“I suppose she is quite the tough negotiator. Fine. We’ll talk in a couple days.”
“Count on it.”
I clicked off, looked at the image of his long, golden face on screen. He had a thin, enigmatic smile, completely him.
It’d be nice to have a night away from this game, the one that had ruled my life. But the pieces never stopped moving.
I did have all this extra stress to burn off now, though.
I found Kerry standing by the wall off to the side. She glanced nervously as I approached, but she also looked a bit curious.
“Sorry about that,” I said, leaning in over her.
“No problem. It gave me a bit of a breather.”
“Good. I’ve got a feeling you’re going to need it.”
“I actually go to bed to get rest, not lose it.”
There was a sloop to her form though, an easiness to her voice that wasn’t there before. Maybe my reprieve had made her see I wasn’t some mindless hound dog.
I did so love when one move worked for two games. Thing was, I was quickly losing my cool as I eyed her curves again.
“I forgot to thank you by the way,” she said. “It is actually nice for you to try to get me a room.”
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down. Demetri had us booked at the Marriott Penthouse.
“I don’t try, darlin'.” I showed her the screen. “If I want something, I get it.”
She gulped quite audibly. It gave me reason to watch the long smooth curve of her neck.
I forwarded the email to the other guys, then pocketed the phone.
“Shall we?” I said, holding out the crook of my arm.
“I thought there were eight of us.”
“There are, but you really don’t want to wait for them to finish drinking.”
She eyed my arm, then the exit, then back. “Alright,” she said, slipping her hand through.
It was soft and slender. It was barely a feather of a touch, but it was start.
I tightened my grip and led her down the concourse towards our separate rooms.
Yeah, right.
CHAPTER THREE
Kerry
A thick murmur grew above us as we entered the hotel lobby. The entire airport must have relocated here.
Did places like this factor for days like this in their profits and losses?
That was a safe accountant thing to ponder. It was entirely more comfortable to consider than what was going to happen to me in this place.
Deacon’s hands were off me but his presence was as firm as another wall at my back.
My arm still tingled from all the places his finger had pressed on the ride over. Cupping my
elbow as he helped me into the taxi. Spreading my palm as he traced out his work in the North Dakota oilfields. Gripping my wrist, as he showed me gently just how to prepare to drill.
Emphasis on drill.
He'd only offered flashes of strength. Even as he stretched out in the back, his arms had stayed respectfully over the cushions. Just the idea of his touch so close to my shoulder had my hairs on edge, reaching towards him.
He wanted me to cross that last inch on my own. And he knew just how to make me want it.
This wasn’t the cheap fantasy in my head when I first spotted him. Ten minutes, and he had me possessed. How deep into his cage would I willingly go?
I knew the sort of places this pull could lead. I should be terrified and I was, a little. But a lot more of me was trying not to shiver with excitement.
“Let me go get our room key,” he said, stopping me at a giant black faux-granite column. “You wait right here.”
“Room
keys
,” I said. “Yours and mine.”
He glanced back, head dipped coyly. “Sure, I’ll get a spare.”
I slumped against the pillar. Ok, finally, I had to time to actually think this through while he queued up. What the hell was I planning here? Even he saw how feeble my resistance was, by now.
None of my exes had even a fraction of the pull that this guy had. Both of them had been sweet and thoughtful types. My first boyfriend had given me so much space and time to come to him. He knew how big a step it was. And I had, and our first night together had been sweet and life-affirming, even if we didn’t last.
This man promised the exact opposite. My opinion barely counted. I was an object to manipulate.
He'd have his way with me…Yes, he’d take that tall, rippling, tan form of his and setting it to work on me. Gripping me, twisting me, bending. All the strength he'd been using up north would come to bear on my soft body.
No, no, that was not what I needed to think about. I clapped my cheeks.
It he just wanted one night that was fine. That was great. But he had a weight to him, and the closer I got, the harder its pull. He might laugh with his buddies, but there was no mistaking that he was the boss.
If he wanted to, he could make me do anything, even after we left this hotel. That was the real threat.
“Alright,” Deacon said. “Ready to head up?”
I blinked at him. It hadn't been a minute. “What?”
He fanned the keycards in my face. “Floor twenty-seven and floor twenty-eight. As promised.”
Floor? So much was happening. “Wait how are you back so fast?”
“It’s amazing the service you can get with a little insistence.”
“But…the line.”
“Lines are for lemmings. Didn’t I tell you? They’re not for people of action like you and me.” He stretched arrogantly. “I just walked up and asked politely.”
“And no one shouted you back in line.”
He flashed a delicious grin. “Does this look like a face people yell at?”
I couldn’t even find the energy to bat that back at him. “Ok, fine. Which room is mine?”
“Floors, sweetheart.” He swiveled me by the shoulder towards the elevators.
“Ok, which floor?” I stopped. “Wait, what do you mean floor?”
“Oh.” His brow folded softly in thought. “It’s like you know, when there’s one house on top of another house. Each of those is called a floor.”
I punched him in the shoulder. I’d had more success moving cement walls. Though touching those cement walls didn't make me want to throw my whole body at them.
He chuckled, landed a hand on my back and pressed me onward.
“Alright,” he said. “What’s there to say? Our company has the top floors rented out at several hotels in every class alpha city on the planet. We treat employees right here.”
“We’re going to the penthouse?” I said.
“
I’m
going to the penthouse. Where you land is entirely up to you.”
