"Should I be offended that you didn't realize it was me last night, Natalie? That me kissing you didn't spark a memory of that night?"
"I don't need a spark to remember. Last night, however, I was drunk. And you know that, otherwise you might have done things differently."
"Maybe. The Natalie I know wouldn't have had a one-night stand. Not like that."
"You mean not without the benefit of an auction? Perhaps I'm not the same Natalie. Or maybe you don't know me at all."
"I think I know you well enough." His smile was suggestive, bordering on lascivious. Yes, he knew her, in the biblical sense, an irony given the very thematic nature of the hotel itself. "Besides, you promised me you wouldn't go back."
"Actually I didn't." Her jaw lifted, a small but purposeful act of defiance against him. Though why she was feeling combative at all was a mystery to her. "You asked me to promise but I never did."
His eyes darkened as they searched her, and the smallest scowl curled at his top lip. "That's not a place for a girl like you, Natalie," he said, his voice as dark as his eyes.
She looked down at the sudden pressure at her elbows and found his hands wrapped around them, holding her tightly in place. "Tell me," she began, her eyes climbing back up to his. "Where should I be? What place is there for a girl like me, James?" It was a marvel to watch his face as he fought every emotion that came to surface: arrogance, confusion, self-righteousness, desire. She affected him. Was actively affecting him in that moment, in the close space of his territorial embrace. She touched her fingertips to his chest with gentle ease in a move meant to calm what he was barely controlling. "I never went back. Not that I wasn't tempted to." I only would have gone to find you.
His hands weakened but kept their hold on her. "You would have been disappointed if you had gone back. Though I can't say the same for whomever would have won you."
Was he saying that he never went back either? Did he never once think to find her, the way she often thought to find him? No, she wouldn't dwell on that. That line of thinking led to a mental space she did not want to occupy.
"I'm not some fragile young woman who needs protecting, you know. I was raised by good parents. I went to school. I've traveled a bit. I pay bills like an adult..."
"Maybe I like the idea of you needing my protection? This world I live in-"
"I don't live in your world," she interrupted. "You want someone to protect and shelter from the big bad world of whatever it is you do? Start with your wife."
As soon as the first foot stepped backwards he let her go from his grasp. She turned and headed for the door, just in time to hear him call out, "Soon to be ex-wife." She stopped, hand on the ornate gold door handle. "If that makes any difference to you?"
Did it make any difference to her? She wasn't under some grand delusion that the two of them had any kind of a future together beyond the confines of a penthouse hotel room, either in Los Angeles or Las Vegas. There was nowhere for them to go except the bedroom, and despite the aching want between her thighs she knew another night spent with him would give her nothing more than another five months of wondering what might have been. She had to know better from the start. She should have known better before she ever put on the dress.
She turned and glanced at him over her shoulder. "Does it to you? Or are you only telling me because you think the only way I would have a one-night stand is if it's with you?"
"I'm telling you because when I asked you to promise never to go back to the auction I thought I was doing what was in your best interest." He crossed the room until he was at her side, his body physically blocking the door from opening. "What I could never have anticipated was the realization I had upon walking into the lobby of my own hotel yesterday and finding you in it. Up until the moment Brandon brought you to me I hadn't decided if I was going to make my presence known to you at all."
"You hadn't decided, but you came to my cabana anyway?"
"Curiosity." He smiled and her knees turned to jelly, nearly toppling her topside.
She turned to face him but kept her hand on the door handle, ready to go should the fight-or-flight response in the limbic system of her brain move full stop to flight. "So then what was this realization you had?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Breathe, Natalie, she told herself. "It doesn't matter." She hoped she sounded resolute, but she wasn't sure. She turned the handle and managed to open it a full three inches before James pushed it back to a close with the palm of his hand.
"So that's it then?"
"James," she sighed.
"Natalie. Look at me." Her resolve weakened the moment she complied, her eyes turning to his and finding them as wanting of her as she was of him. "Would you be content to walk out that door and never see me again?"
She didn't need time to think of her response. "No. But I've already done it once before."
"Or you could stay," he implored her, his hands back on her body, fingertips pressing into her shoulders.
"To what end?"
"Why does there have to be an end?"
Because she knew better; knew that whatever she did - stay or go - she would wind up in the same position: thinking about what little time she spent with him, obsessing over every touch, each kiss, and letting him distract her from her life.
"Besides..." His fingers pulled at the fabric securing the cape around her neck. "I'm dying to find out what's underneath here."
His words like a match, he lit her. She knew at that moment that regardless of the end she wanted the now more than anything else.
NINE
The gold handle pressed into the small of Natalie's back as James pressed her against the door and claimed her mouth with his. There was urgency in the rushed manner in which his lips suckled at hers, and she was lost in the thrilling and immediate sensation of the contact. His hand slid over the crepe-satin fabric of the cape to her behind and her mouth parted in surprise, his tongue accepting the unspoken invitation to enter and find hers, to taste of her.
