The Fidelity World- Nondisclosure

by Ellie Masters

  I needed to burn, and that began with a drink. Only the bar proved too much. I was too short. My voice too weak. The bartenders couldn’t see me or hear me, and my drink order landed on deaf ears.

  But I didn’t have to worry.

  My delicious stranger called out in a sure voice. “Two whiskeys, neat, and make them doubles.” His British accent carried above the crowd, brought stares, and lowered the ambient noise.

  I preferred my whiskey over ice, but I wasn’t going to make a fuss.

  Mr. Tall and Handsome traded cash for two tumblers of whiskey. Holding them in one hand high over his head, he reached for me and pulled me through the crowd. His large frame forged a path, and he headed to a staircase leading to the balcony overhead. At the top of the stairs, I expected him to head right, to an empty pair of seats facing one another. Instead, he continued around, turning up a second set of stairs, drawing me higher than I’d ever been at Club Infinity. He continued onward, passing the second balcony, and headed to the base of a third set of stairs where a bouncer perched on a stool, looking bored.

  My stranger leaned down and said something I couldn’t hear. The bouncer stood, removed the red velvet rope barring our way up the final set of stairs, and ushered us into what I assumed must be the VIP area.

  Not once did my date release his grip, and he kept the tumblers from spilling throughout. We took the stairs, climbing into an even more subdued space.

  He wandered to a leather couch tucked into a private alcove. I followed behind him, taking a moment to admire his ass and the broad expanse of his back. Trailing my finger along the brass banister, I shifted my attention below, amazed by the view. The performers looked small and different, less powerful but still fascinating.

  I felt, more than saw, his approach. Much taller than me, he easily crested six feet. His accent made me wonder if he was a tourist or a transplant. That was the thing with New York. Like me, people from all over the world had turned this place into their home. People had said I spoke funny, too. I had the slightest hint of a Southern accent most found adorable.

  “What are you thinking?” His eyes were hooded and his voice low, rumbly, and sexy as hell.

  “We’re so high,” I said, blurting out the first thing that had come to mind.

  “Are you afraid of heights?”

  His eyes locked on mine and nearly stopped my heart. The intensity of his gaze swept over and through me. He looked like he wanted to devour me, and I might have wanted that, too. My pulse went ballistic as I simply thought about what trouble we could get to while hidden up here in the heights. Shrouded in darkness, we were invisible to anyone else and were the only people on this level. With adrenaline spiking in my veins, I feigned a casual attitude, as if his very presence didn’t suck the air out of the room, leaving me gasping for breath.

  “Not at all,” I said, leaning far over the railing and lifting my arms out wide.

  I wasn’t at risk for tumbling over, but he yanked me back against six feet of unbending steel. The hardness of his body pressed against mine, protecting me from a nonexistent threat.

  “Careful there,” he said. “I’m not comfortable with you dangling over the edge like that.”

  “I wasn’t dangling.” I twisted around and wrapped my hands around his neck. “Kiss me,” I said, feeling overly confident.

  Without hesitation, firm lips pressed down on mine, and he lifted me against the hard planes of his body. Beneath his suit, I couldn’t see the defined ridges of his body, but I could certainly feel them.

  Heaven.

  He tasted like the most delicious thing in the world. I breathed him in as his lips brushed against mine. The warm scent of his cologne flooded my senses—clean, crisp, and utterly delicious. My insides knotted, and goose bumps shivered across my skin as the kiss deepened. The world disappeared, leaving us in our private bubble. My heart thundered, and I gasped for air as his lips danced over mine, sparking tingles of electricity all through my body. I gripped his arms, holding on through that kiss, and explored the hard bulges of his biceps with my fingers. It made me want to explore a little bit more.

  Feeling brave or perhaps a bit too bold, I allowed one hand to come between us. Pressing my palm between us, I traced the rippling terrace of muscles spanning his chest. A fever spread through me, a wildfire burning and firing up my pulse, but he pulled away, leaving me bereft. Canting his head to the side, his eyes locked on mine. He placed a finger over my lips.

