Awakening (A Dangerous Man, #1)

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Awakening (A Dangerous Man, #1) Page 2

by Serena Grey


  “Hi.” I can’t believe how nervous I feel. It’s cool outside, but my skin feels unusually hot.

  “Hi Sophie.” His voice is as beautiful as I remember, and it makes the sound of my name feel like a caress. I try not to look down as his eyes take in my flushed face. “Ready?” He asks.

  I nod, and he leads me to his car. It’s not the black sedan of earlier, but a silver BMW convertible that glints in the evening light. He opens the front passenger door, and I step in. The interior is luxurious, with black leather seats and a sleek dashboard. It smells of leather, with a slight hint of his cologne, I inhale deeply.

  He gets into the driver’s seat and turns to me. Again, his eyes mesmerize me. What am I doing? There is no way I can survive an evening alone with this man. “So where do you want to go?” He asks.

  I have no idea. I wonder if I should have thought of this before. “Where would you like to go?”

  His eyebrow lifts, and for a moment I can’t help but stare, enchanted. “You know the town,” he says, “don’t you?”

  I shake my head. I really don’t. I have never hung out, or done any of the things young people do. My aunt made sure I had no friends while she was alive, and in the months since her death, I have realized that almost everybody thinks that, like her, I am weird.

  He chuckles deeply. “That’s strange, didn’t you grow up here?”

  “I’ve been away at boarding school.” I look out of the window, “and anyway I’ve never been very outgoing.” Luckily, I remember the seafood place Stacey and her husband went to on their anniversary. It’s on the other side of town, and I’ve never been there, but I mention it to him anyway.

  He starts the car and enters the name of the restaurant into a GPS system on the dashboard. As he waits for directions, I realize how underdressed I am for where we are going. I really don’t want to be an embarrassment. I’m not even sure that the only dress I have will be suitable, but I’m determined to make an effort.

  “Can we stop by my place?” I ask tentatively.

  His eyes skip from the road to my face. “Of course.”

  The apartment building is not far from the shop, so I just give him directions. “I won’t be a minute,” I tell him as I climb out of the car. I almost run upstairs to my apartment, a one bedroom with a tiny kitchen, living room, and bathroom. The living room windows look out into the car park and further out into the commercial part of town. I can see the silver BMW idling in the car park, but I can’t see David through the tinted windows.

  I hurriedly change into the pale blue cotton dress I wore for my graduation. I haven’t worn it since then. As I take a quick look at myself in the mirror, I hope desperately that it will do.

  “Nice dress.” David tells me as he helps me back into the car. “You didn’t have to change on my account though, you already looked great.”

  For some reason, his words make me feel unreasonably glad. “Thank you.” I say, “I wanted to.”

  He nods and starts to drive towards the restaurant. We are both silent. I wonder if I should try to make conversation, but I don’t know what to say.

  “Were you at a conference at Ashcroft Hills?” I ask finally.

  He nods.

  I search my mind for something else to say. “I hope it went well.”

  He shrugs. “It went well.” He looks over at me. “I went to make a decision about a new software that may either be the next big thing, or a complete waste of time.”

  “What did you decide?” I realize that I’m genuinely interested. I want to know everything about him.

  “I bought it.” Something in his voice gives me a feeling that he is someone who is used to being able to get whatever he wants, as soon as he decides that he wants it.

  “So what do you do instead of being outgoing?’ He asks, breaking into my thoughts.

  I shrug. “I read, sometimes I draw.”

  He looks interested. “What do you draw?”

  “Stuff.” I’m definitely not going to tell him that I’ve been doodling his face on the margins of my book since he left the store. “I do more of reading actually.”

  “Like Fanny Hill.”

  I blush. I’m so embarrassed I don’t even know how to respond.

  A smile curves his lips as he registers my embarrassment. “I thought young people never read anymore.” He says. I wonder how old he is.

  “What?” He asks, his eyes are back on the road now.

  “I am wondering how old you are,” I say softly.

