“That’s him,” Jane whispered as they approached the restaurant.
Alfred had beat them to the restaurant, and he was already talking with the maitre’d. So much for inspecting his battleground first, John thought, slightly annoyed.
Alfred Benedict was every bit what John was expecting. He was a wiry, white-haired man in his late sixties in an expensive Armani suit and impeccable jewelry on both hands. Unfortunately, he had a kindly face. It was easy to see how a number of people could be deceived by such a person. Particularly so, considering his wealth.
“...ah, and here they are now!” Alfred said jovially, opening his arms wide to John and Jane as they approached. “My dearest niece and brand-new nephew, how nice it is to see you.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Jane stiffened beside him. “Long time no see, uncle,” Jane said, and John could hear the tinge of restrained anger in her voice.
“Where’s the twins? I haven’t seen them in a while,” asked Alfred.
His wife gave her uncle the iciest glare.
“They’ll be here shortly with my mother,” said John quickly before she could.
“Savannah? Ah, I haven’t seen her in a long time as well. How’s your mother?”
“She’s fine and in great health.”
“Your mother must be, what, pushing seventy, isn’t she?”
Why this bastard... His mother married his father at eighteen and had John when she was twenty-one. With her youthful appearance, people thought she was in her mid-forties. John put on his poker face and forced out a smile. “I sincerely hope you won’t say anything like that to my mother. You know women are sensitive about their age.”
Alfred laughed boisterously. “Sorry, sorry. My marriage didn’t work out, so I’m not good with this sort of thing.”
Yeah, sure, ‘cause you prefer banging your own mother, John thought with a sneer of revulsion. He nodded to the maitre’d who waited on them expectantly. “Reservation for the Alexanders?”
The maitre’d inclined his head. “Right this way, sir.”
They were seated at their reserved table. A waiter introduced himself and asked if they would like to order drinks while waiting for the rest of the party to come. Alfred went with a shot of cognac. John wanted tonic water while his wife declined to order anything. Judging from her expression, she couldn’t wait to jump the table and attack Alfred with a butter knife.
Luckily, the rest of the party came shortly. Quinn and Vanessa. Trent and Arielle. His mom and the twins arrived five minutes after Trent. They were seated and exchanged pleasantries.
Alfred beamed at Savannah as they were about to place their order. “I must say, the years have been good to you,” he said to Savannah.
His mother laughed. “Too bad I can’t say the same to you, Alfie. You don’t look a day over ninety.”
The smile on Alfred’s face vanished. Jane looked at Savannah as if she wanted to kiss her on the spot.
Alfred cleared his throat. “Well, the past few years had been a trial. I’ve lost people who were dear to me.”
“Ah, you have my sincere condolences. You’ve not contacted our family since your brother passed away. I’ve hosted a few charity galas in the Hamptons over the years and I haven’t seen you at any of them.”
“I prefer to keep to myself.”
“Well, that's too bad. I find my family and friends keep me busy and young at heart. After all, age is just a number, right? But enough of this gloom and doom. I don’t want to spoil my appetite.” Savannah looked up to the waiter. “I think I’ll have steak tonight. Fillet mignon, medium rare. No, make it rare, please.”
“Excellent choice, madam,” said the waiter.
“I’m having what she’s having,” said Quinn.
“Me too,” said Trent.
The rest ordered drinks and entrees while cordial introductions were made, and then they made forced small talk.
“Music production, you say?” Alfred asked John when he told him what he did for living.
“Your hearing is impeccable, Mr. Benedict,” said John. Alfred did not seem to like that. John knew Alfred’s type. Perfectly charming in public, but it was all a very thin veneer and easily goaded.
“Ah. Well, forgive me, I was just surprised that someone of your... stature, was involved in a business like that.”
“My trade isn’t for the frail, Mr. Benedict,” he said diplomatically. “Show business is really competitive.
