He keeps my wrists pinned with one hand and caresses the length of my body with the other. With his lips an inch away from my ear, he whispers, “You should have come when I asked.” His hand continues to travel down my body, circling behind my waist around to the curve of my ass. “Why didn’t you?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy with what?”
“Work,” I say softly, licking my suddenly dry lips. Am I ready for this? I’m not sure.
“I don’t believe you.” His fingers dig into me from behind. “Who were you with?”
“No one,” I say, feeling as if he’s used up all the oxygen in the small space.
Moving his head so that he can look into my eyes, he lifts his sunglasses and I inhale sharply. God, I love his eyes. Large and dark, they’re framed by long black lashes. What I wouldn’t give for those lashes. His eyes could almost be described as pretty except there is a predatory quality in their depths that is purely masculine.
“You’re lying,” he says.
I shake my head.
The elevator comes to a stop, a bell dings and before I take my next breath, Alander whips me around so that I’m facing the rear of the elevator and he’s pressed against me from behind. He slides both hands up the front of my thighs, pushing up the material of my skirt.
I gasp as the doors open behind us.
“Are you wearing panties?” he asks.
I shake my head, my eyes searching the mirrored wall of the elevator, trying to see what’s happening at the door.
“Let me see.”
One hand grips my inner thigh, holding my legs apart, while the other slides higher.
I swat his hands away. “Alander, just wait.” The doors are still open and people are peering around the bodyguards and into the elevator.
“No more waiting.” He leans closer as his fingers find my bare pussy. He dips the tips into my naked warmth as he exhales into my hair.
I shut my eyes, cutting off the image of a disgruntled British tourist.
Alander has both hands at work between my legs and I have no choice but to succumb to his inquisitive touch.
“You’re wet.”
“Yes.”
Two more fingers dip inside and I shamelessly widen my stance, finding it hard to draw breath in the small space.
“You were thinking of me on the plane, yes?”
I nod.
“You can’t wait to be fucked.”
I make a growly sound at the back of my throat as his fingers slide in and out of me. Though he penetrates me, he has yet to touch my clit.
I need him to pay attention to where I’m feeling neglected.
“You can’t wait to come.” His left hand makes delicious circular movements between my swollen lips.
I’ve forgotten everything. I don’t care that I’m half-naked on an elevator with two other men. I don’t care that the door is about to open again. All I care about is where Alander’s hand is going to land next. My clit tightens in anticipation and I swivel my hips in encouragement.
But the bastard bypasses my need and moves higher up my mound, stroking my bare skin.
“I’m not going to let you come. I’m going to make you wait.”
“Please,” I murmur. Shit! I’ve only been in his presence for like ten minutes and I’m already begging. “Touch me. Please.”
He fits another finger inside from behind, stretching me. “I am touching you.”
I wouldn’t call what he’s doing touching. Plunging, thrusting, finger-fucking...yes. Touching...no.
Alander’s dark, hypnotic eyes trap me through the mirror’s reflection. How could I have forgotten the control he demands from a simple look?
The sound of disgruntled voices distracts me and I realize the door is open again and people are standing outside, demanding to get in.
“Look at me,” he barks, nudging my legs farther apart and plunging deeper than before. Then, just like that, he withdraws. His hand, his body, everything.
“I have to take care of something. Meet me at the Platinum Lounge.”
Never taking his eyes from the reflection of my gaze, the bastard steps back to the door of the elevator. “Don’t make me wait.” He turns and walks out, leaving me there with my ass half-bared.
Thank God the doors close before anyone can get on. I yank down the hem of my skirt before pressing the button for the fifth floor where the lounge is located. My hands are shaking and my knees sway as I adjust my clothes.
I had forgotten just how unpredictable Alander is. I’ve forgotten how controlling he is. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m ready for him. The longest I’ve ever spent with him was three days in Rhodes and it took my poor nipples a good week to recover from his rough play. A whole week with him? Oh God. Have I gotten in over my head?
