Air floods my lungs, too, and I look to Callum. He gives me a knowing nod, moving in with his hands held up, showing them to Theo. Only when Theo turns his eyes on his friend does Callum claim the man from his clutches, pulling him away and shoving him along the pavement, back toward the main entrance of the hospital. I watch as Callum releases Percy’s son at the corner and straightens himself out, turning to face us. He doesn’t come back over. Just waits on the corner.
I literally collapse with relief, falling against the wall, concentrating on regulating my shaky breaths. Tiredness has abandoned me, being replaced with shock. I’m caught between utter appreciation for Theo being here to protect me, something I’ve wished for my whole life, and absolute panic, not only because he seemed so out of control, the violence in him deadly, but because there is nothing to stop Percy’s son from reporting me and my…what is Theo to me?
My thoughts frazzle as I gaze up at him, finding him looking composed and clear-eyed. Like the insanity switch has been flipped off. The madman has gone. I want to be angry. I don’t want to wish he’d been around before now. Someone to protect me. Someone to threaten death on anyone who tried to hurt me. But I’ve seen enough violence to last me a lifetime. And in Theo, violence is clearly an instinct.
Emotion is creeping its way up my throat, and I swallow to try to keep it at bay. “Are you okay?” I ask mindlessly, with a lack of anything else coming to me, my voice a little ragged and broken.
Theo shakes his head to himself, his hand sliding onto his nape and stroking. “Shit.” His voice is a little shaky. In fact, he looks shaken up, too. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He glances behind him, blowing out a long breath. “I didn’t want you to see that.”
“I didn’t want to see it, either,” I tell him, and he looks at me, trying to read me. “I don’t like violence.”
“He was going to hurt you.”
“It hurt more watching you behave like an animal.”
Theo stares at me, and I don’t look away. I remain resolute, steady, firm in my position, despite knowing he’s trying to read between the lines. All of my barriers are up, and he won’t get past them. And he must realize that, because he eventually relents, closing his eyes and looking up to the nighttime sky for a few moments before extending his hands toward me. “Please,” he begs, and I walk toward him, his plea too hard to resist. I take his hands and let him feel for a few moments, his eyes dropping to mine. “My temper…” He fades off, swallowing hard. “It gets the better of me sometimes.”
“Then don’t let it.” My tone is equal to his, soft and pleading. “I don’t want to see you like that, Theo.”
He nods, shame clear in his solemn expression. “I’m sorry.” Pulling me into his chest, he lifts me to his body, and I go with ease. Because what else will I do? Reject him? “You feel so good against me,” he whispers, pushing his face into my neck and inhaling, his bristle scratchy but comforting.
I silently agree and let him carry me back to the car, and I only release him once we arrive. Callum holds the door open for me, his lips straight as he nods sharply at me. And I wonder, how many times has he been forced to hold back his friend from doing some serious damage to anyone who might cross him? Or simply touch him? Lots, I expect.
And as Theo joins me in the back, claiming me and pulling me close, my mind starts to race. Has Callum ever been too late to stop him?
Chapter 13
We stopped briefly at my place to collect some clean clothes and my toiletries, and while I gathered my things, Theo mooched around my bedroom, sniffing out the cuffs he bought me on my nightstand and winking as he scooped them up and slipped them into his pocket. I didn’t stop him.
As Callum takes us back to Theo’s, I pay more attention to the drive this time, noting we head toward North London, our journey taking more than an hour with the rush hour traffic. By the time we pull up, it’s pitch black and Theo’s mansion is illuminated by hundreds of scattered lights around the property. The ornate lampposts lining the long driveway guide the way until we pull up through the thick carved concrete pillars.
Jefferson is the first person I see, followed by the same two big guys who were flanking the door the last time I was here. I don’t miss the ample space Jefferson gives Theo to get out of the car, nor the fact that everyone keeps a safe distance from him.
Theo reaches in and takes my hand, helping me from the car, and Jefferson smiles brightly as he waits for us to move away before he closes the door and follows a few paces behind. “Your mother called,” he informs Theo’s back. “Said she couldn’t reach you on your mobile.”
