Innocent Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 1)

by Charlotte E Hart

  “You still haven’t told me much about yourself. What do you do, Quinn?”

  He clears his throat and runs his napkin over his mouth, taking his time to answer. “Today, I gained a casino.”

  “Oh, wow. Are you in the entertainment industry?” I don’t miss the weird grin Shifty makes out of the corner of my eye.

  “Not exactly entertainment, depending on your viewpoint.” He stares for a minute, then returns to his food. “I work across several sectors. Business is all just numbers to me. Profit and loss.”

  “You built the business yourself? I know how hard it was for me just to buy my small property for the studio.”

  “I took over the family business. Built on what was already there. It’s more than it was, less than it will become.”

  “Impressive.” He sounds so sure of himself. He radiates a confidence that is far more than just inflated ego.

  “Hard work pays dividends. The rewards are just bigger for me than most.” Quinn’s eyes capture all my attention as he speaks. All this talk of business and success makes my mind wander back to the fantasies I conjured before the date. The romantic part of me wants to let my imagination spark, but there are too many questions I need to ask.

  Quinn’s attention is pulled from me by his phone. He frowns at the screen before standing and walking out of the restaurant. Despite my annoyance, it does give me a fine view of him walking away. He’s a hazard to my weak heart.

  “You’re Jenny’s friend?” the man lurking in the shadows asks.

  “Yes, why? Do you know her?”

  “You could say that.” His jaw is rigid, tight with tension, and the relaxed air that I’d finally reached disappears.

  Before I can dwell further on the evening, or what Shifty has said, a hum of sensation rushes over my body.

  “Please excuse me. I had to take that call.” Quinn’s warm breath caresses my neck as he whispers in my ear, his deep-toned voice sending shivers fleeing over my body. His hand gently squeezes my shoulder as he passes, going back to take his seat.

  I watch, enthralled by this gorgeous creature, and all thoughts dissolve in my mind. His cool blue eyes roam my body and my cheeks flush in response.

  The connection between us, thick with anticipation, is interrupted by a cough from Shifty. It breaks the trance I was falling into and my mind snaps back to the present and what we were talking about. Jenny.

  I look over at Quinn, desperate to know more about him. “Why was Jenny coming to meet you?” I wish my voice sounded stronger. “She doesn’t do anything that I can see would make you work acquaintances.”

  “We had some terms to discuss. Shifty will speak with her later. It doesn’t matter now.” He glances to his friend and they exchange a silent conversation. “I’d rather focus on what’s happening here, Emily.” My eyes drop and I reach for my flute. The intensity of his stare is disarming. I drain my third glass of champagne. The effervescent bubbles are starting to loosen my nerves and the tension that’s clung to me since walking in here.

  A waitress clears our plates, and I can’t help noticing how her eyes remain glued to Quinn like she’s waiting for him to notice her. She’s pretty. Long, glossy blond hair, barely a size eight. Her over-glossed lips are in a perfect sexy pout waiting to smile. But Quinn pays her no attention. He tops up my glass for the fourth time and gives me the warmest of smiles. It sends my stomach into a storm, and I can’t help but feel triumphant over the young waitress. It urges me on and my earlier question has slipped away.

  I lean forward and rest my forearms on the table. “Would you mind if I looked at the dessert menu?” I look up at him through my lashes. All my inhibitions have abandoned me.

  “Take your pick.”

  “You won’t indulge?”

  “My idea of dessert isn’t something I order off a menu.” He doesn’t hide the appreciative once-over he gives me. “At least, not here.”

  Flirting. I am flirting with a sexy man, and he’s flirting back. It is the best high in the world. Added to the champagne, I can’t stop the smile from lighting up my face. I bite my bottom lip and take the menu that has miraculously appeared at the side of the table.

  I’d forgotten Shifty is still in our company.

  I read over the words, but I don’t take anything in. I’ve got half an eye still on Quinn. My pulse skips up a beat, and I press my thighs together as I run his words back over in my mind.

  Innuendo is one thing. Following through is something very different. He might be teasing me, no real intention to see me again after the check is paid. The thought makes me sad because despite the strange and intimidating circumstances, I like this man. He’s mysterious and sexy and unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, let alone shared a date with.