The man is too much, and yet...that’s part of the appeal.
It’s a really difficult thing to explain.
I get off the elevator on the fifth floor and look for the nearest ladies room where I can freshen up and mentally prepare.
I thought I was prepared. I’m not.
Alander is the very definition of playboy, with a constant stream of women on his arm and in his bed. However, he needs to believe that the women who share that bed belong to him and him alone.
Chauvinist?
Yes.
Sexy?
Oh my God, yes.
Dominant?
Hell, yeah.
But, there’s a tender side to Alander that I’ve seen a few times, usually in the early morning after a long session of domineering lovemaking. Now, I’m not some naïve thing who believes the lust-induced rants of a satisfied male, promising he loves me as he asks me to stay with him. But, in those moments, I believe Alander is showing me a side to himself that few people see. Does he really mean it?
No.
Do I want to stay with him?
No.
But, it doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy one another’s company in the meantime.
I take extra time to splash some cold water on my neck. Despite his demands, I have a twisted urge to keep Alander waiting.
Twenty minutes later, I saunter through the doors of the Platinum Class Lounge where the well-coifed girl at the reception desk asks for my passport before nodding me through. I find Alander and his entourage already there. He’s sitting on a leather couch while his bodyguards blend into the shadows. There is no one else in the lounge, thank God.
Before I have a chance to join him on the couch, he stands, a glass of some kind of alcohol in his hand. I can hear him breathe, as if he’s trying to keep himself under tight control.
“Take off your blouse.” His voice is husky and harsh.
I am standing mere inches away from him, yet he makes no move to help. He watches me as I raise my hands to the front of my blouse and slowly, slowly undo the buttons. He gives the tumbler a leisurely swish and drinks, never taking his eyes off me.
Once my blouse is unbuttoned, I let the sleeves slide off my shoulders and the garment slithers to the floor behind me.
“Touch yourself,” he says after draining the glass of alcohol. He holds the empty tumbler to the side and a bodyguard materializes to take it from his hand.
The black lace bra I’m wearing is so sheer it’s practically non-existent, so when I slide my hands across my breasts and circle my tight nipples, it’s as if I’m touching skin.
“Tell me,” Alander says, watching my hands with a heavy-lidded gaze, “what is the real reason you’ve been avoiding me.”
Ah ha. The games have begun.
“You scare me,” I say softly. It’s a lie, as it’s not the reason I’ve been avoiding him. But it’s also not completely a lie. His unpredictability can be alarming.
Like now, for example. Out of the inside of his jacket pocket, he pulls an object which he unfolds. It’s a knife.
Shit.
He draws the length of the blade across his lips, as if showing me how much he is in co
ntrol and asking me to trust him. Then, to test my level of trust, he strokes it down my cheek. I shut my eyes, holding my breath.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I open my eyes, becoming lost in the black depths of his gaze. He is waiting for me. I’d forgotten how things work with Alander. He pushes the boundaries and then waits for me to catch up.
I barely nod, telling him to proceed.
He smiles and runs the flat of the blade down my neck, between my collarbones, all the way to the valley between my breasts. Barely grazing my skin, he inserts the tip of the blade beneath the band of my bra where it is stretched between my breasts and, with one quick flick, the knife slices through the lace. My bra gapes off my shoulders and I shrug it away. Folding the knife, he slips it back inside his jacket. Making sure I’m watching, he licks his fingertip with that talented tongue of his, spreading the moisture from his mouth across his full lips. Then he reaches for me, touching my nipple with his moist finger before lightly pinching. I groan and arch toward him as he gently twists.
“Ah, Tessa Savage. You are a beautiful and infuriating woman.”
Except for some soft classical music playing through the speaker system, the room is quiet and my shallow breaths sound loud to my ears. My breathing hitches when Alander’s hands slide down, around my waist to the zipper at the back of my skirt.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, looking deeply into my eyes as he slowly unzips me. Once undone, my skirt pools at my feet. I step out of the circle of material and stand there in my high heels, completely naked. He presses a finger to my lips, insistent that I take it in and suck.
