Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

“ O nly happy people have nightmares, from overeating. For those who live a nightmare reality, sleep is a black hole, lost in time, like death.”

—Guy Sajer

Jasmine

Nightmares were a part of a kid’s world, maybe from a terrifying story told around a fire or from being silly enough to watch a horror flick way too late in the night. Braxton and I were oil and water. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t still attracted to him, especially given his generous gestures. He’d ordered almost everything on the menu, three attendants needed to bring the food to the room.

I’d been starving, the entire day nothing but a horrific blur. The shower had soothed some of the aches, the fluffy robe exactly what I’d needed. However, the quiet between us, the unspoken words were as troubling as the incident earlier.

We were sitting at a linen-covered table directly in front of a series of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Potomac, colorful boats lining the water. What I didn’t understand was why he’d bothered with candlelight, or maybe one of the bellmen had mistaken my incarceration as a date.

What I was thoroughly enjoying was the wine, a sultry cabernet with hints of walnut and blackberry. I could tell he was watching me, studying me as if determined to find me in a lie. I was as troubled as he was about the events but had no idea who was behind the attack. Unless the mafia assholes had followed us to America.

“Tell me about the Honoured Society,” he finally said as he cut into his extremely rare filet. He’d been slow to eat, enjoying his scotch instead of partaking in food that would simply go to waste.

“I’m no expert on the Aussie mafia, Braxton,” I said and concentrated on my food, twirling a forkful of my seafood pasta against a huge spoon.

“If you were snooping, I know your cunning abilities well enough to know you discovered some burning secret.”

“You know me well enough? You know nothing.”

He laughed and pushed himself back from the table, glaring at me with those same dark, incredulous eyes. “I’m an excellent observer of behavior.”

I wasn’t entirely certain what he was getting at, but I didn’t like his tone. I placed my utensils on the plate, staring at him in the same manner he had with me. “You might think you know me, but I know shit about you other than what you want the public to know. You act as if you want to protect me, but it feels like I’m under a microscope. Or the bright light of an interrogation. I don’t like that.”

“And I don’t like being conned.”

“Fuck you,” I said quietly, my heart racing. So much of me had wanted him to join me in the shower. I’d almost been stupid enough to call for him. I needed to have my head examined.

He reached over, snagging my wrist and pulling me closer. “I suggest you remember who saved your life.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m the enemy.” He didn’t seem to expect my quick retort, although one aspect he should know about me by now was that I spoke my mind.

At all costs.

I couldn’t hate him but so much, because he was right. He was also far too sexy in his clean shirt that he hadn’t bothered to tuck in. Just staring into his piercing eyes was another reminder I could have died. Yet seeing blood on him was even worse.

After a few seconds of our mental and emotional showdown, he released his firm hold. “Maybe you are right.”

It was impossible not to study him as he’d done with me, trying to memorize all the sexy details about his chiseled face. I wasn’t certain why I hadn’t noticed the small scar over his eye before.

“Bar fight?” I asked, returning to my normal bratty self.

He sat all the way back in his chair, swirling his tumbler on the table. “No. I ran through a plate glass window in a summer vacation house. My mother was none too happy our two-year planned trip had been cut short.”

“I hadn’t noticed before. Do you have scars anywhere else?” I leaned forward, allowing my curiosity to get the better of me. My voice was a little too seductive.

“My back.”

“From?”

“My younger brother who stabbed me with a knife he’d gotten for Christmas.” He finally smiled, his eyes glazing over from the memory.

“Ouch.”

“More with him. I think it was the first and only time my father took him behind his office door for punishment.”

He could flip his emotions and his pattern of talking on a dime. At least that allowed me to laugh. “So close, huh?”

“Actually, we are. More so as we got older.”

“I always wanted to have a brother or sister, but it wasn’t in the cards.” I took another bite of food, wanting to pepper him with questions. “My mother could barely tolerate having a kid in the first place.”

“What is it that you need to know about me that will allow you to trust me?”

The question was valid and one I hadn’t thought through. “I don’t know. Are you a good guy?”

His laugh filled me with hunger. “You already know the answer to that. I’m ruthless and some say a forever playboy.”

