by Geneva Lee
It wasn’t until the butler pressed the button for the twentieth floor that the pieces started to form a sickening picture. As the floor numbers lit up in swift succession, carrying me toward the top of the Plaza, my stomach dropped out. Suspicion turned into nauseating certainty as the lift doors slid open to my floor.
“I’m at your service during your stay,” Geoffrey reminded me as he swept a key card over the lock. I mumbled something unintelligible in response. “Pardon?”
But Geoffrey wasn’t getting clarification today. As I stepped into the suite, my eyes landed on the room’s other occupant—the last person I wanted to see.
And the person I wanted to see more than anyone in the world.
Smith towered before me, a brutal pillar of masculinity, mercilessly clothed in a perfectly tailored suit. His strong jaw tensed slightly as our gazes met, his green irises flashing with possessiveness as he took me in. I knew the secrets he shielded behind those eyes as well as I knew the perfectly hewn body hidden under his clothes. His hands curled into fists as though he was trying to keep himself away from me. That desire was entirely mutual.
“Mr. Price,” Geoffrey greeted him as he stepped in behind me. “Should I deliver these to the master bedroom or the guest room?”
Smith’s face went blank as if Geoffrey had begun to speak in a foreign language. The message was obvious. A man like Smith Price didn’t invite blondes to his suite to sleep in the guest room. The composed butler shifted uncomfortably on his heels.
“Leave them by the door,” Smith instructed, holding out a wad of bills. “I’ll see to Miss Stuart from here.”
The words had an unwanted effect on me. My mouth went dry, my heart speeding up to a frenzy as I felt the magnetic tug of Smith’s presence. It took every ounce of restraint I had to stay put and wait for the door to close behind me.
“I hope these accommodations are to your standards,” Smith said stiffly.
So we were down to small talk. Of course we were. He’d gotten me into a hotel room in a strange city under false pretenses. I imagined he’d be bringing up the weather next. Anything to avoid the fact that he’d damn near kidnapped me. Or that he’d avoided me the last time we saw each other. Or that the last time we’d spoken it had been after watching him take a cane to Georgia Kincaid.
“My best friend lives in a palace. You’re going to have to try harder to impress me,” I snapped back.
“New city. Same attitude,” he said dryly.
“Don’t start with me,” I warned him. “Answers now.”
“I rearranged my travel to coincide with yours.” He spoke as if this answered any of the questions I might have.
“Let’s see. That doesn’t tell me how you knew I would be in New York or how you hijacked me at the airport. Or most importantly, why you’d even bother?” I bit out. “We’re over, remember? Or are you having a bout of amnesia? You’re not my controlling, overprotective boyfriend anymore. You decided you’d rather play with another toy.”
It hurt to say that out loud. I’d been avoiding the reality of my situation since I’d left him at Velvet, saying only what I needed to silence the people in my life smart enough to guess things hadn’t ended with Smith when he’d fired me from my job as his personal assistant.
“I never stopped being controlling or overprotective.” He took a step closer. “Or your boyfriend.”
“Then we’re definitely interpreting the events of the last time we spoke to each other differently.” I backed up, eager to maintain a safe distance from him. “Or is this just part of your game?”
“You’re not a pawn to me, beautiful, but yes, this is part of a game.”
“Then let me be clear: I’m not playing.” If I moved quickly, I could grab my bags, but there was no way I’d make it into the lift before he reached me.
“I don’t want you to.”
“Then walk away again,” I dared him. “Or better yet, let me leave now. You had no problem pushing me away before.”
“There are people who want to hurt you, Belle, and as hard as it is for me to stay away from you, I will walk away before that happens.”
“How can you say that?” I demanded. “What kind of life do you think I’ll have without you in it?”
The thought was nearly too much to bear. I’d gotten through the last week through compartmentalizing. I’d tucked Smith and the memories we’d shared into boxes and tried to ignore their existence. But deep down, I knew the only reason I’d been able to do so was because I hadn’t believed things were truly over. Now that I was forced to face the fact that they might be, I could barely breathe. I couldn’t process what he had done to me or why, but deep down I’d suspected there was a reason for his actions.
A low rumble emanated from his chest at being challenged. Smith’s hand shot out and clutched my upper arm, his nails digging into the tender skin as he shook me. “I don’t give a damn about that. All that matters is that you’re breathing. That I know no matter where we are and how much distance separates us that air is passing through those beautiful lips.” He dropped his hold on me and took a step back, turning to face the window that looked out over Central Park. “You’re strong, Belle. You are going to create a global empire. Someday you’ll forget all about me.”
“Is this why you brought me here?” I whispered, my voice brittle with the emotions building in me. “To break my heart again? Because I have news for you, there’s nothing left to break. It’s shattered—dust. Nothing will ever fix it.”
Smith’s eyes closed as he shook his head. His hand dropped to his side, breaking the electric connection sizzling between us. “I never wanted this for you. I tried to stay away.”
