by Jani Kay
Fire flashed through my system. "I am not a whore."
He nodded. "I know that; I’ve figured you out."
No, you haven’t.
His eyes gleamed; a pink tongue ran over his bottom lip. "You ran from your room when the alarm woke you up, probably more focussed on your belongings rather than safety or dress code. You bolted without thinking of taking your key, and now have the dilemma of being stranded with no way of hiding and trapped by a man who has no self-control, decency, or the pretence of being a gentleman."
I should’ve been scared, terrified—but instead, I felt exposed and desperate for more of his insight. He read me so well. I couldn’t permit that with my new world. I couldn’t let others see past my projection and guess what a fraud I was.
"What gave me away?" I honestly wanted to know. For some reason, I lost the sense of danger and sought his help to hide the things I wanted to keep hidden.
His eyebrow rose. "What?"
Looking into his deep blue gaze, I said, "You were right. About everything. How did you know?"
He chuckled—the sound existed between sin and seduction. "Okay…" His fingers massaged the back of my neck, drawing me back a little to look at my breasts. "This is how I knew. You don’t have storage for a key, and as perfect as your tits are, I don’t see a key card stuffed between them." He smirked. "You wear uncertainty like a perfume, you move as if you’re only just getting used to being a woman, and you’re scared shitless of being seen."
Leaning closer, he whispered, "I smell it on you. The doubt. The lack of confidence."
My heart broke. "Really?"
Shit, everything I thought I’d achieved in the past few days came toppling down in lies. How did I land the lead role if I’d been so transparent?
His fingers released me, dropping from my neck and leaving me bereft. He nodded. "It’s a gift. I sense others’ weaknesses." Lowering his voice, he added, "I catalogue them, so I can use them against my opponent. No one is what they seem."
He’d shown my biggest fear. The terror that I would get to Hollywood and someone would point and expose me. That my dreams of living other characters’ lives and not having to confront mine would explode in my face.
Something fierce and hot glowed in his eyes. "By the way, my name isn’t David."
The switch of topics slammed me back to reality. I laughed quietly. "It was the only name I could think of at the time." Suddenly wishing for the protection of the magazine I’d thrown at Creep, I added, "My name’s not Lace."
"Pity, it would’ve been rather convenient if it had." His gaze narrowed, temper etching his face. His voice turned husky and dark. "It suits you, though. That lacey bra is doing my fucking head in." He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to tame the mess of blond. "You can’t see past your issues, but I can assure you, you have more power than you think."
Something sparked and tingled in my belly. It was beneath me to fish for compliments, but after what’d happened, I needed to hear something good.
"What power?"
He made a guttural noise in the back of his throat. "Fuck, woman. You might be naïve, but you’re not stupid. Do you want me to describe the affect you and your barely usable lace is having on me, or would you rather see evidence?" His hands shot to the white belt wrapped around his hips. "After all, fair’s fair. I see you. I should return the favour."
I gulped.
Oh, my God. He was naked under that thing.
The image of his muscular body being on display, along with the tantalising guess of whatever equipment he had between his legs, stole my breath.
Slowly, his fingers undid the knot, never taking his eyes from mine. "What’s it going to be, Lace?"
"You’re naked beneath that?" I didn’t mean it as a question, more of a statement. I didn’t need a response—it was obvious with the way the material tented out where the hardness I’d felt hung like an unsheathed sword.
"You already know the answer to that," he murmured.
Dammit, did he have to be so intoxicating? I should’ve fetched my key and been cocooned in the safety of my room by now. I shouldn’t be talking to a complete stranger who admitted he found me…sexy.
He finds me sexy.
He was right. That was power. Delicious power. Exhilarating power.
I drank him in—taking in the arrogant way he stood with his legs slightly apart and hands ready to pull aside his robe. Cuts marred his knuckles, intermingled with yellowing bruises, and there was a faint swelling beneath his left eye.
In the fluffy robe, he looked like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. No older than late twenties, he seethed with restrained energy and savagery. The sexual glint in his blue eyes was the final touch to a man who was dangerous, capricious, and so far out of my league he might as well have fallen from the stars.
I took a stumbling step backward. "I’ll take your word for it. I don’t need to see."
If I do, I have no idea what sort of woman I will become.
He paused for a moment, his nostrils flaring as if sniffing my lie. Slowly, he retied the belt.
Taking a few steps backward, he leaned against the opposite wall, creating a chasm between us.
His lips pressed together as he blatantly drank me in, doing nothing to disguise the lust glowing on his face. "You haven’t run from me yet, so I take that my honesty isn’t freaking you out." He lowered his head, watching me from beneath his brow. "Here’s another truth for you, Lace. You’ve got a fucking killer body. Curves in the right places—muscle where it’s needed. I want to touch every inch and see if you feel as good as you look."
Shit, I was in serious trouble.
My heart gave up beating and switched to fluttering manically around my chest. I’d never been so thankful for the torturous sessions of Bikram yoga I’d been doing in preparation for my audition. I’d been living my character for months. I didn’t really like the heat, let alone doing some stupid downward facing camel in a sweating room, but I did it to live someone else’s life.