“I don’t buy that. You just haven’t found the right person yet. They are tough to find, the search exhausting.” Now I was giving relationship advice? How fascinating.

“Is that you want, a relationship? A huge family?”

I pushed the plate away, uncertain I even knew the answer. “I really want a career of my own and yet, I’m not certain what that is. I know I want to have a business of my own, treating employees like family. But I have many interests.”

“Such as?”

“Fine art. Sculpture. Music. Television. I think whatever I do I want to remain creative. I can’t imagine being a boring accountant.” We both laughed, which was a welcome respite. “I can see a fabulous art gallery where huge showings are done, wine and champagne flowing.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“I know. Frivolous.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking. I don’t see you that way at all. You’re highly intelligent and can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Good. If you think of me as nothing but a nerd, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“You will never be mistaken for a nerd.” He polished off his drink, immediately getting to his feet and heading to the bar. “What else do you want to know?”

I had to think about how far down the rabbit hole I wanted this to go. “Favorite color?”

He turned his head quickly, the sexiest smile I’d seen crossing his face. “Really?”

“Really. You can tell a lot about a person by the color they choose.”

“Blue, I guess.”

“You guess. Hmmm…”

After pouring another half glass, he swaggered back in my direction. “No one has ever asked me a simple question like that before.” After placing his glass on the table, he refilled my wine.

“Mine is easy. Red. A power color. It suits me.”

“Yes, it does. What should that tell me about you?”

“That I refuse to give up a fight no matter how brutal.” I’d obviously amused him, his laugh tickling all my senses.

“I like that about you, amongst other things. You know, I think my favorite color is emerald green.”

“Ah, a beautiful representation of the earth and everything solid.”

“Maybe so.”

“Favorite food?”

His nostrils flared as he allowed his overheated gaze to fall. “Isn’t that obvious. A blood-red steak.”

“Mmm… A meat and potatoes boy.”

“To a degree, yes. You?”

“You happened to select my absolute favorite. I love seafood and pasta. Although ice cream is a close second.”

“Not a vegemite sandwich?”

Now I was the one to wrinkle my nose. “Have you ever eaten that crap?”

As he burst into laughter, another twinge of need hit me. “I can’t say I have.”

“Let me give you a hint. Don’t.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What else,” I said before taking a sip of my wine. “I know. What did you want to be when you grew up? A kink club owner?”

“Hardly. I wanted to be an architect but when you’re born into the family I was, you are required to gravitate toward the family business. Thankfully, my older brother enticed me to take the various exams needed to become a financial advisor, our younger brother realizing how much money could be made off rich people.”

“You’re rich.”

“Yes, but I’m insatiable.” He leaned further over the table, cocking that sexy head of his.

“Yes, I think you are. Are you truly sadistic?”

“I am.”

“Hmmm… I’ll keep that in mind.”

He took a deep breath and it felt as if I wasn’t even wearing the robe. “You should do that. Perhaps we’ll have more time to explore your dark needs.”

“Perhaps.” We’d had many awkward moments settling between us but this seemed overheated. Enough so a tiny bead of perspiration trickled down the back of my neck. My hair was even still damp from the shower, the quick makeup I’d applied barely hiding the girl underneath. Not that he seemed to mind. I wanted the man but what good would it do to become even more involved? I allowed the tips of my fingers to slide down the side of my neck into the bodice of my robe. I couldn’t seem to help myself, enticing him as if we were a couple.

“Bad girl,” he whispered and took another sip of his drink.

“I thought you figured that out.”

“I did. Trust me.” He appeared more thoughtful, perhaps thinking about fun questions he could ask me. “One more question. Do you know the name Jameson Bishop?”

Just like that, the man could turn a good time into a grilling session. I jerked back from the table, tossing my napkin onto the table as I stood. “You just can’t quit. Can you? All this protection mode is a joke to you, allowing you information about my father that you’ll use against him and I have no idea why. Well, I want no part of it.”

I’d managed to turn around, determined to head to the bedroom I’d been assigned when he snagged my arm as he’d done before, only this time he swung me around, taking long strides and shoving me hard against the window.

When he cupped my face, his grip firmer than it had been before, I issued an involuntary moan before I could stop it. “Don’t do that, Jasmine.”