“I see. Well, I’m happy that Jane is finally settling down with someone who can provide for her. This niece of mine is awfully flaky, you know,” he said, forcing a smile and a chuckle at Jane’s expense.
“Settling down!” Savannah laughed, “If I know my John, the last thing either of them will be doing is ‘settling’ anything!”
Jane couldn’t hold back a smile at Savannah’s sincerity, but Alfred seemed put off. Not ten minutes into the dinner, and he was already uncomfortable.
“Well, some people simply aren’t able to make a living off of trust funds and inheritances, so they have to make a living for themselves. She’s remarkably adaptable like that, you know?” John said, and he could almost feel Jane’s blush next to him as she reached over and squeezed his hand under the table.
Alfred let out a very terse smile, and there was an uncomfortable pause for a few long moments before Savannah came to the rescue again.
Dinner proceeded in roughly the same fashion. Appetizers and the main course were served while everyone at the table either said very little or said something that made someone else tense. Alfred dropped comments about how well business was going, and John could smell Jane’s anger building up inside her. His mother spoke openly and freely as she always did, raving about her family and sometimes openly ridiculing Alfred’s pretense, and Alfred would shut down for a while afterwards. The twins said nothing the whole dinner.
Finally, when dessert was being served, John decided to dispense with the pleasantries.
“So, Mr. Benedict, I wonder if you have heard about some of the troubling incidents regarding George and Harry?” John asked.
His wife froze in her seat, and Alfred peered at John long and hard, as if gauging what he was trying to get at. “I’m afraid I haven’t.”
“Really? Seems odd,” John said, and Savannah raised her eyebrows, suddenly interested. “A couple of young, high-profile boys like them—it’s like they’ve dropped off the map, but you’d expect more publicity around the heirs of Rob Benedict.”
“My dear brother didn’t leave a public will, actually,” Alfred corrected John very quickly in a curt tone.
“Right, of course,” John said with a nod. “Even stranger, then, that there have been some rather suspicious circumstances around them lately, if nobody seems to mind their presence. Peanut butter in George’s lunch, mysterious winds pushing poor Harry into construction sites . . . a strange number of accidents for boys with so much money hovering around them, don’t you agree?”
“Most curious,” Alfred said, his face barely holding back a great deal of ire that John and Savannah could see as plain as anything.
“In any case,” John went on to Jane’s mortification, affably as ever, “I assume it won’t matter for too long. Since the boys are Rob’s direct descendants, it stands to reason they’ll take over the company once they’re of age, right?”
“That’s quite enough,” Alfred barked suddenly, and almost everyone jumped in their seats as he stood up, glaring daggers at John. “Your insinuations may pass as idle joking in Hollywood, but this is New York, Mr. Alexander. If you brought me to dinner just to throw unsubstantiated accusations at me, then you can continue this conversation with my attorney.” His malicious glint skidded toward Savannah. “Thank you for the lovely dinner. Good night.”
With that, Alfred turned and stormed out the restaurant, leaving all of them at the table in silence.
Quinn traded glances with Trent, then chuckling, shook his head. Even though Quinn was the al
pha of the clan, his oldest brother let John run the show tonight. If Quinn had his way, things would have gone differently.
Savannah wasted little time in breaking the stillness as she raised her wine glass to her lips. “My my. Isn’t he a charming little old man?” she said, sarcasm dripping in every word.
* * *
“I cannot believe you confronted him head on,” Jane said incredulously later that night as she and John closed the door of his room behind them. “This could be bad, John. I should have faced him myself.”
John shrugged off his jacket and flung it on to a nearby chair. “And let him bully you? I don’t think so. I don’t like people like Alfred getting their way. The world bends over backwards for them constantly, even when they’re plotting murder.”
Jane tried to look disapproving, but she smiled back at him, and John could feel her sincere approval after all was said and done. “Well for what it’s worth, thanks for going the extra mile for the twins. You didn’t have to do that, John. I still can’t believe you even set up that dinner.”
