He fought the urge to pull her back down for more of that kiss. A kiss he hadn’t been ready to end. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing … I just …” She stopped, obviously trying to calm herself. “I’m not used to kisses like … like that one.”
“That makes both of us.” Jesus, he’d never had a kiss like it and it made him want to pull her in close, press the softness of her against the hard ache of his cock.
Very bad idea. She kissed you and you nearly lost your head. In public. You should be stepping away and going home. Alone.
Jax crushed the thought. Surely one night couldn’t hurt.
She looked away, one hand going to her throat where he’d been touching her, fingers brushing over her skin. “Okay, so do you think we can get out of here now?”
Oh, hell yes.
Jax slid off the bar stool. Extracting a hundred from his wallet, he laid it on the bar for Tony, then tilted his head toward the door. “After you, Snow.”
“Uh, are we getting a cab?” she asked a little thickly. “Because I’d rather wait in here than on the sidewalk if you don’t mind.” Again she looked nervous, and he couldn’t tell if it had to do with that kiss or whether it was something more.
“No cab. I have a car.” Of course once she saw the car and his driver, she’d know that he wasn’t some regular Joe. That was okay. If she didn’t know who he was already, she wouldn’t be able to tell from the limo. Besides, there was no way he was going to take a fucking cab back to his apartment. Not when he was this hard, this ready.
Reaching for her hand, he threaded his fingers through hers then moved toward the door, tugging her after him. She came without hesitation and yet, when he glanced back at her, he could see lines of tension around her mouth, her gaze flicking around the room as if she was looking for something. Or maybe someone.
Secrets. Oh yes, this woman had secrets all right and one way or another he would get them out of her. Because now that he’d kissed her, now that he’d tasted the lightning … he wanted it all.
*
Pandora was breathing way too fast as they stepped out of the bar and onto the sidewalk. It wasn’t only because she was hoping like hell Thing One or any other of her father’s bloodhounds hadn’t tracked her down yet, although that was a concern.
No, it was mainly because of the kiss she’d given him. Her first ever. And as first kisses went, she was thinking it didn’t get much better than that. Not that she would know of course, but she’d had an online discussion once with some of her Twitter buddies about first kisses and the general consensus had been that they were both unexpectedly wet and awkward.
The kiss with Hunt hadn’t been, either. He’d tasted so hot and delicious, a smoky sweetness from the whiskey he’d been drinking. It had been all the sweeter for the fact that kissing him had been her choice. Her first kiss, taken for herself, with a guy she’d chosen. It didn’t get much better than that.
She just hadn’t expected him to put his hand around her neck, his thumb at her throat. Not that it had been scary, quite the opposite in fact. She’d found it exhilarating, shivering with delight at the feel of his hands on her skin. It made her want more. So much more.
Hunt stood on the sidewalk, a tall, dark, imperious figure, and raised a hand, gesturing down the street to someone. An arrogant movement, like a king summoning a courtier. A car pulled out of the shadows in answer, a long black car. A limo.
Jesus. This was his car? What did that make him then?
Fear sunk sharp hooks into her. That combination of danger and arrogance, she knew it well. Powerful men had it. The kind of powerful men who associated with her father.
Pandora inhaled, struggling with the fear. She could run, vanish back into the night, go to another bar maybe. Even find another man. A much safer man …
Hunt turned, blue eyes clashing with hers, sending a bolt of liquid heat through her.
No, she wasn’t going to run. She didn’t have anywhere to go anyway and besides, fear was all part of the experience, wasn’t it? Part of the excitement. Part of what was making her feel so alive after so many years of feeling suffocated.
He opened the limo door. “Get in, Snow.”
Pandora obeyed without hesitation, sliding onto the soft leather of the seats. He got in beside her, the door closing with a heavy, definite sound. Fateful almost. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to look at him, afraid that if she did something would happen. Something she wasn’t quite ready to handle just yet.
He didn’t say anything to her, leaning forward to murmur to the driver. Then he pushed a button and the screen between the back and front seats slid closed, giving them privacy.
