I’m falling for this man, and not gently. It’s like a roll down a steep mountainside and I just can’t stop.
***
Twenty minutes later, we’ve left the car with a valet at the front of the Fairmont, and we’re walking through the gorgeous lobby with indoor trees sparkling with blue lights to match the furniture.
We are, to no surprise considering all I now know of Kace, staying in the Presidential Suite, and the staff stumbles over themselves to offer us service. With our bags being delivered by a bellman, Kace drapes his arm around me and we walk toward the elevator, not another guest in view. “It’s a ghost town,” I say. “What time is it?”
“Almost midnight,” he says, glancing at his watch. “We lingered with Nix and Becca way too long.” He punches the call button on the elevator.
“I liked Becca,” I say. “Nix wasn’t that bad.”
“Bear’s the one who declared him a bastard,” he replies, pointing the doors of a car to our right that are opening. “And now you know why.”
“You agreed with Bear,” I remind him as we step into the car and he uses his card to punch in the top level, “and went to the Hamptons before this trip to control Nix.”
“I did,” he agrees, turning to face me. “But not because he’s a bastard. Because Nix is a man you control or he controls you.”
“And no one controls you?”
“Not anymore,” he says, pulling me close, and while he says no more, I’m certain that reply is a small reference to his father. A small indication as well that that pain lingers with him. “It’s time,” he adds, caressing hair behind my ear. “To take you to bed with me.”
It’s then that I realize that I haven’t actually shared a bed with Kace. A rug, the floor, and an airplane seat, yes, but not a bed. It’s only now that I realize I met him just three weeks ago and now I’m here, halfway across the country with him. “I really can’t believe I’m in Texas with you right now.”
“Believe it, baby. It doesn’t stop here.” His voice is a sultry mix of warmth and wickedness, the words packed with meaning, and his intent toward the future. A future neither of us intended. We were supposed to be one night, at least in my mind. I was pretty sure his “I’m not a forever guy” comment meant in his as well.
The elevator halts and he catches my hand, guiding me toward the door. I’m becoming accustomed to him touching me, of being with him, and far too fast and too easily. Already, I’m terrifyingly aware that this man could hurt me. Already, I’m exposed in ways beyond the physical and no one has ever found that part of me.
Just Kace.
Only Kace.
We exit to the hallway and our bags are exiting with a bellman from the next car over. It’s not long before we’re inside a beautiful suite decorated in the same blues as downstairs. I explore the living room, dining room, and then the bedroom while Kace talks to the bellman. I walk past the master bed to a wide window and scan the view of what I’ve gathered to be Town Lake, the lights of a bridge burning through the darkness. I set my purse on the chair beside me and check my phone to find no calls, no messages.
“Dam it, Gio,” I murmur.
The door shuts in the distance and I shove my phone back into my purse, turning to find Kace entering the bedroom. We walk toward each other, meeting at the end of the king-size bed. He cups my head and stares down at me. “Believe it, baby,” he murmurs again, repeating his words in the elevator, and then his mouth is on mine, his tongue stroking a long, deep caress that has me moaning with the sweet burn of my body.
The kiss is long and drugging. When our lips part, he turns us, his back to the bed, with me facing him. His hands rest possessively on my hips. “Undress for me.”
I blink and his hands have fallen away. He sits down on the bed as if he intends to literally watch me, tugging off his boots and setting them aside, before he repeats his words. “Undress for me, Aria.”
My heart thunders in my ears. I have never undressed so boldly for a man. I’ve had sex. I’ve dated. It all went badly. Maybe I wanted it to go badly. I was always suspicious of everyone around me. No one made me want them more than I feared everything else. Kace is not those men. I meet his stare, and in his eyes, I find a challenge. I see him asking me to trust him, and we both know I have not given him that trust, not fully. I want to, God how I want to, but while I might not be running from him, it is too soon to speak to him of a past that until lately, I have been running from. I was told to run.
I need Kace to know that I’m getting there, I’m working on trust.
Still, there is no denying the power play in the moment. He is dressed. He is waiting on me to willingly be naked and vulnerable. And there is no denying that there’s something wickedly erotic about undressing for him. I am forever vulnerable with this man but he has yet to give me a single reason to regret those moments.
I do not believe he’ll make me regret this one either.
Catching the hem of my sweater, I peel it over my head and then toss it to the bed near him. In the process, my hair is all over my face because that’s how well I do sexy. With some struggle, I shove it aside to find Kace’s lips curved, but he’s not laughing at me. There’s endearment in his eyes and warmth, the same sultry warmth that I’m coming to welcome from him. My teeth scrape my bottom lip and his gaze drops, lingering, my sex clenching with the idea that he might be thinking about where my mouth might be next. That line of tattoos down his belly gets my vote.
I decide the best way to make that happen, is to undress without delay.
I quickly remove my boots and toss them, immediately reaching for my pants. His eyes stay on my face, watching me, his expression unreadable, but that darker, edgier side of him is present, that part of him I do not know and should probably fear, but instead crave understanding.
I step out of my pants, leaving myself in only the expensive black lace bra and panties I found among the shopping bags. His gaze lowers and sweeps my body, then lifts. “All of it, baby.”