  He laughs, and my ears follow the sound eagerly. “Oh I’m legal,” he sounds amused. “I’m twenty seven.”

  So am I, I think. I remember when he asked me my age earlier, and I try to control the shiver of excitement I feel.

  At the restaurant, the manager takes one look at David and immediately puts himself at our service. There is so much deference in his manner that I start to wonder if I’m not missing something. David doesn’t seem surprised or bothered. He is used to people serving him, I realize. I don’t know what conclusions to draw, I know so little about him.

  As the manager leads us to a secluded table with a view of park, I notice how the women stare openly, while the men look at him with a combination of jealousy and admiration. They know who he is, I realize. I wonder how soon I will have the opportunity to google him. I don’t own a computer, but there is one at the shop.

  The waiter brings the menu, and David orders wine. I take my time studying the menu, trying to decide what to order, and thinking how young and gauche I must seem compared to all the sophisticated women he probably knows.

  While we eat, I tell him more about myself. I think the wine relaxes me, because I really talk to him. I tell him about my mother, who died giving birth to me, and Aunt Josephine, her much older sister, who became my guardian. I even tell him about my father, who nobody knew, but who Aunt Josephine always said was some professor my mother had an affair with during the only semester she spent at college.

  I tell him about boarding school, life in Ashford working at the shop, and about Stacey Carver. Finally, I tell him about my plans to go to Bellevue to get a job.

  “Why not Seattle?” He asks. “It’s bigger.”

  I don’t want to tell him that I chose Bellevue because my mother went to college there, and came back with me. I don’t want him to think I am chasing a ghost, so I just shrug.

  He is a good listener, but he never says anything about himself. Not that I notice, I’m too caught up in the beauty of him, his graceful hands and fingers, the way his eyes seem to penetrate me when he looks at me, and the way his hair frames his face in a soft black wave.

  I have a sudden urge to touch his hair, it’s so strong that I have to control it consciously. What is happening to me?

  “Sophie?” The voice breaks me out of my admiration of David, and I turn around to see a familiar face, Eddie Newton. He was a neighbor back when I still lived with Aunt Josephine. I don’t know him very well, Aunt Josephine made sure of that. He always had a friendly smile and a wave for me when I was a lonely kid. He’s been away at college for a while, and I haven’t seen him since long before Aunt Josephine died.

  “Hi Eddie,” I say, trying to control my unhappiness at having to tear my eyes off David. I manage a friendly smile.

  There is an attractive looking brunette with Eddie. She can’t seem to take her eyes off David. I don’t blame her, I know what he looks like.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Eddie tells me, his eyes moving from my face to David’s.

  I nod, and then realize that I probably should perform some sort of introductions. “David, this is Eddie,” I say. “We were neighbors growing up. Eddie, this is David Preston, he...” It hits me again that I don’t know anything about him, and I stop, embarrassed.

  “I’m attending a conference here in town,” David adds smoothly, rescuing me, “or I was.” He qualifies. “I’m heading back to Seattle in the morning.”

  I feel my face fall. I have
n’t thought of him leaving. I try to tell myself that Seattle is only an hour away, but I’m sure I will never see him again. Why would he come back for me anyway? I hardly hear as Eddie introduces his companion, but I can sense almost the same deference in his tone as he talks to David as I had heard earlier in the managers’ voice. His companion cannot keep the open flirtation from her voice as she says hello to David, adding that she is very glad to meet him.

  “I’m sorry for your loss Sophie,” Eddie says to me. He gives me an encouraging smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t tried to see you before now.”

  I frown, wondering why he would try to ‘see’ me. “You were away at college,” I tell him, “and I’m okay.” I add. “Really.”

  He gives me another encouraging smile before he and his companion move away from our table.

  David is looking intently at me. “Old boyfriend?” He asks. I sense an edge in his voice, and I’m suddenly eager to clear the air.

  “No,” I deny. “Of course not. I don’t have any old boyfriends.”

