But all she said was, “Where did you get this?”
“Hermes?” Jared descended the stairs and joined her at the table, slipping his arms around her from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder. “It’s not for sale, if that’s what you’re on about.”
This can’t be happening.
Ari wanted nothing more than to sink into the warm comfort of Jared’s strong arms, to lean back against him and feel every muscled ridge of his body pressed against hers. She wanted him to reach up and cup her breasts, to growl into her ear and make her come with that deliciously deep, commanding voice. Maybe then she could forget about what she’d found. About where she’d come from. Who she was.
But when she finally turned around in his arms and saw his gaze—guarded, despite his teasing smile—Ari knew she couldn’t forget. She was casing her lover’s basement, and she’d come upon a piece of art long ago thought lost. One inextricably connected to her father’s death and the dreadful legacy he’d left her.
She couldn’t pretend this wasn’t happening, no matter how badly she wanted to surrender herself to Jared.
“Where, Jared,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. “Tell me where it came from. I need to know.”
Jared cocked his head, his gaze shifting from guarded to suspicious. He backed Ari up to the glass, pressing his hands against the case and trapping her inside his arms.
Without speaking, Jared narrowed his eyes, assessing. Ari’s heart still rattled in her chest, the voice in her head screaming for her to forget about Hermes, about the LaPorte, and to just seduce her way out of yet another sticky situation with Jared.
But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this go.
“Tell me,” she pressed.
After a beat, he finally spoke. “I don’t know what your interest is, Arianne, but obviously you’re upset about this.”
She didn’t need to confirm it—every muscle in her body was tense, spring-loaded as if she might bolt out of there. She was practically vibrating.
“Clearly we’ve got some things to discuss,” he said.
“Agreed.”
“It’s settled then,” he said, the hint of his rakish smile finally breaking through again. “You’ll stay the weekend.”
Disarmed. That’s how Ari felt. Despite her racing heart and all of the mistrust between them, Jared’s smile, his breath, his touch, everything about the man drained the fear and tension from her body, replacing it with happiness and desire.
“Something tells me this isn’t about what we need to discuss,” she said, pressing her hand against his firm chest. “You’ve got ulterior motives, Mr. Blackwell.”
Jared leaned in close, dragging his lips down the long column of her neck, pressing a hot kiss into the hollow of her throat. “And you’re avoiding the question, Ms. Holbrook.”
Ari would never tire of hearing her name on his lips. Her list of regrets was growing exponentially by the hour, but now she decided that telling Jared her name was not one of them, no matter how risky it had been.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she breathed.
“I should hope not. It’d be futile, I assure you.” Jared fisted her dress in his hands, slowly lifting it to reveal her legs. The cool basement air teased her skin, casting her flesh in goose bumps even as Jared’s every touch flooded her core with molten heat. “I can be very persuasive, Arianne.”
Ari sighed, her eyelids fluttering closed as Jared slipped his fingers inside her panties. He was totally distracting her, leading her dangerously away from her purpose, but she couldn’t help herself.
She wanted his touch. Craved it. Needed it.
“Always so ready for more,” he whispered, nipping at her earlobe. “I love that about you.”
“It’s your fault,” she said, rocking her hips forward. “The way you touch me… you make my—”
Jared claimed her mouth in a violent kiss, spearing her with his tongue, swallowing the rest of her words. He devoured her, teasing and biting, sucking on her so hard she was certain he’d draw blood.
But despite the hunger in his kiss, his fingers were feather-light between her thighs, caressing her swollen clit with all the ferocity of a soft breath.
The contradiction between the two sensations was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Instinctively her hips thrust forward again, but Jared pulled back, teasing her with slow, agonizing circles that seemed to hover rather than touch, yet somehow still radiated pleasure throughout her core.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and Jared finally broke their kiss, his breath warm and heavy against her skin.
“Tell me how it feels,” he said.
“Torturous,” Ari groaned. She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling every silky sensation against her skin, threatening to send her nervous system into overdrive. “I can’t take it. I want you inside me.”
“Not this time, love. Just relax.”
“I’m… I can’t.”
“Shh. Just focus on my touch.” He slowed the exquisite torture of his circling. “Focus on the way my skin feels as my fingers slide into you.”
At his words, Ari closed her eyes, heat gathering between her thighs, an intense pulse that rippled outward in the path of his touch. He slid two fingers inside her, slow and deep, then pulled them all the way out again.
Her thighs clenched at the loss. “Don’t stop.”
