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  “No, it’s all good. That’s why I like you. I’ve got to apologize to you. We got here, and I thought to myself, she’s a journalist, she’s just playing you and you’re about to take her to your house.” He shrugged. “I could have just fucked you into tomorrow, and sent you off, and switched off.” He walked away from the windows, and sat down heavily on the bed, his leather pants creaking with the motion. “Fear’s a common thing, little girl.”

  Jesus. There went the rest of my heart. God, had I been that shut down? I closed my eyes. Ow. What to do, what to do.

  I put down my glass on the window sill, and flew at the bed and jumped on him before I could stop myself. And there I was, having knocked over the glorious, messy haired god, and I was now straddling his lap and looking down at him, as he gazed up at me, stunned.

  I was about to start apologizing, when he started giggling. Laughing, like I’d seen on the videos from so long ago, not just cut off, but actually laughing. It made me giddy, like a teenager with the giggles, and he pulled me to him, until we were both hysterical with nervous laughter.

  We lay there, his arms around me, my face resting on his chest, and slowly stopped laughing. I didn’t know what to say anymore. I just wanted to stay there forever, warm, feeling that strange happiness that was bursting out of the desire. He was stroking my hair, smoothly, gently, his large hands reassuring and warm. I felt sleepy and contented, yet the desire for him was still there like a beacon. It was so hard to just accept this warmth, these feelings of…tenderness. He was incredibly tender. Paradox, the man a walking contradiction. But he smelled so fantastic. And this leather was so soft, I could touch his arm, his skin was soft too…

  • • •

  I woke up, and it was chilly, and I wasn’t sure where I was. I looked around, and I heard water running in the bathroom. Great. I fell asleep on a rock star. Useless. I lay there and spread my arms out over the bed. Well, I was still here. That was something. And I breathed in the scent from the duvet cover and the comforter, and it was all him, yet soft and warm, like he was, after all.

  The bathroom door handle turned, and he came out, wrapped in a silk kimono robe. I could hear water running. My god, he was stunning. Pure sex. He couldn’t even help it. He was walking towards me; I noticed and shook myself out of my reverie.

  “Good you’re awake.”

  “I’m really sorry. Great date, huh?”

  “Hey, you’re tired. It’s not a crime. I dozed off myself.”

  He looked at me, like he was deciding something. Here it comes. I sat up, ready to be escorted out.

  “Would you stay? Would you like a bath? With me, that is?” And he smiled, that wicked schoolboy smile, and I felt all the blood rush to my face. Then descend.

  I took a deep breath. “I’d love to.”

  He held out his hand. “Come then. Leave your shoes.”

  And in stockinged feet, I walked up the little stairs hand in hand with him towards the running bath.

  Chapter 10

  Of course the bathroom was tasteful as well. The floor had old fashioned NYC apartment tile, small squares of black and white, and the bath was black and huge. There were Jacuzzi jets, and he had already put in some foaming bath soap. It smelled divine, and there were two huge towels hanging on a warming towel rack. I guess he’d already thought this through a bit. It wasn’t just a spur of the moment decision.

  “You always observe your surroundings quite intently,” he said.

  “I suppose I do.”

  He tilted his head slightly, and scratched his cheek absent-mindedly. “And what conclusions have you reached?”

  “About you? Hmm, secret sybarite. Paradoxically tender. Traditional. Elegantly wild.”

  “Elegantly wild, interesting. And do you think you trust me?” He bent over to turn off the water, and looked over his shoulder at me, a strange sort of expression on his face. Daring me, almost. I just looked at him. He stood up and came over to me, and tipped my face up towards his. “Tell me what you think.”

  “I think I want to.”

  “Wanting doesn’t always make it so.”

  “How about if I really want to?”

  He looked at me with that stare. I felt myself dissolving under his gaze. I didn’t really understand the mood changes, the switching back and forth from kindness to questioning. I wanted to say something, tell him he could trust me. Maybe that was it, again, the need he had to feel that people were not thinking too much about what they did around him. Or that he could control it. The look he was giving me was going through me again, taunting me, waiting to see what I was made of. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t figure out the rules to this one. I’d grab at any idea I had.