“And you came for me anyway. Or am I just a line item to check off? Was it easier to export me across the Atlantic to do this?” It was a good thing we were in a suite the size of a house because I’d gone from whispering to screaming. The questions scratched my throat as I flung the accusations at him. The pain felt good—real—unlike the surreal nightmare that had trapped me.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” he admitted, “or why I’m here. When I found out you were coming—”
“How did you find that out?” I interjected, crossing my arms as if they could afford me some amount of protection from what was happening.
“I have my sources.”
The calmness of his answer made me want to chuck a lamp at him. “Sources? You mean secrets.”
“Yes!” He rounded on me, stepping so close that the heat of his breath brushed over my face. One more inch and there would be no space left between us. “My secrets protect you. This is killing me. It would be easier to put a gun to my own head than walk away, but who will be there to protect you then?”
“I can protect myself,” I said in a measured tone, forcing myself to ignore his closeness, even as a tight ache spread over my skin. One touch. I needed it. I needed one split second of contact to remember as I faced a lifetime of denial.
Which was why I kept myself frozen in place. Giving in wouldn’t sate me. It would only make it harder.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Smith’s head fell back as he drew a ragged breath. “Why did I fall in love with you?”
The world skidded to a stop, time slowing to a standstill as his words sunk in. I was still processing when he caught my waist and pulled me violently against him. His lips took even as they gave, reminding me that I belonged to him as he surrendered. All conscious thought fled me as I tangled my fingers in his hair and held him to me. The fear vanished, but the anger remained and I bit into his lip until I tasted blood. Smith groaned, sweeping me off his feet as he smashed his mouth harder to mine and carried me toward the stairs. I had no idea where they led and I didn’t care so long as I didn’t have to let him go. I drew back, panting, when we reached the top step.
“You’re mine,” I breathed.
His eyebrows ratcheted up at my possessiveness, but a smile carved across his chiseled face. “In perpetu
ity.”
“That sounds binding,” I murmured, a giddy wave of hopeful fear overwhelming me. A moment ago, he’d tried to say goodbye to me. Now I was in his arms. I had no idea what came next.
“As your lawyer, I can assure you there is no escape clause.” He pressed his forehead against me. “I can’t stay away from you.”
“Then don’t,” I suggested gently.
“I will protect you. You’ve given me your body, and I’ll protect it with my own,” he vowed.
“And what about my heart?” I placed a hand on his firm chest. “You carry it with you. Protect it?”
“With every breath I have left on this earth.”
I wiggled from his grasp, landing lightly on the balls of my feet as he steadied me. Smoothing his necktie down, I inhaled deeply and released the fear and anger lingering in my core. My fingers closed over the silk, and I tugged gently on it as I led him through the door into a massive bedroom. Smith watched as I reached behind me and drew the zipper of my dress down, allowing the garment to flutter to the floor. I stood before him in my lacy garter and stockings. His jaw tightened as he loosened his tie, sending a pang of anticipation rolling across my exposed skin. My nipples hardened into points, struggling against the lace holding them captive. Smith tossed the tie to the floor and adjusted his erection as his face darkened with the dominance that consumed me.
“Show me,” I commanded him, emboldened by his swift, physical reaction. “Show me you belong to me.”
His eyes flashed, but he didn’t protest. This wasn’t how the game was played. Instead he crossed to me, stripping off his shirt and abandoning it. I braced for his hands—for the rough and unyielding brutality with which he always took me, but he dropped to his knees before me. His hands crossed in supplication before him.
He was giving me control. I bit my lip as he carefully plucked the satin gripping my stockings until my garter no longer held them, then he hooked his fingers around the band of my panties and drew them slowly to my feet. He waited as I stepped out of them and widened my stance, granting him access to my sex. Smith’s mouth brushed over the smooth skin of my belly, trailing lower until his mouth closed hungrily over my pussy. He didn’t use his hands, rather he planted them on the floor as the warm, moist tip of his tongue flicked along my seam, spreading me open. He worshipped me like this, on his hands and knees, his tongue stroking patiently until the first moan spilled from my mouth. He forced his tongue into my hole, circling my swollen entrance until my legs began to shake. I grabbed his hair to keep myself upright as he clamped his teeth gently over my clit and began to suck, urging the first trembling spasms of climax from me. But he didn’t relinquish his position, instead he swirled his tongue languidly over my captured bud, freeing me from the agony of want to the numbing bliss of pleasure.
My knees buckled, and he held me upright without changing position. I wanted to collapse against him, needing the familiarity of his arms around me. Smith, however, appeared intent on a different means of comfort. He looked up to me, eyes burning, and waited for my next instruction. My fingers loosened my hold on his hair, but I didn’t release him. Pulling softly, I guided him to his feet, still lost for words, and pointed to the bench at the foot of the bed before letting him go. He went to it and sat without a word.
“Take off your pants,” I finally managed, my tone lacking the authority usually present in his demands, but he did as he was told anyway.
I studied him for a moment, my eyes lingering over the brutal lines of his arms and legs before they lighted upon the cock jutting up against the flat plane of his abdomen. My mouth watered at the sight, and I had to stop myself from crawling to him in offering. I was in charge, and I wasn’t likely to get that opportunity again for while. Reaching behind me, I unhooked my bra and let it fall away. My stockings had rolled down slightly, but I didn’t adjust them as I sauntered toward Smith, shamelessly swaying my ass.