His free hand untied the bow at her cape until the fabric parted. James freed her mouth and looked down upon her, his eyes heavy with need as he pushed the cape over her shoulders to reveal the metallic silk dress beneath. She was breathless with anticipation, her breasts lilting as her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. He stepped back and took her full body in as the garment fell to the floor in a pile of creamy white silk around her feet. She breathed through her swollen lips and watched him as he appraised her.
"Goddamn it," he cursed, breathing hard.
"What?" she asked softly.
"What the hell was I thinking?"
Oh, no. Don't flip-flop on me now. Last time it was stay, go, stay, go. She couldn’t take that again, not after everything. "Do you want to stop?" Her eyes went to his trousers and saw the evidence of his arousal pushing against the taut fabric.
"No," he breathed. His hands smoothed over the pleated fabric at her hips. "I don't want to stop. In fact, I'm not going to let you leave. Not this time." With his right hand he bent and picked up her left leg, bringing it up until it was at his side, his hips pressed into hers. He buried his face in her, lips kissing at the soft junction of her neck and shoulder. His hand slipped beneath the skirt of the dress, open palm against the underside of her thigh. His lips kissed down to the plush roundness of her breasts, ripe and blossomed with the flush of sensation. His fingers pressed into her thigh as he brought his other hand to her backside and pushed her hips into him. She complied, moaning at the soft friction of his restrained erection against her.
The feel of him was better than any memory, any fantasy. The scent of his cologne brought her back to the viewing room at the Golden Palm, when she'd straddled him while another couple watched from a windowed room. There was no touch close enough, nothing fulfilling enough for the high he induced in her.
In a flash he was gone, his name unspoken on her lips, her leg dropping from his grasp. Natalie's eyes opened to find him carelessly d
isrobing from his jacket and tie before dropping to his knees.
"What are you-" He was under the skirt, head between her legs faster than she could process, his warm tongue making a long stroke against her opening before flicking gently at her clit. "Oh... sweet Jesus." On instinct she flexed her hips to widen around him, the leg his hand once possessed wrapping around his head like a boa constrictor, her body balancing on just one foot. His hands went to her ass to steady her, palms spread evenly across the cheeks and squeezing with every lick.
There was barely any time to lavish in his oral attention before she was building up, muscles tightening and readying to convulse. Her hands grasped at her breasts, kneading hard as she rose. His tongue swept and circled until her body crested, an aching pleasure setting her body ablaze as she came. She cried out wordlessly in an incoherent song as her standing leg grew weaker. He released her as she sank down the door, the fabric of her dress falling with her and revealing his face from beneath it.
"I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you in my lobby," he sighed through a satisfied smile.
"What took you so long?" she panted. Her legs cramped in their folded position but she didn't dare move. She would relish every lingering moment of her orgasm, committing it to memory as though it were something rare to jealously possess. Could she be so unlucky?
"Work," he huffed. "Not that I managed much of it once I realized you were here."
"So I'm a distraction?"
He cocked his head to the side, a knowing look on his face. "You have no idea. And god, this dress." He quickly got to his feet and swooped down to take her hands, lifting her up from the floor. His arms snaked around her waist and linked behind her back. "I don't know what I want more: to peel it off your body or make you wear it to bed."
Temporarily sated, high from his attentions and affection, she had all the confidence in the world. She smiled and said, "You can take it off once its paid for itself. Then again you did pay for it."
"So this is what student loans look like these days?" He bunched his fingers into the fabric at her backside, pulling it up inch by inch until her bare bottom was exposed to the chill of the room. "Very sexy."
Her nose wrinkled as a thought came unbidden to mind. "When you said you weren't going to let me leave..." Ever? Tonight?
"Natalie, you're not going to want to leave. Not this time." He spoke the words as though they were unequivocal fact.
"What makes you think I wanted to leave last time?" The words were out before she could stop them, regret following in their path. She didn't want to be vulnerable to him in any way that would shift the balance of equality between them. Nor did she want any kind of emotional investment that would later leave her brokenhearted. No, she had to keep it neutral. This was sex, not love. That's what his wife was for.
Natalie didn't want or need an answer to the question. Instead her fingers went to his trousers and made work of unzipping and pulling them down his hips until his hard-on was unencumbered. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, the muscles deep within her tightening with anticipation. James silently watched her until she had the courage to meet his gaze.
"Remind me," she murmured, exercising what control she did have into measuring her voice into an even pitch. Not that she could hide her excitement even if she wanted to.
He picked her up with no visible effort, her legs wrapping around his torso as though it were the natural thing to do. Her mouth parted as the tip of him pressed against her opening, lips embracing his size as he joined them together. She winced as the pressure of his erection expanded her, but she quickly recovered, sighing contentedly when they were flush against each other.
"Of course," she breathed. "How could I forget?" Her fingers snaked through his hair until she had a firm grip around his head, and safe in his embrace she flexed up and stretched back down, using her legs to move against the hard length of him.
"You didn't forget," he groaned, stepping forward until her back was against the door again. He arched and pivoted as he thrust inside her, his slow pace escalating in tandem with their breathing.
Natalie's eyes rolled back, eyelids closing as she relished in the sensation of him. With each thrust she tightened around him, squeezing as he moved out and releasing as he moved back in, again and again as beads of sweat formed on her skin. Between the pressure of his body in front and inside of her, the door at her back and even the scant fabric of the dress, she was boiling. And still she wanted nothing more than for her breasts to brush against his naked chest, to feel his heat against hers.
