Blackest Red

by P. T. Michelle

  Doing so will put me squarely in his intimate space, but I need to know. My own emotions clogging my throat, I stand and rest my bound hands on his shoulder for balance, then slide my right foot across his lap. Sebastian closes his eyes and releases a low groan as my body slides down his until I’m straddling his thighs.

  The sensual beat of the song thumps in the background, and when Sebastian opens his eyes, I try not to react to the lust turning the bright blue a turquoise shade. To his credit he hasn’t touched me. I’m impressed that he’s honoring his word by holding onto the bottom of the chair.

  “The song is still going, which means you should be dancing,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “I’m on your lap,” I huff and pretend I can’t feel the heat of him just a couple inches from me.

  He leans close and speaks next to my ear, his husky voice igniting every nerve ending. “If you want me to answer, put your arms around my neck and dance.”

  Moving my body with my legs spread across his muscular thighs is near impossible without holding onto him, so I sigh and lower my bound wrists over his head. As I begin to slowly roll my hips to the song, Sebastian takes advantage of my binding preventing me from pulling back and slides his nose up my neck. Inhaling near my jaw, he quietly says, “Take your shoes off.”

  I’m thrown by his request, but fine with shucking my shoes. Doing so gives me a chance to separate our bodies a bit.

  The second I kick my heels off, Sebastian commands, “Tuck your legs behind you and hook your feet on my knees.” When I hesitate, he smirks. “I know how limber you are.”

  I try not to pant as I do as he asks, but as soon as my second foot is hooked, I realize too late that this position thrusts my body forward and aligns my sex with his erection perfectly.

  When I start to unhook my feet, he growls along my jaw. “My term. Stay put.”

  “That’s your third,” I exhale in a whisper just as he lowers his nose to my cleavage and breathes me in, rumbling his approval.

  “Why have you stopped dancing?” He says in a casual tone as he begins to move his hips in a slow, arousing rock.

  His action slides his erection with jaw-grinding pressure along my sex. “I—I can’t dance like this,” I say, my voice suddenly raspy with want.

  “Yes, you can. Move your hips with mine.”

  I realize I’m not even trying. My body is moving on its own, a counter to his gyrations.

  “Fuck, you feel good.”

  His voice is gravelly with desire, and the sheer heat of his body and muscular hardness under my legs and along my sex is making it very hard to focus. “Tell me, Sebastian,” I remind him. My voice is barely a whisper. I’m trying so hard to keep my composure, while his movements turn more aggressive. Each time he moves, he’s hitting my clit just enough to make my insides feel barren and empty, aching to be filled.

  His lips graze my ear. “Should I tell you all the flowery things women want to hear?”

  Ironically, in the background, the singer is explicitly saying what he wants to do to the girl…and I want that too. I want Sebastian raw and at his dirtiest. “No, that’s not you.”

  He exhales a harsh snort. “Damn straight. Look at me, Talia.”

  When I meet his gaze, he holds mine with magnetic intensity. “Animalistic doesn’t begin to describe the many ways I want to take your sweet body. I want to possess every part of you. My mouth waters at the thought of licking you raw, then making you wet for me all over again. I can’t stop thinking about the feel of you under me, your pussy dripping with want while you beg me to let you come.”

  He still hasn’t told me why. Is this his reason, pure sex?

  “Tell me to touch you,” he commands as he slowly begins to move to the music again, his movements grinding into me, showing me what he wants.

  Did I read so much more into that song than he meant?

  My body clenches at his sexual stimuli and even as my hips move instinctively with him, my body absorbing his arousing friction against my center, I shake my head. “No touching.”

  His jaw sets and he quickly reaches behind him, yanking down on the tie dangling from my wrists. I’m instantly pulled forward, my chest crashing against his hard one. “What the fuck is this then?” he growls, grinding his cock aggressively against me.

  I gasp and close my eyes as my body clenches in stimulated response. Shit, if he keeps this up I won’t last. My mind is yelling for me to tell him to stop, but my body is clamping my mouth closed, keeping me from speaking. It feels so good being pressed against him like this, his warmth and smell spreading through me with each breath I take.

