He was the only one who ever noticed me, the only one who ever paid any attention to me and, as I was used to being ignored, I found his attention absolutely intoxicating. He was the older brother I’d wished Traj had been, telling me jokes and making me laugh, helping me with my homework and being patient when I couldn’t do it, because I could never do it. Showing me the best way to climb a tree and how to kick a ball. Once, when I was ten and he was sixteen, I’d shyly showed him some drawings I’d done and he’d been so kind, telling me they looked fantastic and how I should study art.
I’d worshipped him.
And then I’d grown up and that childish hero-worship had turned into something more complicated and more adult. I’d started to notice his broad shoulders and the hard, carved muscles of his chest and stomach. His lean hips and powerful thighs. The masculine beauty of his face—high cheekbones and straight nose, chiselled jaw and sensual mouth. The sparks of gold and green in his hazel eyes. His shaggy, surfer-blond hair...
And then the day of my party, when he’d smiled at me and given me the little star necklace, I’d fallen head over heels in love with him.
He’d been destined for the top, for greatness, so it had come as a huge shock when, not too long after that, he’d been benched for an entire season and lost his chance with the NFL scouts. Then he disappeared, leaving rumours about where he’d gone and why swirling in his wake.
I’d tried to find out what had happened to him, but no one seemed to know. Traj had said not to worry about him, that he was ‘taking some time out.’
When he’d reappeared again, some eighteen months later, I’d tried to get in contact with him. He’d answered the first couple of attempts—an email saying he was okay—but that was it. Then he’d gone dark and wouldn’t answer any of my further timid attempts to reconnect.
It was as if I’d ceased to exist.
I still never took that necklace off. Even when I wished that I could.
Maybe tonight, though, I would.
Except then he said, ‘You need to leave. Pick up your things and go.’
His voice was rough, harsh and very deep, the sound of it scraping over my nerve-endings and sending weird chills through me. It was familiar too, but I couldn’t place it.
Shit, he sounded mad. He’d worked out I wasn’t the real deal, hadn’t he?
‘Seriously?’ I tried to remain calm, though my heart was beating even faster. ‘Why? Did I do something wrong?’
‘Of course you did something wrong. I don’t know how you got in here, or why, but I do know that you don’t work for Company of Strangers.’
Busted.
I gritted my teeth. I had to be careful here, because if I wasn’t and said the wrong thing not only would I be out on my ear, but Maggie would lose her job, and I did not want that to happen.
Playing nice had never been my favourite choice, and being good only got you ignored, but even I could sense that taking a confrontational approach would be a bad move. Brazening it out and lying through my teeth would also be dumb, especially when he could check my credentials with a quick glance at the Strangers website.
No, it would have to be the truth. Maybe if I looked pathetic enough that would endear me to him...
‘So, you got me,’ I said, making a decision before I could think better of it. ‘It’s true. I don’t work for them. But it wasn’t Maggie’s fault, so please don’t report her, okay? It was my idea. She was very sick and couldn’t get a replacement in time and, since I’m a friend of hers, I told her I’d do it for her.’ I tried a smile. ‘I know I’m not her, but I could be if you’d let me.’
There was a very long silence.
I couldn’t hear him, not even his breathing. He didn’t make a single damn sound.
‘You know this isn’t like covering a waitressing shift, right?’ The rawness of his voice was a shock. ‘Or stepping behind the counter in a store. This is about sex. About getting naked and fucking a total stranger. You get that, don’t you?’
I didn’t want to blush, but I couldn’t stop the tide of heat that washed through me, my face burning in embarrassment.
Patronising asshole. Of course I knew those things. I wasn’t stupid, and I loathed being made to feel as if I was, because that was what every damn person in my life, with the exception of Eli Hart, had made me feel.
Stupid and dumb and backward, because I had difficulty reading and found writing hard.
God, this guy wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to tell me what to do, get me off and that would be it. Who knew he’d be so fussy?
Anger glowed inside me, but I couldn’t really blame him, even though I wanted to. It was anger at myself and my own failings, because if this little plan failed it was on me. I hadn’t done the research I should have and I certainly hadn’t thought things through properly.
I’d just been desperate and had snatched at the opportunity Maggie had presented without considering the consequences. But getting angry about it wouldn’t help me with my little fantasy and, hell, I was here now. Walking out would be stupid. I just needed to convince him to hire me for the night.
‘Yes,’ I said, struggling not to let a sharp edge creep into my tone. ‘Believe it or not, I do get that.’
‘Then you’ll also know that Strangers’ employees are all vetted, as are their clients, for the safety of all parties involved. All parties are also required to sign NDAs, again for the safety of all involved.’ He said everything flatly, as if he was reading from a manual or a rule book. ‘Clients sign an agreement that a meeting can be ended at any time, by either party, though payment is always required whether a meeting is ended early or not. This agreement also extends to a clause stating that any force or coercion, again by either party, will be met with legal action.’
My mouth dried. Oh, shit, was this the contract stuff that Maggie had mentioned, that I hadn’t listened to?
