by Susan Arden
“No. But I’ve got to return next month. Is it a big deal if I wanted to return once a month?” I lowered my voice into a whisper. “Would that be possible?”
Graham channeled his fingers through his hair, his gaze holding me captive. A muscle clicked along his jaw during the moments we sat locked together. He had to be deliberating. When he traced his fingertips down my body and grabbed me around the waist, squeezing as he exhaled, I forgot I’d asked a question for a split second. How did he do it? A shiver raced along my body, targeting me between my legs still filled with his cock.
He shook his head, trailing a finger up my thigh. “Without a date certain, I don’t know if every month would be possible. What if we were traveling in Hong Kong or to Santa Cruz? I said you’d be with me every day for six months. If you returned, I’d come with you. So, it’d require a free spot in my schedule. If you’re talking about returning and being flexible about the date, I don’t see a problem in us coming back for the day. I want you to be happy, Eliza.”
This was what the press didn’t get about him, or failed to relay. He might be a master in the business world of mergers and acquisitions, but this powerful skill or instinct he possessed, emanated exponentially outward at close range. Graham came across as charismatically magnetic in knowing what to do and when, and his expertise crossed over into the bedroom in how he got what he desired on his own terms. If he was an opportunist as Luke had said, then lucky me. He half-smiled, moving me over his lap. His commitment to bringing me back without demanding to know the reason, surprised me.
“You’re really good at what you do. Aren’t you?” I asked.
He stopped moving, and we simply looked at each other. “What do you mean?”
I shook my head. No need to state the obvious. “Never mind. But thank you.” I smiled at him and let my gaze trace down from his face.
Graham wrapped my hair around his fist, drawing my head back. “You’ve opened a door, and this minor request of yours might help you understand why I do what I do. Your happiness is important to me. What we do is as much tied to my hunger to dominate as it is to fulfill your needs. If you’re wanting, then I’m not doing my part. Eliza, withhold from me, and I’ll be less than pleased. Do you understand?”
“You want me to tell you everything running through my mind? You’d cry uncle in ten minutes.” I mentally rolled my eyes and stopped. “Hey, does that go both ways?”
His grasp on my hair tightened, and the heat in his gaze intensified. The barometer of seriousness skyrocketed. “If there are hard limits for you, I’m always open to discussion. This isn’t about my need to find a woman whom I can lay my hands upon because of some strange urge to hurt her. This is about control and balancing power. The part you play in this equation is more powerful than you probably imagine.”
I began to rock my hips back and forth, watching him. Absorbing how his eyes darkened and his features sharpened with just a flex of my hips, I murmured, “I’m learning.”
“Good to hear.” He released a low, rough laugh.
Now I was interested in detecting even a slight change in his expression. He was right; this was a learning experience. “And what about you? Learning is about changing. Isn’t it?” The words came out of my mouth, but I was really looking for the changes in him.
“For both of us.” The way his lips relaxed, parting slightly, and his pupils dilated told a story about his lust. There might be some truth to what he said concerning power—mine. But only if I looked hard enough and beyond the surface.
“Teach me what you mean about harnessing power.” I pressed my lips to his mouth, and he sucked my bottom lip gently, kissing me and leading me through another doorway marked bliss. Marked power.
The idea of having control of myself was enticing. I’d tried therapy, yoga, meditation to wrangle my wayward thoughts and emotions. Just once I wanted to stop thinking. Like now. I closed my eyes, willed myself into the sensation of what it was like on his lap, just feeling without trying to shape or channel my thoughts. But my mind didn’t shut off when I commanded. I stiffened and gritted my teeth as if I could bite down and stop the ragged ribbon running through my brain. A whisper, sometimes a shadow, other times a nightmare. All the same. The memory of my stepfather and his hands on me, tearing my clothes…trying to tear me apart.
