by Jenika Snow
“Okay.” He turned and faced the sales associate. Sorcha didn’t miss the way the young, very thin and svelte woman eyed Rian like he was a fine wine she wanted to get drunk on. He took the dress the blonde handed him and then faced Sorcha again. “I think this one will make you feel more comfortable. I picked it out.” He handed her the dress, but before she could close the door he stopped her by placing his hand on it. “And just for the record, I happen to like your body.” He leaned his face in close to hers. “In fact, I like that you’re thick, curvy, voluptuous, whatever name you wish to associate yourself with.”
She was having a hard time breathing, especially with the scent of everything that made up Rian filling her head. He glanced down at her lips, licked his own, and exhaled roughly.
“I could fuck you right now, just close the door behind us, rip this dress off of you, and plunge my cock into your pussy.”
Her heartbeat filled her head, and she grew dizzy.
“I like that you’re not all skin and bones. I like that I have more to hold onto when I’m deep inside of your cunt.”
Her mouth went dry, and she parted her lips, not knowing how to respond.
“Put the dress on, and stop thinking you’re so fucking unattractive.” He snatched her wrist in one of his big, powerful hands, and put her open palm right over his straining erection. He leaned toward her face again, pushed her hair aside, and said in her ear, “If I didn’t find you so damn attractive, I wouldn’t get this hard just looking at you.”
The stubble on his cheek scraped along hers, and she turned her head slightly to look at him.
“You make me hard, make me nearly burst through my pants, and make me want to fuck you right here without caring who sees.”
Sorcha exhaled, not realizing she had been holding her breath.
“Now, try on the dress, and if you like it, take it off, put your regular clothes back on, and then we will head back to the apartment.”
“You don’t want to see if you like it?”
He grinned. “I like whatever you wear,” he dropped his voice to a husky whisper, “but I like it best when you wear nothing at all.”
And then her heart did that damn fluttering thing, because one minute he was this very, very charming man, and the next he was the very devil sent to tempt her.
He handed her the dress and turned away. But in all honesty she was too aroused probably to say anything anyway. She was wet between her thighs, uncomfortably so, and arguing with Rian proved pointless. Sorcha shut the door, put the new dress on, and instantly felt better. It was loose, delicate, and feminine.
The black material hinted at sexuality, but the lace gently overlapping the hem of her bust was also innocent in nature. It also made sure to keep all of her bits and pieces hidden properly. Under the bust was a thin line of crystals, and she knew it wouldn’t be the cheap ones she could get at the local craft store. Hell, the price tag alone was more than what her apartment cost for three months, and that was saying something given the prices of living in this city.
After she was in her tunic blouse, leggings, and ballet flats again, she took the dress up to the front counter, saw the sales girl still eyeing Rian, and refrained from gritting her teeth. This stab of jealousy filled her, but it was so misplaced that Sorcha felt ridiculous and childish for even having it.
“Hi there,” she said to the young woman, but instead of a greeting in return, Sorcha got a roll of the eyes. It was almost laughable the disgust that came from the saleswoman. Maybe this was what she had looked like at first when her jealousy had reared its head? Sorcha chose to ignore the clear brush-off, and Rian was in his own little world with whatever message he had just gotten on his phone, that he hadn’t even noticed the silent exchange.
“Here is your total, Mr. Hartford,” the blonde said in a very singsong voice that made Sorcha sick. This woman was as fake as they came, right down to her Botox injected forehead and lips, implanted breasts, and tummy tucked stomach.
Rian grabbed his Amex Black card, handed it to her, but was still reading whatever was on his phone.
“Everything okay?” Sorcha didn’t care why she even wanted to know what caused those frown lines on his forehead. Maybe she was just so used to making sure his day ran smoothly during the week that seeing him clearly upset about something was a little unsettling?
He glanced at her, shoved his phone in his pocket, and nodded. “Everything’s fine.” He took the card back and the dress now in a plastic bag, and took her arm to lead her out of the store. Once they were out of the shop he took her toward the black Mercedes waiting by the curb. She climbed in, he got in behind her, and the driver shut the door gently.
She stared at him as the car pulled away from the curb and into heavy New York traffic. He seemed tense, uncomfortable even. “Rian, I’ve worked for you long enough to know when you’re pissed about something. And even if you weren’t doing the silent treatment, you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm.”
Rian glanced at her, and for a few seconds he didn’t speak. When he finally did he sounded annoyed and tense. “It really isn’t that big of a deal, or it wasn’t at first.”
“What do you mean?” She shifted in her seat to face him better, and a second later he was putting up the privacy screen that separated the back from the front of the car.
“It’s nothing, just work, and then a slight annoyance from a…” He glanced away for a moment, and she saw his jaw harden.
“A lover scorned?” She phrased it like a question even though she already knew that was what the drama was about.
Rian looked at her again. “That obvious?”
She shrugged. “It was an educated guess given the number of women you’ve pissed off.”
He started chuckling. “I can’t argue that.” His voice was so deep, but soft right now. This was the Rian she liked being around.