I shoot a look up at Theo, but he doesn’t entertain my curiosity. Theo’s mother? My mind is quickly rampant with mental images of women, trying to imagine what she would look like. And what is she like? Smiley and loving like my mother was? Devoted and encouraging? Did she used to stroke Theo’s back when he was a boy until he fell asleep, like my mum did? Did she make him eggs sunny-side up in perfect circles? Did she ever use her very last pound to buy him the latest issue of his favorite magazine? I smile sadly to myself, wishing her back. It was just me and Mum. We didn’t have money, but we were rich with love. She adored me, and I adored her. We were a team. The terrible twosome, she used to call us. And then that wretched illness stole her away from me too soon. I swallow and blink back the memories, fond memories that are masked by the horrid final days before she finally gave up.
“I’ll call her back later,” Theo says, coming to a stop in the center of his huge, elaborate entrance hall. The sweeping staircase holds my attention for a moment, a flashback to my first time here capturing me in a daze for a fleeting second. Once again, the woman appears with a tray in her hand, except this time there are two glasses—the familiar tumbler with amber liquid, and a glass of white wine. Theo shrugs his big shoulders out of his jacket and takes the two paces needed to close the gap between them, handing her his coat before lifting the two glasses from the metal tray. He knocks back his drink and places the empty glass down. The lady nods and backs away before turning and leaving us.
Then the sound of the front doors closing fills the space, pulling me around. I find the two men who were flanking the entrance now flanking the exit. It’s all so well rehearsed, the same routine as before.
“Izzy?” Theo’s soft calling of my name turns me back around. He holds out the glass to me. “Drink?”
I accept, taking the glass by the stem. In all honesty, I’m too tired for wine. It could finish me off and have me falling asleep here where I stand. “Thank you.” I force myself to take the tiniest of sips, not wanting to be rude.
Jefferson approaches, nodding politely to me before turning to Theo. “Can I get you anything else, sir?” he asks.
“I think I’m fine for the rest of the evening,” Theo says, coming closer to me and slipping an arm around my waist. “Tell Callum I won’t be at the Playground tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” Jefferson bows as he backs away. It’s all so old-fashioned and formal. I feel like I’m in a modern-day Downton Abbey—butlers, serving staff, and all.
“Your home is run with military precision,” I say as we take the stairs. I watch them carefully, each stripy step blending into the next. “Is your life one big controlled environment?”
“It’s best for everyone,” Theo says, simple as that, yet I’m guessing it isn’t that simple at all, and I look up at him to gauge his expression. Even when his face is blank he’s still a certain kind of prime stunning, the kind that I’m certain could never be matched, least of all topped. Right now, he’s handsome but unreadable, yet his eyes are glossy and thoughtful.
“Better for everyone, or better for you?” I ask, slowly trying to work my way closer to the core of Theo.
He drops those deep blue eyes onto my curious form, a small smile tickling his full lips. “Primarily me, yes. But it’s best all round. No mistakes can be made.”
“Mistakes?”
“For someone
who’s so tired, you’re firing questions rather sufficiently.” He raises his eyebrows at me, and I look away, a little shyly. I’m assuming by mistakes he means unexpected touches. It’s all quite strange, and if I hadn’t touched Theo myself, I would think he had some kind of rare condition that would kill him if he came into contact with another human. I shrug off his observation as we reach the galleried landing, Theo leading us to the right.
“Where are we going?” I ask, admiring all the huge gold-framed portraits as we walk.
“To my private quarters.”
Private quarters? “Sounds posh.”
“It’s peaceful and…private.”
I conclude that to mean he doesn’t need to be on his guard constantly, alert to any possible touch. “And what’s the Playground?” I’ve heard that mentioned on more than one occasion.
We reach a set of heavily carved double doors, and I stop as Theo opens one, making way for me to enter. I look up at him when I get no answer. He seems a little tense. “I’ll show you one day. Let’s get to know each other better first.”
My lips press into a straight line. “Better?”
He flicks his head in indication for me to enter, ignoring my question. “In before I strip you naked right here.”