  I block the questions and try to focus my eyes on the dessert choices.

  “I think we’re done with the date part,” he says suddenly. My eyes lift, uneasy. “Indulgence doesn’t belong at this table any longer.”

  Quinn stands, drops his napkin on the table and seizes my hand in his. I gasp at the contact, still unsure, but he leads me out through a back entrance of the restaurant, my feet struggling to keep up.

  “Shifty, bring her belongings and leave them on the foyer table. I’ll be in touch.”

  He pulls me forward and I all but fall into him as he turns to a bank of elevators.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to be honest with each other.”

  Chapter Seven

  I keep tugging her hand as we step out into the foyer in front of my apartment, interested in the hesitation that lingers in it. I’ve not had someone hesitate behind me in a long time, not that I’ve held a hand for a long time either, but the nerves are endearing for some reason.

  “A hotel room?” She giggles her question.

  “My apartment.”

  “Oh.” She sounds impressed, which makes me chuckle as I swipe my door card. She’s cute. Sweet natured. The term halts my chuckle, turning it to a confused musing as we continue inside. “Wow, look at that view.” Fuck the view. There’s only one view I’m interested in.

  She’s over to the windows before I have a chance to stop her, her feet tripping over the rug as she goes. Her heels aren’t even high. “It’s so vivid, magical even. I could take photos for hours up here. Look at the lighting from the buildings.”

  All nerves seem to disappear as she stares out my window and gazes over London. It’s nothing compared to the fine sight of her standing against it, especially now her tension’s evaporated. She’s beautiful in this guise, annoyingly. More so than the nerves and twitches of earlier. Lean figure. Great assets. Contours that make me want to look at them, draw them even. And those eyes. They smile at the corners constantly. One blue, one green. Two sides of the same coin. They’re intriguing to me, reminding me of my dice as they roll the air. A fuck like Jenny would have been preferable for the type of entertainment I was thinking of, easier to fuck into and then get rid of. This girl isn’t going to be like that. She’ll be clingy, needy. She’ll expect something that isn’t going to happen. It’s the type of thing I don’t need, or want.

  I walk up to her, still admiring the view that has fuck all to do with London, and pull my jacket off.

  “You do this often?” I ask, knowing the answer before she speaks.

  “What?”

  “Follow men up to their rooms?” She giggles, her face looking coy as she glances at me.

  “God, no. I think I must be drunk. Either that or—”

  Her breath catches as I run a finger across the back of her neck and turn her towards me, air filtering out again as she rights her feet.

  “You nervous, Emily?”

  “Yes.” I smile at that, unsure of the last woman who was nervous of me. High-end cunt doesn’t get nervous of anything. It gets paid; that’s all it cares about. But this pretty thing? She’s real. Lips quivering as I watch them. Teeth nibbling over them as she trembles in my fingers.
/>   “I like that you are.” She frowns, her eyes darting to my chest to avoid my gaze. The confusion is as charming as her nature, for some reason causing my interest to deepen rather than dissipate like it should. “You’ve never been fucked by a real man, have you?” Her eyes fly up again, shock written through them at my words. Missy’s never had someone fuck her, or fuck with her, by the look of it. I smirk at the horror etched on her features, her arms wrapping around herself regardless of my hold on her. “Scared Emily?” She takes a minute to look at me, then shakes her head.

  “I wouldn’t be here if you scared me.” Stupid girl. “Maybe that’s the champagne talking, though.”

  I move in again, knocking her arms from around her waist and drawing her into me.

  The first press of my lips against hers spirals into something it fucking shouldn’t. It’s gentle and tender, her mouth quivering under mine. It doesn’t feel usual to me. It feels intimate, like I should give a fuck about what I’m doing. I back off instantly, removing my lips from hers and travelling them along her neck instead. That’s enough for my dick to wake up, reminding itself of what I brought her here for. Fucking is what I’m after. A fuck to relieve this tension. That’s all. And it keeps going from there. Breathy little moans from her as I make my hold fiercer. Occasional gasps as I let myself get on with the plan and begin pushing her against the window. She smells like sex and sin, the sound of her groans making me want to get deeper and wait for her screams to come.