The character I was to play was a traveller who owned a yoga business, hopping from country to country, training rich debutantes and billionaires. Amongst some hot scenes with sexy actors, I’d get to travel, be the lead in a romantic suspense, and get to work with the highly acclaimed director Felix Carlton.
But none of that mattered. Standing before a mountain of a man who made me wet with need and power, I didn’t care about anything else.
"You’re very bold," I whispered.
He crossed his arms, smiling coyly. "Not bold. Just honest. Will you be honest with me?"
Honesty. Truth. A painful path to a past I wanted nothing to do with.
Yes. No.
Balling my hands, I nodded.
His muscles went taut; his voice quivered in the air like a visible force. "Are you turned on hearing me say things like that, or does it make you want to run?"
My chest rose as I tried to formulate my answer. He wanted honesty? What was the harm? There was no one else to hear me. We existed in the witching hour before dawn where whatever I admitted could stay in the dark and never encroach on my real life.
Straightening my spine, I said, "Yes. I like it."
"Are you wet thinking about me? Does it make you hot to know my cock is rock hard and my fingers ache to touch you?" His gaze tightened. "Be honest."
I’d never admitted to such things. But this was unique. A once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. The moment the sun rose, it would be over, and the opportunity to step into the shoes of a woman I would never have the strength to play again would leave. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I’m wet. And yes, my fingers ache like yours."
He pushed off from the wall, sending my heart exploding with pinpricks of fear and desire. "Are you seeing anyone, married?"
I had so much to say—so much to hide. A single betraying word fell from my lips. "No."
"I hoped you’d say that."
I blushed. "And you?"
"And me what?"
I gritted my teeth. "Stop playing with me. You know what I want to know."
A flash of heat filled his face. "No. I don’t do relationships. We each have traumas and ghosts, Lace. I just hide mine better than everyone else."
Anticipation and impatience clogged my throat. I’d never had such overwhelming curiosity about another person before. Never truly cared to know what they hid behind their smiles or anger—too wrapped up in my own secrets to enquire.
"Do you believe in fate?" he asked.
A chill froze the twisting heat inside. I knew the answer to that. No. Definitely, no. I refused to believe fate decided to burn my parents to death, or leave me alone on my sixteenth birthday. I couldn’t stomach the thought of life being so cruel.
"No," I growled.
We both flinched at the passion behind my answer. I hadn’t meant to show another one of my flaws so soon. It didn’t stop the lust blazing in his blue eyes, though—if anything, it amplified it. He watched me with a need so deep it was like a black hole, sucking me closer and closer to him, reaching for my light—determined to draw me into his corruption and devour me.
And I was powerless to stop it.
"Interesting answer," he whispered. Closing the distance between us, he reached up slowly—his touch hitching a few times with uncertainty. I shivered as his fingertips brushed a lock of blonde hair behind my ear. Sensations bolted through me, heating up dark recesses of my soul I’d never had the courage to explore.
"What’s your name?"
My cheeks pinked as my traitorous blood heated. My core twitched, confronted with how virile and strong he was. The look in his eyes was…predatory.
"What’s yours?" I deflected.
His lips quirked. "I have two. And I’ll allow you to pick which one you’d like to scream out when I make you come."
Did he truly just say that?
My mouth parted.
His finger swooped beneath my chin, pressing up and closing my lips. "Two options, Lace. I’ll let you choose."
Oh, God. I didn’t trust myself to make the sensible decision. He was potent—an ambrosiac invitation.
My voice wavered. "What are my choices?"
He hemmed me against the wall, planting his hand by my head on the door. His body heat scalded. "Choice number one: I’ll ignore my fucking hard on and be the gentleman. I’ll head to the lobby to retrieve a spare key for your room. I’ll save you the journey of wandering around in your underwear and bid you a good night." His eyes flashed. "The minute you step inside your room, you’ll never see me again. We’ll both continue our lives as if we’d never met, and after I jerk off to the fantasy of you bent over the bed and screaming my name, I’ll forget all about you. We’ll remain perfect strangers."
My stomach flip-flopped. All I could concentrate on was the image of him stroking himself while picturing me doing naughty things—things I truly wanted to do. What a delicious vicious circle to be trapped in.
Surrender melted my muscles, saying farewell to my good girl convictions. The sun wasn’t far from claiming the night, I was on the cusp of my new life and identity—what better way to celebrate than with him? This man, who made me tingle and throb just by looking at me?
Forcing myself to speak, I said, "They won’t release the key to you. The security here is over the top." I knew, because I’d paid with my credit card with my real name: Saffron Duncan, but used my new movie role—Lucy Larson—as my nom de plume. Why? Who the hell knew.
I didn't really care, until I had to explain to management why I wanted to check into a room under a name I had no identification for.
"Yes, that could be a problem." His eyes crinkled as he smiled slightly. "I could always offer you my robe, but then you’d see everything I want to show you behind closed doors."
My cheeks pinked.
Shit, why did his voice have such an effect on me?
"Either way, Lace, you aren’t going to the lobby on your own."
"Why?"
His eyes narrowed. "Why? Because I’m completely against the thought of anyone else seeing you dressed like that. I’m jealous at the thought of others looking at you, and I don’t even know your name."
