3.56 p.m. For fuck’s sake.
3.59 p.m. I take a deep breath and leaving the living room walk toward the hallway.
4.00 p.m.
Jaron Rose walks through my door, and finds me leaning nonchalantly against the hallway table. He is dressed all in black again. And damn if it doesn’t make him look devilishly good. He stops when he sees me. We stare at each other. My thoughts swirl like crazy, untangle and drop into a confused heap at the bottom of my mind. Desire flashes like fire between us. The memory of the hot iron thrust of his cock flashes into my empty mind.
He smiles, a hint of something rich and secret. He should come with a warning. Beware. Undercurrents here. Dark and dangerous undercurrents. ‘It’s not too late to get on the dining table,’ he says seductively.
Even I have to admit: he is über, über cool.
‘Most people knock and wait to be allowed in,’ I say sarcastically.
‘I’m not most people,’ he says, and gives me a look so filthy it makes my toes curl.
‘What did you do? Steal my key and make an impression of it?’
He grins. ‘Nope. I’m just good with locks and clocks. Thought I’d save you the trouble of opening the door.’
‘Well, don’t.’
‘Are you always this unfriendly when someone is trying to be helpful?’
I fix him with an unfriendly, slightly suspicious stare. ‘Ebony dropped in yesterday.’
His eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t appear in the least bit concerned.
‘Right after you left… And when she realized that you had just fucked me she burst into tears and ran away.’
For a moment he stares at me expressionlessly and then he breaks into a grin. ‘You opened the door in your torn nightie, didn’t you?’
I fidget uncomfortably. ‘I may have done. But so what if I did? You’re the cheat.’
‘Awww… Did she make you feel bad?’
‘As a matter of fact, yes, you brute.’
He throws his head back and laughs callously.
I glare at him. ‘I’m glad you think breaking your girlfriend’s heart is funny because she looked a mess yesterday.’
He takes a step toward me and I instinctively take a step back.
He stops. ‘Are you scared of me, Billie Black?’
‘No, I AM not.’ I put my hands on my hips and glower at him.
‘Don’t run when I come towards you then,’ he says, and walks unhurriedly to me.
My pulse starts racing and for some ridiculous reason my throat snaps shut. Watch out, the warning flashes in my mind, and I have to quell the desire to step sideways—backwards is out of the question since there is a wall behind me. So I stand my ground and hardly flinch when his hand slams into the wall, and he leans one massive shoulder against it, effectively trapping me.
I squirm and look up into those dark green eyes. Oh man! Hurriedly, I drop my gaze to his mouth. Fuck me. I drop it lower to his throat. I am on safer ground watching his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he chuckles. The warm flutter of his breath on my forehead is a bit more distracting.
He puts one thick finger on my lower lip. ‘What’s the matter, baby?’
‘You’re crowding me. Can you move, please?’
‘I don’t think so.’
I look up then. His eyes are twinkling with laughter. ‘You think this is funny?’
He grasps my shoulder and a finger grazes my throat like a trail of fire. ‘Not really.’
I train my eyes on his hair. It is so blond it is like spun gold. I want to twine my fingers through it and pull his head down to my mouth. The thought irritates me. I am not sleeping with him ever again.
‘What if I tell you, you’ve been played?’ he purrs.
I jerk my neck away from his touch and look at him suspiciously. ‘By who? You?’
‘You rubbed Ebony’s face in it, and she punished you by pretending we are more than we are.’
I frown. ‘Are you trying to say she doesn’t care you’re fucking me, only that I rubbed her face in it?’
‘Sounds about right.’
‘That sounds like the most unbelievable rubbish, the kind of thing a man would make up to excuse his bad behavior.’
He shrugs. ‘I told you the truth. Believe whatever you want.’
I suddenly remember the movie, Bridget Jones’s Diary. The misunderstanding was entirely caused because the woman the heroine thought was the hero’s girlfriend was actually just a lesbian friend staying over. Once that was cleared up it all ended very nicely.
‘Is Ebony a lesbian?’
He looks at me strangely. ‘No. Why?’
