In the Dark--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 5

  More silence.

  ‘I know you didn’t choose me and I know I shouldn’t have just taken Maggie’s place like that.’ My voice had got even huskier. ‘But if you want me, I’d appreciate the chance to just...feel like I’m beautiful and maybe special in some way.’

  I didn’t mention it wasn’t some random dude I wanted to be beautiful and special for. Only Eli. Only ever Eli.

  Yet more silence.

  I had said too much, hadn’t I? If I was wrong and he walked away, whilst I might not die from the humiliation it could be a near-run thing. God only knew why I’d bared my soul to a complete stranger I’d never even seen, but I did know that if I let him walk out he’d be taking my chance to get over Eli right along with him.

  ‘You know what I particularly like?’ he asked after a very long time, that haunting voice of his whispering over my skin. ‘I like a woman to beg. I like to have her on her knees, reduced to a weeping mess of desire, desperate for my touch. Utterly dependent on me for the most incredible orgasm of her life.’

  I felt the words sink into me, the sense of them lighting fires deep inside me, making me ache and burn.

  ‘Can you handle that?’ His voice had deepened. ‘Can you handle me making you beg for an orgasm?’

  He wasn’t going to walk out. He was going to give me a night.

  Relief swamped me, my breathing getting faster, an ache between my thighs. I was getting turned on, which was strange, as I hadn’t even had a chance to picture Eli from behind my blindfold yet. Weird how just this faceless stranger’s voice could get me hot.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, already composing my favourite fantasy in my head. Eli breathless with desire, desperate to get his hands on me. Kneeling at my feet and running his hands up my calves, kissing my thighs, getting higher and higher...

  I swallowed. ‘So...do you want me?’ I hoped I didn’t sound pathetic. I just wanted confirmation, because it wasn’t going to be much of an Eli fantasy if this guy wasn’t actually interested in me.

  There was another long silence, and inexplicably my throat closed, as if the opinion of this nameless guy mattered to me in some way, which it shouldn’t.

  Then fingers suddenly rested against the back of my neck, the lightest brush against my nape, and this time I couldn’t stop the gasp that rushed out of me as heat flickered over my skin. I shuddered like a tree in a high wind.

  ‘Yes.’ The word was soft, his touch on the back of my neck even softer. ‘I do.’

  I bowed my head instinctively, letting him stroke me, wanting him to. There was a slight suggestion of roughness to his fingertips, as if he had calluses on them, the light abrasiveness making every nerve-ending catch fire.

  This man knew how to touch a woman. Even I, with my woeful inexperience, could tell that.

  ‘Do you?’ My voice sounded scraped raw, which I hated about as much as I hated the needy note that I couldn’t quite hide. But I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question. ‘You might be just telling me what I want to hear.’

  ‘Why would I do that?’ A fingertip gently stroked the side of my neck, and I shivered yet again, my breath catching. ‘But if you need confirmation...’

  The fingertip was gone, leaving my skin achingly sensitised—and not only the back of my neck, but my entire body. Everywhere tingled and I was aware of everything: of the light press of the silk of my dress and the warmth of the leather beneath me. The cool of the air-conditioning whispering over me.

  Then I felt his fingers suddenly close around my right wrist, exerting a light pressure. I froze. His skin was warm against mine and it sent threads of electricity and heat spiralling through my veins.

  He lifted my hand and I knew he was standing right beside my chair. I could feel the warmth of his body, smell the faint scent of cloves and the inexplicably familiar scent beneath that.

  I knew that scent. I knew it. But how? Where from? And why did I find it so reassuring?

  Then he took my hand and pressed my palm against something very hot and everything went entirely out of my head as my brain struggled to process what he was doing.

  Heat. And softness too. And something long and very hard...

  A bolt of electricity shot straight through me and I stiffened, my breath freezing in my lungs. He was pressing my palm against the zipper of his pants wasn’t he? And that long, thick, hard thing was...