Instead of feeling the warmth of Graham’s body, I was overwrought by the threats from my stepfather and the crash of the bottle from my nightstand coming into contact with Abe’s head. What if I hadn’t gotten away that night? My eyes flashed open. I pulled away from Graham’s mouth, pressing my forehead against his shoulder, inhaling his scent, and digging my fingers into his arms. Strong and secure.
I reminded myself I was here with Graham as my heart pounded in my chest. Safe. He wasn’t going to hurt me.
“Hey,” he murmured against my hair. “Everything okay?”
Slowly, I straightened, nodding as I hooked my fingers around his neck and reeled in my thoughts. No more free falling. That didn’t work with me. My closet had a lock for a reason.
I hadn’t relayed the whole story to Laura, but my friends knew the truth. I’d left Abe’s house that night and arrived on Laura’s doorstep. She’d taken me in, believing it was a boyfriend issue at first. Afterward, the telltale bruises on my body and cuts on my face told a wholly different story. Laura extracted another version after speaking with her father. None of it matched, and she’d gotten me to talk. Or rather, Luke had after I made him promise not to ever, ever tell my sister the parts I relayed. Afterward I began to see a counselor.
Laura couldn’t get past what she took on as guilt. I never viewed her growing up and moving away as the problem. No matter how many times I tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t seem to let go; and because she couldn’t forget, it made it impossible for me to do much more than assuage her remorse. Counselors had talked the talk, and I could spew as much therapeutic jargon as was required on the topic of teenage survivors of physical abuse, sexual violence, and grief. I’d come out of counseling having learned I was firmly stuck in flux between rage and ambivalence. Stuck meaning cast in cement.
Or at least, that was the diagnosis given to Laura and Luke when I was in high school. I didn’t see it as a problem, just my way of non-dealing with the past and keeping shame at bay as Laura mentally and emotionally wrung her hands. None of it really mattered. It was all talk. What I lived through wasn’t what I’d repeated in counseling—no way was I going to spill my guts, it was so fucked up. And what I saw reflected in my sister’s eyes made me realize she couldn’t deal with the real truth of what her father was like. This resulting hole in my chest pulled everything good inside, chewing up my world piece by piece.
I pushed the memory away. “Kiss me,” I whispered, giving in to the feeling of Graham’s mouth on mine. Closing my eyes tighter, I kissed him deeper, refusing to be undone by the shadow in my soul. Falling forward, I pressed my breasts against his chest, holding onto him, feeling his fingers dig into my skin, and the hot flush spreading through my body as he pulled me hard against his lap.
This type of sex that Graham shared with me felt so much better than revisiting the past. God…so, so much better.
“What do you need?” he asked against my lips.
“You.” I pivoted my hips on his lap, not completely over the past rearing its awful head, but I wasn’t going to play the wacko card of falling to pieces during sex. I’d never be one of those women who got a guy hot and bothered and then spilled their emotional baggage in bed. Not when this man showed me other ways to forget. “Fuck me hard enough to make me sore.”
“Ah, baby. Are you saying you’re not already?” He lifted my dress, and the chilled office air swam over my abdomen. His hands followed, caressing my skin at my hips and ghosting my waist. I groaned and tightened my stomach muscles under his fingers working their way upward, anticipation building in my body. He placed his hands over my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipple
s, and I canted closer to him, pressing my mouth against his. I slid my tongue over his lips, biting softly, focusing on his hands and body.
“Graham,” I moaned, rolling my hips and bringing him deeper within me. “Do me.”
“Damn. What are you doing to me?” he asked. “I could get lost with you.” He began moving me back and forth, harder and more insistent. His hands released my nipples and secured me on both sides of my waist. “What do you want to do? I can’t let you stay here alone.”
“Stay with me. Can’t you for a little while?”
“Yes. You do need watching.” He pulled out of me, lifted me up and deposited me on the sofa. I stared at his hard-on standing straight out from his body. He leaned down, grabbing his pants, and fishing out his wallet where he removed a foil packet. Graham walked over to a doorway, a light flickered on.
When he returned, freshly swathed in latex, I asked, “Is that such a chore?” I blinked, not wanting anything associated with me to be a hassle for him.
