Read The Man Without Rules Online

Authors: Tyffani Clark Kemp

Tags: #Erotica

The Man Without Rules (3 page)

"I'm not one of your women, Mr. Boa." Mariss ripped off a piece of bread and put it in her mouth. She chewed it quickly.

"You most certainly are."

Mariss stopped chewing and looked up, her face twisted in disbelief and amusement. "And where did you hear that?"

She thought he'd seen it in a tabloid. That was cute.

"Do you know what lovely sounds you make when you climax with two men inside you at the same time?"

The blood drained from her face again and Mariss looked at him horrified. She didn't know.

 
CHAPTER THREE
 

Your
Birthday Present

Sebastian frowned at her horror-stricken face. That wasn't exactly the reaction he was expecting.

Mariss jumped out of her seat. She stumbled, caught herself, and made it a few feet before she collapsed. Her body convulsed and the rolls she'd scarfed down came back up.

Sebastian was out of his chair and at her side in a flash. He scooped her hair out of her face and rested what he hoped would be a soothing hand on her back.

"You didn't know?" he asked gently, but even as he did, he knew it was possible. The Black Room was dark for a reason and she'd never actually seen his face. Still, he assumed one of them might have known. The husband should have at least caught on.

Mariss shook her head.

"Can you stand?" She nodded and he helped her to her feet.

"I'm going to the restroom," she said.

Sebastian would have helped her, but she pulled away from him. He let her go, and turned to the little host who'd come running and now looked disgusted. Sebastian couldn't do anything but shrug and take his seat while someone came to clean up the mess.

She didn't know. That bothered him, but it intrigued him even more. There were some women who desired threesomes because of a certain man, someone they'd had a fantasy of for a while. Then there were women who desired a threesome for the experience itself. What was it like? How did it work? It seemed Mariss was the latter. That presented another problem for him to have to work through. Even then, he'd seen how much love she had for the husband. That wasn't easily broken, though he wasn't trying to break it, per se. She wouldn't have an attachment to him as her second partner so it wouldn't matter to her that he was the one she'd been with.

Well, okay. It mattered to everyone, but it wouldn't be a deciding factor for her. He'd just have to create an attachment.

Mariss walked out of the bathroom a moment later. Her eyes flicked to the floor and relief flooded her face. When she looked up and saw him, she blushed.

As glad as he was to see some color back in her cheeks, he toned down his smolder and offered a smile.

"Alright?"

Mariss nodded and took her seat.

"Is the idea of being with me so repulsive?"

Mariss gave him startled eyes. "No, I apologize. I just…haven't eaten all day. I guess I ate those rolls too quickly. No, that wasn't you. I was startled, but…no."

She was coming across as very meek now, as opposed to her earlier frosty attitude. "You truly didn't know that you were in my club that night with me?"

"I was aware that it was your club, however, you were not the deciding factor."

"Oh no?" he asked. Her answer amused him. "What was your deciding factor?"

"Confidentiality and safety ratings."

Sebastian nodded. "That's very practical of you."

"What's wrong with being practical?" she snapped. She had another roll in her hand, but she wasn’t eating it.

"Nothing at all," he assured her. Sebastian settled back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm not just going to let any man stick his…" she paused and looked around. When she spoke again her voice was lower. "Stick his dick in my ass."

"No, I should hope not," he agreed. "It's far too nice of an arse for that."

Mariss blinked at him, her eyes wide. When she looked past him, her eyes let him know that someone was coming. A bowl of broth was set on the table in front of her and she smiled kindly to the host. Sebastian had to admit that he was doing a very good job.

"I brought you some broth to help settle your stomach," the host said before he turned to Sebastian. "Are you ready to order?"

"I am. Do you want anything else?" he asked Mariss.

"I'll have a salad," she said, "with a light dressing."

"And I'll have the chicken
marsala
. Viognier if you have it, please." The host nodded and left. "So, at least tell me you enjoyed yourself that night." Mariss watched him lift a glass of water to his lips, and it was all he could do not to smile.

"You couldn't tell?" Her cheeks flushed the softest pink.

"Absolutely.
I just wanted to hear your say it." He grinned self-assuredly and she rolled her eyes.

"Of course, I enjoyed myself, or you would have gotten an earful of a different kind. Not just the lovely sounds I make."

Her cheeks deepened to red. She dipped her head and lifted the spoon, sipping politely at the broth.

"What made you and your
husband decide
to go out that night?"

"It was something we'd been discussing." She took another spoonful of broth. "He wanted to surprise me. It was my birthday."

The grin Sebastian had been so desperately trying to suppress finally broke through. "I was your birthday present."

Mariss sighed. She let her eyes shut in acceptance of him, and he waited for her next words.

"If that's the way you choose to look at it."

Sebastian nodded slowly. Finally, the sun broke through and she smiled. Her whole demeanor changed and some color came back into her face, not just from blushing.

They were both brought salads. Mariss dug in.

"Slow down," he chuckled. "We have plenty of time." She pretended not to hear him and he found that appealing. "Do you normally just not eat?"

Mariss shook her head. "It was a busy morning," she said. "I had to set up by myself and it took a lot longer than I expected. I had just finished when you demanded I bring you water. I hope you enjoyed it, by the way."

"It was quite refreshing. Thank you."

She shrugged like she didn't care. "I just forgot to eat this morning. That's all.
Nothing to be alarmed about."

"You're much thinner than I remember."

She flushed again and he realized how much he enjoyed watching her cheeks turn red.

"It's been a rough month with losing the baby and everything."