  ‘Oh, my God,’ I whispered before I could stop myself. ‘You’re—’

  ‘Hard?’ he interrupted roughly. ‘Yes. I am.’

  He released my hand before I was ready, the imprint of his arousal branded against my palm.

  I was breathing very fast. ‘What do you look like?’ I asked, even though it really wasn’t important, as it wasn’t him that I wanted to see. But his touch had been...electric...and had made him real all of a sudden, whereas before he’d been just a disembodied voice. But of course he wasn’t. He was a man, warm and alive, and smelling so delicious...

  He was silent a long minute and I had the distinct impression that I’d shocked him. ‘Does it matter?’ His tone was too studied to be natural.

  For some reason, telling me what he looked like bothered him.

  ‘No,’ I said, because it didn’t. ‘I just want to be able to imagine you.’

  ‘You can imagine whoever and whatever you like.’ There was a sharp edge to his voice now. He really hadn’t liked me asking the question. ‘You don’t need to know what I look like for that.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘If you want to prove yourself to me, start by not speaking unless I tell you to. Those were my orders, remember?’

  Yes, I remembered.

  I bit my lip, fighting the urge to keep talking, keep asking more questions. But he wasn’t important and I had to remember that. The only important thing was the fantasy in my head and I didn’t need to know anything about him for that.

  I nodded without speaking.

  He said nothing and I couldn’t hear any movement. The spicy scent of his aftershave had gone and I couldn’t feel his presence next to me any more.

  ‘Have you been with many men?’ His voice came from behind me again, directly behind my chair. ‘You can answer.’

  Right, so we were going to get into the whole virginity thing, were we? Yes, it was my Plan B for added enticement, but given how much he liked asking questions I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him now. Mainly because I didn’t want to give him any more of the truth than I already had.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, trying for casual. ‘I’ve been with quite a few.’

  ‘Don’t lie, little girl.’ His voice was close, right in my ear, and I could feel his warm breath against the side of my neck. It sent another uncontrollable shiver through me. ‘Tell me the truth or else I’m walking straight out that door.’

  He meant it. I could tell.

  My awareness narrowed, centred utterly on him. He wasn’t just standing behind me now but bending over the back of my chair. I could feel it. His scent was around me, his breath ghosted across the side of my neck and I was gripped once again by the most intense feeling of familiarity.

  I...knew him.

  I had sat like this once before, I was sure of it—or not quite like this, but in a similar position—me in a chair while he bent over me, talking to me. It hadn’t been sexual, not like this. He’d been...telling me something or showing me how to do something. A boss, maybe? Or a teacher?

  But, no, neither of those felt quite right. I’d been my own boss for quite some time and I hadn’t been to school since I’d dropped out at seventeen.

  I stared straight ahead through the blackness of the blindfold, my heartbeat now racing, my brain sorting through all the possibilities yet coming up with nothing.

  It was right there, though. Right on the tip of my tongue...

  ‘Who are you?’ I whispered. ‘I feel
like I know you.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Elias

  I WAS BENT over her chair. Strands of her glossy black hair tickled the side of my cheek and her breathing was loud in my ear. She smelled of the candy-floss body wash she’d used as a teenager, a warm, sweet smell, and the exposed skin of her neck was as pale as freshly churned cream.

  I went very still.

  There was no way she could know me. None. Unless she’d cheated with her blindfold, but I didn’t think she had. And it had been years since I’d seen her, fucking years. She hadn’t heard my voice since I’d recovered, either, so it couldn’t possibly have been familiar to her. It had changed beyond all recognition.

  Then again, Vee had always been perceptive, even as a little kid. More so than some adults. I still remembered how she’d once said that I should tell my dad my knee was hurting, that I didn’t have to pretend it was okay. I’d been eighteen and had thought I’d hidden the pain so effectively that no one would know. But she had.