‘You have signed no agreements,’ he went on in that strange, harsh voice. ‘You are bound by no rules. And that means you’re putting both of us at risk. Do you understand?’
The blush in my cheeks burned hotter, as did the anger inside me.
Way to live up to everyone’s expectations. You’re really blowing his mind.
I gripped my hands together tightly in my lap, trying to think this through, because self-recriminations would do me sweet FA.
‘It’s not a problem.’ I tried to sound as confident as he did. ‘I can sign—’
‘No, you can’t. All the agreements drawn up by Company of Strangers have been looked over and approved by lawyers. They are legal and binding, and if you think I’m going to write something down on a shitty piece of hotel notepaper for you to sign then you’re sadly mistaken.’
There was another silence and then he went on, ‘I could be anyone. I could be someone who doesn’t care you’re not affiliated with the company. Someone who might take this opportunity to hurt you and you’d have no back-up to call on.’
Very interested in my safety, wasn’t he?
‘I’d think of something.’ I stared in his direction, suddenly struck by the fact that he hadn’t moved. If he didn’t like this, why hadn’t he simply walked out?
Why are you thinking about him at all? He’s not supposed to matter.
Well, if I didn’t think of him, nothing else would matter, and I didn’t want that to happen.
I opened my mouth to speak, but apparently he hadn’t finished.
‘And what about my safety?’ he went on. ‘You haven’t signed an NDA. You and I could have a pleasant evening and then you could leave and report me to the police. Or go online and put every second of our encounter on the Internet for everyone to see. You might even blackmail me.’
Okay, so I hadn’t thought about it from his point of view, but blackmail?
‘Seriously, dude? Why would I do that?�
��
‘You’d be surprised at what people do for money.’
‘What?’ I snapped before I could stop myself. ‘Like turn up as a surprise escort to fill in for their friend?’
There was a pause.
‘This is about the money for you?’ he asked.
It wasn’t, or at least not wholly. But that was part of it. I wanted to set up another tattoo parlour in LA, and to do that I needed some capital, of which I didn’t have much. A night with him would help, especially with his apparently very generous tips. He didn’t need to know about the fantasy part.
‘Of course it’s about the money for me. I’m not in the habit of setting myself up to screw complete strangers just for fun.’
Another silence.
Ugh, I’d said too much, hadn’t I? I was letting my anger get the better of me and was alienating him. Maggie would have known how to handle him. Maggie always knew how to handle people.
‘Okay, confession time,’ I said before he could get another word in. ‘Yes, I need the money. Specifically, the tips. I...have a business I want to get off the ground and I can’t do that without some capital.’ I didn’t want to give too much away, such as how much the business meant to me and how desperately I wanted it to work. But I figured a little more truth wouldn’t hurt. ‘So, if you didn’t send me away, if you kind of...just pretended I was a Strangers employee, I’d appreciate that.’
‘Pretended?’ Disdain dripped from each syllable.
I couldn’t blame him. It was a lame suggestion, but it was the only one I had, so I ignored him. ‘Maggie really couldn’t get anyone to fill in and she didn’t want to leave you in the lurch. I’m her friend and I offered to do it for her. She didn’t want me to, but I talked her into it. So, if you’re going to blame anyone, blame me.’ I took a little breath. ‘And please don’t call the company. They’ll fire her.’
I didn’t want that. Maggie was a good friend and this wasn’t her fault. I’d been the one to talk her into it, to convince her that I wouldn’t get caught. I just hadn’t realised this asshole would be so quick on the uptake.
You’re going to have to fix this.
My muscles had gone very tight, tension coiling through me. I had no idea how I was going to fix it but, yes, I would. I couldn’t let my friend get fired because of me.
‘Not my problem,’ he said.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
‘I’ll do whatever you want,’ I rushed on. ‘Anything. Everything. I have no hard limits. And hey, I’m wearing a blindfold, so I don’t even know who you are, which makes blackmail a little difficult. Ditto the police. I just want some good tips for my business and I’m prepared to work really hard for them.’
He said nothing.
Clearly it was my turn to demand answers.
‘Well?’ I asked. ‘Does that change your mind?’
‘No.’
That voice. It was sexy.
I stared at the blackness in front of my eyes, trying to sense him through it. ‘Then why are you still here?’
CHAPTER FOUR
Elias
GOOD FUCKING POINT. Why was I still here? Because I should have walked out the moment I’d recognised her.
Yet I hadn’t.
I’d wanted to know exactly what the fuck she thought she was doing, turning up here as a glorified escort, without all the necessary rules and regulations that made the interaction as safe as it was possible to get for both parties. Why she was fully prepared to get naked in front of a stranger and do everything he told her just for some spare cash.
Little idiot.
I’d nearly given myself away, asking her all those questions, but shit, she had to understand what stupid risks she was taking. I could have been anyone, some creepy asshole who got off on pain or fear. Or some bastard who liked humiliation.