‘Oh.’ That’s that theory laid to rest. ‘If what you say is true why did she turn up at my door in the first place?’
‘You’ll never know now, will you? Since you rubbed her up the wrong way.’
‘You’re both mad.’
‘I’ve been thinking about you today.’
‘I’m not finished talking about Ebony,’ I say pointedly.
‘I am. I don’t want to talk about her. I’m here because you want me and I want you.’
‘Has anyone ever told you, you’re pushy?’
‘No, everyone else thinks I’m charming.’
‘Like James Bond? Smooth charm and brutal purpose?’
He smiles suavely. ‘See, we can agree when we try.’ He puts his hands around me and pulls me close. Our thighs touch.
My belly starts melting like hot chocolate, but with great determination I put a hand to his chest and lean away. Underneath my palm his heartbeat is steady and quick. The man is impossible to resist. ‘I don’t like James Bond,’ I whisper.
‘Are you always so cocky, Miss Black?’
‘Truthful,’ I correct. I look up at him defiantly. His eyes are hungry.
‘I don’t like the look on your face.’
‘Too bad.’
‘We’ll have to do something about changing it.’
‘So now you’re going to force yourself on me?’
‘Force you?’ He laughs. ‘You’re gagging for it,’ he taunts softly, and leans in, crushing me against the wall. His cock strains big, and hard, and hot, actually impressively hot, against my stomach. The thought of that inside me makes my knees go weak. I know he’s about to kiss me, and reason and the rest of the world are about to disappear into a hot haze. My whole existence will be just about him and what he is doing to my body.
I watch with a mixture of horror and fascination as his mouth comes down on mine. The kiss is ferocious. Vicious. Perhaps too vicious. I feel blood on my tongue. But it is exactly what I need. I have spent all day furious with him and myself and this raw, unrelenting kiss was just the perfect antidote to my restless, angry excitement. The heady flavor of his mouth and the scent of him make me spiral off. I suck his tongue hard and wild excitement pumps through me. It is so huge and potent it blocks everything else out.
When he raises his face, I am panting like some lust-crazed sex beast.
‘That’s better,’ he whispers, ‘because you have been tantalizing me for many, many months.’ He inserts a thumb into my mouth and pulls my lower lip down. ‘And making me hard at all hours of the night.’
The tips of my breasts ache and I rub them restlessly against his hard abs. The sensation that then brings makes me want to grab him by his fucking golden locks and yank his mouth down to my nipples so he can suck them.
Clenching his big fist in my hair he tugs my face up at him. His eyes scorch my skin. My mouth parts automatically. Surrender is what he is looking for and surrender is what he is getting in spades. With a triumphant smile he takes his thumb out of my mouth, and barely giving me time to breathe let alone think, swoops down.
If the other kiss had been vicious this one is barely controlled. His tongue pushes in while his cock imitates the movement against my belly. My sex clenches hard. God! I so want to be broken apart by this man it fucking hurts. He cups my ass and lifts me off the ground and slams me into the wa
ll. I curl my legs tightly around him and cross my ankles.
His hand slips into my top and sliding around my waist moves up my back. It makes short work of my bra clasp and moving to the front cups a breast, roughly, possessively. He squeezes my nipple. A fierce frisson of sexual heat hits me between my legs. In an instant his mouth leaves mine and my top is yanked over my head, and my bra lands on the floor. Very briefly my brain tries to grasp at some coherence and tries, actually tries to question the sanity of what I am doing and the answer is obvious. My life has become a scene from a cheap porn movie!
But then his lips claim mine again and my brain shuts down. I fucking need this… The rest of the sentence should have been… like a hole in the head. But like I said before my brain has shut down. My blue pants are unzipped while I obligingly unclasp my ankles and straighten my legs to help them slide down my legs, and then my knickers are brutally ripped off me. There I am naked and he is fully dressed. Great. He leaves my mouth and looks down on me. I am dripping wet and shameless.
‘Beg me to take you.’
I shake my head. Nope. No way am I uttering words of surrender.
‘Beg me to take you,’ he repeats. His voice is low and dangerous.
‘Go fuck yourself,’ I spit stubbornly.
