"Take me on a tour," she demanded. Even if he didn't let her stay inside, she had to know what it looked like.
"As you wish." Thomas bowed low. He'd taken off his suit jacket and had loosened his tie, and as the sun beat down upon him, he'd begun to undo the buttons of his shirt. The details of the broad, toned chest Erika couldn't help but notice back in HR were revealed bit by bit. When all of the buttons were undone, Thomas left the shirt hanging loose from his shoulders and directed her down the boardwalk. It was time to turn her eyes from his body and to the beautiful piece of architecture he lived in.
There was only one bedroom. Thomas led her through the kitchen and living room, but when they stopped by the bedroom and he declared it the only one, Erika didn't know what to think. There were clearly other rooms down the hall, and the house had appeared large enough from the shore that she knew there was still space left to be explored.
"The rest probably isn't important for you," Thomas said when she questioned him about it. "Guy stuff."
It was exactly the kind of excuse Michael and all of his friends had used when they were younger to get her to go away. Erika wasn't going to put up with it anymore.
"Show me," she insisted. "I want to see."
Thomas inhaled deeply in irritation and rolled his eyes skyward. Erika knew that he wanted to tell her to take a hike and get lost, but now that she'd purchased his assistance he was under her control. One of the wealthiest men in America was hers to command. The little power rush was satisfying.
"It's stuff you wouldn't care about," Thomas warned her as he approached the next door. "But if you insist."
With a turn of the knob and a light push, the door opened. What lay inside took Erika's breath away all over again.
Hidden behind the door on the other side of the bedroom wall was a room designed for jamming out. Guitars of different shapes and makes were held up by stunning racks. A polished drum kit sat in the corner, assembled and ready to go. A few microphones, secured in their stands, waited for vocal feedback. Lined up against the back wall were more amps than she'd ever seen in one place.
Thomas was the CEO of Dynamic Horizons, yes, but he was also the guitarist for Ten Percent Down. Of course he'd have a room like this. Erika's eyes flicked this way and that, taking it all in. Tommy had played in a garage band with her brother, but she'd never heard him play live since he'd come a professional. From what she heard from her youth, pressed against the garage door in the kitchen and gazing at them from across the street he'd been okay, but Erika wasn't sure how he'd progressed over the years.
It was time to change that.
"We're going to jam," Erika announced. Thomas looked from the room to her, lips setting with uncertainty.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, incredulous.
"You'll play guitar and I'll sing," Erika announced. "You guys never gave me a chance to show my stuff. Now that you're working for me, you're going to jam out with me whether you like it or not."
How many times had they chased her away from band practice? Now there was no place left for Thomas to run.
"You're going to sing?" Thomas said flatly, almost so that it wasn't a question at all. "You've got access to the world's best hotels, any shows or events you could ever hope to see, and a private jet at your disposal, but you want to come to my house so I can play guitar for you while you sing?"
The jerk. Erika crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes just a little.
"As my assistant it's your job to do, not to question. So let's go in and let's get you a guitar and hook me up with a mic and we'll jam."
Thomas raised a hand and rubbed his eyes, the space between his thumb and his index finger resting on the bridge of his nose. It was an exasperated look, but Erika wasn't willing to back down. He'd been hired to do what she wanted, and she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. Thomas was still a jerk, but as a man he had to stand by his word. These were the terms of the content, which she'd won fair and square.
"Fine," he said heavily. "You know any Ten Percent Down tracks?"
The vocalist was male, but Erika was familiar with them. They were on the radio from time to time, on the rock stations, and she was confident she could do some of the more popular tracks justice.
"Let's do Sugar Pill," she said, squeezing past him and entering the room. Soundproof walls and, apart from the instruments that would damper the sound a bit, good acoustic design. Back at Dynamic Horizons Erika worked in marketing, but it didn't mean she was clueless about the music world. Through high school and college she'd participated in theater as an extracurricular, and she'd developed an eye for what kind of rooms worked. This room was designed for sound.