His voice dropped to a whisper, "Another truth for you, Lace. I’m one second away from spinning you around and showing you just how fucking tempting you are."
My skin broke out in goosebumps. "You’re making me uncomfortable," I whispered.
He sucked in a breath, visibly clawing back some of the tension echoing in his muscles. "I’m making you uncomfortable? What about me? Fuck, woman, you have no idea how hard it is to just stand here with you looking like that."
Ignoring that and clambering for safer subjects, I murmured, "What’s my second option?"
He bent his head, his lips stopping a whisper breadth from mine. "You allow me to help, while at the same time helping me with a little problem." His eyes hooded, once again taking liberties of my scantily clad body. "Come with me—to my room. You can call reception for a key. You’ll be safe from prying eyes…apart from mine. And you’ll be able to return to your belongs with no other problems."
Disappointment sat heavily. I tried to hide it but my voice rippled with unspent need. "That’s it? A phone call and safe haven while I wait for a replacement?"
The air thickened between us as his face darkened. I felt as if plummeted head first down a black chasm, falling and falling with no end or conclusion, destined never to find the bottom or truth.
He shook his head, blond tangles kissing his forehead. "No. If you take that option, a key will be delivered, but I personally guarantee you won’t want to leave. You’ll allow me to undress you, lick you, touch you, fuck you. You’ll permit a perfect stranger to use you. I’ll never forget about you. You’ll never forget about me. We’ll take everything from each other."
His hand moved, fisting my hair with slow winding fingers. "You chose option two, and you’ll live the rest of your life comparing lovers to me. We’ll both walk away with pieces of our souls missing, but fuck, it will be worth it."
Holding me immobile, his body pressed against mine. His knee wedged between my legs as his hand tilted my neck back, arching my spine. I trembled in his hold—completely in his control.
"Say yes," he whispered.
Words stuck to my speechless lips like silent begs.
"Say yes to the best fucking release of your life."
I sucked in shallow breaths. "A rather cocky thing to say to a woman you’ve only just met."
His white teeth flashed as he smiled slyly. "It’s not cocky if it’s the truth. And I can be honest with you."
"Why?"
"Because there’s nothing to hide. No future to tarnish or past to twist. Just the present. Just now."
I moaned as his lips suddenly crashed against mine. The shock of his hot mouth claiming mine rendered me mute and frozen. Then life swamped me with its passionate lava cascade.
I forced myself harder against him, jerking my hair in his hold. He trapped me against the wall, smothering me with huge robe-covered muscles. His tongue licked the seam of my lips, demanding entry.
I surrendered.
He groaned as I opened my mouth, welcoming his violent intrusion, tasting this stranger for the first time. I didn’t know his name, but I did know he tasted of suffering and sex, wrapped up in the sweetness of watermelon bubble-gum.
His hand fisted harder in my hair, forcing me to open wider. His knee shot up between my legs, thrusting against my swollen and extremely needy core.
Holy hell…
Then the kiss ended, leaving me panting, flushed, and upside down in a reality I no longer knew.
"Give me an answer, before I lose my mind." His hips pulsed, forcing his hardness into my belly.
My eyes fluttered.
What are you doing?
I bit my lip, searching for an answer that would justify the craziness of what I wanted.
I’m learning to live agai
n.
The soul-deep reply rendered me dumbstruck. I’d never acknowledged how functionary I was—how detached and mediocre my feelings had become. There were no spikes of joy or caverns of despair. No blips of laughter on a flat-line script of life.
This was my blip. My one chance to re-enter the world and live my life rather than hiding behind a character.
"What is it, Lace? I need to either get as far away from you as possible or drag you into my room. My control is about to fucking snap." His lips landed on the corner of my mouth, his teeth nipping with fraying restraint.
Panic took hold.
My life was planned and organised. In two days, I would leave for a career in the States. I had a one-way ticket. I’d fought for this all my life. I couldn’t….I can’t give that up.
I shook my head. "I—"
"Stop. You were going to say yes before. I saw it." Grabbing my chin, he held me tight. "Get rid of the bullshit in your head. Life is too short. Way too fucking short not to take pleasure where you can. I’ll ask you again. Yes or no?"
"I—I…"
A quick dart of pain crossed his features before he blocked his emotions. He smiled, unsuccessfully hiding the strange look of losing something precious before he’d even owned it.
The look of sudden vulnerability sent my heart winging, blowing away my panic and fanning the flames of desire.
"Ask me again," I breathed.
He stiffened. "Option one, we forget. Option two, we fuck."
Do it. Trust. Leap. Give in to spontaneous madness.
"Option two. I choose option two."
"Fucking hell." His mouth stole mine again in a passionate kiss. The back of my skull bumped into the wall from his pressure. His tongue swept into my mouth, stealing any doubts that I would regret this.
As suddenly as he’d kissed me, he released me.
Grabbing my hand, he tugged me toward his room, whisking me away from my old life, changing the whole dimension of my world.
If I had known how thoroughly he would change me, I would never have agreed.
I would never have given him my soul.
I would never have put myself on a trajectory of calamity.