  “Young ones then?” He searches my face. I suspect that he is not teasing. The look in his eyes makes my stomach clench. I shake my head.

  “You didn’t tell me you were leaving,” I realize that the question is probably silly. He lives in Seattle, and is only here for a conference after all.

  He leans back in his chair and considers me for a moment. “I was leaving this afternoon.” He tells me. “Yet I stopped to ask you to dinner.” He smiles. “Then I left anyway.” He shrugs. “I was going to call the shop and apologize,” he leans forward until I can almost feel his breath on my face, “but here I am back in little Ashford, on a date with an eighteen year old.”

  I have a very clear mental image of waiting expectantly at the shop, and being disappointed by a phone call. I would have been miserable.

  “I’m glad you changed your mind.” I reply hotly.

  He seems taken aback by the passion in my reply. He smiles wryly, “Somebody should have warned you to stay away from men like me.”

  “What kind of man are you?” I ask.

  “The type that’s bad for you.”

  I shrug. “I wouldn’t have listened.”

  His expression is unreadable, he is looking at me, but he doesn’t say anything. He signals for the waiter. “I should take you home.”

  I don’t want to go home. I don’t want never to see him again. His eyes hold mine from across the table, and I know I want everything those eyes are promising.

  “Let’s go,” He helps me out of my chair and I follow him out, my legs feeling rubbery. He opens the door for me to get in, and I wait until he slides into the driver’s seat next to me.

  “Will you come back here again?” I can’t keep the hitch from my voice. I want to see him again, I need to. I need him in a way that even I do not understand.

  “I’m not sure.” He shrugs. “You’ll be in Bellevue anyway.”

  I had forgotten about that. I look down at my hands on my lap, and I wish I were older and more beautiful. I wish I was the kind of seductress who could drive him crazy with just one look. It’s heartbreaking that I cannot even keep a man like him interested in me for longer than a date.

  ‘Are you alright?” He asks softly. He places a hand under my chin and lifts my face to his.

  His eyes take in my shiny eyes and the unhappiness on my face. I can’t read his expression as he looks at me. I want to say something, I want to tell him that it’s not his fault and that I’m just a silly girl who has never been on a real date before.

  I’m still trying to form the words when he leans forward and covers my lips with his.

  The rush of sensations overwhelms me. His lips are warm and firm, sweet and demanding. I moan softly. He takes advantage of the opening, and his tongue slips into my mouth, stroking mine, and flooding my body with a wonderful sweetness.

  He pops my seatbelt in one swift movement, and in the next moment, he pulls me to him, crushing my breasts against his chest. His fingers lightly skims the side of my breast, he squeezes it gently, and then softly pinches my nipple through the fabric of my gown.

  “Oh!” I moan loudly, my eyes flutter to his face to find him watching me, his eyes dark. His lips are so close to mine, so I raise my head and kiss them. He kisses me back. I can do this forever, I think, my head spinning wildly.

  He reaches up into my hair and undoes the barrettes, releasing my hair to fall around my face.

  He pulls away to look at me, his chest heaving. “Sophie...” he breathes softly. “I wanted to do that since I saw you outside the shop this afternoon,” He runs his fingers through a few strands of my hair, and smiles at me. “You don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

  I breathe in a lungful of air. My heart is pounding, and I can hear the blood rushing in my ears, I want him to kiss me again.

  He sighs and releases me. “I’d better take you home.” He says, his voice tinged with frustration

  My body stiffens in disappointment, which, I’m sure he can see on my face. He traces a finger over my lip, sending a thrill of pleasure down my spine. “I want you.” He says, his eyes devouring my face.

  My body contracts with a delicious sweetness. “I want you too.”

  He chuckles at my shy words. “I can’t make any promises, Sophie.” There is a rueful smile on his face. “You don’t deserve someone who will forget about you the moment he is out of town.”

  My body is aching with longing. While I am dimly aware that he’s trying to warn me away, I don’t really care. “Will you forget me so quickly?” I ask.