  “You can trust me, though.” I reached up and ran my hand through his hair. God, I’d been wanting to do that.

  “You haven’t even told me you like me. Now you want me to trust you.” He smiled, but it didn’t entirely make it to his eyes.

  “I like you. I like you—a lot. More than I should. More than I’m comfortable with. But that’s my problem, not yours. But I promise, I’m not in it for anything but my own selfish wants, which is to spend a lot more time with you. Being confused.” I paused for a moment. “And a strange, wild, irrational desire to see you happy.”

  He smiled, and it lit up his face, the room, the entire world. There it was, that light pouring off him. I felt elated. I’d done something right. I’d made him smile.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Well, let’s get to work on that. You know what would make me happy?” His face changed slightly, and looked more amused and bored than elated. But I’d take it.

  “Tell me.”

  “Take off your dress.”

  “Help me then.” I thought I’d try to play, but the game had already gotten beyond me, and his eyes were darkening.

  “No. Take it off—for me. Slowly.” And he leaned back against the enormous sink, arms crossed, looking every bit the bored rock star.

  “Ok.” I felt idiotic as I said it, and reached behind to undo the clasp and start pulling down the zip. I reached up a hand to pull the wide straps off my shoulders.

  “Slowly, very slowly. I’ll never see you naked for the first time again. I want it to last.” His eyes were trained on my shoulders.

  I spread out my fingers and swept the silk off my shoulder as slowly as I could, the fabric tickling my arm which instantly came up in goose bumps. He watched me with a strange intensity.

  “Now the other side.”

  I repeated what I had done, and was now holding the dress to my body with my arms pressed to my sides.

  “Let it drop.” His voice went down an octave as he said it. The tone of his voice was hypnotic. The dress fell to the floor, and I stepped out of it and picked it up with one finger.

  “Where do you want it?”

  He took it from me, and ran a hand down it, as though he were caressing a person.

  “Lovely. Did you know I would be the act at the party tonight?”

  “No, Alice didn’t tell me.” I didn’t tell him that I could think of nothing else but seeing him, that I didn’t know what to think.

  “Were you thinking of me when you got dressed?” He looked impatient, waiting for an answer.

  I breathed in. Was he going to ask every question I didn’t want to answer honestly? It appeared he was.

  “Well?”

  I had to. “I’ve thought of nothing but you since we met.” I paused. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Not to me.” He gazed at me, now clad in nothing but matching lingerie and stockings. “I ought to throw you in the bath like this.”

  “Why don’t you?” There was something about his animal physicality that made me want to fight with him, literally. I wanted him to grab me, touch me, pick me up like he did before. I also wanted to resist.

  “You’ll learn that it’s not always a good idea to bait me.”

  “Good for whom?”

&nbs
p; His eyes lit up. “There is a bit of steel in you, after all.”

  “Glad you figured it out,” I replied.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sharp. You’ll notice that if you stick around.” He drawled the words out.

  “Touch me, and I’ll stick around a lot.”

  “You might get bored.”

  “Are you bored?” I snapped. There was something boiling up here, getting quickly out of control. But neither one of us could stop it.

  “I’m bored that you’re so far away.” And he pulled me to him, and held me, just close enough, his eyes searing into mine.

  “Are you a fan of the classics?” He began quoting. “You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” He pretended he was going to kiss me, and then pulled away. “Can I assume that the same thing that cured Scarlett will cure you?”

  “Do you think you know how?” I batted my eyelashes at him.

  He smiled. “Oh, I know a few things.”

  “Do you now.”

  “Oh you minx.” And with that, he picked me up, and lowered me with surprising gentleness in the tub. In my underwear. Which instantly went transparent. I looked up at him, and he was incandescent. He followed me into the bath, still wearing the black silk robe, which melded to all his curves, and his entire body became geometric, planes and ridges, and smooth muscles, all shining under a layer of wet silk. He ducked his head under and came up, dripping wet, his mouth glossy, his dark hair flat against his face and neck. “Now look what you’ve done.”