Christ, she’d said she’d do anything, no limits. Did she even know what that meant?
I was very tempted to tell her exactly who she was talking to, as it was clear she hadn’t recognised my voice, but that would lead to some very awkward questions—including why I’d barely answered all the emails, texts and voicemails I’d received from her over the past few years. Not to mention why I’d cut her from my life the way I’d cut everyone all those years ago—except Traj.
And I did not want to talk to her about that.
I never wanted to talk to anyone about that.
Besides, Traj would have fifty fucking fits if he knew she was here. He used Strangers too, so thank God she hadn’t turned up as a replacement for one of his encounters, because that would have been awkward.
God, it was awkward now. What the hell was I supposed to do with her?
That’s not the right question. The right question is, why haven’t you walked away?
I could have. I should have. I should have walked out without a word and left her sitting here. She would still have been paid, no harm, no foul.
No tip, though. That was for women who stayed. And, if she’d heard about the tips, then she’d probably heard about the other aspect of my reputation, the part where every woman who spent the night with me got off, and got off hard.
Did she know about that? Had she heard?
Why are you even thinking about that? She’s little Vee. The kid sister you never had. The only person other than Traj who ever just liked you for you and not for what you could do for her.
Yeah, shit, it was true.
Bright little Vee. Who’d hero-worshipped me, who had no idea what had happened to me, because the only person who did was Traj. I’d kept the fire and its aftermath from everyone else, wanting to put the life I’d had behind me for good, never to think of it again.
I was different now. A different man, with a different life, and it was only these nights once a week where I reconnected with my old self.
Not that I wanted to be him again. He’d been an idiot, a fucking fool who’d let other people define who he was, while I didn’t let anyone define me.
I defined myself.
And, right here in this room, I could be whoever the fuck I wanted.
Not if she finds out who you are, you won’t be. You’ll be him again. Her hero...
My jaw ached as I stared at her, the thought winding through my brain.
She’d always been a bright spot in my previous life. Her parents had no time for her, and Traj was too busy trying to make his old man proud, so she’d been forgotten. It hadn’t taken much to make her happy. A smile and a bit of conversation and she’d glowed like a lightbulb being switched on. I’d liked making her glow, because it’d seemed everyone else in my goddamn life required me to do so much more...
Shit, no, I didn’t want to think of that.
I wanted to end this, and quickly, before either of us discovered the truth.
‘I’m still here, because I want you to promise that you won’t pull this stunt with anyone else,’ I said, because it was probably something Vee would do.
She’d always been stubborn that way.
‘What are you, my brother?’ She was derisive. ‘What do you care what I do?’
Since when had she become so snarky and sharp? She’d been a shy, sensitive kid, empathetic too, always wearing her heart on her sleeve. I hadn’t seen a lot of her after I’d got a football scholarship to Stanford, but the times I’d visited with Traj she’d seemed the same as she always was.
Not quite the same. She had a crush on you, remember?
Oh, yeah, I remembered that. Around sixteen, she’d got all shy, blushing furiously whenever I talked to her. I’d found it cute and, because she was so much younger, she’d been like a sister to me.
She’s not a kid now. And you’re definitely not her brother.
I didn’t know where that thought came from and I didn’t want it. But it sat there in my brain, glowing like a neon s
ign, and I found my gaze dropping to where the star necklace glittered at her throat and her pulse beat fast. Then further down, to the inked stars and petals on her body that disappeared under her dress. The silky fabric had pulled tight over the curve of her right breast, outlining the shape. Small, round and perfect, a hard nipple pressing against the fabric...
Electricity rippled down my spine, my suit pants suddenly feeling a little tight.
Ah, fuck.
I cleared my throat, ignoring the feeling. ‘I care because you’re a young woman who hasn’t thought through the consequence of her actions, and who’s put herself at risk, not to mention her friend’s job.’ I didn’t bother to sugar-coat it. ‘And if you do it again with someone else, someone who doesn’t care either about you or your friend, things might go very differently. So, if I were you, I’d take the money you’ll get for the night and leave.’
Her head cocked slightly, the light from the spotlight above her glossing her black hair and making the blue tips of it glow. The colour was almost an exact match with her silky-looking dress.
‘No,’ she said.
‘What do you mean, no?’
‘You heard me.’ Her pointed chin lifted at a stubborn angle. ‘I’m not leaving.’
I remembered that chin. I remembered that stubbornness too. She had dyslexia, which her father had refused to acknowledge, and she’d subsequently tried to overcome it with the sheer force of her will. She used to sit at her desk in her bedroom upstairs, her jaw set, tears running down her face as she’d painstakingly forced herself to write out a report. It had taken her hours, even with my help, and it used to break my heart. I’d tried on and off to convince her father to get her some help, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Yet she’d never given up. She’d pushed and pushed and pushed.
Seemed as if she was still pushing.
Once, I’d had patience to deal with that, but I didn’t now. That had vanished along with my ability to throw a ball or run or basically do anything that I’d once found so easy.
In the Dark--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 3