He pressed the elevator button. The doors chimed open before us immediately, revealing an empty car, cause of course they would. Tonight wasn’t even real anymore. One minute I was heading home to my cat and my best friend, and now I was going to be the highest geographical feature outside of downtown.
Deacon pressed me in, his hand falling to the small of my back. Ok, that touch was very much real. Unless, I put a stop to it, I’d be feeling that a lot more.
That and other things. It'd been more than a year, but my body knew this routine deep down. My jeans suddenly felt very hot. I shifted my legs, but that only seemed to open up a new ache.
Deacon pressed the top button. The doors shut and we rocketed up. I waited for his move, but he stood still, only glancing admiringly up and down my body.
He wouldn't cross that gap. I was safe enough if I kept my cool.
But he was doing his best to make me dizzy.
His lips were curled up just slightly. His tongue flicked out and wet them.
Oh god, I could not go up to the penthouse. I wasn’t even sure I could last this ride.
I reached for the lower floor button, but he grabbed my wrist.
“Just come check out the view first,” he said. “Then see if you want to leave.”
I swallowed. “There’s nothing to see out here,” I said with an airless voice. “We’re miles from downtown.
His fingers traced their way off my palm. “I didn’t say you’d have to look outside.”
Uh oh.
The last of my brain shriveled into a dot.
The doors opened and a soothing subway voice read out, “Penthouse level.”
The room in front of me was two stories tall. We had come out into some cross between the kitchen and dining room. There was a glass and metal table held away from steel cabinets and a fridge by a gleaming island stove. Round white lights above cast a gentle glow on everything.
Deacon grabbed my bag and turned in.
“Hey,” I followed him to a vast living room with walls of glass like the airport itself. Black leather sofas sat at sharp angles from each other without a TV in sight.
“What?” he said, glancing back as he went on into a hallway that led off to darker rooms.
I stayed planted outside.
“Where you taking my bag?” I yelled.
“Somewhere more comfortable,” his voice rang out.
“It’s supposed to head downstairs.”
He grew back from the shadows, unbuttoning his grey shirt. His chest showed clearly through the white fabric underneath. It clung to every bulge and crack of his toned abs and pecs.
He walked right up to me, his face dark and hungry. “Come on, now,” he said. “We both know that’s not true.”
Then, his hand was cupping my chin, his lips pressing toward me. I had the barest sense to jerk my head back. I couldn’t escape his grip, but he stopped.
“Still not listening, I see.”
It was my every fear – a man whose words demanded obedience. And yet my legs felt wider. What sort of a man who could make me forget my promises to myself?
“Who the hell are you?” I asked.
He nudged in closer, his breath becoming the same as mine, a hot musky odor that left no room for thought. “I’m the man who’s going to fuck you, darlin',” he said. “Good enough?”
His lips glistened, barely in my vision. I had to yield. I had to accept to taste them.
And I wanted them.
I wanted everything.
“Ok,” I whispered, and tipped my chin up to him.
His kiss started surprisingly tender, just a slow brush of the lips. Our mouths moved in bigger circles and his tongue flitted out. It was a big thing, so full of power. No wonder he was so confident.
The creak between my legs dawned into an ache. My body flushed. God, I really was going to get fucked. Everything he’d promised would come true.
How had I ever doubted my surrender?
He tasted the change on me. His tongue dove harder into my mouth. His hands curved around me, cupping my head, grabbing my rear. He kneaded my ache wider, making space for his hot hard, arrival. My panties moved wet along my slit as I spread to his touch.
His mouth began nibbling its way down my shoulder. His stubble rasped my tender skin, and the itch just made me more raw, more bare to him. He kissed my neck and his hard cheeks pressed into mine. Everything about him dominated everything about me.
A sudden fire erupted inside me. He had not won me. I wanted this.
I pressed into his lust, as if that was a protest. As if I wasn’t just a fly succumbing to a spider: paralyzed, liquefying, ready to be consumed.
My sweater and shirt lifted over my head before I realized it was happening.
He scooped me up and set me on the back of a couch. His hard jaw landed between my covered breasts and he kissed my way off them. Just the sight of that powerful face at work on my lush flesh started me moaning. My voice wasn't mine anymore.
Then, his mouth landed on my nipple. I grabbed clumps of his thick hair and shuddered under his wet, suckling ecstasy.
“That’s right, darlin',” he said solemnly, shifting to my other breast. “Sing for me.”
“Oh you bastard,” I sighed, and then my world went white as he clenched my nipple with his lips. He swirled his tongue hard and rough, making me peal like a bell, before lifting off.
“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that number,” he smiled up at me.
I tugged him back towards my mouth. He shot up with fresh hunger. I shrieked as kissed me almost horizontal over the couch back. Only his arm around my back held me up. A thrill ran down my spine mingling with my ache below.
Then, his hand left. I toppled back over the couch. He caught my legs and I hung there in an arch, looking out at the twinkling city suspended over a land of grey clouds. Blinding lightning arced off in the distance. The world was as wild and unreal as what was happening here.
There was a tightness as my jeans were shrugged off, and then my panties came off, and I was bare. I shivered, as the cool air hit my wetness, and again as Deacon’s hot breath blew it away.
“Oh my,” Deacon threatened above me. “That berry looks ripe. Am I your first?”
“Don’t flatter your- ahhh.”
His tongue shoved into me sharply. It was a monstrous thing that flexed and spread in ways that made no sense. The ache swelled into a monumental longing to be filled deeper. The more the thing plunged in, the harder I wanted it.