Oh, God.
Her breath caught hard in her throat, that strange adrenaline surge of excitement and fear rushing through her veins. She didn’t make the mistake of thinking that now she was in the limo with him she was safe. Her father’s men wouldn’t find her, that much was true. But safe and being alone with this man was a contradiction in terms.
“You’re afraid now, aren’t you?” he said quietly.
She stared at the seat in front of her. Stared hard. “Yeah.” Since there wasn’t any point in denying it.
“I’m not going to touch you here, if that makes it easier.”
“Okay.”
“Unless you want me to, of course.”
“No. I think if you did I might …”
Explode. Die. Pass out.
There was a moment’s silence. She could feel him watching her but she didn’t turn to meet his gaze. She still wasn’t ready for it yet.
“Just to be clear, Snow, all you have to do is say stop. At any time. At any stage. I won’t hurt you.” His voice was quiet and certain, making something clenched hard and tight inside her begin to relax.
She closed her eyes for a second, veiling her relief. “You know, I didn’t think you would but still, it’s nice to hear it.”
He shifted, the seat dipping beneath her. In the close interior of the limo she could smell his aftershave, a warm, spicy scent that reminded her weirdly of the mulled wine she used to drink on skiing vacations at the lodge in Aspen. A good memory since those vacations had always held a special place in her heart. Of icy mountains and speed, the wind in her hair and the taste of snow at the back of her throat …
Freedom …
“Just make sure you remember it, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Because when we get home, I’m not holding back.”
Pandora opened her eyes. Calm spread through her though she couldn’t have said where it had come from. Whether from the scent of him or the memory associated with it. Or just the fact that she was genuinely free for the first time in her life.
She turned her head and finally looked at him. “Good. Because I don’t want you to.”
The streetlights flickered over the starkly beautiful lines of his face, leaving the intensity of his blue eyes in shadow. He smiled and her heart contracted inside her chest. “Be careful what you ask for, Snow. Because you might just get it.”
The drive wasn’t long and thank God because she didn’t think she could bear the tension in the car for too much longer. She even let out a soundless sigh of relief as the limo pulled up and stopped outside a stately brownstone. A beautiful building, which meant if he lived here, he wasn’t exactly short of money.
Because clearly the limo didn’t give it away. Or the thousand-dollar suit. Or the expensive whiskey he had been drinking.
Pandora ignored the snide voice. Okay, so he had money. So what? That didn’t mean he knew her father. And anyway, it was too late now, wasn’t it?
He opened the door and got out, holding it open for her. Pandora slid from the car. Of course it was too late. She’d already decided that.
His fingers wrapped around hers as they went up the steps and she could barely breathe for the heat that flashed across her skin in response. Then she was being led inside to an elevator that opened almost as soon as he touched the button. The interior was mirrored glass, her white face reflecting off so many surfaces she had to close her eyes.
As the doors closed she braced herself, expecting a touch. A kiss. Something.
But he didn’t make a move. Only said, a minute or so later, “Here we are.”
She opened her eyes and stepped out of the elevator into an expansive space of massive windows, exposed brick, and polished wooden floors. Lights came up almost immediately but they were subtle and indirect, casting moody shadows here and there.
A huge black leather sectional sofa took up center stage in the room, large enough to be a decent-sized bed. For two people.
She was still staring at it when she felt warmth at her back and the spiciness of his scent around her.
Her breath caught. This was it. This was the moment. A shudder swept through her, a tight mass of fear, excitement, and desire tangling in her gut. What should she do? Stand there? Move? Take her dress off or let him do it?
She turned around.
He stood right behind her, blue eyes glittering with an intensity that sent shockwaves of heat over her skin. The tiger was hungry and ready to pounce …
And yet he didn’t move, tension in every line of his posture as if an invisible barrier was holding him back. “Do you want a drink?” His voice sounded husky, strained.
She blinked, not expecting the question. “Uh, no. I think you know what I want.”
