the way I was feeling, I was
going to corner him and demand those answers. We hadn’t had an argument, yet, but I knew that if I opened my mouth right now, it was going to happen.

  Still, there was no way I could let this go. No fucking way. As soon as I caught him off guard, I was going to confront him. He was going to tell me what the hell was going on whether he liked it or not.

  5

  “Why am I on this coffee table again?”

  “Because I love your little ass spread on it. Good memories.”

  “Haven’t we made enough?”

  Dorian leaned over me, all lazy suggestiveness. His hands were spread on either side of me, his arms caging me in. “You really think that we’ve made enough?”

  I was trying really hard not to get distracted. I had been waiting for us to finish eating so I could broach the subject of what the hell was going on. Except as soon as I’d set my Chinese food container aside, I’d found myself lifted in the air…

  And placed legs-spread right on the coffee table.

  Hello, Déjà vu.

  “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”

  He bit his lip, smiling at me, and leaned into me. He fucked my mouth with his tongue, humming contently.

  “Dorian.”

  “Shhh. We’re busy.”

  My toes curled inside my heels, my mouth opening to accept him again.

  “I want to drink you until your pussy runs dry.”

  “Okay.” I slapped my hands on the coffee table and leaned back on them, spreading my legs even more. “You win. Go.”

  Dorian laughed, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “See? Don’t we get along better when you just submit to what I want?”

  I grabbed his collar with one hand and pulled him closer. “Dorian, get to the drinking me part.”

  “Not quite submitting yet, I see.” His hand slapped around my neck, the grip tight and merciless. He slammed me onto the table hard enough to fucking hurt and didn’t give a damn when I gasped, shocked.

  I tried lifting my head, ready to curse him out. My back arched into his stiff arm, my mouth falling open. There he was, on his knees, holding me down on his coffee table while sniffing his way down my body. He didn’t stop until he was running his nose right down my slit, a groan mixing with his inhale.

  “Dorian.”

  “Addicted to this,” he mumbled, lapping wetly at my still covered pussy.

  I shivered, melting onto the table and letting my legs collapse open. I was panting for breath. He slipped his left index finger into my panties, rubbing the back across my lips. I bit my lip, arched…tried to swallow, but realized that his hold on me was almost too tight.

  “Dorian—”

  He captured one of my lower lips between his teeth, tugging it and my panties gently. I whimpered, writhing against him. Holding my boy shorts to the side, he thrust two fingers in. “Even after I’ve fucked you, you’re still so snug.”

  His God damned voice. I clenched, angry that I was already so close to orgasm. He sucked on my clit then looked up at me from beneath lowered lids. I was able to move my head just enough to see how his navy eyes blazed behind his thick black lashes.

  He’d stopped moving his fingers and had them pressed deep within me. A wicked smile curled his lips. “I’m never going to get tired of feeling how you throb for me.”

  I dug my nails into his hand. In response, he simply tightened his hold on me, enough to make breathing just a tad bit difficult. Anger rose and mixed with the need for more. “Fuck me.” He didn’t move; he just stared down at me with that victorious and pleased look. I dug the nails of my other hand into his bicep hard enough to hurt and possibly draw blood.

  Dorian merely laughed, biting his lip as he rose over me. “I love when you’re so needy for my cock that you get violent.” He leaned down and breathed right against my lips. “Harder, baby. Make me bleed.”

  He asked for it. I clenched my teeth, rotated my hips against his hand, and as pleasure spiraled along my walls I dragged my nails down his skin. He pressed down on my neck. I opened my mouth to gasp and ended up with a mouthful of him instead. I let go of his hands as we writhed into each other. I clawed into his back next, pulling and tugging and hoping he’d get the damned point.

  I felt his phone vibrate against my thigh. He kissed me harder, obviously determined to ignore it. I wrapped my legs around his hips, just as determined as he was. His phone eventually stopped vibrating, only to start up again less than a second later.

  “Fucking shit.” Dorian panted, his breath tempting me as it tickled my mouth.

  I mewled and leaned up, lips pursed. He sucked on one then the other in that soft way that made my clit throb. He ran his thumb across my lower lip, making sure I fucking tasted more of him.

  “Ignore it,” I breathed, lost in a haze. I snapped my teeth around his thumb and dragged it into my mouth. The damned phone kept vibrating and it was by the third call that reality came down on me.