  I was looking. I was certain I never wanted to look at anything else again.

  He held my wrist and dragged the back of my hand up the inside of his leg. His skin was smoother than the wet fabric, yet taut underneath. He let go when my hand made contact with his balls, and we both gasped. Actual skin. “Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me.” I traced circles over his skin, silky, wet, unbelievably hard. His cock was thick and sculptured, just like the rest of him, and long, like his fingers. I ran my hands all over his hips, his balls, cupping his ass. He was made for sex, I’d never been this enticed by a man’s body before. But his was mysterious, and huge and responsive. His eyes were shut, and he let out a long low moan when I ran my finger over the wet top of him and put my finger in my mouth. Oh my god, he even tasted good, that same dizzying scent, salty, like sand and ocean. I bent my head down under the water, and took him in my mouth, managing to get about half of him to taste before I had to come up for air.

  “You taste fantastic. Let me…?”

  And he nodded, and slipped off the robe and sat up, out of the bath, on the wide tiled shelf. I felt like I was swimming over to him in the huge bath, a mermaid who’d found someone she would walk on knives for. I suddenly wanted him to hurt me, touch me, something. Out of the water, his sex appeared even larger, and I wanted it like I had never wanted anything in my life. I kept swallowing him down until I had nearly all of him, then moving back and running my tongue over the ridges at the head, gently squeezing him, licking him. I felt crazy with lust, it was almost too much.

  I suddenly felt a hard slap on my ass through the water and it stung. I raised my head as quickly as I could, being careful to lick the wetness from his head, and I looked up at him, as innocently as I could manage.

  The muscles on his neck were standing out, and there was a hawk like fierceness in his expression. “You,” he muttered, “are driving me insane.”

  I smiled. But I had to catch my breath as he attacked my mouth with his, and licked me, thoroughly, effectively, my face, my mouth, my neck, until we were both wet with his kisses.

  I could barely breathe. All I could feel was an ache that made me want to do crazy things, and not care, never care. I tore myself away, and was about to start kissing a trail down his stomach, when he pulled me back to look at him.

  His voice was a low rumble. “I can’t wait.” And he stood up, lifting me up, both of us dripping water, and got out of the bath, then helped me to climb out.

  He peeled off his wet robe, hanging it over the bath, then turned to me, and unsnapped my bra in one motion and watched as it fell to the floor. He then flicked open the clasp on the garter belt and began peeling off the stockings, kneeling naked in front of me, my foot on his shoulder, first one then the other. He did it slowly, carefully, rolling down my stockings as his knuckles brushed the skin on the inside of my thighs. I held on to the towel rank as he placed my foot back on the ground, shaking. “Nice,” he said, “now take these off too,” snapping at the elastic of my panties.

  “You do it,” I whispered.

  He ignored me, instead pulling a towel down off the rack, and took my hand and pushed me ahead of him. “Bed. Now.” He herded me out of the bathroom and down the few steps. When we got to the bed, he pulled the quilts off in one massive flourish, the muscles in his back fluttering with strength. He flung down the towel. “Lie on it.” And the look in his eyes was dark with something like rage. He pulled open the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a condom. He nodded to me. But I obviously wasn’t moving fast enough, because the next thing I knew he had thrown me on the bed, and was now straddling my legs, staring at me possessively. His large hands were taking hold of my underwear and tearing them with a frightening ease. And there was that smile again, satisfied, as he neatly ripped open the packet with precision and rolled the condom over his cock, his enormous hands finally looking comfortable. He ran his hands over himself a few times, and suddenly groaned.

  I was riveted to his every motion. He was stunning. I would do…

  And without warning he was buried inside me. I cried out, half from the unexpected pain of him opening me up fully, partly from sheer relief.

  “Fuck,” he rumbled against my mouth. “Fuck. Stay still for a moment. You’re so tight, god, so wet, for me…tell me it’s for me.”