"You're serious," he mumbled, following her. Thomas ran a tongue over his top teeth, shook his head, then shook the open shirt from his shoulders so that it pooled on the floor. His chest was smooth and sculpted, hairless except for the thin, dark trail of hair that led from his navel to disappear beneath the waistline of his pants. Erika turned from the microphones to find him partially disrobed, and for a moment she was stunned to silence. God, was he handsome. Time had aged him well.
"If you're serious then I'm not going to hold back." He strode across the room and grabbed one of the electric guitars there. Angular electric blue patterns crossed the body, shining like mother of pearl. Thomas plugged himself into one of the amps at the back of the room and gestured towards the microphones. "Do you need help choosing one and setting it up, or did watching us jam from across the street teach you all you needed to know about music?"
More of the same scalding attitude. As rude as it was, Erika was happy to see that money hadn't changed him. He was still treating her like the annoying brat she'd been.
"I'm able to set up just fine, thank you," Erika shot back. She selected a microphone and positioned its stand, then plugged it in. They were top quality, and she was sure the sound quality would be outstanding. To prove herself she turned the amps on, sure that Thomas had been waiting for her to try to start singing only to find the equipment didn't work. Power hummed through them, and Thomas ran a thumb tenderly down the strings of his guitar. The sound was chilling. After all these years he was finally going to let her hang out and play with the band.
"Guitar intro," Erika reminded him, as though he'd forgotten his own material. "Lead me in."
She plucked the mic from its stand to weigh it in her hand, but her focus was really on Thomas. Shirtless, a guitar strapped across his chest, handsome even without any extra help, he was more than just a pretty picture. A rock star, Erika realized for the first time. Here she stood in the presence of a rock star billionaire, and they'd been giving each other a hard time like it meant nothing. Like she was part of the fold.
Pangs of arousal spiked her pulse, and Erika felt her cheeks warming once more. But when Thomas launched into the intro, fingers navigating each quick note as his guitar sang shrill and skillfully, that feeling grew darker and richer inside of her. There was no question that she was attracted to this successful, sarcastic, handsome man. Erika's heart raced, and she nearly missed her cue.
Michael had never told his friends that she sang, and they'd never given her a chance to prove herself. As her voice navigated the notes, adjusted to fit her feminine range, Thomas looked up from his guitar with surprise. Their eyes met and Erika felt sparks fly. All of this time and they hadn't known the other's talents. Now they unraveled their mysteries to each other, letting the other peep facets not often seen by others. The lanky teenager had grown into a capable, talented man. Tommy faded away. This was Thomas, and there was no comparing him to the past.
The song ended on a lingering note from the guitar, and they stood catching their breath, eyes locked. Erika's hand trembled just slightly, the tension thick. For a long moment they stood frozen, staring, and then Thomas stalked across the room and grabbed her by the chin. The guitar hung heavily from its strap, and she felt the taunt strings press against her arm. Nose to nose they sto
od, Thomas staring down into her eyes with that sharp, scrupulous stare. All Erika could do was gaze back, her own eyes docile and wide.
"Still short," Thomas whispered, but the words were like dark silk. As Erika parted her lips to protest, he caught them with his own. The kiss was greedy, hungry, and everything she had thought he could give her. A man as powerful and stuck up as Thomas didn't have time to be sweet and soft — this was a man who worked hard for what he wanted, and took it with certainty once it was his. Erika's heart hammered in her chest — she was what he wanted now, and he was not afraid to claim her.
"That's an impressive set of pipes for a Pipsqueak," he whispered as their lips parted. "You hid that all those years from me?"
"You never gave me a chance," Erika whispered back. The kiss had left her feeling weak, but also craving more. Feelings long ago forgotten rose to the surface and struck her hard. "You guys always turned me away and told me to get lost."