  Dorian cursed and pulled away from me. I watched him get up, the expression on his face going carefully blank.

  “Who is it, Dorian?” I sat up on the coffee table.

  “Just wait for me here, okay? Please.”

  My mouth fell open but whatever I was about to say died on its way out. I could do nothing but sit there and ache as I watched him walk out of the living room and toward his bedroom.

  The urge to slam my hand on the coffee table was extreme. Either that or laugh. No, actually, I was about ready to get the hell up and storm back there so I could smack him for what he was doing.

  And the list was growing longer by the moment. I couldn’t tell what pissed me off more, the fact that I was horny and unsatisfied, or that he was once again withholding the truth from me.

  Fucking shit.

  Aggravation rushed through me and had me jumping up to my feet. I was two steps in the direction of his room when common sense hit me. It was starting to really hurt that he didn’t want me to know about what was going on. At the same time, if he wanted to keep it to himself, who was I to demand that he tell me?

  After all, it’s not like he was my boyfriend.

  Double ouch.

  I told myself I was being ridiculous. For all I knew, it probably had to do something with work and he just didn’t want to involve me in it. At least I hoped so. Suddenly anxious, I ran my fingers through my hair. Pacing back and forth wasn’t going to help and I really didn’t want him to see me doing so if he came out. So, I turned and decided to sit on the couch while I waited for him to come out.

  That lasted five minutes, tops. A few times, I heard his voice rise. He wasn’t yelling, and I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but the tone I picked up sent my anxiety sky rocketing. Unable to sit there for another second, I got up and made my way into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water and was taking the first sip when I heard the bedroom door open.

  My hand started shaking so badly that I spilled some of the water. Pissed off, I placed the glass on the counter and took a deep breath. I felt more than heard Dorian walk into the kitchen and stop behind me.

  “Sorry about that.”

  I closed my eyes. Yes, I’d told myself that I wasn’t going to pry, but it became impossible not to do so right then. “What was it about? Was it the same person as before?”

  His silence was a warning, one that I understood. I knew what he meant to do before he even answered. Deflect. “Yeah, but it’s nothing. Just something I have to deal with.”

  You’re not his girlfriend, Dem. Don’t argue about this.

  I poured the water left in the glass into the sink then placed it inside. I was so tempted to put on my shoes, grab my purse, and leave. He had every right to keep certain things to himself, but I had every right, as a woman, to be upset over it.

  Either way, though, I couldn’t up and leave. Regardless of how “justified” I might be in my disappointment with the situation, he’d just gotten back. Throwing a fit and leaving would be the definition of fucked-up and I didn’t
feel like being that much of a bitch to him.

  “Let me get the plates we left in the kitchen.” I went to walk past him, but he blocked my way and pulled me into his arms. He cupped my jaw in his hand, his thumb caressing my ear and sliding down my neck. I knew what he was about to do and I was equal parts needy and wary. I needed him as always, but I needed distance just as bad.

  He tilted my head up and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss started out gentle, sweet. It didn’t matter. Within a second, his tongue had dipped inside and licked around mine. He knew just what to do, exactly how to stroke my tongue, how to coax me back to that point of mindless need.

  I pulled back enough to whimper his name softly in protest. “Dorian.”

  He groaned, pulling me back in. His tongue turned full-on aggressive. Obviously, he’d become as mindless as I was about to be. I was so tempted to give in as I usually did and let him sweep me up into the sex that leaked off of him until both of us were coming hard. But I was still upset. Beneath it all, that small resentfulness remained and having sex with him while I felt like that was a stupid ass idea.

  I knew that. So, I stepped away from him.

  “Demi.”

  “Dorian, I…I just can’t right now.” I stared up at him from under my lashes, hoping that he’d get it and wouldn’t be angry. Or worse, make me put to words what it was that I was feeling.

  “You’re angry.”

  “I’m not angry. I’m just…” I paused, wondering what would be the best way to explain, and wondering if I wasn’t in fact lying. I didn’t want to admit out loud that I was angry. Doing so would make me feel like an immature brat. Yet, deep down I knew that all the denial in the world would never erase the reality of what I was feeling. “Dorian, you can’t expect me not to be bothered by this.”

  The way his expression dropped made me cringe.

  “I’m not hiding anything from you because I have secrets of any sort, Demi. Not like that.”

  I couldn’t even try and pretend that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. It must have showed on my face, too.