  “So wet, only for you, please…”

  “Say it, or I won’t move.”

  I tried to wriggle to get him to move, but he wouldn’t. He held me pinned to the bed.

  “Beg me, little girl.”

  I thought I was going to come just from the sound of his voice, the sheer size of him filling me up. Oh god I wanted to move, I just wanted to move, against him. I wriggled more, and fought against him. Oh there, some friction. A moan escaped from my throat.

  “Beg for it. God please.”

  I wriggled some more. His eyes were black, and he couldn’t help himself, and he moved a little against me. We both gasped.

  “Say please,” he whispered against my mouth, and licked me, wetly, and moved –just imperceptibly. I moaned again. I wanted to torture him, I didn’t know why. But I needed to move on him, now. I wriggled against him again, his stomach touching mine, and he pulled on my arms roughly.

  “Now, damn it,” he rumbled around my nipple as he sucked down hard. I felt it all the way inside and I clutched around him.

  “Ahh, fuck.” And he bit down, and I started to come. I couldn’t hold on any longer.

  “Now, baby, fuck me please, you’re making me come, harder,” I gasped.

  And he let out a low wail as he pushed as far as he could inside me, and set off another long rush of convulsions. My entire body was trembling. “God, baby, please, harder, please, I’ll do anything you ask, please.” And he started fucking me hard, holding my wrists. I was arching my body into his, sliding on him.

  “More, give me more,” And he pulled me up to a sitting position, and he held me in place as he moved deep inside me, over and over, not stopping, until I was trembling over him again. Then he pushed me down on the bed, and kissed me, listening to my moans. And he sped up. I was boneless, weightless, and still I could feel him, and I felt myself tightening again around his cock.

  “That’s it, let go, come for me, come for me. Now… ”

  And I fell apart on his words, finally, under him, my hands trying to hold on to his strong back. I couldn’t breathe, my heart going too fast and then another vibration went through me and he was c
oming, inside, throbbing, warm. And he was crying out, “fuck fuck fuck, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it!” And his voice disintegrated into animal moans that made me come again, clutching around him, thrusting my hips on him as hard as I could. And he held me tightly as he shuddered, again, like he had in the limo that first time, still coming, beautiful, his face torn up with his orgasm.

  His body convulsed again, and held me closer, kissing me by my ear, whispering, “Incredible girl, incredible.” And I held on to him as hard as I could.

  We stayed like that for a little while, until he said, “wait just a minute darling.” He pulled out and we both groaned. He peeled off the condom and dropped it over the edge of the bed. “Later.”

  He reached instead for all the covers and pulled them over us, then wrapped me in his arms, and kissed my head.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured against my cheek and held me even tighter. I held him back, just clinging on.

  I kissed his cheek, and I felt his smile.

  “Good night darling,” he said, in that incredible voice, and kissed me, gently. But we were still clinging to each other, and there was nothing gentle about it.

  Chapter 11

  We slept like that, amazingly enough. When I woke up, I still had my arms wrapped around him, and comfortably, his around me. I tried to zero out my brain before it registered who this was and what we had done, and simply listen to the sounds of traffic reigniting down below, and his heartbeat.

  His heartbeat. And his breathing, regular, soft, deep. All of him there, like some kind of gift. His incredibly soft skin over the hard muscles, his nearly hairless chest, which paradoxically exuded masculinity. A strength that just was, yet complicated. He made me not think clearly. Some kind of non-apology for what he was went on there. No excuses, nothing hidden. His beauty creating a kind of force field.

  But I really needed to get up, like it or not. That was real, right? He would probably have to do the same, I was just up earlier.

  I tried to slip my arms out from under him and I moved a pillow closer to try and take my place. He was still sleeping. Amazing, and beautiful. The circles under his eyes were more pronounced, and he looked exhausted with the effort he had been putting into the work. There was a certain tension there, even in sleep, which made me anxious for him, and his deep set eyes looked pained.