“Don’t do what? Call you on the carpet for pretending to give a shit?”

“Have you stopped to think that maybe I do give a shit? I was beside myself when you left, furious but terrified of what you might get yourself into.” He had the nerve to grind his hips back and forth. Did sparring together always make him hard?

“You’re a user.” I did my best to drive him away, but he was a total immoveable object.

“And you’re a con artist.” He was finished with our discussion, crushing his mouth over mine.

I was shell shocked at first, unable to move at all. As much as I still wanted to push him away, I couldn’t. The desire we shared was incredible, so much so I slipped one arm around his neck, curling my fingers in his hair. The kiss immediately became frantic, ripped with passion and need. I’d thought his kisses before were intense.

This one was off the charts. He had a way of making me lightheaded instantly, pushing my boundaries and my hunger to a crazy level. I found myself tearing at his shirt, even ripping buttons in my effort to touch his heated skin. As soon as I managed, I moaned into the kiss. He could truly make me crazier than any man I’d ever known but I wanted him.

Bad.

He seemed to feel the same, creating enough space between us he was able to untie the sash on my robe, jerking the material from my shoulders. As soon as he tugged it away, the fact I was standing naked in front of a wide-open window hit me hard, even though no one could see a thing.

Maybe he could read my tastes and needs better than I’d thought, dominating my tongue in such a way I was aching all over within seconds. I did the same thing with his shirt, fighting to pull it free of his thick arm muscles. As soon as I did, just being able to brush my fingers down both arms created a wave of electricity between us that could easily light up the Big Apple.

There was no stopping our passion, the longing getting the best of us. Foes or friends, it didn’t matter at this moment. He had been right in that enemies made the best lovers. I fought deftly this time to unbuckle his belt, still drinking in his rich scent, wanting my body to be covered with his fragrance as well as his cum.

The heightened level of need kept sparks floating in front of my eyes. I didn’t need to focus, easily shoving his trousers down his thighs. I sensed he was finishing the rest, kicking off his shoes and only breaking the kiss long enough to remove his pants altogether.

For a man who had easily shown me how much he could control both his needs and the sadistic darkness swirling inside of him, he was wilder than before.

Unrelenting.

Perhaps the horrible near kidnapping experience had spiced up our love life. Who was I kidding? For two people who were oil and water, we were completely combustible. I was certain we’d both become severely scarred in the process.

But at this moment, I didn’t care.

Braxton broke the kiss long enough to use his fingers shoving back my head until it rested against the cool glass. That allowed him to growl and nip my lower lip, dragging first his tongue then his teeth from one side of my jaw to the other. All I could do was try to control my breathing while I kneaded his carved chest.

How could a man be this good looking? How many times had I asked myself the same thing? He dropped his head enough to bite down on the side of my neck, no doubt creating a hickey. Another moan escaped, my body shaking.

As he slipped his hands under my bottom, I knew exactly what he was going to do. The moment he impaled me with his thick cock, I uttered a scream that floated between us. I had a feeling it was a good thing this was the penthouse, or we could be kicked out of such a fine establishment.

If he noticed or cared, I wouldn’t know it, the force he’d used pinning me to the glass. His eyes were glassy and he yanked one arm over my head then the other, his grin positively evil.

“I could fuck you for hours on end,” he huffed, pulling almost all the way out as I struggled to clasp my legs together.

“Then do it.”

“My temptation.”

“My angry savior.”

I adored the way his upper lip curled, his long eyelashes skimming against his cheeks. He was a man possessed, determined to take what he wanted. He drove into me again, rolling onto the balls of his feet.

It was impossible not to moan, the force he was using adding to the rush of excitement. I smacked my hands on the glass as he repeated the move. My pussy had been throbbing all throughout dinner, the current ache overheating my core.

This was wild, primal fucking, two beasts in the night and I was thrilled and taken aback, my mind one amazing blur. At least there was no more talking, our needs too intense.

With every brutal thrust, I was pushed more and more into a sweet level of oblivion. My toes were already curled, the clamp and release of my muscles pulling his huge cock in even deeper. I felt so many emotions, which wasn’t like me. Gratefulness. Terror.

Desire burning so brightly I was blinded.

