by E. M. Gayle
Starting with the half dozen rings that ran along the headboard and the metal cuffs that ran between each one...
What the fuck?
Chapter Six
VINCENT
From my position in the master closet, I spied Zia from the moment she entered the room. Her gaze had fixated on the bed and her jaw gone slack at the "extras" that were added into this suite.
It wasn't the largest that the hotel offered, but it was certainly one of a kind nonetheless and my favorite amenity of The Sinclair by far.
I brushed that thought aside to focus on the woman standing in what essentially was my bedroom. Next to a bed designed for sex in a way that I knew we would both love. Me in charge and her acquiescing to every one of my many demands.
My body tightened just thinking about her beautiful body chained and bared to me. Our time together before had barely scratched the surface of what I wanted to experience with her and the vision of her naked on this bed threatened to mess with my head. Not that I didn't appreciate the view right in front of me now, because I did.
The blood red dress she'd chosen for the party hugged every delicious curve, from the full hips I loved to grab when I thrusted into her from behind to the voluptuous tits that looked like they wanted to spill from the top of her dress so I could wrap my tongue around each dusky nipple.
I groaned as my cock pushed tight against the pants I still hadn't fully fastened. She'd arrived early as expected, but I hadn't planned on her showing up in here.
Depending on how you wanted to look at it, the timing of her arrival was either the worst in the world or incredibly perfect. Although despite the need coursing through me as I stood watching her, I knew getting her into that bed wouldn't be this easy. Just like she hadn't agreed to meet me for that drink and I'd stood there like a chump nursing a cocktail while I waited.
Still... When opportunity tossed me a bone this juicy, I couldn't resist throwing her off guard again. I smiled and stepped forward into the doorway.
"If that bed wasn't so damned perfectly functional, I'd be tempted to call it art."
She gasped and jumped at the dark timbre of my voice that had come out much rougher than I'd intended. But I was fucking hungry and the woman in front of me was the only thing that would satisfy said hunger.
Enough was enough.
"Vincent," she cried. "What are you doing here?" She took several steps back towards the doorway, wobbling slightly on her heels. "And why aren't you wearing clothes?"
I tried not to laugh at her reaction, but the grumbling sound escaped anyway. "I've got pants on."
Her gaze finally wandered from where it had been locked onto my bare chest and down to my pants. I swear I felt that slow perusal as intimately as if she'd touched me with her hands and I didn't want it to stop.
Until her face twisted into an unlikely mixture of what looked like anger and possibly pain.
What the hell?
"Oh God. You were..." She took a step back. "You're with someone else." She nearly choked on that last word, an action I shamelessly took great satisfaction in. For a split second it crossed my mind to let her believe that might be true. Jealousy had a way of bringing other emotions to the forefront as well and I was willing to work with whatever I could get. The end result always justified the means.
However, in this delicate of a situation, one of perceived broken trust, I decided that would not be the right approach to take with her.
"No, beautiful. I am not. That has not been the case at all since I met you."
She still looked horrified. "Then why—"
"Because you walked in on me getting dressed for the party."
For a moment she looked confused, but that expression cleared a moment later and she again took steps away from me.
"This is your suite."
It didn't sound like a question so I didn't bother to answer. I did, however, take steps in her direction. I didn't like that she wanted to put extra space between us when I'd do anything to bring us closer. It went directly against my plan and it needed to stop.
"This is your—your party," she whispered.
"Yes," I nodded. Demanding The Sinclair management that their new resident chef had to cater this party had been an easy task and I wouldn't back down from that.
"That's why I'm here. You set me up. Again." Her back stiffened and that fire she barely kept banked inside her came to life. "How dare you?"
Another chuckle bubbled in my chest. I'd known she would be riled, but I liked riled. "I dared because I know how good you are at your job. And there are important guests here tonight that need to be impressed. And I wanted to see you again." I wasn't going to lie if that's what she thought. She might not like everything I had to say, but every word would be the truth.
She was shaking her head and I half expected her to start stomping her high heeled shoes at any second. Sexy as fuck shoes I noted by the way. Those would look especially incredible when she bent over later and I fucked her from behind.
Again.
This train of thought wasn't going to be conducive to having a reasonable conversation with Zia if I couldn't get my dick under control. She'd already noticed my pants undone and with my cock straining to get free this conversation was going to go in the wrong direction if we both weren't careful.
"This isn't right," she stated flatly. "You're not right. Haven't you interfered enough in my life? What is wrong with you?"
That pithy question pulled me free from my erotic thoughts as effectively as if she'd thrown ice water in my face. Anger surged between us as the days since we'd last been together disappeared and the memory of her anger then filled my head. I was done taking the blame for those pictures. Instead we were going to do something about it.
"If you are once again implying that I had anything to do with those pictures of us in Italy, you need to get something straight. For the last time I had NO prior knowledge about any cameras in my villa. Nor were they set up by anyone else at my request. Is it ultimately my responsibility that it happened? Yes. Did I intentionally allow it to happen? Fuck NO." I took several steps closer to her until my bare chest was only inches away from her beautiful tits. "We need to get this straight right now, Zia. That never should have happened."