He sat down next me, and it was difficult not to stare at his cock pointing upward. “If it is, it’s a very appealing one. Come here, little dove.”
I came up on my knees and climbed over his lap. Graham guided me down his length as his abs tightened. “Oh God. You’re huge.”
“Baby, you tightened up. We’ll go slow.” He pumped the head of his dick in and out of me, going deeper with each stroke as he raised and lowered my hips. His cock throbbed inside me while his expression seemed unsure for a second. “I won’t ask again, but I know you don’t have much experience. You’ve got to tell me when my cock hurts you.”
“I will.” I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
Graham feathered his fingers on either side of my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “Eliza, stay focused. Suck on my finger.”
I wrapped my lips around his finger and sucked him into mouth. Sucking harder and pulling my cheeks inward, I brought his finger to the back of my throat. He groaned something about clearing his calendar next week and removed his finger.
“How much of your body will you give me?” His words and the way he longed to possess me were fuel to an inferno already burning deep within me.
I responded without missing a beat. “How much do you want?”
He moved his hands to my shoulders, pushing off my dress so it slid down to my elbows, trapping my arms by my body and exposing my breasts. Cupping one, he rolled my nipple between his fingers, sending charges over my skin. “All of you. I want every inch only for me.”
How many women had he asked that of? It shouldn’t matter. He made it clear this was a temporary arrangement. To think otherwise was moronic.
“Like this.” I rose and fell, hoisting up onto my knees, wedged into the sofa cushions.
“Eliza,” he growled. “Yes, do just that.”
I stopped and stared at him, hooking my hands around his neck. “Promise me something.”
“Name it.”
“Afterward, come dance with me.”
Holding onto my hips, Graham groaned into my mouth. “I promise. Now, give it to me. Fuck me, Eliza.”
I rocked my hips on top of his cock, clenching my muscles, changing position. Balancing on his thighs, I drew my knees up along his biceps to prove to him I was more than flexible on several levels.
“Do you like?”
“More yoga tricks. Yeah, I like. Immensely,” he said hoarsely, moving with me. Beads of sweat dripped down his gorgeous face.
“Don’t hold back on me, Mr. Gordon. Fuck me like you did before.” I threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled. “I’m serious.”
“Is that what you want?” He wrapped his hand in my hair and yanked. His other hand squeezed my thigh, and his smile darkened. “I can get us there, and then I’ll take you downstairs.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” I exhaled, my breasts jiggling, and he fucked his cock into me, hauling my hips up and down on his length until wild whimpers spilled from my lips. Graham let go and rubbed his hands up my thighs, hooking them under my knees.
“Hold on to my shoulders.” His body tensed as he stood and shifted position, laying me down against the cool leather with us still joined. Kneeling on one leg, he kept the other foot on the floor, angled his hips, and slammed into me, fully impaling me with his cock. “Does this do it for you?”
“Perfectly.” I tumbled over the chasm but held back from completely falling, afraid the memories would reappear.
He pumped his hips, and the intense feeling of a cascading wave came toward me. Closer and closer with each of his thrusts. Graham gave me what I asked for and holding back was impossible. I bit my bottom lip to keep from whimpering, trying to control my mind and body from being blown away.
Over and over, he drove his cock inside my pussy, thrusting to the beat of the music downstairs, pressing down and pushing deeper. He gripped my hips, and I moved against him, trying to keep up the tempo. I squeezed the muscles of his arms, pleasure somersaulting within me in a whirlwind, leaving me so far gone.
“I’m going to explode,” I murmured, trying to keep my eyes from rolling back.
“I’ve got you.” His groans were deep-voiced caresses, spurring me over the edge this time.
“Faster,” I moaned, unable to fight being swept away. Delicious sensations washed over me, bathed me, and released me. Pleasure tore my will to shreds. Gone. Gone. Gone.