  “Quinn.” She breathes my name, causing me to half falter on her neck. It vibrates inside me like a fucking memory of a sound I haven’t heard before. I grab her thigh and hitch her leg up, hoping to rid myself of the sensation, but she says it again as she grabs hold of my hair.

  My mouth is straight back to hers before she has a chance to say it any more. This isn’t what she thinks it is. This is fucking, and I start that process again before I think any more about it. I push her harder, grasping out at limbs and eventually hauling her towards the bedroom rather than fucking her where she stands like I would a whore.

  Clothes tear as she starts getting rowdy, surprising me as she grips on and begins devouring my mouth. My shirt goes first as we tangle past the rooms, her dress will be next as I throw her towards the bed. She giggles again and turns, her body looking too damn perfect in the room. Fucking giggles. She’s drunk, or dirtier than I thought. Either way I’m fucking her in the next ten minutes.

  “You a dirty one?” She looks away from me, reaching behind herself to unzip her dress. But she looks at me over her shoulder and gives me a sexy smile. “You’re drunk.”

  “I know what I’m doing, Quinn.” No she doesn’t. She hasn’t got a fucking clue what she’s doing. Not that I care.

  I smirk as I stare at her, watching her peel the dress down her body. It’s fucking divine. Everything about her is. It should be for a hundred K, too. She’s going to work every penny of that off tonight, and if she doesn’t, she might work it off another night as well.

  “Touch yourself.” She blanches for a second, her fingers hovering around the dress before she gets it fully off. I keep smiling and pull at my tie, all the time enjoying the way she flusters around each move. “Make yourself come, dirty girl.” She gasps, seemingly shocked at my crudeness. I just keep undressing, doing nothing to pull back the remark.

  “I… I don’t do that,” she stutters, all brazenness disappearing.

  “You do now.” I walk over, discarding my pants and sitting on the bed. “Get the dress off and put those dirty little fingers between your thighs.”

  She gapes, still with no movement other than eyes that roam my whole frame. Good, let her look. Let her get a real long look at what’s about to get inside her. Nothing about this is soft. There’s nothing nice here, regardless of the gentlemanly appearance I gave her tonight. Nothing gentle or tender. It’s hard and fast. Calculated and cold. I don’t love. I fuck. That kiss, whatever the fuck it was, wasn’t real.

  “I’ve got no time for hesitation. Do what you’re told.”

  She does, slowly. Her hands release the dress and it slides down her body. She fidgets as she stands, and then lies back on the bed, taking the command with little argument. It pleases me more than I’d like to admit. She keeps up with those breathy little moans as her hands travel along her body, making my dick scream for pussy it’s not getting yet.

  She’s a natural at dirty. Her fingers have a reality about them, hesitant in their crawl across her skin. It’s a raw corruption. Real. It makes my dick throb for the filth I could get from her. Pretty little girl turned dirty whore, just for me. Not the pay check they’ll get at the end.

  “Inside you,” I say, as she hovers around the edges of her pussy, fingers dipping in the top of her panties. “Make yourself squirm for me, dirty girl.” She hovers still, unsure maybe. The uncertainty drives me mad, enough so that I snatch at her legs, scraping the fabric down her legs so I can see more clearly. “Now.” She gasps as she scrambles away a little, eyes wild at my tone, and kicks out at my hands on her. Screw that. She’s not stopping now. I’ve got a dick like iron that needs pussy, and a woman who’s going to do something about that.

  I’m over her before she knows what’s happened, my hands pinning hers to the bed and my weight settling between her thighs.

  “You teasing me, Emily?” She shakes her head rapidly, air puffing from her mouth again as my body pushes into hers. “Too dirty for you?” She squeals like a fucking mouse, eyes flicking between mine and the door. I rub my dick against her and watch them snap back to me, a moan erupting with her next breath. “I think you’re dirtier than you want to admit.” I gaze at those lips of hers. They’re quivering again, her eyes haunting me with memories I don’t have. And my mouth wants to be on hers again. It wants kissing and fucking combined, my dick already engaging the decision before my mind’s caught up. She gasps and closes her eyes as I slip inside an inch, her heat making me moan out in torment for more.