  I’d told her she was wrong, but she’d only looked at me very patiently, as if I was stupid, and told me that I didn’t have to hide it from her.

  I would have been annoyed, as I hated being made to feel like a big, dumb jock, but she’d only been nine at the time so it had amused me instead.

  It didn’t amuse me now.

  How the fuck did she know that I wanted her? How could she tell? And as for knowing me... Sure, we’d had a lot of contact years ago, but not now.

  I’d been hoping she’d give up trying to make contact, but she hadn’t, or at least not until recently. That tenacity again. I couldn’t think what kept driving her, what it was about me that kept her emailing, calling and texting, because I wasn’t her hero any more.

  I was nobody’s fucking hero any more.

  I was something better, something harder. My own man, not someone else’s goddamned meal ticket.

  ‘You don’t know me,’ I growled in her ear, wanting to take the tender lobe between my teeth and give her a warning nip. ‘And I sure as hell don’t know you.’

  What the fuck are you doing with her? Why haven’t you walked away already?

  I should have. But I didn’t. She’d said she wanted to put someone behind her, to feel wanted, to feel beautiful, and I hadn’t thought I gave a shit about other people’s feelings, but apparently I still gave a shit about hers.

  What guy did she want to put behind her? Had he made her feel bad about herself? Because if so I wanted his fucking name so I could show him the error of his ways. Not that it was my place to do so, but I didn’t like what she’d said about herself.

  As if she wasn’t beautiful. Okay, so maybe I hadn’t fully appreciated her when I’d first walked in and seen her, but that was because I hadn’t known who she was. And now I did, and it made all the difference.

  She’d always been a bright light, had always had so much going for her, yet the Howard-Smith family had never seen her potential, crushing her down so much it was a wonder her light hadn’t gone out.

  But it hadn’t gone out. I could see it in the flashes of challenge she kept throwing at me and in that streak of stubbornness. In the tattoos she’d covered herself with and in the blue tips of her hair too. Her judgmental mother and her neglectful father might have done their damnedest to make her feel ignored and unimportant, but she was still fighting. Still strong.

  It’s not about how you feel sorry for her. Come on. You just want to fuck her.

  I stared down at the soft, pale skin of her exposed neck and found myself wondering what she would do if I bit her there very gently...

  Heat spread through me, closing long fingers around me and squeezing tight. I could still feel the pressure of her palm against my zipper as I’d held it there, proving to her that I wasn’t just saying the words. That I did actually want her.

  I hadn’t thought I would, and yet...

  Shit. I couldn’t walk away from her, so what the hell else was I supposed to do? She’d already told me she’d just go out and do this with some other asshole who’d potentially treat her badly, or who wouldn’t give a shit for her pleasure, and I couldn’t stand the thought of that.

  She just wanted to feel wanted and if there was one thing I could do for women these days it was make them feel wanted. Sure, these nights were totally about me, but all my partners got something from them too.

  I could have the evening of escape that I wanted and she could get a little bit of validation as well. What was wrong with that? Yes, there was the added complication of who she was—and if Traj ever found out he’d lay me out flat—but she had no idea of my identity and, shit, it had to stay that way.

  ‘Are you sure?’ She was very still, her head turned slightly, her attention on me. ‘You’re so familiar.’

  Okay, I needed to distract her, that was obvious.

  ‘The truth,’ I said, ignoring her. ‘Let’s have it.’

  She blew out an annoyed-sounding breath. ‘My sexual experience? Yeah, I’m thinking that’s none of your business, ace.’

  I didn’t miss the emphasis on the last word.

  Pissed, wasn’t she? So, she didn’t like being asked that question, and I had my suspicions as to why. She’d either had way too much in the way of experience, and was ashamed of it, or she’d had very little and the same applied.

  Which was it with Vee?

  Stupid question. Given the way she blushed, and how her whole body had gone taut when I’d held her hand down on my cock, I was thinking it was the latter.

  Probably better that you walk away then, asshole.