I nod mildly, thoughtfully, as I study him, concluding quite quickly that he’s diverting me. He can have his way. For now. “Clever,” I muse with a playful pout, wandering into Theo’s private quarters, the doors opening up into a huge lounge area. Just like every other part of this mansion that I’ve seen, it’s ostentatious and indulgent—the furniture large, the walls covered in huge paintings, and the carpet thick and luxurious. An oversize marble fireplace dominates the room, the flames dancing hypnotically. But despite the extravagance of the space, I’m comfortable and warm, not intimidated. It’s exactly how I feel in Theo’s presence.
I look back to find him watching me take it all in, standing quietly by the door. He strolls lazily over to me, coming to a stop behind me, and my entire body rolls with a shiver when he reaches past me and relieves me of my wineglass and places it on a nearby table that’s decorated with a huge vase of stargazer lilies. “Let me take your coat,” he whispers in my ear, placing his hands gently on my shoulders and pulling the material away. I swallow as he drags my mac off, keeping his mouth close enough so I can hear his shallow breaths.
I begin to feel anxiety take over, not because of where I am, who I’m with, or the potential of what’s about to play out. No. None of that. Those thoughts set my blood on fire. What’s not so welcome is the knowledge that I’ve just worked a tough twelve-hour shift and I could really do with a shower. “I’ve been at work all day,” I say quietly, pushing the side of my face into his lips when he places them on my cheek. The feel of his bristle makes me hum, my eyes closing in bliss, every part of his front pushed into my back.
“Would you like a shower?” he asks, smiling against my flesh.
I feel my cheeks heat a little, embarrassed, and I nod against him, holding my hands by my sides. “Please.”
“May I?” he asks, sliding his palms down my arms to my hands and holding each one firmly.
“May you what?” I pull away and gaze at him, his chin resting on my shoulder. His hard face is so soft and lovely.
“Shower with you.”
My eyes with nothing to look at except Theo’s wet, naked body? I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself. “Will I be restrained?” I ask. Does he need a controlled environment in the shower, too? Begrudgingly, I expect so. But I’m quietly hoping.
He turns me into him, bringing my hands up to his shoulders and lifting me from my feet. I inhale, my breasts pushing into his chest with every beat of my excited heart. “For me to truly enjoy it, then yes.” He starts pacing leisurely across the room, taking us into a bedroom. His bedroom. I can sense the scale of the room, yet refuse to disconnect my gaze from his, falling deeper for the intentions shining through the blue. “I need to be relaxed.”
I feel my heart sink a little, but try not to let it show as I dip my lips slowly, giving him plenty of time to prepare for my kiss. When I see his lips part, I close that final distance, breathing in as I slip my tongue into his mouth. He hums as he entwines his with mine, a deep sound full of pleasure and calm, and my fingers flex on his shoulders, itching to move up to his head and fist his hair. Yet my instinct is keeping them where they are. But then he nods, deepening our kiss, and I read his silent message, sliding my hands up his thick neck and into his hair. I feel him tense, hear him inhale. But he doesn’t stop me. My body naturally moves closer to his, my mouth working slowly but deeply. His tongue is demanding and firm, his taste divine. It’s exclusively Theo, and it’s making me so drunk on him, his distinctive, gorgeous scent helping me along.
When he drops me to my feet, he pulls my hands away from his head, keeping our mouths working the slow, beautiful duel as he starts to unfasten the buttons of my uniform dress, his head tilting one way and then the other, pulling back here and there to peck and bite at my lips. I’m lost. So completely lost. My dress falls to the floor, and Theo’s hands go straight to my back, unclasping my bra and pulling it away from my chest. My boobs ache, calling for him to acknowledge them, and I gasp into his mouth when he cups them briefly before clamping his thumbs and fingers around my hard nipples, rolling them.
“Your shirt,” I murmur, desperate to get him naked but knowing I’m relying on him to give me what I want.
Theo registers my plea and releases my nipples, fetching my hands and placing them at the neck of his shirt. He’s going to let me? I start blindly unbuttoning before he has a chance to change his mind, but I’m careful not to touch his chest. It’s hard, but I manage, working my fingers to the bottom and dropping the tails of his shirt rather than pushing it off. I know my move is appreciated when he smiles against my mouth.