“But seriously, there isn’t going to be an ex-girlfriend that comes knocking on the door ready to kick my ass, is there?” She was half teasing. Although she could handle herself, Sorcha really didn’t want any drama, even if she was only with Rian for seven days.
“She wouldn’t get past security.” He said it in a teasing manner, but there was truth behind his words, she could feel it.
“Great, like this whole situation wasn’t awkward enough.” She chuckled uncomfortably, and turned back around so she was facing the front.
“Some women just don’t know what it means when a man says they don’t want any more.”
She slowly looked at him. “Are you serious?”
He looked at her as if she were the one that had lost her mind. “Very.”
“So it wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you use women as if they were nothing more than vessels to unload your orgasms into?” Sorcha was blunt, but Rian was the type of man that needed to hear that. He could be conceited, arrogant, cocky, and could be an all around douche-bag. Maybe it was his upbringing, the fact that he had whatever he wanted at the tips of his fingers, women included? Or maybe he was hiding something deeper inside, reflecting that in his actions? She didn’t know, but it wasn’t her place to question it anyway.
“Coarse and crude language for a lady, Sorcha.” He said the words with a bite to them, but she didn’t care if she pissed him off.
“You didn’t specify that you wanted a lady in your contract, Rian. If that’s what you wanted you picked the wrong woman.” He didn’t respond, but then again she didn’t think he would. “You used those women, Rian, just like you’re using me.” She was silent for a moment. “You’ve shown me a different side of you, a softer side. How can you expect a woman not to fall for you?”
He stared at her with this stormy and pissed off expression, but also something else flickered in his blue eyes. Was he thinking about what she had just said? She hadn’t exactly hidden her own emotions.
“This conversation is finished, Sorcha.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not finished, Rian. I
f I have to be subjected to some jealous rich bitch coming at me because she is in love with you and thinks I’m stealing you away from her, I think all of this needs to be brought to light.” She stared at him just as hard as he was watching her. “You use women until a time when you don’t want them anymore. Hell, you’re doing it to me, because clearly a week is the cutoff time in which you can deal with my presence.”
“It’s not that—”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “I’m the last person to judge anyone. I signed that contract, took the money you offered, so I am using you as much as you’re using me.” She lowered her hand to her lap. “But I also know when the truth is right in front of me. You get what you want because you’re gorgeous, intelligent, and know what you want out of life. I can appreciate and respect that. But don’t try and lie about it, least of all to yourself.”
He stayed silent, and she knew that her words had penetrated him. He faced forward, his brow furrowed as he thought, but she didn’t continue speaking. She had said what she needed to say, and what he needed to hear. He had said he liked her not backing down, not to get sucked into his alpha-ness—clearly her words not his—and so she had delivered on that.
But on the heels of what she had said, Sorcha couldn’t think about her own words, and reflect them on her. Glancing at Rian again she saw that his hands were in tight fists on his thighs, his knuckles white from the strain. He was facing away from her, but his reflection showed an almost distant and forlorn expression. She could see that he knew her words were right, and what surprised her was that he wasn’t outright rejecting them.
She could handle a psycho ex that wanted her man back, could even handle this week, but what she didn’t know if she could handle was this blossoming sensation inside of her. It was a feeling that maybe she could fall for this man, and what scared the shit out of her was that she knew with time it would grow if she allowed it to.
Hell, to feel anything but annoyance and hatred for Rian after only being with him for this short time should have made it clear that she could be totally and utterly lost to him.
20
The coffee table was set with candles, the overhead lighting low and intimate. The curtains on the floor to ceiling windows were pushed aside, and because the room was so dimly lit the lights outside seemed exponentially brighter. Although she hadn’t been with Rian very long, she had seen a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act with him.
He could frighten her with just a look, have her needy and wet with the way he stared intently at her, and could kiss her off like nobody’s business. It was a love and hate relationship she had inside of her, one where she wanted to hate herself for feeling anything for him aside from disgust, but then she loved the way he made her feel when he touched her, or told her what to do.
She had actually been surprised the sex with him hadn’t been anything insane. He was rough for sure, but the things he whispered, the way she felt him touch her at times, let her think that how he acted wasn’t all of who he was. It was a hard exterior that she knew could be broken.
She stepped into the living room and glanced around the opulent space. They had finished eating dinner over an hour ago. But instead of Rian sleeping with her he had retreated to his office to work. Even if she had pushed everything back a week so she would have this time with him, it seemed Rian was still preoccupied with work. There were deep, loud, and angry muffled sounds coming from down the hallway, and she turned and stared in that direction.
A second later the sound of heavy, pounding footsteps, and then she heard a door open and slam shut. Rian was making his way down the hallway toward her, his face angry, and she knew that right now the bastard side of him was in full swing. He wore a pair of dress slacks and a white button down shirt that had the first few buttons at the neck undone. His sleeves were also rolled up his toned forearms, and when he walked right by her without saying a thing she knew she should have stayed in the bedroom.
Sorcha turned so she could face him and watched as he poured himself a drink. He did this twice, filling up the glass and then tossing it back before he repeated the process.