“Tell me how you’re going to make it up to me.”
“By doing whatever you want,” I whisper against his thumb, shivering at the thought of what this might entail.
“Tell me who you have been with,” he demands, pulling down on my lip.
“No one,” I say, fully playing the game now. “There’s no one but you.”
“Of course not.” He pulls me close and kisses me, tasting deliciously of black liquorice. His kiss is hungry but controlled. Like him.
He pulls away and gazes at me with a satisfied smile playing about his lips. With the thumb of his left hand he wipes the corner of his mouth and I notice a flash of something in the dim light.
Frowning, I grab his hand and hold it up to my face. “Alander? What is this?”
His right arm is still around my waist, holding me close against his fully clothed body. He casually flips his left hand over to glance at the diamond encrusted band. “It’s nothing.”
Pulling away but still within the circle of his arms, I say, “It looks like a wedding band.”
Chuckling, he says, “It is. I was married last month.”
“Are you kidding me?” I pull away and stare open-mouthed at him before I stoop to gather my clothes, hurriedly pulling up my skirt before finding my useless bra on the dark floor and scrunching it in my fist.
“Tessa,” he says with a placating tone. “What are you doing?”
“You know how I feel about this, Alander. It’s my number one rule. No cheating. None.”
Where the hell is my blouse? I scrabble around on the floor looking for it. I swear it was just here.
“Looking for this?” Alander holds out my blouse and when I go to reach for it he pulls it out of my grasp.
Covering my jiggling breasts with one arm, I reach for my top with the other. “Give it to me.”
At first I don’t think he’s going to, but after an angry shake of his head he tosses the garment in my direction. “Christ, Tessa. Nothing’s changed between us. You don’t need to be so pedestrian about this.”
“I’m not being pedestrian.” I fume, struggling to get my blouse on. “I told you from the beginning, no infidelity.” I start to do up the buttons, glancing angrily in his direction. “You probably just got back from your honeymoon. That’s a bit much, even for you.”
“Honeymoon?” He runs a hand through his carefully coiffed hair, mussing it up and making him look sexy, tortured and...unavailable. “A shopping trip to Paris. That was my honeymoon. It’s not a marriage, Tessa. It’s a merger.”
“What are you talking about?” I’ve got three more buttons to go.
“I married Helena Xanthis.”
My hands still. “Xanthis?” This news is almost more unbelievable than the fact that Alander is married.
He nods and moves closer again. Taking my hand, he pulls me against him. “She is young, beautiful, spoiled and...she’s the granddaughter of fucking Talos. Believe me when I tell you our honeymoon was not idyllic.”
“So why’d you marry her?”
His jaw works back and forth as if he’s battling with himself. “I had no choice,” he spits the words out like rancid wine. “Things are not good in Greece right now, my choice was join with Xanthis or sell my holdings to the Chinese.” He turns away. “I hate Talos more than you can imagine, but I am Greek and I will do what I have to do to keep my holdings in Greece.” Turning back to me, he slips his hand around the back of my neck, drawing me closer. “I am a desperate man and I need you, Tessa. Now more than ever.”
His kiss is tender and I realize what I thought was hunger is really an undercurrent of desperation. I give in, just a little. However, a rule is a rule and this is one I will not break, no matter what.
I end the kiss with a sigh, lifting my hand to stroke Alander’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
When he moves to kiss me again, I duck my head. His grip tightens and my body goes rigid. He doesn’t let me go at first and my heart skitters behind my breastbone as I try to guess his next move. Alander is not a man who takes ‘no’ for an answer.
“Tessa, you are making me angry.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
We end up in some crazy staring match that seems to last forever. I guess he finally sees the steely resolve in me because he eventually loosens his hold. “I see.” His hands drop to his sides.