"If I knew that the hotheaded, irritating squirt who had a crush on me could sing like that," Thomas whispered, letting his lips brush against hers, "I would have booted Mike off of vocals in a heartbeat. That little garage band could have gone somewhere."
The last time they had seen each other — she remembered it clearly. The trio was back from college on break, and she'd heard the cackling of her brother and his idiot friends from upstairs, from her room. She'd run up the stairs to find them in her room, her diary open. Michael was reading from it aloud in a mocking tone, Luke and Tommy laughing as he revealed the contents of her heart. Even as a teen she'd been attracted to Thomas, and in that moment she knew that he knew. She'd pried the diary from Michael's hand, shrieking how she hated them all. How she hated Tommy. Then she'd thrown the diary right at his head and had left a mark. It was the last time she'd ever seen him — well, until now. Now it was like Thomas had ripped a page out of that old diary and breathed life into it.
One of his hand pried the microphone from her hand, and Thomas finally pulled away. Without explanation he placed it back on its stand, laid his guitar to rest, and turned off the amps.
"What are you doing?" Erika asked. "I thought that we were going to play together."
Warmth still fogged her brain, and the sensation of his lips against hers had yet to fade. Arousal snaked downward and lit her aflame, and she knew she had begun to grow wet for him already. With an attitude as dominant and frustrating as his, it wasn't a big surprise; Thomas had always managed to worm his way under her skin, and now he used that ability to arouse rather than to annoy.
"We are going to play together," Thomas replied, turning towards her and taking her by the wrist. The touch of his hand was possessive, but Erika accepted it and was stirred by it. She was under his spell. "I want to hear how your voice sounds under strain. I want to see how you sing while breathless."
With her wrist in his firm hold, Thomas led her from the music room and towards the door. Erika's pulse thudded in her ears, and the warmth she felt heated until it was near burning. Thomas hadn't said what he intended to do with her, but she had an inkling. And if she were right...
"What do you want me to sing?"
"My name." The words cut dark and heavy, confirming her suspicions. A decade older than her, her brother's old friend, the rock star and billionaire, was taking her to his bed to claim as his own. "I want to hear you whimper it. Scream it. Gasp it. I want it to be the only word you can think to say. And I want to drive you through pleasure until your voice breaks and quivers, and you're reduced to nothing beneath me."
Even as she walked, Erika felt the pulse of arousal wash through her. The last boyfriend she had was a programmer who thought that taking her to dinner and then home afterwards to make her watch him play video games was romantic, and now here she was in the Caribbean with a man both dark and so much older and more experienced.
Thomas tugged her down the hall and into the bedroom, pulling her through the door and dragging her down onto the bed. They fell together, Thomas' arms wrapping around her tight, and when they hit the mattress his lips were upon hers again. Erika wasn't going to be won so easily. The sense of rivalry and opposition hadn't completely faded, and she was determined to get the upper hand. Putting the weight of her body behind her, the pair rolled across the bed as they kissed, each of them struggling to dominate the other. At first Thomas indulged her, but as the heated struggle continued, Erika felt his true strength emerge. Soon his hands had secured her wrists, tightened almost painfully, and he pushed her down against the mattress with force. Both of them panted; the tousle had left them both riled.
"Still stubborn, I see," Thomas breathed down at her as he pressed her wrists against the mattress. "I guess you still have some growing to do, Pipsqueak."
"I'm twenty-four now," Erika replied, just as winded.
"Still so young. At twenty-four I was just getting my feet wet fresh out of business school while playing with Ten Percent Down. Look where I am now."
Erika couldn't help but notice where he was now — on top of her, a budding erection pressing through his pants and against her stomach. Desire turned in her gut as she imagined that length rutting inside of her. Thomas was undoubtedly wild in bed, and she was eager to experience him.
"I'd rather think about where you will be ten minutes from now," Erika crooned, eyes narrowing with mischievous glee. "You talk a big game, Mr. Wilmarth. I'm interested to see if you can live up to the hype."