“You want one?” he asked without facing her.
She swallowed and nodded, but realized he couldn’t see her. “Yeah, thanks.”
He didn’t respond, just grabbed another glass, flipped it over, and poured a generous amount of the dark alcohol he was drinking. He turned and handed her the glass, and once she had it, he turned around and poured himself another one. Sorcha smelled the alcohol, wrinkled her nose at the potency of it, but took a drink anyway. She needed something to help calm her nerves.
Of course she wasn’t afraid of him, but she was unsure of things still, or how she felt around him, and the fact that she knew if she opened herself up to the possibilities that Rian wasn’t as evil as he liked to portray, she might have a hard time keeping her resolve. But in the last twenty-four hours they had surprisingly spoken several times, conversations that were personal, intimate even.
He’d asked her about her life, despite the fact that she knew he had dug up everything about her. And in return he had shared a few details with her, about his life, and how while growing up he had been alone most of the time. She wasn’t a therapist, but she assumed that maybe some of his aloofness stemmed from that.
But right now he was pissed over something, most likely work related, and she knew that his anger would be transformed to insatiable lust, and would be directed at her. It was fast, raw, pounding sex, and although she knew that he transformed his rage into the sex he gave her, there was never any anger directed toward her.
After he was finished with his drink he set the glass down and moved over to the window. Sorcha finished off her drink, and when she had consumed the liquid fire, she breathed out and set her glass down, too. Her eyes watered from the bourbon, and her stomach roiled. She breathed out and wiped the tears from her eyes. She so shouldn’t have tossed it back.
“Not much of a bourbon drinker?” he asked but still faced the window.
“No.” She wiped her cheeks again to get off the moisture and then looked around.
“Bad phone call concerning some transfers of funds, so it put me in a rather foul mood.” He turned around, his hands in his pockets, his gaze trained on her.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, not sure what to say to that. He had ordered her to bathe and meet him out here. His nature was far from tame, and she found she liked this dark side of him, liked the way he ordered her around, yet made sure she was also taken care of in the process. He stared at her for a few seconds, and then moved over to the leather chair pressed against the corner of a wall. The shadows partially hid his face, but she could see that he was still staring at her. The way he watched her had her unease leave over what was going to happen, and in its place that familiar burn of desire.
“Take off your shorts and panties, and get on your knees,” he said in a calm, deep voice that brooked no argument.
For a second all she did was stand there, her pulse beating angrily right in her throat, and her palms starting to sweat. When she had her shorts and panties off, she just stood there for a moment, the uncertainty of the situation and her lust rising.
“Get. On. Your. Knees.” He said it harder this time, his annoyance clearly coming through.
A shiver worked up her spine, and the fact that she got wetter because of his demanding tone should have made her feel sick. Having someone order her around shouldn’t have made her feel sexy or even wanted, but she did, on both accounts. Sorcha sank to her knees.
“Turn around, and present yourself to me. Show me what’s mine.”
Her heart started beating frantically, but she did as he asked.
“Place your chest flesh with the floor, keep your ass high in the air, and spread your legs wide.”
She could hear him breathing deep, even.
“Look at that,” he said deeply. “So fucking ready for me.”
Sorcha took a deep breath, and when her
breasts were to the ground, and her ass was so obscenely displayed, she waited for him to do whatever the hell he was going to do. The ticking seconds that passed had her pussy getting so wet.
“Crawl to me.”
She straightened, not sure what the point was of showing off her pussy and ass for a few seconds. Standing again, she was feeling this desire pound through her like a drum. She opened her mouth, maybe to tell him to stop toying with her, but before she could get the words out he tsked at her.
“I said crawl to me. I didn’t ask for commentary, or attitude.”
She was more aroused than she ever had been. Maybe something was wrong with her? Dropping to her hands, she took a steadying breath and started to move toward him. The hard flooring was cold and unforgiving, but she blocked out the discomfort and focused on Rian. When she was right before him she looked at his face, and saw nothing but cool composure.
Her mouth instantly went dry when he went for the belt of his jeans. Once that was undone he pulled his zipper down. It was erotically sick the way he grabbed his erection out through only the flap, not even bothering to undo the button, and started stroking himself up and down slowly. This felt cheap in every way, but that didn’t stop her from getting even more turned on because of it.
“Go on, Sorcha, suck my cock.” He stared at her hard. “Do what I say not because you agreed to all of this, but because you want my cock in your mouth like a hungry little slut.”
A gasp left her at his brutally coarse language, but even him calling her a slut for wanting his dick couldn’t turn her off. She glanced down at his large size, at the way he continually stroked himself lazily, as if waiting for her to obey him. Leaning forward, she felt her throat constrict and her mouth water. He grabbed a chunk of her hair and yanked her forward. A gush of wetness left her pussy and slipped down her thigh.
“Now, suck my cock.” He pulled her head forward until the slick tip of his shaft moved along her lips. “Yes, that’s so fucking good. Now move your tongue around and stroke the underside of my dick.”