Yet I still wanted to hate him, as crazy as that sounded. I knew the reason why. If I did, I could keep my heart protected and he was the kind of man who could challenge everything.

He nuzzled into my neck, nibbling on my skin once again as he slowed his pace but I knew that wasn’t going to last for long. He was far too hungry, much like I was.

Not for food.

Not for his beloved rare steak.

For me, the one woman who’d dared be rebellious. I kind of liked that position. Not that he would ever allow me to be the dominating party.

He drove into me even harder, knocking the breath out of me.

Beads of perspiration were now trickling down both sides of my neck and my forehead from the near desperate need and exertion we were using. It was crazy and amazing, our togetherness a wild example of how opposites could attract.

“Come for me, Jasmine. I need to feel your pussy muscles pulling me in even deeper.”

Was he kidding me? I couldn’t come on command, but the moment he whispered it more harshly into my ear, my body responded instantly.

The insanity of such a powerful climax was impossible with anyone other than him. I was lost, my mind floating far away as the pleasure turned into pure ecstasy.

He thrust harder and faster, pushing me from one orgasm to another. I could hear my strange animalistic sounds, but his growls could beat mine anytime. He was showing me he was nothing but a beast in the wild. I had to wonder how many women were this lucky, able to let go?

As he pulled back slightly, allowing the orgasm to settle, I could tell he wasn’t going to take his eyes off mine.

I rolled my hand from his forehead to his hair, adoring the way the thick strands felt as I tangled them relentlessly. He refused to stop moving. While his actions were slow, the man developing a perfect beat, he was by no means close to being finished with me. I didn’t need for him to tell me that. I already knew.

He considered me to belong to him.

I was both thrilled and scared, but nothing was going to break this moment of sheer joy. When I finally came down from the rafters, gasping for air, he spun me around to face the incredible city.

“What?” I managed, my voice completely unrecognizable.

This time, he bit down on my shoulder, shaking his head slightly as I gazed at our reflection. I knew my hot breath would steam the windows at any moment, but the way his eyes seemed so different, even more piercing, captured a little bit of my soul.

“I want more.” His words were stark, his voice gravelly and as he kicked my legs apart, I knew exactly what he was going to do.

His cock fully slickened, he pressed the tip against my dark hole, both of us gasping for air. He was gentler than he’d been, sliding his shaft in slowly.

But that didn’t mean the pain wasn’t raw or real. My sharp cries were a dead giveaway.

He was tender, stopping to allow me to get used to his thick girth.

“Oh… You are so…”

“Amazing? Perfect?” He was teasing me, biting down on my other shoulder.

“Never.”

“You might be an amazing con artist, but you are a terrible liar.” He drove another two or three inches inside.

Our reflection remained only for a few seconds longer, but I was able to capture how incredible we looked together.

“I’m the perfect one,” I whispered. Why was it incredible sex could take away your voice? And your mind? He cracked his hand on my bottom as if a reminder, chuckling in such a way it sent another wave of electric shivers through me. When he repeated the action three more times, I allowed the sweet lull to return.

There was no more pain, not even a sense of discomfort. Even when he was fully seated inside, pumping more forcefully, the rippling sensations were some of the most incredible I’d ever felt. We moved together, his stamina just like I’d experienced before but I sensed his needs were winning the battle.

As I drew a crazy little heart in the steam I’d created on the window, I squeezed my muscles.

“Fuck. Such a bad little girl.” He cracked his hand down four more times, still trying to keep the same rhythm but failing.

He jerked my hips backwards, changing the angle and for the next two minutes he refused to stop. His fucking became crazed, primal in nature. I was thrown by how incredible the moment was.

And by the fact I was letting go.

Yet even more than that, I did want to have the chance to experience the kink he’d introduced me to another time. Was it crazy? I didn’t know but I didn’t care.

In those few breathless moments as I studied the bright, twinkling lights of the city, I sensed he was finally close to erupting deep inside of me. When he jerked me back even more, switching the angle one more time, I fell into another sweet moment of pure ecstasy.

The feel of his cock erupting was the sweetest release.

But I knew what we’d shared was nothing more than a blip in time.

The past, the present, and the future would come back to bite us both.