John turned to her as they stood beside the bed, held her hands in his, and brought them to his lips. He gave them a light kiss. “Babe, I think you still don’t understand. You’re my wife. I'm taking care of everything and I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you and the twin.”
"Every time you say that,I feel like a scum." She cast him a doubtful look.
"Because you blackmailed me? Please, when are you going to stop doing that? You're my wife, aren't you?"
"Yes, but—"
"How am I supposed to prove that I really want you, hmm?" He stroked her hair while he gazed deeply into her eyes. God damn, she was so beautiful and she didn't even realize it. Her scent wafted into his nose, stirring his beast awake. It made him restless. Legally, she was his and yet, he hadn't had the chance to get to know her intimately. With a swift move, he padded to the door and locked it. He didn't want any interruption from the twins. "Maybe, I know the answer. Come here." He pulled her into his embrace. She gave a little gasp. Tugging her chin up, he kissed her on the lips. Slowly. Savoring her sweetness. He kissed her open-mouthed. Full of passion. Tonight would be the night he claimed her. Making her his, as it should be.
With eyes half closed, she returned his kiss with the same heat.
His cock hardened instantly.
He leaned in to whisper into Jane’s ear, “I need you to turn around, kneel on the bed, and trust me entirely.”
He could feel her pulse quicken, and the tiger within him was growling. To him, this was like stalking prey.
"Wait, what are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.
It made him smile. "All naughty, adult things."
"Oh."
He watched her with hunger as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside. She started to turn to look away but he put his hands on her head and gently turned her to face forward.
“Watch me,” he said in a low, husky tone.
She shivered, turning her eyes forward and waiting. John moved to one of his drawers and slid it open carefully. He reached inside and withdrew a bundle of jute rope, running his fingers along it lovingly. Japanese bondage was one of his kinks. He thought she would enjoy it as well.
The natural rope had been conditioned with the utmost care so it didn't cut the skin. First, he burned off the stray fibers by running them through a wax candle. Using cotton gloves, he oiled the length of it and repeated the process until the rope became smooth and shiny.
Her eyes fell to the rope and widened. A nervous smile followed. "What is that?"
"Exactly what it looks like. Rope."
"Why do you have rope in your drawers?" Despite her accusation, her tone was tinged with amusement.
"Because I like it, and I have a reputation to uphold." He flexed the rope twice, testing its strength. “Turn around, Jane. Face the bed.”
She hesitated.
“You’ll like it. Promise.”
She did as he ordered. “Should… should we agree on a safe word first?”
“The safe word is uncle.” He lowered his head and smelled her hair. Christ. She was heavenly. Lust burned in his veins. “I doubt you’ll need it.”
Jane practically whimpered.
“Babe,” he whispered, “all your life, you had to be the strong one. But not tonight. Tonight, I want you trust me and let me in. Surrender to me.”
Three
Her heart pounded furiously as John’s eyes raked over her with a lustful gaze. His intention caught her off guard. She knew a man like John with a string of past girlfriends was probably amazing in bed. But bondage?
Uh-oh.
She swallowed hard. Despite her initial surprise, she was intrigued.
Her heart beat fast. Standing with her back turned to him, she could feel the heat emanating from the man. He stroked her hair and tucked it to the other side. He kissed her neck. Licked the sensitive skin behind her ear. That alone was enough to make her knees melt like ice.
“You have such beautiful skin,” he whispered. “Before this night is over, I’d like to taste every inch of you.”
Fuck. His promise made her giddy with anticipation.
He set his rope on the bed and proceeded to undress her. Relieving a woman of her clothes seemed like second nature to him. The black silk skirt that he had picked for the night fell to the floor with a whisper. Her underthings soon followed. She kicked off her fuck-me pumps; one sailed under the bed.
“Christ, Jane.” He sighed. His seductive, throaty voice sounded so damn sexy. “I wish you knew how beautiful you are.”