  “Now, that was an unexpected pleasure.” His breath seared my skin.

  The pads of his fingers teased me, making me want them everywhere at once. I pried my gaze from his lips and met the darkness of his eyes. There was a tingle in my chest and a hitch in my breath.

  “Sorry, I’m not usually so…forward.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said.

  “Well, I’m actually quite shy.”

  “Hmm,” he said and then glanced down below. “Perhaps those dancers brought something out in you?”

  “I don’t think that’s how a submissive is supposed to act.”

  “Is that what you are? A submissive?”

  “Aren’t you a dominant?” I asked, feeling self-conscious and unwilling to answer his question first. Are we really having this discussion? Am I?

  Of course, I knew about that kind of thing. There was no way not to know with all the movies and flood of romance books on the market. I watched the movies. I read the books. I came to Club Infinity to watch the performers onstage. My fantasies included a lot of things, but those weren’t real. This wasn’t real.

  I couldn’t believe I’d asked him to kiss me. My nipples tightened beneath the thin fabric of my dress, shocked and a little turned on by my boldness. From the angle of his gaze, he noticed the sudden change. How could he not? I wore no bra. A wet throb pulsed between my legs, making me needy and a little scared. Can he smell my arousal like the men do in those books? How far am I willing to go? A one-night stand simply wasn’t in my repertoire, yet I’d asked a stranger to kiss me, and here I was, wanting more.

  “Titles can be misleading, don’t you think? I’d rather say I’m learning more about myself every day, and I find my desires slant a particular way.” The timbre of his voice flowed through me, hypnotic and drugging.

  “What have you learned?”

  “I enjoy control. I prefer taking the lead. I crave other things as well.”

  If he thought that comment would send me running, he had a thing or two to learn about me.

  “What? No response?” he teased. “How about, I want a woman I can break in, nice and slow, without having to be gentle or ask permission for every little thing? That there are things I yearn to do privately that some might find objectionable. How it excites me to think you might want the same.”

  “To be broken?” This conversation should be sending me fleeing down the stairs; instead, my heart raced, and my pulse pounded.

  “Cherished,” he said, cupping the back of my neck. “To bend before me. To bow to my desires while seeking yours. To give me the power I crave and allow me to take what I need.” As he whispered his desires against my flesh, his breath rustled my hair, and he dipped low to nuzzle my neck

  His brick-hard body pushed me back. One step. Two steps. He walked me all the way to the wall, away from the railing and deeper into the shadows. He hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me to his body, even as he caged me in against the wall. Then, he stroked his thumb against my bottom lip.

  His tone hardened, turning low and gravelly. “Now, tell me, is that what you want?”

  My veins hummed with everything he’d said. My knees weakened, and I could barely stand. The fierceness of my will had brought me here. I had taken his hand and led him to the bar, determined to make a choice for the evening, but somehow, the tables had turned. I found myself in an unexpected position, and it excited the hell out of me.

  A grin stretched across his face, devilish and arrogant, haughty even. He shifted closer an
d touched his forehead to mine. With his fingers gliding down my neck, he jutted his hips forward, letting me feel the swelling of his cock beneath his trousers. His breaths fanned my face, and his mouth hovered over mine.

  “Tell me,” he said, “do you like taking orders?”

  I gripped the lapels of his jacket and followed his lead, pressing my tits against his chest. “I want this.” My tongue darted out and licked the fullness of his lower lip.

  He grabbed at the hair at my nape, and we rocked together, and then his teeth gripped my lips. Mouth gliding against mine, he lashed at me with his tongue and demanded entrance to my mouth. He wrenched my head back, and I stabbed my hands in his scalp where I pulled at the strands of his hair. Shaky and more than a little off-balance, he drove me to a place I’d never been.