“You paid a lot of money for this little bit of lace.”
“That I appreciate so much that I want it off,” he says, his voice affected, low, almost gruff. “Everything off, Aria.”
I don’t know what affects me more: when he calls me baby or when he uses my name. I think my name. It tells me how present he is, how with me.
I inhale and unhook the front clasp of my bra, letting it fall away from my shoulders. Immediately after, I’m stepping out of the panties. Kace’s gaze slides over my body, my nipples pucker with his heated stare. I am wet. I am nervous. I am aroused.
“Come here,” he orders, and while I am not a person to take orders, there is something about being told what to do by this man in this situation that is ever so enticing.
I close the two steps between us and he doesn’t make me wait for my reward. His hands are back on my hips and his eyes meet mine. “You really are beautiful, Aria.” His lips touch my belly, that simple touch darting sensations through my entire body, forcing my lashes to lower. My throat is dry, my nipples tingling. Every part of me is alive because of this man. I am not sure I have ever been this alive.
Suddenly, I’m on the bed, on my back, and he’s tugging his shirt over his head. My fantasy of kissing and licking his tattoos is in the forefront of my mind, but it’s hard to think when he is touching me and kissing me all over. I have a moment, just a moment when my mouth is on his arm, on one of those musical notes etched into his skin, but it doesn’t last. We are all over each other and soon his pants are gone, and we both roll the condom over him.
We are side by side, his hand on my backside when he presses inside me. I gasp with the feel of him so hot and hard, with the sensation of him driving deep. And then his fingers are in my hair and he tugs my head back, his lips lingering over my lips. “I swear, woman,” he murmurs, “you’re a drug and I’m addicted.” Already, his mouth is on my mouth, a slow burn between us that is wild and wicked one mome
nt and sultry the next.
And when it’s over, when we are both trembling and crashing into each other and the soft pull of the mattress, the late hour, and the night, it’s not over at all. Kace and I snuggle under the blanket together and we don’t even need words. We come back together, our bodies close, my head on his shoulder.
And I sleep.
I sleep better than I have since my last peaceful day in Italy, the last night my family was whole.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I wake in Kace’s arms, and it’s not long until we’re in the shower together, and I finally do what I have wanted to do since I discovered those tattoos on his belly. I dare to press him into the corner. I dare to take control.
The heat in his eyes says he doesn’t mind, not one bit. “What are you doing, baby?”
“What I’ve wanted to do since I discovered all your tattoos.” I go down on my knees and my gaze lifts to his as I kiss one tattoo and then lick it. He laughs a low, rumbling laugh, that hums with arousal.
“That’s what you’ve wanted to do?”
“Oh yes,” I say. “Very much so.”
Hard muscle flexes beneath my palm as my mouth travels each and every one of those musical notes etched in his skin, all the way down his belly. By the time I’m there, he’s hot and hard, his cock jutted forward, now at my shoulder, and I can’t neglect any part of him. I wrap my hand around him and lick the head.
His lashes lower, the lines of his face as taut as every muscle in his body and soon I am licking a whole lot of everything, everywhere. He speaks of money as power, but I believe right now, on the floor of this shower, there is power in making this man moan, to have him lost and completely out of his own head.
When I’ve taken him over the edge, he pulls me to my feet and I’m the one in the corner, his hand stroking over my wet hair, tilting my face to his. “I wear a condom, baby. I have always worn a condom but for you, with you—I want you to go on the pill.”
For me.
With me.
I don’t hesitate. I don’t overthink. At least in that steamy, wet moment, I decide right then that maybe this is all sex, and sex would be better without limitations. Maybe he doesn’t even care about my secrets because this is lust. And if it’s all lust and sex, why shouldn’t I enjoy the ride? “I’ll call my doctor Monday,” I say, and my reward is him on his knees, and my leg over his shoulder. No, my reward is the quake of my body that he owns with such fierceness that I can barely say my own name when it’s over. I certainly cannot stand without his help. And he loves it. He holds me up and then pulls me under the water, where he soaps me up and promises me coffee followed by queso. It’s a pretty perfect way to start a day.
Much later, with me in a robe and him in just a pair of sweats, we are sharing coffee on a loveseat on the patio off the living room. Our plans for the day include a trip to a Mexican restaurant he swears I’ll love, and exploring downtown.
“Have you ever been in love, Aria?” he surprises me by asking.
I add cream to my newly poured coffee. “Not even close.”
“Not even close?” he presses.
I shrug and sink back into the cushion, facing him. “I dated here and there,” I say. “I believe I had my family business on my mind perhaps a little too much.” I leave out the part where my family business is far more complicated than my store.
“And your brother? Is he married?”
“He has a revolving door of women, but I’d be surprised if that man ever got serious with anyone.” I set my cup down. “What about you?”
“I’ve never looked for love. It’s never called to me, at all. I’ve had agreements with a few women to basically be fuck buddies, one of which went on too long for all the wrong reasons, and ended really fucking badly.”