  Yeah, probably. But I wasn’t going to, not now. She’d been treated like shit by her family for a very long time, so if she needed this to make her feel better about herself then I’d give it to her.

  That was what I’d been doing before I’d got burned, after all.

  ‘Ace?’ I straightened up, allowing some amusement to colour my voice as I moved around the side of the chair, coming to stand in front of it. Standing behind the chair was always a good way to put a partner off-balance, keeping them unsure of where I was, which heightened their anticipation, but I wanted to get a good look at her.

  Her head moved with me, tracking me, staring straight at me from behind her blindfold. It was uncanny, reminding me of Traj, who never looked like a man who was losing his sight.

  Could Vee see through that thing? Had she left a gap? When I’d been standing behind her I’d checked the ties, and they seemed secure, but maybe she’d cheated.

  But even as the question occurred to me I knew the answer. She’d changed in the years since I’d last seen her, it was clear, but Vee had always done the right thing and played by the rules. Despite the whole bad-girl vibe she had going on, she wouldn’t cheat.

  Traj and I had once played a joke on her in a game of hide and seek, where we’d made a rule that no one was to move from their hiding place if they weren’t found. They had to stay in place until they were. We’d laid bets on how long she’d stay there, and I’d bet five dollars she’d last fifteen minutes—she was a sparky kid, never sitting still for long—while Traj had bet ten she’d stay there until she was found. We’d gone to play computer games after that and had forgotten about her until I’d suddenly become aware that she wasn’t bugging us quite as much as usual. Then we’d both remembered and had gone to find her. She’d been huddled beneath her bed, big blue eyes huge in her face.

  ‘I stayed,’ she’d said. ‘I was good.’

  She’d been there for two hours. She’d been six.

  So, no, Vee wouldn’t have cheated.

  She faced me and I could finally get a good look at her as half of her wasn’t obscured by the sides of the chair. The deep blue silk of her dress outlined her delicate curves to perfection, especially those lovely little breasts with their hard nipples. It highlighted the graceful indent of her w
aist and broader span of her hips. Rounded thighs. Okay, so she was curvier than I’d initially thought. The dress ended mid-thigh, giving me a good view of pretty, slender legs and, fuck, those sandals... Sexy as hell.

  I could go down on my knees in front of her, run my hands up the backs of her calves, touch her smooth skin. Ease the hem of her dress up to her hips and uncover her. Then I’d touch her, stroke her, make her shake with my hands and mouth, make her desperate, make her beg for what she wanted, for what only I could give her...

  But, no, not yet. I needed to build her anticipation first.

  With an effort I pulled my gaze back to her face and found myself wishing the blindfold wasn’t there, that I could see her sharp features and the dark blue of her eyes. Such pretty, expressive eyes. She had a little blue stud in her nose. It was cute.

  Christ, what had led her here? Was it the same thing that had made her dye the tips of her hair? That had propelled her into a tattoo parlour? What had happened to her in the years since I’d left? Something had changed her from that sweet, shy, caring little girl into this tattooed, sexy woman. The changes in her weren’t bad. No, they had me fucking fascinated. But I wanted to know where they’d come from. What had made her end up in a hotel room preparing to have sex with a guy she thought was a complete stranger to her?

  ‘I’d appreciate the chance to just...feel like I’m beautiful and maybe special...’

  My chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with my scars or the burns that had caused them. Or the pedestal I’d fallen from all those years ago.

  It was her parents’ fault, wasn’t it? Yeah, and Traj’s too. The way they’d treated her... Fuck, it made me so angry. Because how could she think she wasn’t beautiful?

  ‘Yeah, you got a problem with “ace”?’ Her chin came up, stubborn as hell. ‘If you get to call me little girl, I get to call you ace.’

  ‘I don’t have a problem with that. But what I do have a problem with is your sexual history not being any of my business. Especially given that this whole encounter is sexual.’