I stand there for a moment, a little wary, still watching him. “I wish things were different.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Make them different. It’s your choice.”
Going up on tiptoes, I kiss his cheek and whisper, “I wish you all the best, Alander.”
He doesn’t speak.
“Take care of yourself...and your wife.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
I walk away without answering. I doubt I’ll ever see Alander again. At the same time, I think there’s a bit of me that’s relieved. Alander excites me, thrills me, titillates me, but the man also scares the shit out of me.
The problem is, scared or not, I’ve been anticipating my holiday in Greece and this rendezvous with Alander with eagerness, knowing I would satiate some of the desires that have been accumulating inside me over the last six months of non-stop work. Now I have nowhere to go and no one to spend my holiday with. Not that being alone has ever bothered me. It’s just... being alone can be disappointing when I’ve had my heart set on spending time with someone special.
On my way out of the lounge, I have to stop at reception to pick up my passport. I’m self-conscious of the fact I’m not wearing a bra beneath my blouse and I wonder how much of my tryst with Alander the beautiful dark-haired woman witnessed. Is it my imagination, or is she taking more time with my passport than necessary?
In order to fill the awkward silence, I ask, “What’s your favorite Greek Island to visit?”
Sliding my passport across the desk, she glances up and there is a secretive smile on her lips.
Yep. She saw what happened. She saw me naked.
The smile widens. “Depends what you are looking for.”
I clear my throat. “Rest. Relaxation. Good food and wine.”
Her smile curls up higher. “For those things, I recommend Lesvos. It’s very beautiful and right now they are celebrating The International Women’s Festival.” Her
left brow arches as if to convey some hidden message, I’m not sure what.
Regardless, at the mention of Lesvos, my heart skips a beat. I’ve been there before, years ago, and I had a wonderful time. Tapping my passport against the desk, I consider her suggestion. There is a rightness to her recommendation that goes beyond reason, as if I was never meant to spend this week with Alander but should indeed return to that island of peace and tranquility.
Smiling in thanks, I turn to leave, my decision made. I know exactly how I’m going to spend the next week. And, though it might not include Alander’s company and his unique brand of lovemaking, I have a funny feeling that something unexpected is about to happen and that maybe, just maybe, this holiday will turn out better than I ever could have imagined.
Chapter Two
I catch a flight from Athens to the island of Lesvos, and the following day, I rent a car to drive from Mytilini, the capital, to the quaint seaside town of Molyvos. Memories assail me during the hour-long drive, unexpected memories of a man I’ve spent the last seven years trying to forget. I’d come to Greece a number of years ago after my failed marriage to Chase Walker. Yes, it’s true, Tessa Savage was married. Can you believe it? You heard the part where I said failed, right?
Like I said, that’s a story for another day. The point is, I took a six month sabbatical after the papers were signed, to heal, to regroup...all that shit. For the first couple of months I traveled both in Turkey and Greece, seeing some really cool places, but mostly doing the tourist thing, visiting ruins, island hopping to all the well-known spots; the white-washed villas of Santorini, Naxos, Crete, partying in Mykonos and Rhodes...
It wasn’t until I arrived on the island of Lesvos that I found any sort of peace. No. That’s not true. It’s where I managed to heal enough to go on. The person most helpful during that time was the grandmotherly Mrs. Kinellis, the owner of the Daphnis and Chloe guesthouse where I stayed for the remainder of my trip.
If there was any place that had ever felt like home, it was there, probably because Medea Kinellis and I had formed a connection—a rare one. The kind where you feel as if you’ve known the person forever. Even though her English was poor and my Greek basically non-existent, she nurtured me during my stay, taking care of my needs, giving me a motherly hug when I was feeling down, ignoring my evening exploits when I was feeling randy—which (you know me) was pretty often. I never once felt judged. She had a comforting quiet knack of knowing what I needed when I needed it and if she was too busy to provide, she’d send her young, wide-eyed grandson to help.
Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males) Page 38