  He doesn’t look at me. “I don’t know.”

  I swallow hard, confused, and eager for him to continue what he’s started. “What if I don’t care?” I ask in a voice that does not even sound like mine. “What if I want you anyway?”

  Chapter Three

  His eyes bore into mine in the semi darkness of the car. I wait for him to say something. He doesn’t, instead he turns away from me and starts to drive.

  Soon we are at my place. I don’t know what he is going to do, and I am reluctant to leave the car. I look up at him, unsure and hopeful. He ignores me and steps out of the car, the next moment he is opening the door at my side and helping me out.

  He follows me upstairs, and as I climb the stairs, I keep stealing glances at him. My heart is in my mouth, but I know what I want. I want him.

  Soon we are in my apartment, which is thankfully clean. I feel a wave of gratitude towards Aunt Josephine for teaching me to clean up after myself. In the living room, I am suddenly seized with panic and self-doubt, what if my inexperience is too glaring, what if I disappoint him.

  As soon as the door closes behind us, he pulls me towards him. He pushes my hair away from my face and starts to kiss me all over my face. He drops light feathery kisses on my eyes, my nose, my chin, his lips move to my ear, and he sucks on my earlobe. I moan helplessly. It feels so good.

  He licks under my ear, making me shudder, then he lifts his head and kisses me on the lips, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

  This kiss is sensual. His tongue explores my mouth, stroking and tasting me, building heat in the deepest recesses of my body.

  He pulls down the zipper of my dress, then his hands are underneath it, skimming over my thighs, and moving upwards. He pulls the dress over my head and tosses it on the floor. Grabbing hold of my thighs, he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist. His erection presses against me through my wet panties, and I press closer, wanting more.

  He cups both my breasts in his hands, squeezing gently through my bra, then rubbing my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, I sigh.

  “Do you like that?” His voice is low.

  I nod.

  His hands move, and with one deft movement he unhooks my bra and pulls it off my shoulders. Under his gaze, my aching nipples pucker up immediately, extending towards his mouth. I tremble with pleasure at the look of frank admiration in his eyes.

  He bends f
orward and takes a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it and licking it at the same time. I whimper and strain against the wall, pressing my body harder against his bulging erection. He grips me, holding me still with his hands on both sides of my ribs, and then continues to treat my nipple. His tongue swirls around it, then he bites it gently, and then sucks it. When I’m about to go mad, he moves to the other breast. I lose all my senses to the sweet, sweet fire building between my legs. I rub frantically against him. I need him to touch me there.

  He stops suddenly, and with a finger under my chin, he lifts my face until I am looking up at him. His voice is hoarse. “I am going to make love to you now.” He says, “So if you want me to stop, tell me.”

  I shake my head frantically, if he stops at this point, I’ll probably die.

  He smiles and covers my lips with his again. I barely notice that he is unbuttoning his shirt. He sets me down and pulls off his trousers. I lean on the wall, watching him. I can’t believe what a beautiful body he has, the muscles of his chest are well defined, and his stomach is flat and firmly muscled, my eyes skip to his erection, poking through his boxer briefs, I feel a mixture of longing and dread.

  “Your room?” He asks

  I point in the direction of the door, and he picks me up, which is good because I’m not sure I can walk on my rubbery legs. In my room, he sets me on the bed, and presses a hand against the wetness in my panties, I moan and my hips rotate all on their own, rubbing against his hand until he moves it away and then slowly starts to pull down my panties.

  I lift my hips to help him. As the panties go down, they leave a wet trail on my legs. I look up at him, I don’t know where I find the courage, but I reach towards him and pull at his briefs until his erection springs free. I swallow. He is frankly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

  He pushes me down on the bed and straddles me. I can feel his erection on my thighs. I want to spread my legs wider so that he can touch me. Tentatively, I touch his chest, letting my fingers play with a nipple. I stop in surprise as he closes his eyes and moans my name. Encouraged, I let my fingers move over his chest to the other nipple.

 

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