"Then why are you ultimately responsible if you didn't orchestrate it?"
I took a deep breath and watched the pulse beat erratically against her throat. She would never admit that having me this close again reminded her of a lot more than those pictures.
"Because you were in my home, entrusting me with your safety. Offering your submission. Something I don't take lightly under the circumstances. Under any circumstances," I repeated, my mouth nearly at her ear. Tension radiated from her and it took an exorbitant amount of control not to scrap my teeth along her neck. The idea of her melting under my touch almost too much to bear.
"I have a hard time believing you," she breathed, her words choppy with arousal.
"No one can make you do or believe anything you don't want to. Not even me. But what we shared in Italy is without question far more important than a silly game of photography. Do you honestly think I need a picture to remember what you looked like on your knees in front of me?"
She started to respond and I covered her mouth with my hand to stop her. "No. Don't say something we'll both regret later and I'll be forced to punish you for. I had absolutely nothing to do with those pictures, but I am willing to take the responsibility for them. However," I paused, taking a moment to lower my voice. "It's time to forget about them and put them in the past. Today they no longer matter."
She wrenched free from my hand and stared daggers at me. "Punish me?! How dare you. I knew you had an ego, but holy shit this is ridiculous. You seriously expect me to forget everything that happened and fall down on my knees and beg for your dick, don't you?"
When I said nothing right away, the heat of Zia intensified.
"You fucking asshole! I suppose you had nothing to do with
the blackmail either then," she said acidly, every syllable a burn into my soul. "God, I hate you. It's fucking evil what you helped him do. Hell will freeze over before I forgive you."
I reared back as if slapped. "What?" I roared, a sudden burst of anger exploding through my veins. "You were blackmailed? Over those pictures?"
She rolled her eyes as some of the tight rigidity of her muscles began to melt a moment before a sardonic snarl pulled at her lips. "Don't. Just don't. I can't handle playing games with you. Not tonight. Not ever." Her chest rose and fell several times as she tried to calm her breathing. "I'm trying to get past this. I need to forget and get on with my life. Without you in it."
I paused a moment to take a deep breath and give us both a moment to settle. I could see that if I didn't change tactics I would lose this battle as well. And while I had every intention of winning the war, it didn't mean I wanted to take a beating at every encounter. Arguing could be fun under the right circumstances. These were not it.
Fuck.
The idea that someone had blackmailed her. There would be hell to pay for this. And then some. I was going to bury the fucker responsible.
First, though, I needed to hear all of the details. Learn what I could from what she knew before I set a new plan in motion that may or may not include bloodying my hands again.
"I need you to tell me what's been going on, Zia. Right now," I gritted through clenched teeth. I don't know if it was the tone of my voice or she saw something on my face I didn't even realize was there, but her eyes widened and she took another step back.
I reached for her arm and pulled her back. "Don't." It was my turn to insist. I needed her close or I was going to lose control and well, no one would like the results of that. "Tell me," I demanded.
She looked down at the spot where my hand gripped her above the elbow and I acquiesced to her silent demand by loosening my hold without letting her go.
"You want me to believe that you don't know what I'm talking about, but I don't. I don't trust you, Vincent nor do I wish to stay here in your presence. I'm going to the kitchen to finish this farce of a party because my job here probably depends on it. Thanks for that by the way. Then I am going to expect you to respect my wish to be left alone. We don't have to see each other again because we have no reason to. You steer clear of me and I'll do the same. Once the restaurant opens I'll be back in New York and we can forget all about this."
The last she whispered between clenched teeth, ensuring I understood she meant every word. However, that didn't mean I accepted it. Hell, any of this. She still had a lot of explaining to do and neither of us were going anywhere until I knew everything.
Although I was starting to get the picture. Ironically enough. Our encounter had not ended back in Italy like I'd thought. Nor had my assumption that those pictures were meant to hurt me somehow been correct. Whoever had sent those pictures were somehow using them against her. But why?
My mind fired question after question at me and without an answer to any of them. I was going to go insane.
"Let go!" She bared her tiny teeth and I finally got the stomp of her foot I'd been expecting, except I hadn't predicted that lethal heel would land dead center on my bare foot.
"Shit," I grunted, letting her go the moment the pain radiated up my leg. "That was not nice."
She smirked, lifting a shoulder at the same time. "Neither was you grabbing me without consent."
I wanted to laugh. Probably would have if my foot didn't hurt so damned bad. Little spitfire had even more spirit than I remembered. Now if only I could get her to use it with me and not against me.
"You still haven't told me what's been going on," I half grunted. "You should know I'm not letting you go until I get some answers."
Her hands went to her hips a moment before she cocked her brow at me. Any other time I would have taken a moment to appreciate it, but the anger had returned with a vengeance and I needed some fucking information.
I was on the verge of an explosion.