Thomas smirked, white teeth gleaming as his lips parted.
"If you're unsatisfied with my performance, you can order me to do a better job. This week and this week alone I am yours, and your every wish is my command."
A paid vacation. A private island more beautiful than any place she'd ever been. A powerful billionaire who doubled as a rock star. An old childhood flame. Erika knew she'd never be this lucky again.
"Then that's an order, Tommy," she grinned. "Live up to your hype. Give me everything you've got."
"Minx," the word was almost purred. Thomas shifted so that he could pin her wrists down over her head with one hand while the other caught her chin and held it firmly. "Be careful what you wish for."
The raw power he exerted turned her on to no end. Erika gasped and felt herself grow wetter yet, knowing that after all this time, Thomas was going to be hers. They kissed again, Thomas holding her head in place and crushing her lips beneath his own. Then, when it broke, his hand left her chin and teased the bottom of her skirt up her thigh. His fingertips trailed across the nylon she wore, but Erika could feel how light the touch was. Thomas let his hand ghost across her skin only to disappear beneath the fabric of her skirt, running along her inner thigh.
With other lovers, Erika had always been self-conscious about her weight. Her thighs in particular were a source of her shame, too curvy to be conventionally beautiful. But the way Thomas touched her made her forget about all of her insecurities, and when his finger dipped in to caress the crotch of her panties, Erika lost most of semblance of higher thought completely.
"Oh my god," she whispered in pleasure as he grinned.
"You're wet for me, Pipsqueak," he whispered back, voice carrying clearly to her ears. "What do you think Michael would do if he found out I was getting his little sister soaking wet like you are? We'd better keep this our secret."
Erika closed her eyes and let her head rest against the mattress. Every word Thomas said was calculated, and he was pushing every one of her buttons in the right way. The forbidden connection. The power he had over her as her old brother's friend. How she couldn't hide how she felt about him, even had she wanted to. Thomas knew how she wanted him, just as he'd known she'd had a thing for him a long time ago. There was no hiding from a man as determined and resourceful as Thomas Wilmarth.
A hand still holding down her wrists, Thomas kept his position and caressed the wet spot with his fingers, running up from time to time to tease the fabric above her clit. Breathing was harder now, and each inhalation was breathy. Erika twisted upon
the bed as much as Thomas would allow, and soon she pressed down against him with greed.
"Needy little girl," Thomas murmured. The hand left her panties and wove under her to undo the zipper on her skirt. Soon the garment had fallen to the floor, and with it the nylons that had once covered her legs. "I'm going to release your wrists," he told her, voice severe and laden with lust, "but you're going to be a good girl and take off your shirt and then lie still for me."
"Okay," Erika said. The pressure on her wrists lessened, then disappeared completely. Once she was free, Erika pulled her blouse off and over her head as Thomas pulled her soaked panties from her frame. Left only in her bra, her body was exposed for him and Erika found she didn't mind at all. When her blouse was cast off she laid back upon the bed as he'd requested, not causing any fuss.
"Time to sing, Pipsqueak," Thomas told her, his breath ghosting across the skin of her thighs. Either of his hands parted her legs, and he wasted no time in running his tongue along her engorged clit.
"Thomas," she cried, heart throbbing as pleasure ripped through her and left her craving more. If this was what Thomas wanted, she'd sing for him. She'd cry his name until her voice was hoarse and her vocal cords gave out. Isolated from society on a private island, they could be as loud as they wanted to be.
His tongue traced hard circles around her bud and flicked across it at random to keep her guessing and begging for more. Each invocation of his name grew more desperate and increased in volume, and Erika could imagine the smug grin on his face. Soon there was no need to imagine it at all — Thomas rose up her body and pressed himself down against her. His erection, now full, pressed against her stomach with need. At some point when she'd been lost to her own pleasure he'd stripped off his pants, and now only a pair of boxer briefs remained to keep his thick member contained.
The Sheikh's Secret Page 34