  “Do you really think a contract covers us?” he grates, lifting his pelvis off the chair. His hard abs ripple against me, and his next movement presses his cock just inside my entrance. Only his clothes and my underwear are separating our mutual desire to connect in the way we both desperately want. The tease nearly sends me over, making it hard for me to think past my own cravings. “Sebastian, we can’t—”

  “What we have is indefinable; it can’t be bound by words on a fucking page,” he says as he grasps my hips and stands.

  Taking the few steps to the bed, he ducks his head out of my arms and drops me onto the mattress. He’s on his knees and sliding my dress up my thighs on my first bounce. Yanking me to the end of the bed, he shreds my underwear in one sharp tug and before I can move, his mouth is pressed against my wet entrance, his tongue thrusting inside me.

  I scream out and arch against the bed; the feel of his hands spreading my thighs wide, his hot mouth devouring me, is an arousing jolt to the electric need zinging through my body. He’s never gone down on me like a starving man before. He’s always controlled the pace, teasing me until I’m begging for it.

  I’m shocked by his aggressive savageness, but also so turned on all I can do is let him pillage me, his lips tugging and teasing mercilessly while his tongue flicks and sucks every sensitive crevice. As he groans his approval, he doesn’t leave a part of me unplundered, and my body reacts to his thorough possession, flooding with the desire to be taken. I dig my fingers into his thick black hair, not to push him away, but to yank him closer.

  “You taste like the fruit you ate earlier,” he murmurs against me. It’s a lover’s comment, one of a man who pays attention. “I’m going to lap up every last ounce from your pussy tonight,” he growls, his fingers gripping my ass and tilting me to give him better access.

  Chill bumps scatter across my skin. I’m connected to him at this moment. Every suckle, nibble, and lick sends shivers racing through me, shooting my pulse to the stratosphere. When he rumbles a primal sound, then lifts my leg over his shoulder so he can burrow closer, I moan and whimper. Letting my arms fall to the bed, I surrender fully to his mouth, rocking against him, pressing as close as I can get.

  This is the Sebastian I want—out of control and ravenous.

  He swallows, his deep voice vibrating against me in a rough rasp. “I can’t get enough of your taste. It’s making me so hard I could pound a hole through a brick wall.” He glances up at me, his eyes pinning me to the bed as effectively as if he laid his body over mine. “When you come, I want you to give me all you’ve got. I want to fucking drown in you.”

  This time he dips his head and sucks my clit deep into his hot mouth. I gasp and tremble as my passion builds. My hips follow the rhythm of his mouth’s unrelenting intensity, and my walls clench, yearning to be stretched and filled with his hard heat. As my mind conjures the memory of his thick cock thrusting deep inside me, his muscular body pressing my smaller one to the bed, shudders roll through me, and my breathing hitches. My orgasm rips through me in a storm of erotic, all-consuming shudders. While the sensory explosion shoots from my core to my heart, his name rushes past my lips over and over in a reverent chant.

  The pressure of his mouth eases and he slides his tongue in slower, leisurely swipes along my sex as if the act alone is pleasurable to him. Tracing a sensuous path up
and over my throbbing clit, his arresting eyes reflects smug arrogance mixed with simmering want as he presses a tender kiss to the tiny patch of hair between my thighs. Just as he puts his knee on the bed between my legs and leans over me, a light knock sounds at the door. “Natalia. Are you still up?”

  Shit. It’s Jared.

  Fury floods Sebastian’s features and he says in a menacing tone, “Get rid of him.”

  Heart racing anew, I quickly shove my bound hands against his chest and whisper, “Untie me and go to your room.”

  Standing, he folds his arms, his face set in determined lines, voice low. “I prefer to stay.”

  “Do you want to get fired?” I whisper as I quickly stand and wiggle my wrists free of his tie on my own. Glaring at him for not helping, I push his tie against his chest while tugging my dress back down with my free hand. “Please go, Sebastian.”

  A knocks sounds again. “Natalia?”