  I gaze at her as she tips her head back, more moans and groans coming as I inch in further to prolong my own escape.

  It’s like a different planet here. No crime. No whores. Just me and her, fucking like real people do.

  “Quinn,” she says, her wrists flexing against my hands. “Please.”

  I drop my head away and aim for the lace bra encasing her full breasts. They’re as divine as the rest of her, ripe and lush, their flesh bouncing over the top of the fabric as her chest heaves in and out. It makes me grab at one, perversely feeling the need to squeeze it harshly and mould it around in my hold like I do whores. She yelps and bucks into me, her pussy trying to drag me further inside as she keeps pushing and writhing around.

  “Tell me you’re a dirty little whore.” Another yelp comes as I bite through the fabric, teeth bearing down on the pert nipple that screams for escape. I’m ravenous for them, enough so that I scrape at the material, yanking it away from her skin and pushing it up to expose her to me.

  No words come from her as I lave my way around her breasts, though, just more moans and groans, her body undulating beneath mine. “Tell me, Emily.” Still nothing but her innocent gasps and yelps of a carnal lust she knows nothing of. I slap out at one of her breasts, watching the way it bounces and shudders. It makes her shove down onto me, her pussy heating my dick that’s fit to burst. I back out again, lessening her grind. “You want it harder, you talk to me. I want to hear that dirty mouth of yours.”

  “Please, Quinn,” she gasps, her hands reaching for my hair. I knock them away, one of them forced onto the sheets again as I rear up over her and lever an inch in and out. A small slide in, the tip ready to shoot come inside her like a gun unloading.

  “Please. I can’t…” My fingers slide down, tracing her curves before finding that clit and rubbing at it. She’s like a canon in my hands, ready to explode at my command. Trembling, quivering. Lips opening and closing as I find my way around her. It’s a fucking epiphany or some shit. It’s vibrant and alive. M
y little whore, one who’s bucking and grinding down, filthy little moans as she forges her pussy towards me. I sneer at the whole fucking thing, annoyed with my interest in it as I watch her move and surge in my hold. “Please, Quinn.”

  The last sound of my name on her lips makes me flip her over and shove her head into the pillows, my hand hooking under her chin to pull her face back up again.

  “You want me in that pussy, you beg me for it.” She gasps again as her ass rises to me, her head sinking into my hand like it’s meant to be there. “Come on dirty girl, beg me for it.”

  I slap at her ass, the sound of it drowned out by the immediate scream that leaves her lips. Still no fucking words, though. It maddens me, making me become rougher to get want I want. I like a dirty talker. I like the filth that springs from their mouths in the heat of the moment, and I definitely want it from this clean living little devil. “I want that pretty little accent to beg like a whore, Emily.”

  “Please,” springs from her mouth again, as I pull her up to me and lick along the side of her face. Fuck please. I want her talking about cock and pussy. I want her moaning around my dick, letting out breathy little gasps as I fuck it down her throat. “Oh, God.” She stalls in my grasp as I slap at that ass again, delivering four more to wake her dirty little mouth up.

  “Tell me you want me to fuck you, dirty girl.” She squirms, tears springing from her eyes as I pull her upright and sink my fingers inside her. The feel of her on my hands makes me yank on her pussy, another finger pushing in to widen her hole. “You desperate?”

  “Oh, God, Quinn, I can’t...” She fucking can.

  I slip my fingers out of her, spreading the wet hole and leaving her vacant of anything. She pants and moans in my hold as my teeth and lips lave her neck, teasing her into saying something other than please.

  “Tell me and I’ll fuck you.” Nothing but broken gasps and wretched sobs. They harden my dick, making it damn painful not to be inside her. I stretch her hole again, gently tracing the edges of it, teasing until she’s got nothing but tears and breath left to fight with. She’s so fucking soft in my fingers, like petals that know nothing of carnage. “Two words, dirty girl.” I push my dick against the hole, levering it up and down, slicking it through her juices. “Two words and you get it, Emily.” She pants and presents her ass again, her head trying to lower to the sheets. Dirty girl wants fucking in the ass, too. She might even get it if she begs enough.