‘All right then. Beg me not to take you.’
‘You’re killing the moment,’ I warn ominously.
‘Basically you don’t want to beg either way.’
‘Basically.’
He nods, and bending his head sucks a nipple. My chest thrusts toward his mouth and my brain stops functioning again. He lifts his head and looks at me with a rueful smile. ‘Maybe not today, but you’ll beg before I’m through with you.’
To my utter frustration and shock he turns around and begins walking toward the door.
‘See you tomorrow at seven,’ he calls out.
Without his warmth I feel oddly bereft. I had let myself become totally swept up in the moment and now it is shattered. He is the unfaithful lover and I am his bit on the side. This has got to be on my terms too. He can’t just come and go as he pleases.
‘If you walk out of that door now, don’t bother coming back,’ I say quietly.
He turns around to face me, lets his eyes travel with leisurely unconcern over my naked body. ‘I’ll come when I want and I’ll take what I want when I want. And there is not a damn thing you can do about it!’
And to prove his point he walks toward me and yanks me to his body so I fall against its hard length. He puts a hand on my buttocks and presses me against his erection. And I have to fight the desire to beg him to enter me. Looking into my eyes he slowly inserts a finger into my wet folds. I bite my lower lip helplessly. He takes his finger out and puts it into his mouth and sucks it.
‘You will be mine,’ he says with such presumptuous arrogance that I am struck dumb with disbelief. I stare at his dirty blond eyebrows. Very rakish. Very sexy. My mind becomes a bewildering mixture of fury, sexual excitement, and admiration for his freakishly attractive eyebrows.
He lets go of me, and spinning around walks away from my frustrated body.
I watch his rear end go. The man has a world-class ass, hard and perfectly rounded. And if memory serves, smooth as a baby’s butt. He stops by the sideboard, reaches into his trouser pocket and brings out his wallet. From one of its sleeves he fishes out a small piece of paper. He slides it on the sideboard and walks toward the door. At the door he turns and looks at me again, his eyes darkening. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.’
Then he shuts the door behind him.
For some moments I don’t move. Never in my life have I been so totally and so exclusively involved with and aware of someone. To the point where nothing else matters. Everything about him affects me, the soft blond hair, the deeply green eyes, that silky smile. Even things I thought I would despise in a lover, the hardness of his body, the arrogance, the domineering streak, excite me to the point of madness.
Naked, I walk toward the sideboard and pick up the paper. I unfold it and… It is my phone number…in my own handwriting. Whoa! Hold the horses. He kept it from that first night. All this time. And yet he did not phone. Why? I take it to my nose and smell the leather of his wallet. And he did not fear Ebony finding it either. How strange. How inexplicable.
Four
A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.
—Mark Twain
I pull on my clothes and remember that night more than six months ago when I did something I had never done before. I went to a rave club alone. It was a hot and sweaty dive. I had dropped a couple of Es and lost count of the vodka shots I had downed. Some guys had picked me up and put me on one of those giant speaker boxes and I was feeling on top of the world.
It was a crazy feeling, the music pounding underneath me, skin tingling, head buzzing. All around me rainbows of colors flashed and illuminated a sea of dancing, sweating bodies. I felt deeply in love with them and at peace with the whole world. At that moment it didn’t matter that my best friend, Lana, had found the love of her life and had less time for me. I even forgot that I had broken up with my long-term girlfriend and that I had arrived lonely and more than a little sad. High as a kite I sat on my throbbing throne, eyes closed, and head furiously nodding to the music: oh yeah! All was well in my world.
Then: someone or something touched my neck.
I opened my eyes and there he was. This blond giant. For a second I thought I was hallucinating. I have seen trains arriving through tunnels and sausages falling from the ceiling while I have been less high. I reached out and touched the giant. My hand hit flesh— well, I call it flesh, but it was more of a wall. So I knew I wasn’t hallucinating. I peered into his face. It’s really hard to see something properly when you’re so off your cake. The lines blur. Sometimes you get the eye color wrong. People’s voices sound like they’ve sucked on a helium balloon. And it’s hard to really distinguish features. Everyone’s a friendly blob.