  Sebastian takes his tie, but he doesn’t move to leave. When I notice the muscle ticking in his jaw, panic rises in my chest. I really don’t want him to get fired. I don’t want him to leave me and walk out of my life. I’ll never be ready for that, but definitely not right now. I walk over and open the door that connects our rooms. “Let me talk to him first.”

  Grunting, he starts to walk through without his jacket, but I quickly grab it and shove it in his arms, then shut the door behind him.

  “Just a sec, Jared,” I say as I glance around the room for my underwear. Where is it? As I get on my knees and look under the bed, it occurs to me that Cass would be laughing her ass off right now while totally giving me hell about having one guy coming in the front door while shoving the other guy out the back way.

  Blowing out a breath, I put the chair back, then walk over to the door and smooth my hair before grabbing the handle. “Hey, Jared. What’s up?”

  His gaze drops to my chest and a smile spreads across his face. “You should’ve just worn that tonight. Can I come in for a sec? I don’t want to discuss this in the hall.”

  “I was getting ready to go to bed, but sure,” I say, waving him in.

  As we step into my room, my gaze instantly snaps to the rumpled end of my bed and the two cell phones lying on the corner of it. Heart racing, I stand so he has to put his back to the bed to face me. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Smiling, he rocks on his heels. “I’m able to have breakfast with you tomorrow.”

  “Great. So eight in the restaurant downstairs?”

  Once he nods, but doesn’t say anything else, I tilt my head. “Is there something else you wanted to talk about?”

  He nods and takes a step closer to push my hair over my shoulder. “You really are beautiful with your hair loose and a bit mussed.”

  “Um, thanks,” I say, then clear my throat and take a step back. I need to have that talk with him now. This can’t wait until tomorrow. “Jared, what I—”

  “I want to discuss your security,” he interrupts, his tone breezy, turning to business. “I’m going to change it, hire another firm.”

  I quickly shake my head. “No, I don’t want you to. I’m comfortable with Sebastian.”

  His mouth tightens. “Well, I’m not. The way he watches you makes me want to punch him.”

  I snort and fold my arms. “It’s his job to watch me.”

  “Not like he does,” he says briskly, his lips thinning. “The man looks at you like something he covets. Did you have a relationship with him in the past?”

  I don’t know what to call what Sebastian and I have, but I’m definitely not defining it for Jared. “My past relationships are private. I’m not discussing them with you. Just like I haven’t asked you about yours.”

  “I would tell you if you asked,” he says, his tone softening.

  I rub my hands on my arms to erase the sudden chill and shake my head. “I can’t do this, Jared.”

  Worry creases his brow. “What can’t you do?”

  “Us,” I say, waving my hand between us. “I want my relationship with Midtown Central to be a long one. You’ve pretty much acted in editor capacity for me the past month, and one day you could be my editor. I think it’s best not to go to dinner with you, except in a business capacity.”

  “So that’s it?” he says, his tone sharper, eyes drilling into me.

  I touch his sleeve. I’m sorry, Jared. I’m just not willing to jeopardize my career.”

  He puts his hand over mine and I’m surprised by the resolute look on his face. “You might be giving up, but I’m not.”

  “I think it’s for the best to remain colleagues,” I say, nodding.

  Jared shakes his head. “You’re still having breakfast with me.” When I start to suggest we skip it, he continues, “There are some things I want to go over about your agenda for the rest of the tour.”

  It’s most likely stuff Kayla can easily convey, but I can tell Jared’s feeling rejected so I just nod. “Okay. I really need to get some sleep now.”

  As he turns to walk to the door, his gaze strays to my bed. I’m not sure if he sees the two phones, but I pick up my pace anyway and open the door for him, saying in a light tone, “See you in the morning, bright and early.”

  After Jared steps outside my room, I’m relieved that he knows where I stand on us. I may as well make sure my past isn’t going to be an issue. “Who told you about my past at the kick off party?”

  He turns, eyebrows raised. “So it’s true about the drugs then?”

  I knew asking him meant he’d question me again. Squeezing the door handle, I let out a slow breath. “I didn’t have a choice. I was thirteen. And no, I didn’t take the drugs.”