“Baby, get there.” He commanded, pressing his finger over my clit in a strumming motion until racing electrical jolts ripped through me. I bit the back of my hand to keep from screaming—screaming loud enough for the entire VIP section to know his name—in a release that would go down in fucking history.
We exploded together, his release a shuddering eruption that left me a warm, loose mess. I sighed as he lowered his body on top of me and I whispered, “Hmm, that was the best bar sex I have ever had.”
“Good to know,” he breathed, gazing down at me with a seductive smile. “How wild do you like to get?”
Me. Wild? I didn’t see myself as anything other than shooting impulsively from the hip rather than truly untamed. If anything, my life came boxed, complete with a lid I fought against occasionally in some jackass, no-brainer passive aggressive way like being habitually late.
“Let me clarify. This was also my first time having bar sex. I’m not wild…not in your book, I bet.”
“You’re something of a firecracker. Don’t even try to deny it.” Graham cocked his head and traced his finger across my lips.
I must’ve really given him some sort of impression. My brows drew together. I wanted to climb inside his head and find out whom he saw when he looked at me. “From the man who lives in a glass house. You do this to me.” I smiled shyly.
Generally, I didn’t care what people thought. Except this man wasn’t a regular anybody. He called me wild, and I enjoyed the sound of it, coming from his mouth. Could I become this woman Graham seemed to believe existed? Having sex all over Miami with him was a step in that direction.
“Brujita,” he said, tugging on my hair. He studied me for a beat before a soft chuckle tumbled from his mouth. “Blame never falls on the floor with you.”
“We already covered that one, and by the way, I’m not a witch. Even if I were, you aren’t the type who’d fall under anyone’s spell. You keep yourself so tightly wrapped, I don’t know what to think. Except that you’re guilty of repeating yourself. But because the blame thing might be partially true, that’s okay.” I laughed, kissing him at the hollow of his cheek as I raked my nails down his back.
“Eliza,” he said my name in a slow hiss.
His scent swam inside me, becoming more familiar each time I inhaled. Running my fingers over the muscular contours of his body, I found the sensation equally memorable and enticing. The same for the texture of his skin beneath my lips. “Diablo,” I whispered, skimming my mouth over his lips, relishing the way he tasted and was mine to explore.
Several seconds passed
as we lay on the sofa with him between my legs and the pulsating sounds of music coming up from the floor. It suddenly occurred to me to ask how he’d found me. “How did you know I was here?”
A slight smirk appeared at his lips. “When you didn’t call, I became concerned. Have you looked at your phone? I called you several times, but it rolled to voicemail. The car you’re using is on a navigation system, and I simply came to where the car was located.”
“Is that why you wanted me to take it? So you could track my whereabouts?” My voice came out tight as one thought raced around my head. He didn’t trust me. “Trust, Mr. Gordon, is a two-way street. I’m not a dithering idiot.”
I was careening. A small speck within my rationale suggested I might be going out on a limb with this one, but, dammit, I didn’t care. One more overactive mother hen wasn’t what I needed.
“Hold on before you leap to conclusions. We already addressed that your automobile is unreliable. It doesn’t even have seatbelts or a roof. It’s a deathtrap. I’m not going to apologize for you not calling. Luckily, I have the means to answer my own questions. If I wanted to check up on you, showing up is hardly spying. I came to prove a point. Several that you enjoyed, need I remind you.” He raised his body, his arms caging me, and he didn’t move, but waited on my response.
“I don’t need another keeper.” I spluttered, “Is everything going to be so black and white? It’s what you believe. Absolutely?”
Graham pushed off me completely, getting up, and returning to the bathroom. When he stalked back to the sofa, he yanked on his pants, the muscles along his forearms flexing and the skin over his cheekbones darkening. By the time he faced me, he wore a severe expression which made the hairs along my skin stand up. His nostrils flared above his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Eliza, I’m not going to enter into an argument when your safety is at stake. I made that clear already. I’m correct in this matter. Case closed. Unless you need another round of this?” He held up his overlarge palm, arching a brow.