He leaned in and shouted near my ear that the spider tattoos on my neck were some of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. I gulped. The music was so damn loud I must have misheard that. Nobody—and I mean nobody—had ever told me how lovely my tattoos were. Was he trying to be friendly or was he trying to pick me up?
I stared hard at him.
In fact, the giant was really good-looking. He had straight blond hair and he was big, real big. His shoulders and chest were massive and packed with muscles. He should have repelled me. I like soft curves—Megan Fox is my cup of tea—but he didn’t. I watched the curve of his mouth and experienced that first stirring of sexual curiosity for a man. For a man? Never before. He suddenly wrapped his large hands around my waist, lifted me off the speaker and put me on the ground.
‘I said,’ he repeated, ‘I love your tattoos.’
Ha ha. A really good-looking guy was trying to pick me up. More intriguing, he seemed to be as sober as a judge.
‘Are you for real?’ I slurred, squinting all the way up at him. It felt as though he must have been at least seven feet tall. OK, that was an exaggeration, but that night, lighted by the searching strobe lights, he seemed absolutely enormous. Huge. His shadow swallowed me whole.
‘Yeah,’ he grinned.
‘You have really gorgeous teeth. Are you American?’
He widened his smile in acknowledgement of my compliment. ‘No, I’m not American.’
Then I was too high to notice that he was using his East End working class accent. ‘They are diligent about teeth over there,’ I said, merrily unaware of the disguise he had affected.
‘I want to take you home.’
My eyes boggled. ‘Oops!’
‘Is that a yes?’
‘Oops is always a no.’
‘It doesn’t look like no from where I am standing.’
He really would make a handsome toy for some straight girl. He was almost edible… To a straight girl, that is. ‘You’re bu
ilt for bed and everything, but I’m a dyke, mate, and generally we’re not like gay men. We won’t befriend straight men. In fact, for the most part we tend to be downright hostile to you lot,’ I informed him, smiling benevolently.
‘That’s only because you haven’t been to bed with me yet,’ he stated.
Even though I was so fucking high, I was impressed. That kind of haughty, patronizing confidence is near impossible to carry off successfully. And he managed not to sound like a dick while saying something that old hat.
‘I like pussy. Pussy I can dominate and eat. But a dick? What the hell does one do with one of those things?’ I asked.
‘I’ll show you,’ he purred and ran his fingers along the inside of my bare arm.
I blame the drugs. They made me horny. They made me want things I had never planned on wanting. Before I knew it words I had never dreamed I would utter were pouring out of my mouth.
‘I’ll fuck you, but I’m not sucking your dick or doing anything else gross like that.’
Another flash of teeth. Hawt! There’s no way those are not made in America. ‘No, problem,’ he replied instantly. ‘I’m not too keen on that practice either. Like you, I like pussy.’
When I think back now I’m sure he would have got nowhere without all the other incidentals like I was lonely. I was high. I was drunk. But that night I found him intriguing. I felt the desire for him spread inside me, like a living thing, until it was no longer the music that was throbbing in my veins but the foreign need to feel this man inside me. The thought of being eaten and filled by him was unbelievably exciting. I felt myself become wet. I looked at him hard. Well, as hard as one can under the glow of the tablet.
So we went back to Mr. Luscious’s flat. An unremarkable, strangely cold and empty place. As soon as we got through the door he jumped on me. He was hungry! Oh boy was he hungry for pussy. And after he had made me come he picked me up like a doll and laid me on top of his body. His flesh was warm and sweat-slicked. I thought I would hate it. A man’s sweat.
But I loved it.
As a matter of fact I adored the way I slipped and slid on his big body. Suddenly I was small and delicate…and defenseless. I didn’t even hear the sound of foil tearing. And then the big moment. He lifted me clean off his body and impaled me on his shaft. Shit! A cock inside me. Never thought I’d see the day. So totally different from a dildo or a vibrator or a condom-covered cucumber. A cock is thick and hard and warm and…alive. I bounced on it until he erupted inside me. After that he made me rub myself on the bone of his groin until I came.
You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 2) Page 39