  The man turned me on, lighting up all the nerves in my body like no one had done before. I ached for him. My nipples tightened into hard little buds because of him. Between my legs, the most delicious ache pulsed and made me squirm.

  His powerful shoulders shook with a laugh. “Damn, but I want to devour you.”

  Would that be so bad?

  My heart swooned and dipped as he seized my lips again. I parted them as his raw desire swept him away, taking me with him. With a bruising intensity, he fell on me. There was no tenderness, no coy nips or pecks. This man took what he wanted and claimed with an intensity that was both combative and primitive. Holy hell, it turned me on.

  As his tongue chased mine, I ground my hips against the hardness of his erection, eliciting a groan from him. He palmed my ass and thrust against me, trying to rut. Punishing my swollen lips, he melted my insides, even while bringing a chill to my skin. I squirmed against him, my skin heating up. Hot and itchy, I’d never been so aroused. I ached for his fingers on my nipples, my inner thighs, and even diving deep inside my tender walls.

  “Devour me.” My voice croaked, and I cleared it.

  His pupils dilated, and he traced a finger around the corners of my mouth and then pressed it deep inside. I wrapped my lips around his finger, licked the tip, and drew it deep into my mouth. My chest squeezed, realizing exactly where we were and what I was about to let him do. Thoughts of Infidelity ghosted through my mind.

  I wasn’t theirs. Not yet. For tonight, I belonged to this man.

  Chapter 10: Slipper

  Rowan

  Between the realms of fantasy and reality, a line stretched in the sand. It was both tantalizing and terrorizing. As my tall stranger swept down for another kiss, several things came to mind.

  We were about to have sex—and not just any sex. We were about to have the kind of sex I’d only read about. A dominant man like him expected certain things, and my body rose to meet his needs. My mind seemed to have turned itself off. Nobody was up here but us. I was alone. If I screamed, no one would hear. If I say no, will he stop? I hoped so, but he was much stronger than me, and I didn’t think I’d be able to fight him off.

  No.

  Wait.

  Is that what I wanted?

  The ferociousness of his kiss transported me to a place hinted at by those dancers down below. Dominance and submission—two things I had very limited knowledge about. I didn’t have the first clue what it meant to be a submissive. Yet, here, I grappled with a stranger with needy and encouraging sounds emanating from my throat.

  Do I want to obey? He’d asked that question.

  His kisses made my mind draw a blank because I certainly didn’t want this feeling to ever stop.

  Then, his hand moved down, firing up my pulse until my heart felt like it would explode. Sparks of electricity zinged around my body, tightening my nipples to impossibly hard nubs. That power fired up a steady throbbing between my legs, driving me to want even more.

  He cupped my breast, testing the weight of my unremarkable C-cup breasts. He seemed pleased because he took time to admire them, even ran his fingers across the peaks of my nipples, drawing a strangled cry from me in response. Then, his hand trailed down, gliding over the curve of my waist and sweeping across the flare of my hip.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  His fingers feathered the hem of my skirt and then teased it up my outer thigh. My breaths turned to pants as those exploring fingers found their way around to my inner thigh. From there, they continued a relentless path toward the apex of my thighs, right to the edge of the thin lace of my thong.

  I gasped and gripped his arms hard, trying to stop him. Wanting more but suddenly very much aware I didn’t want any of this at all. That didn’t make sense to me, not with the way I’d begged him to continue.

  But I came face-to-face with a hard truth deep inside. I wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl. My conscience whispered, growing louder and more insistent, as he trailed his finger over the outside of my thong, teasing between my folds. I lifted on my tiptoes, trying to escape, but he took my movement as a sign of encouragement because he lifted the thin fabric and dipped his fingers inside.

  “No!” I screeched as I pushed him away. “Stop.”

  My cry resulted in him jerking away and stepping back, holding his hands up in front of his chest.