“How does it feel to give me control?” I purred, tipping his chin up with my index finger.
“Different,” he admitted with a smirk.
I tapped his cheek with my palm. “You’re not the only one who can dole out punishments.”
Smith crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back, giving me better access to his cock. “Punish away.”
“I don’t know if I’m punishing you or rewarding you,” I said, playfully slapping his shaft.
“Keep doing it and I’ll let you know,” he advised.
But I had other plans for him. Straddling his lap, I dropped lower until my sex hovered teasingly over his crown. I rocked back and forth, lightly sweeping my slick seam over him. Smith’s eyes closed as he groaned.
“A man only has so much patience, beautiful.”
“I know you have better control than that,” I said in a low voice even as I lowered farther, allowing his crest to breach my folds.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said gruffly. “I’m about a second away from flipping you over and spanking your petulant ass for being coy.”
“I see. Is this what you want?” I nudged myself against his tip until he was barely inside me.
“Beautiful.” His voice was thick with warning.
Now or never, I thought, knowing he wasn’t joking about punishing me. There would be time for that later. The realization coiled through me, tightening across my muscles as I sank down, swallowing his shaft to the root. A slow grin spread across his face.
“That’s it,” he coaxed.
“How do you like being topped?” I murmured, brushing my lips over his.
“I could almost get used to it.” He didn’t move as I continued to roll my hips, seeking the perfect balance between depth and friction. He was so deep that it almost hurt—in the best possible way. I didn’t ever want to get used to this delicious pain. I wanted to feel it each and every time we made love.
“Say it,” I panted as I continued to writhe on his lap.
Smith’s fingers found my nipples, pinching and toying with them until my breasts plumped, growing heavy with arousal. “Say what, beautiful? That your body was made for fucking? Or that I want you on my cock every day for the rest of my life?”
A strangled cry escaped me as I shook my head. I was so close—too close. All I needed to be pushed over the edge were three little words. The ones that I’d longed to hear since things had grown so complicated between us. He was everything I never knew I needed, and while that terrified me, I couldn’t imagine a day without him either.
“I know,” he soothed, wrapping an arm around my waist and drawing me closer. I melted into him as his hips began to thrust. He plunged into me with the precision of a man who understood exactly where a woman wanted to go and also how to get her there. “I know what you need to hear. I love you. Telling you is something I’m going to do every single day, beautiful.”
“Oh God, I love you.” I forced the words out as tingles turned into a wildfire, spreading white-hot through my limbs as his words burned across my heart. They’d branded me as his, imprinting across me like the molten tip of a knife. I was free and claimed. Liberated and bound. Smith Price owned me entirely.
Soft gasps turned to shuddering cries as I clung to him, wanting him deeper. I needed to be full of him, and as my taut muscles uncoiled around him, I moved harder and faster, lifting my ass and pushing back down even as my own climax diminished into subtle aftershocks that vibrated through my heavy sex. Smith grunted, jerking me down harder as he came, his eyes locking with me. The look we shared was raw and unguarded, each of us lowering our defenses.
His actions—his words—could kill me. I’d opened myself to him, exposed my weaknesses. But he’d shown me his as well. He’d taken my heart and transplanted it with his own.
Apart we were unguarded—defenseless to the outside world.
Together we were invincible.
Belle slid onto the bed, collapsing into a boneless heap across the downy comforter. I studied her for a moment, trying to process what we’d
both committed to. I’d brought her here out of selfishness, convinced I would be able to keep the situation under my control, but as always, she’d effectively destroyed my self-restraint on arrival.
That’s what you wanted all along.
Now she was back in my bed. I’d almost managed to sell myself the lie that I could give her up. She looked up at me with her wary, cornflower blue eyes, and I knew she guessed what I was thinking. Reassurance was in order for both of us before we wound up shouting again. Sinking onto the bed, I beckoned for her to come closer. Whatever dominant streak had possessed her earlier was gone now, and she pushed herself swiftly into my waiting arms.
“This is where you belong,” I murmured as I kissed the top of her head, drinking in her comforting scent. I wouldn’t deny that fact any longer.
“I never forgot that.” The accusation was back in her voice. Whatever bliss I’d given her during our lovemaking session hadn’t lasted.
“You have questions.” I stated it as a fact. We’d given in to our emotions as soon as we saw one another. Now we needed to grapple with the larger issues that threatened to tear us apart.
“Only about a million.” Her eyes flickered up to mine, and she stared me down.
“Ask and I will do my best to answer.”
“Was the break-up staged?”
God, the woman could be a lawyer. She certainly knew how to go for the throat.
“Yes,” I admitted. Her body tensed beside me, but I pulled her closer.
“By whom?”
There was that killer instinct again. Apparently she was going to let the fact that it involved Georgia Kincaid slide. For now. “I work for Hammond, but I also work for someone else.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” she retorted. “I figured that out a while ago.”
But she hadn’t figured out whom I worked for, or she wouldn’t be asking me for that information now.
“Belle, I said I would do my best to answer, but I also need to protect you. That information is dangerous.”