“Tell me.”
“You.”
He didn’t say anything, continuing to stare at her, tension wound tight as a clock spring.
Slowly, Pandora took a couple of steps toward him. “What’s wrong? I thought you weren’t going to be holding back?”
“That’s the problem. I should.”
“Why?”
“You don’t know me. I don’t know you. And I …” He stopped abruptly.
There was something conflicted in his blue eyes. Second thoughts, clearly. How strange that now they were alone in his apartment, in his territory, it was him getting cold feet.
His hesitation made her own fear and nervousness drop away. She was here, her choice made and she’d chosen him. There could be no second thoughts, not for her anyway.
Pandora closed the gap between them and put a hand on his chest, pressing her palm down onto the warm cotton, feeling the hard wall of muscle beneath it. She heard his breath catch and when she looked up into his eyes, the blue flame burning there almost made her gasp, too.
“I told you I wanted this,” she said. “I’m not going to change my mind. And I don’t want you to hold back, either.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Are you sure?” She didn’t know where her sudden bravery had come from but she went with it, sliding her hand down over his chest to the waistband of his trousers, then down further to his zipper. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m asking for this.” He was hard already, she could feel him. Jesus, really hard. And really big.
The breath hissed between his teeth as she traced the outline of his erection with her fingers, the expression on his face changing, his jaw going tight.
God, how incredible to know that she was doing this to him. That she had this kind of power. For someone who’d never had any kind of power at all, it felt amazing.
She looked into his eyes as she touched him, saw the fight going on there. Felt the rigid tension in his body. Why? Was he was locked up somehow? Trapped, like she’d been trapped? Perhaps that’s the whole reason she’d been drawn to that particular bar, to this particular man.
She was here to free him.
“I know,” she murmured. “Let’s play a game. I have to make you touch me and you have to hold back. First person to either give up or break is the loser.”
“I’m not here to play games, Snow.”
“Yeah. I thought you were here to give me an orgasm.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You said, back at the bar, that you didn’t know what you were doing.”
She should really have felt self-conscious about her lack of experience and perhaps annoyed that he’d picked up on it. But for some reason she didn’t. The balance of power between them had changed and even though she was the one at a disadvantage, what with her virginity and being in his territory, she didn’t feel like she was.
No, the power right now was with her.
Pandora smiled. “I don’t really, no.” She ran her fingers down the hard line of his cock. “But I’d love for you to show me.”
Jax tried to hold himself still but it was difficult, the light, tantalizing touch of her finger making it difficult to think.
He’d thought taking her here, to the little apartment he sometimes used when he wanted to get away from Morrow, had been an excellent plan. His usual home was a penthouse at the top of the Morrow Tower, but that would give away his identity in a big way so the brownstone it was. He kept nothing personal here so there was no way for her to know who he was or even guess. Which meant he could indulge himself. Let the leash slip for a couple of hours. Not be Jax Morrow, CEO of New York’s biggest company. The man always in charge and always in control.
Yet the moment the elevator doors had closed and they were alone, he’d felt the desire for her kick in with such intensity it had shaken him to the core. Yes, he’d decided he’d let himself go tonight but shit, he hadn’t realized till now just had badly he wanted her.
He’d never loosened the ties of his self-control before, not with anyone, and he didn’t know what would happen if he did.
You do. Chaos and heartache.
Her fingers squeezed lightly and the thought vanished. “Fuck,” he hissed.
“Well? Or, I can go if you want.”
“No,” he said hoarsely. Sure, it would be better for both of them if she left but he didn’t want her to. She stood in front of him, dark eyes liquid, her thumb moving up and down, stroking his cock through his pants, that teasing, sensual little smile curling her beautiful mouth and he just … couldn’t bear the thought of her disappearing.
Which means you have to do something with her, asshole.
Normally that would involve drinks and dinner. A certain amount of foreplay, then a couple of bouts of missionary position or, depending on the woman and what she liked, maybe something more exotic. Orgasms all around.