Any curiosity I have about that woman is ended with realization and the slap his words delivers. We’re fuck buddies. Despite just having that thought in the shower, or rather using that thought to empower myself in the shower, I am now bleeding a little inside. I’ve gotten attached and did so ridiculously fast. I’m like a kid in her first real man-candy store. I got high on the sugar and he’s the candy.
He takes my cup and sets it down, scooting closer, cupping my face and tilting my gaze to his. “No. We are not fuck buddies. That’s not what I want from you.”
I’m confused and I don’t like it. I’m tired of being confused with this man. “Then what do you want?”
“All I know, baby, is I’m addicted. And if I’m honest, yes, I want to fuck you all the damn time, which is why I asked you to go on the pill. But I also want more. I want to kiss you. I want to have coffee with you. I want to talk to you. I want you with me and I have never wanted so damn much with another woman.” He stands and takes me with him. “And if you want those things too, then I want you to go get dressed so we can go get our Mexican food.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl and loudly. We both laugh and it’s pretty clear. I’m going to lunch with him. I’m going a lot of places with Kace that all lead to one place: to that honesty thing. I have to tell him who I am. Just not this weekend. When we get home.
***
The Mexican food is wonderful and we sit and drink margaritas and munch for a good two hours. Afterward, we walk the downtown Austin area, enjoying the city in the mild October Texas weather. Before we know it, it’s nearly four, and time to head to the hotel to get ready for the evening. We’re just getting back in the car and he’s opened my door, when I realize I have a problem. “Kace, I don’t have anything to wear tonight,” I say urgently. “I have to stop by somewhere, anywhere. There were a couple of dresses in the things you bought me, but I don’t even know if they fit and none are formal.”
“There’s a personal shopper meeting you at the room in half an hour.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“Baby, I knew you needed a dress. This weekend is on me.”
“Okay we need to talk about this at some point. If we are going to keep doing this, whatever this is—”
“Then you’re going to have to get used to my money and we are going to keep doing this.”
“We are not about your money.”
“My money is a part of me and that means us, Aria. It’s not going away and neither are we. And tonight is about using my skills to make more money while doing something positive to help other people. I’m in a blessed place where I can spend money and still generously donate to charities that speak to me. Chris is in the same place, which makes these events all the more accessible to us as a team.”
I remember Sara talking about the suicide prevention charity being close to Chris and Kace’s hearts. I want to ask him about the suicide prevention subject, about what it means to him, but it feels like a heavy topic, one that shouldn’t be discussed with a tight schedule.
I kiss his cheek and climb into the Porsche.
***
Once we’re back in our room, the personal shopper, a beautiful brunette named Marcie I’d age in her thirties, is quick to join us. I don’t miss how goo-goo-eyed she is over Kace either, but if Kace notices, it doesn’t show. His attention is all mine. “Pick what you love,” he says. “Pick more than one dress. Take them all if you want them. I’ll be on the balcony making a few calls.” He kisses me and saunters away in all his male perfection.
Marcie sighs. “The way he looks at you, like you’re his world. Lucky you.”
She isn’t really appropriate at all, but I have a feeling that happens a lot where Kace is concerned. I just focus my energy on the twenty or so dresses she’s brought me to try on and look appropriate for tonight. I immediately gravitate toward a long wine-colored silk gown with a right slit, V-neck and a cute crisscross and tie at the back. I try it on, and for once, something I adore on the hanger fits as well as I want it to fit. I’m sold and after picking out a cute glittery purse and shoes, I send goo-goo-eyed Marcie on her way, pull on a robe, and head
outside to share the news with Kace.
I’m just about to step around the corner and onto the balcony when I hear him say, “I know, but she is not just anyone. I’m not doing that. I’m keeping her with me. No. Hell no.”
I’m almost certain he’s talking about me and I back away, deciding that as much as I want to know the context of that call, I cannot eavesdrop. There’s no way to ask him about the call without letting him know I did, even if it wasn’t intentional. And he has to perform. My gut says to leave this alone, at least for now.
I hurry away to the bathroom, and for reasons I can’t explain, that call I overheard made me need to hear from my brother. I check my messages and of course, there is nothing. I try his number and it goes to voicemail. Frustration rips through me. I have to go home and hire that PI, which means I need money. In other words, I either have to work with Alexander or get Ed the client he’s trying to squash to meet his offer, but that all has to wait until Monday.
For now, I promised myself this weekend with Kace. I hurry to the shower, and step in, enjoying the warm water in some length. I’m out, wrapped in a robe, my hair fully dried, when Kace walks in. In a blink, I’m in his arms, and he’s kissing me. “I’m glad you’re here, Aria.” His voice is gravelly, affected.
My heart swells with the impact of his words and actions. “Me, too,” I whisper.
He eases back and gives me a once over. “Why are you wearing the hotel robe? You don’t like the silk robe that was in the shopping bags?”
“It’s three hundred dollars, Kace. That’s insanity.”
He catches the knot on the hotel robe. “Wear the robe and enjoy it. I sure will if you ever let me see it.” He softens his voice. “Please, Aria.”
“Please? I didn’t know you knew that word.”
“I prefer it when you say it, and would suggest ways to use it while naked, but yes. Please wear the robe.”
A Reckless Note (Brilliance Trilogy Book 1) Page 19