  “Whoa, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought…” I sniffed and rubbed my nose. “I just can’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I thought…but I can’t.”

  There was nothing to gather. I didn’t have a purse. Tucked into a well-concealed pocket, I carried three things: my ID, a credit card, and my new, shiny MetroCard. Thankful for sensible but chic shoes, I dodged around him and headed for the stairs. Running down, I surprised the bouncer. His head snapped up, and his eyes grew wide as I barreled toward him. He barely had time to unsnap the red velvet rope blocking the way.

  Using the banister to assist, I spun around the landing and headed down the second set of stairs. Behind me, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dominant took up the chase.

  “Wait,” he called out.

  The bouncer growled something, and the guy stopped in his tracks. A heated exchange transpired between them, but I couldn’t hear what was said as I continued down the stairs. I had a pretty good idea though. There weren’t too many scenarios where a woman ran from a man in a bar. Guilt speared through me to think of the accusations being placed on him right now. Because he’d acted exactly as he should and stopped when I said no.

  Shit. I felt like crap now. My steps slowed as I swept around the landing. For a moment, I considered heading up again. If only to let the bouncer know that the guy had done nothing wrong.

  My foot twisted on the stair, and my shoe fell off my foot. I stumbled down several stairs before I brought my downward momentum to a halt.

  My gut said, Keep running, but this was New York. There was no way in hell I was walking the sidewalks without shoes on both feet.

  When I turned around, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dominant was at the landing. He knelt down and grabbed my shoe while my heart thundered, and my breath nearly stopped.

  He stared at my shoe, a look of puzzlement on his face. With a slow shake of his head, he held it out to me. “You probably want this.”

  A deep breath fortified me, and I climbed the four steps to meet him. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m—”

  “Probably better you just put that on and go. I don’t know what happened, but honestly, I don’t care to know. It’s not you; it’s me—or however that goes. Either way, we obviously aren’t meant to be.” He took a step down, keeping far to the right, and put my shoe in my hand. Without another word, he disappeared around the next bend in the stairs.

  From the second-floor balcony, I watched him breach the press of people on the dance floor. He walked right through them, taking his time but beating a very determined path to the door. When he reached the door leading outside, he paused and turned around. Over an impossible distance, his gaze latched on mine, and a tiny piece of my heart crumbled.

  I didn’t even know his name.

  Putting on my shoe, I m
ade my way out of the club. He was nowhere to be seen, not that I’d expected him to wait for some crazy chick from the club. In silence, I walked to the nearest metro stop and headed home.

  Chapter 11: Client

  Richard

  The elevator to David and Evelyn’s flat opened, and I stalked through the doors, brushing my shoulders on the smooth metal in my haste to get out. Marching to their bedroom, I banged on the door.

  Yeah, it was a dick move, but I needed my buddy. Things had to change, and right now was as good a time as any.

  Just past midnight, chances were pretty good Evelyn was asleep. The woman got up crazy early to get to the hospital, but David kept night-owl hours. A grumble of protest sounded from behind the door, and I stepped to the side, knowing he’d be out soon.

  “What the ever-loving fuck?” David said from behind the door, spewing forth more curse words.

  I pitched my voice to be heard. “I’ll be at the bar.”

  While David pulled himself together, I returned to the front room and headed to the bar. I poured two tumblers of whiskey and set a glass down beside me. After swallowing the contents of mine, the smooth burn coated my throat. Alcohol headed straight to my stomach where it would absorb into my bloodstream and make me comfortably numb. I poured more whiskey and tossed it back as David strolled down the hall.

  Without a word, he sat beside me and lifted his glass in a silent salute. I clinked my thick tumbler against his, and drank.

  “Hit me up,” he said.

  Two more pours—one for him and a third for me. I was in a foul mood and intended to get drunk enough to sleep like the dead. We pounded those back, and I went to pour a fourth.

  David’s hand covered my glass. “How about you tell me exactly why we’re getting drunk?”