"Dress. Off." The words came out in shortened breaths but their meaning was clear. The fabric was gone in a flourish, ripped from her body, and her taut nipples were in his mouth and hands as he balanced her body against the door.
"James," she groaned. "Oh, James."
"Open your eyes," he demanded. She complied and was met with the intensity of his gaze, his every feature expressing his desire. "Say my name again."
"James," she whispered, smiling at the surge of satisfaction she felt when his breathing pitched. He thrust so deep into her she slapped against the door, the pain doing nothing to diminish her prideful smile. "James," she said again with more purpose. With every utterance of his name from her lips he thrust harder, faster, deeper until she was at the precipice of combustion. "James," she whispered against his mouth, sealing her lips around his. One final thrust was all she needed to come apart, moaning senselessly into his mouth as her body came to a still around him, her knuckles turning ghostly white as she held on tight to his shoulders.
He came after her in near silence, the sound of his moaning against her ear nearly sending her over the edge again.
Knock, knock, knock.
Natalie could feel the vibrations of the visitor's knocking against her back. She was still scattered and searching for enough breath to replenish her lungs as the twelfth man's mouth kissed at her lips, his moaning coming to a reprieve. He turned his head slightly and called out, "Who is it?" His voice was gruff, deeper than usual and the slightest bit of an accent touched each vowel of the three little words.
"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Fitzgerald. It's Brandon."
"Your man servant has interesting timing, Mr. Fitzgerald," Natalie quipped, biting her bottom lip through a smile. She tightened the vaginal muscles that still surrounded him and he winced. James separated from her and bent down to retrieve his clothing, dressing hastily as Natalie made her way to the bar, naked but out of view from the door as James opened it.
She heard but didn't listen to the twelfth man's conversation with Brandon. She clinked ice into a fresh crystal glass and then filled it with water, quenching her dry mouth from his oral assault.
Natalie observed the space around her, noting the expensive fabrics, lush floral arrangements and singularly spectacular view of the Las Vegas Strip twinkling away in the inky night. What was it about this man that required such lofty and beautiful surroundings? Did he even know what normal was? She tried to picture James in her apartment amid the small space that had a windowed view over a tree-lined street and a bakery directly across.
"What's so funny?" James interrupted her thoughts. The door was closed, Brandon gone.
"I was picturing you in my apartment. Your suit against a backdrop of Ikea and Target furnishings."
"Is that an invitation?"
Her smile fell, the humor quickly escaping her mood. Of course she couldn't actually picture him in her world, and he had said himself his world was no place for her. Or something like that. She had no interest in the world of the uber-rich, even if her handsome and charming one night-stand was among its premiere residents. It was one thing to blur the lines of reality when in Vegas, or even in the posh surroundings of the Golden Palm the one time, but eventually reality had to break through the sparkle and that reality was ordinary Natalie with ordinary problems, bills, and furnishings. She was merely passing through James' world. She knew nothing would change that, not even
great sex.
"You ripped my dress," she stated, changing the subject to extend the glamorous facade of Vegas over her reality for just a bit longer. She picked up the dress and examined it, frowning at the seam that had savagely ripped apart. "Now what am I supposed to wear when I go back to my room?" she playfully pouted.
"Morning light and a smile." He took the ruined metallic silk from her and discarded it immediately. "I'll replace the dress. Though if you put it on again I guarantee it will meet the same fate as its predecessor."
He didn't smile but the charm in his voice made her practically swoon with lustful delight. Morning light and a smile. So he wasn't done with her yet. And he was right when he said she wouldn't want to leave. She didn't, and tried not to think about the moment when she would eventually have to. Again.
"Deal," Natalie agreed. "What should we do in the meantime?"
"Make yourself at home. I need to take care of something in my office but I won't be gone long. Oh, and uh..." This time he did smile, and his eyes darkened, lids hooding over his eyes as some image - undoubtedly one of them together - came to mind. "Leave your shoes on. But only your shoes."
TEN
Natalie tried not to laugh at the realization she was alone in a penthouse in Eden, naked save for a pair of sky-high shoes while the twelfth man was off actually working. After freshening up in the powder room she grabbed for her phone before sitting down gingerly on the black-and-white satin striped couch.
'I don't think I'm coming back tonight.' She texted Quinn. The response was immediate.
'Quinn: I figured. But why are you texting me? Shouldn't you be doing something else? ;)'
Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her right leg over the left. 'He's working. He'll be back soon.'
'Quinn: Working?! He just left you?'
'No! Well, yes but he's the owner. Can't expect him to drop everything just because I'm here.' Natalie sighed and leaned back against the couch cushions, letting her eyes close. The late night Saturday hours were quickly giving away to early morning Sunday twilight. Of course Vegas and Quinn were still wide awake and having fun, but the time would soon pass completely and they would have to return to reality, back to Los Angeles, back to work. And her night with James would be just another one night-stand.
Sinful Reunion (Book Two of the Bidden Series) Page 5