“Take it off,” he orders gently, surprising me as he breaks our kiss and rests his forehead on mine. “I’m ready.”
My hands are eager but gentle as I push his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. The rosary beads of his tattoo demand my admiration for a moment, and I tilt my head with a sigh as I look down to the praying hands on his hip. Odd, but beautiful on his body. I breathe in and tentatively reach for his face, resting my palms lightly on his jaw. He’s looking at me with the most inconceivable amount of trust. It’s a trust I’m not planning on breaking. Not ever. Our hungry breaths are meeting and mingling in the small space between our mouths, our eyes glued, my hands holding his face gently.
“Are you scared?” he asks me quietly, his voice a little shaky and rough. I know he isn’t asking me if I’m scared of him.
“Terrified,” I answer honestly, being sure never to lose his eyes. I press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Me either.” He kisses my lips and takes my hands down to his trousers, encouraging me to remove them, and I start to unfasten them while he kisses my neck. Need for him courses through me like wildfire, uncontrollable and unstoppable. “You’re all I can think of when I’m awake,” he says, flinching a little when I push his trousers and boxers down, my hand skimming the hardness of his erection. “You’re all I see in my dreams.” He steps out and slips his fingers in each side of my knickers, bending as he draws them down. I whimper as he licks his way back up my body until he’s at my mouth, kissing me with reverent eagerness. “I crave your touch, and it’s driving me wild because I can’t let you have free rein over me.” His tongue swirls around mine, and he hauls me up to his body. “I so, so want to let you have that.”
“We’ll work on it,” I say to pacify him, showing him my hands and waiting for his nod before I link them around his neck.
Collecting the cuffs, he walks us toward the shower, a huge cornered-off area with a curved sheet of glass. He presses a button on the outside wall, and the small silver control lights up. A huge square plate suspended from the ceiling
past the glass wall bursts with instant hot water, the drops splashing up the glass. He takes us in and places me on my feet, pushing me back against the oyster-shell tiles. “I’ve been desperate for this since I left you in Vegas,” he rasps, claiming my wrists and turning me away from him.
I bite my lip as I let him cuff me, feeling softness as opposed to metal. He links the two single cuffs together by the thick gold bangles, securing me before he turns me back around and pushes me into the wall.
“Okay?” he asks, stepping away as I nod. He tilts his head back, letting the water pour over his face, and takes his hands through his hair, pushing it back, his mouth dropped open. A heavy beat starts between my thighs at the magnificent vision, his throat lengthening, water raining over the tautness onto his broad chest and tumbling down his thighs. My gaze stops at his groin and the sight of his pulsing arousal, my arms twitching against the restraints. I close my eyes, frantically searching my mind for strength.
Heat meets my stomach—heat beyond the water, and I convulse with a cry, my eyes snapping open. Looking down, I see the top of his head moving as he drags his lips from one side of my tummy to the other, and back again, over and over. His tongue traces the lines of my scars, and I slam my head against the wall, my breasts aching with need. He’s here before me, worshipping me, his lips now working their way south to my most sensitive place, and I can’t grab him, squeeze him, or feel him. I start to mumble nonsensical words to the ceiling as his tongue dips past my folds, skimming my clit, and his hands land on the insides of my thighs, pushing them apart to give him better access. I pant, I squirm, I cry out. And when he latches onto my swollen nub of nerves, I scream, hearing his own sounds of pleasure as he loses himself in the gratification of feasting on my arousal.
Ragged breaths overpower the sounds of the shower raining all over us, and my climax builds with an almost tormenting slowness as Theo sucks softly, laps slowly, and bites gently. I think I might cry because of the agonizing pleasure he’s inflicting on me, and I cross the point of no return, tumbling over the edge of frustration and into the depths of ecstasy. I’m blinded by the sensations, crippled by the fulfillment, my hands naturally fighting with the restraints. “Theo,” I gasp, riding the long waves of my climax, my body rolling, my internal walls convulsing.
Gentleman Sinner Page 15