"Details, Zia. Stop throwing shade at me and get to fucking telling me what I need to know." I stopped, hesitating for a moment before I said the rest. "Unless you want me to persuade you in some other way. Is that what this is about? You are in my bedroom. A bedroom that is fully equipped with everything I need to ensure you answer me one way or another."
"Your arrogance astounds me. I didn't even know this was a bedroom when I walked in. Let alone yours. So stop pretending you don't know that my slimy ex-husband blackmailed me and took everything I had!"
Her hand flew to cover her mouth, but it was too late. Whether she planned to reveal it or not she had. I now had the ammunition I sought and the fucking gun to take care of it.
"Dante blackmailed you? Seriously? I'm shocked. Who would have thought that little pedestrian shit had the balls for something like that. And what do you mean by he took everything? What exactly did he take?" That anger I'd fought earlier was building into a dangerous rage. If I didn't get answers soon...
Her resulting shrug didn't help.
"I'm warning you," I seethed as the common sense and control I prided myself on left the building.
"You're warning me?" She leaned into my face and the sweet scent of her skin mingled dangerously with the rage flooding my mind. The anger that someone would hurt what I considered mine was almost too much to bear.
"Yeah," I growled. "I am. And unless you want to end up flat on your back and cuffed to that bed post I suggest you tell me what I need to know."
Her nostrils flared and her eyes widened in the beat of a few seconds before she spun on her heels and headed in the direction of the door.
I didn't take a moment to breathe or think through my next move. Instead I simply acted on impulse. Or instinct. I lunged for her and grabbed at her arm with my beefy hand in a grip I knew to be too tight and jerked her back against me. She stumbled as she tilted in my direction, but I was there to catch her and pull her against my chest.
Blood rushed in my ears as the frightened jack rabbit look appeared in her eyes. That sudden flare of fear sent a zing of excitement coursing through every inch of my body. My adrenalin spiked much like it did in a fight.
"You're not going anywhere until I let you."
I no longer cared how depraved or violent my graveled tone had turned. She was now my prey and I was now her hunter.
Chapter Seven
ZIA
Every muscle in my body seized at the dark chill in Vincent's voice. Something about the way he'd said I couldn't leave made my heart beat harder and my brain unable to function. What the hell was going on?
I wanted to fight. I know I did. Instead I didn't move. I lay there face down on his bare chest with the heat emanating from his skin to mine and the seductive scent of cedar wood and something else I couldn't identify seeped into my pores.
"I need to get out of here," I whimpered as I stood there not moving. "Please." The wound of Vincent's betrayal was again ripped open and it burned through my blood with the intensity of a thousand suns determined to destroy me.
"No. You cannot. Letting you go in Italy was a mistake. One I won't make again."
I could feel the burn of tears threatening at the edges of my eyes and I tried to focus on fighting those instead of his words. I would not cry for him. Not again. Not ever again.
"It doesn't matter what you say or do, this isn't going to happen." The second the words slipped from my mouth I immediately regretted them. I didn't need to see his face to gauge his reaction. I felt it in the tightening of his body and the sudden intake of his breath.
He'd just taken my statement as a challenge and I'd walked right into it.
"I didn't mean—" I pushed against his chest to put some space between us, but he held steady not allowing me to budge.
"It's too late."
The graveled sound of his voice was the only warning I got before he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the edge of the bed. I barely registered what he was doi
ng before the cold metal of his cuffs snapped against my wrist with a click.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Somehow I'd found the words to object, but the breathy sound of them as my heart beat out of control hardly made them convincing.
"What I should have done in the first place."
He fished his cellphone out of his pocket and punched a couple of the buttons before pressing the device against his ear.
"Henry, bring the car around to the private elevator. I'm coming down now."
I sat there frozen in shock as he moved across the room and back into the closet he'd originally emerged from. He was going to leave? In the middle of the party? With me cuffed to his bed?
"Vincent, what are you doing?" I finally found my voice even if it was edged in a modicum of the panic going on inside me.
"I already told you." He emerged from the closet and to my shame I nearly swallowed my tongue at his appearance. He'd finished dressing in an all-black suit with a dress shirt that matched. But it was the tailored fit that seemed to highlight and outline every muscle of his body that kept me entranced. And he had a lot of muscles to look at.
He'd been similarly dressed the night we'd met. My visceral reaction had been much the same then too. Big, tall and strong he exuded a kind of power that I rarely encountered around other men. That aura had weakened my knees the first time and I had a feeling if I'd been standing now, I'd feel exactly the same way.
While I was lost in my memories and the weakness of my reaction to this man, he'd managed to unclip my handcuffs from his bed and reattach them to a short lead he kept tightly gripped in his hand. The sight of which finally jolted me out of my stupor.
"Seriously? Have you lost your mind or something? Undo these things right now."
To say the leer he aimed at me unnerved me would be a massive understatement. That look had so many possible connotations I didn't even know where to start. I also had to admit that the shiver working its way down my spine might have been laced with fear.