She wasn’t sure if he really meant it but the praise made her happy nevertheless. It felt nice to be wanted. Or to relinquish control, putting her trust in a man who promised to never hurt her. Her heart felt a thousand times lighter.
As if he could sense what was in her mind, he kissed the shell of her ear and whispered, “Don’t worry. I promise you only pleasure tonight.”
She melted on the spot, her giddy heart floating to cloud nine.
He took the rope and flexed it behind her again.
She peeked over her shoulder, curious of what he was doing.
John folded the length of the rope into half. “Lift your arms above your head,” he said.
She did what he asked without a peep.
He wrapped the rope under her breasts. He then threaded the rope around her back and repeated the process until it formed a loop above her breasts. She gasped when he tightened the crossing knots. Her lush chest was tightly bound, a little too tight perhaps. It was a bit hard to breathe, but the binding made her breasts more prominent. Her nipples hardened, jutting forward.
But he wasn’t finished. He looped the ropes on her shoulders and connected the knots on her back. It seemed like he was tying it into an elaborate pattern.
“This knot is called ‘The bridge between the pearls’,” he explained. “It makes your lovely breasts and nipples more sensitive to touch.”
He checked the knots and seemed pleased with them. With his thumb and forefinger, he tugged one of her nipples and rolled it experimentally. A moan escaped from her throat. Pleasure and yearning made her already wet pussy wetter. He made an amused sound. “Would you look at this? Your body is very responsive, my dear Jane. I bet before long, you’ll beg me to suck these.”
Oh yes, please, she thought.
He got more ropes from the drawer. With her breasts and upper torso tightly bound, he started working on her arms. He took her arms and folded them behind her back, then began by binding her wrists first and connected them with the previous knots on her back. The ropes continued to bind her arms upward, and by the time he declared himself finished, she couldn’t move a muscle.
“You okay so far?” he inquired.
She nodded vigorously.
“Excellent.”
The restraints limited her body movement and the knots from the ropes seemed to have been placed strategically against her skin to give o
ff a different feeling. The helplessness. The pressure points where the knots pressed against her body. She wondered if a session of acupuncture with a master would feel like this.
John became silent. He traced his fingers over his handy work. Moments later, his lips pressed against her neck. A shiver ran up her spine as he sucked on her soft, sensitive flesh. She instinctively tried to squirm away, but John wouldn’t let her go anywhere. She bit back her moan as her sex responded. He finally stopped his teasing and whispered, “Remember, I promised only pleasure.”
She staggered like a newborn fawn, weak and fully aroused. He motioned her to sit, so she scooted to the edge of the bed, waiting…
He stalked around to the opposite side of the bed, and her heart raced at the sight of him. His flashing green eyes seemed more alive than ever, and the look on his face was positively ravenous. The way he was looking at her, his bound and restrained prey, was enough to make her dizzy.
Only pleasure, he promised.
Only pleasure.
Slowly, he began to strip out of his clothes. She admired his perfectly toned physique. And his magnificent cock. Holy Mother of Christ, she thought dizzily, I should have known he packed serious fire power. Maybe this was one of the reasons women couldn’t get enough of him. Suddenly, her mouth watered.
“Hey, my face is up here,” he said with a big grin.
She couldn’t help giggling. She sobered immediately and drank in every one of his rippling muscles. She wanted to touch him, but couldn’t. The damn restraints made it impossible, and left her frustrated.
He climbed on the bed, sat next to her, and pulled her into his lap. She straddled him face to face. Her heart pounded erratically as his cock pressed against her sex. Skin to skin. Nothing in between. She could feel his body heat radiating from him and it overwhelmed her.
Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer. He kissed the hollow of her throat while he gyrated his hips against her. Fuck, she closed her eyes. Not being able to touch him started to irritate her. Lust engulfed her in one swoop. Fire burned inside her veins. Aching. Needy. All that yearning filled her down to her core, making her slick.
Wicked As He Comes: BBW Tiger Shifter Paranormal Romance (Tiger In Her Bed Book 3) Page 5