  Sympathy in his gaze, he nods his understanding, then lifts his shoulders. “I have no idea, honestly. I was standing there in the crowd talking to Nathan and when I glanced down a note had been left on the plate in my hand. I asked Nathan why he didn’t just tell me directly, but he was just as clueless about your past.”

  “It’s not a part of my life I like to talk about,” I say. “Goodnight, Jared.”

  “Thank you for trusting me enough to share,” he says, smiling. “Night, Natalia.”

  Once he leaves, I sag against the door, frustrated that I still don’t know who tried to ruin my career. Exhaling a sigh, I know I need to take Sebastian his phone, but just as I start to pick his cell up, my phone rings.

  I’m surprised Mina’s calling me so late, so I grab my phone and answer. “Hey, Mina. Is everything all right?”

  She expels a light laugh. “Everything is great. I know you’re used to me calling via video, but this time I’m hoping we can get together in person. I think we’re way overdue. Would you be able to meet me for breakfast tomorrow morning?”

  “I’m sorry, Mina. I just made breakfast plans—” I pause when I hear her dejected sigh. “But if you can meet me at the Regent at seven, we could have coffee in the restaurant. Would that work for you?”

  “That’ll be perfect,” she says, perking up.

  “Wonderful. And I hope you’re bringing Josi. I can’t wait to hold that sweet munchkin.”

  Mina laughs. “I don’t go anywhere without her. She can’t wait to meet you too.”

  I’m smiling when I hang up with Mina. I truly like Sebastian’s little sister, and if she asks me over coffee tomorrow to be Josi’s godmother, I’ll be honored to accept.

  My heart aches as I stare at the door separating Sebastian and me. I thought I could conjure my inner-slut, and then put her neatly back in the bottle—my feelings for Sebastian right along with her—but right now I feel raw and torn.

  He makes me feel every spectrum of emotion. Yes, lust is high on that list, but he also makes me want so much more every time I’m with him. The ache in my chest hurts even more this time than when I left him sleeping in Martha’s Vineyard. Obviously sex is all he wants from me. Well, it’s all he’s willing to give of himself at least. And I deserve more than that, because I would give the infuriating ma
n the freaking moon if I thought he’d stick around.

  As if Sebastian knows I’m thinking about him, my phone pings with a text.

  PainInMyAss: Planning on returning my phone anytime soon?

  I frown at Sebastian’s phone on the bed and type him a message.

  Me: How are you texting me if your phone is right here?

  His phone silently vibrates on the bed a second later with my text.

  PainInMyAss: Bring it to me and I’ll tell you.

  Taking a steadying breath, I set my phone down and pick his up, then walk through the door between our rooms.

  He’s standing straight across from me in the dark room, leaning against the wall next to the window, his dress shirt unbuttoned and his hands tucked into his pants’ pockets. I blink so my eyes adjust to the lack of light. “Why are you in the dark?”

  “This feels normal to me.”

  It’s said without humor or sarcasm. A simple statement of fact. It’s true; the man lives in the shadows. I hold his phone up. “Per your request.”

  “Come here, Talia.”

  My heart thumps at his directive, but I can’t stop myself from obeying. When I’m a foot away, he pulls another phone from his pants’ pocket, then glances at the one in my hand. “It’s cloned.”

  I frown even as I hand it to him. “Why have you cloned your own phone?”

  “Security,” he says, setting them both on the desk next to him. “If it’s stolen, I can turn on the mic or camera to discover who the bastard is. If I lose it, I can remote erase the data. It’s a fail safe.”

  I tilt my head and study him. His mood has shifted. I feel the tense vibe simmering off him. “Are you always so prepared?”

  “Whenever I can be. Did you send him away?”

  “Jared’s gone if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “You know what I’m asking. He wants you. Did you tell him he can’t fucking have you?”

  “Why? Because someone else already does?” I snap, wanting to hit him upside the head. I spread my hands and glance around the room, sarcasm building. “I don’t see anyone here claiming that role.”