Sebastian frowned. "I didn't know."

"Oh. I thought everyone knew. I did an interview a few weeks ago." Mariss made lifting her shoulders in dismissal look so elegant.

"I don't watch much television and I've been on non-stop shoots the last few weeks." With all of his research, how did he not know that? "What else don't I know about you, Mrs. Red?"

She looked up at him like she was going to correct him on the use of her last name, but thought better of it.

"I'm German."

"No, you're not." That was something he would have known.

But Mariss nodded. "I was born in Germany. I speak the language fluently. I love
bossche bollen
."

Bossche bollen
was a whipped cream filled-profiterole coated in dark chocolate that Hellena was also quite fond of.

Sebastian smiled. "Yes, I like a good
bossche bollen
."

"My husband makes them for me." Her voice became tender. "They're almost as good as my mother's."

"Are you feeling better?" Sebastian liked that she was getting more comfortable with him. She relaxed into the booth and the lines around her eyes and mouth smoothed.

Mariss nodded. "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me. You need to be more vigilant about making sure you eat in the mornings."

Her eyebrow went up, or what he assumed to be her eyebrow going up. The right one arched a bit, but it wasn't very dramatic.

"Were you expecting a 'yes, sir'?"

"It would be nice, but I don't have any expectations."
Or delusions.
He didn't suspect Mariss was the kind of woman to concede too often.

"You've worked with Bernard before?"

Sebastian liked how seamlessly she changed the subject. He nodded. "Yes. He took my first photos before I got started. I owe him as much as I owe myself for what I have, I suppose."

"That's shockingly humble of you."

"Ah. So you believe the hype."

"Hype?"
Mariss chewed her salad. "Is that what you call it? I'm not one for gossip and I know women exaggerate, but some things are hard to deny. You're not known for your generosity."

"No, I suppose not. You're not known to be so bristly, either." The moment he said it, he realized he shouldn't have, but there was no taking it back.

"It's been a long month," she reminded him.

Sebastian nodded. "I'm not a humble person," he confessed. "I won't pretend to be. But I do recognize when I owe something to someone. Bernard is a good man and he tries to keep me in my place as best he can."

Mariss chuckled.
"In your place?
I wager that's a task in and of
itself
."

"Oh, you've no idea." He gave her a mischievous smile and watched her swoon. Out of pure villainy, Sebastian pulled his lip between his teeth and let it go slowly. Mariss' lips parted and her eyes dilated. Point, set, and match.

He smirked and turned his eyes down to his salad. Sebastian fluffed it with his fork before he put a bite in his mouth and chewed slowly.

"I'm going to go."

He looked up, assessing, watching as she fumbled with her phone. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for lunch. Don't forget to feed your hungry ladies. Send me a receipt and I'll have you paid back for this."

Sebastian didn't bother to argue with her. What a stupid request. Pay him back for a salad and some rolls. He actually rolled his eyes. It wasn't often that someone, anyone, could make him forget himself so quickly that he rolled his eyes. Never a woman, though the ones he ended up with could be trying.

"I'll see you back at the set then."

Mariss shook her head. "I'm going to go back to my room. I'm not feeling well."

He'd scared her off. The lip bite got them every time, but they didn't usually run from him. Sebastian watched somewhat helplessly as she walked away. He frowned for a moment,
then
shrugged. He had many more tricks up his sleeve.

***

Sebastian laid his coat over the back of the chair and undid his cufflinks. Elise settled on the edge of the bed and started to remove her shoes.

"Leave them on."

She looked up at him surprised, and left her shoes on.

"Don't look at me with those surprised brown eyes. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Elise blinked. Not all of his women were able to handle his forwardness. Sebastian unbuttoned his shirt and let it slip off his shoulders, revealing the white tank top underneath. He laid the shirt on top of his jacket and advanced toward her with purpose. Climbing onto the bed next to her, Sebastian used his proximity to lay Elise back until she had nowhere else to go.

"Dinner wasn't what you really wanted, was it?" he asked, his lips hovering over her ear.

"I don't know what you mean, Bastian."

He chuckled seductively. "Don't play coy, sweetheart. You know I can read you like a book." His tongue licked across her skin. There was no taste of salt. He'd have to do something to change that. "What was it you really wanted from me?"

"You promised me dinner." Her voice was low, her breath soft in his ear.

"Is that all?"

"Mm hm."

More irritated by her refusal to answer than aroused, Sebastian pushed himself away from her. He slid his shoes off and padded to the bathroom in his socks to relieve himself.

"Did you want something to drink?" he called back to the bedroom.

"No," she answered cautiously.

"I think I do." He zipped his pants back up and washed his hands.

"Would you like for me to go out and get you something?" Elise smiled.

"No, I think I'll get it myself. Would you join me?"

Elise slipped off the bed and joined him at the door. Sebastian took her hand in his and led her to the kitchen. He poured himself a drink, sans the ice, and sipped. The Bourbon helped to revive him some. He always found it disappointing when he couldn't end the night the way he'd planned.

"Thank you for a lovely evening. Dinner was delicious."

Elise smiled and pressed herself against him, her hands wrapping around to caress his smooth back. Sebastian leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss.

"Have you seen my last cover?" he asked. Elise shook her head. He took her by the wrist and led her into the living room. Proofs lay on his coffee table from earlier that morning.

"These are great, Bastian," she said. "Are they the ones you did for
Ell Em Ent
?"

He nodded.

"Oh, I've wanted to see these." She flipped through the photos making comments about each one. When she was finished, she stood and joined him next to one of the many bookcases in his flat.

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