“I’ve no intention of stopping, love.” Jared slid inside her again, the same slow, deliberate tease, ghosting across her throbbing clit with his thumb. It was nothing like the commanding thrusts she was used to with him—nothing like the deep, hard strokes she craved.
But holy shit, it was exquisite.
“Jared,” she whispered. Or maybe she didn’t; her body was humming with so many pleasurable sensations Ari couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even tell if she was speaking out loud or merely watching the words float through her mind.
As Jared slid a third finger inside her, stroking and teasing, a deep and delicate pleasure was building, slowly cresting.
Her head rolled back, eyes still closed in sheer bliss, thighs trembling. “Right there,” she said, sliding down over his fingers. “God, right—”
“No. Wait.” Without warning, Jared pulled his hand out of her panties and dropped to his knees. Just as she felt the loss of his divine touch, he was back, pressing his mouth between her thighs, his tongue swirling against her clit through the silk of her panties, bringing her right back to the edge.
The pleasure continued to build, sending tingles up her spine and across her scalp. Jared groaned against her, the hot vibration threatening to shatter her.
“Oh God,” she whispered, fisting his hair in her hands, every muscle in her body clenched in anticipation of the release she could no longer hold back. “Jared, oh God! I can’t… don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”
As the heat between her thighs built to an impossible crescendo, Jared tore the panties from her body and plunged his tongue deep inside.
Ari came with a shuddering cry so deep, so guttural, she didn’t even recognize the sounds escaping her own mouth. Jared had such an ungluing effect on her; never before had she been so free with her body, her reactions, her needs. She couldn’t get enough of him, and she didn’t care how obvious she’d been about it. Despite the twisted circumstances of their meeting, of her presence at his home in Annandale, she trusted him with her desires. Her pleasures.
The feeling was addicting. Dangerous, but addicting.
When the room fell silent again, Jared caressed her thighs, gently kissing his way down to her knee, then back up to her belly, slow and soft, finally releasing her dress and letting it fall back into position as he rose to her level.
By the time her thighs stopped trembling, Ari had nothing left. She collapsed against the glass case behind her, Jared’s muscled arms catching her before she slipped to the floor like a pile of silk.
Holding her firm against his chest, their heartbeats synced in a rhy
thmic dance, Jared pressed his lips to Ari’s neck. “Does this mean you’re staying?”
She couldn’t form words yet, so she didn’t respond, savoring the strength of his embrace, the powerful thump-thump of his strong, steady heart.
He didn’t push, just waited patiently as she came back down to earth, one soft breath at a time. When she finally regained her senses, Ari pulled back slightly and met his eyes.
Jared smiled, running his thumb over her eyebrow in a gesture so sweet and tender it made her throat tighten.
“Hmm. What does that look mean, I wonder?” He clucked his tongue softly, still tracing her brow. “I haven’t spent enough time with you to decipher them all yet.”
Ari’s ridiculous heart skipped a beat at that “yet,” a word of potential and promise and all the things she shouldn’t—couldn’t—want.
“It means yes,” she said. “I’m staying with you. You win.”
Jared laughed. “If we’re going to spend any more time together, there’s something you should know about me.” He leaned in close, whispering in her ear. “I always win, love.”
Ari smirked at his cockiness, but she couldn’t help but notice the tinge of relief in his voice, as though he’d feared she might turn him down.
As much as she adored the powerful command he had over her flesh, Ari was really beginning to enjoy Jared Blackwell’s vulnerable side.
Jared Blackwell. Fuck.
As his name floated blissfully through her mind, Ari was reminded rather un-blissfully of the reason she was here in the first place.
“So,” she said, tapping the glass behind her. “Since you’ve got me here for the whole weekend, will you tell me the story behind our boy Hermes?”
The look on his face shifted from flirtatious to guarded again.
“Tell you what. I’ll make a deal with you.” Jared nodded toward the upper floor, where sounds of revelry still floated through every room. “As soon as I clear these wretched people from my home, I’ll fix us a nightcap, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know about Hermes and the rest of my collection.”
“Deal,” she said, relieved.
Jared slipped his hands behind her neck, brushing her lips with a kiss that felt both delicate and possessive. But in his eyes, a dangerous spark lingered. “You haven’t heard the rest of the terms, Arianne.”
Ari swallowed, her mouth going dry. “Terms?”
“Think of it as a confessional,” Jared said. “I’ll tell you about the art. And you, gorgeous…” He leaned in close again, the deep tenor of his voice vibrating across her skin. “You’ll tell me why you’ve spent most of the evening prowling around my house like a common thief.”
Chapter Three
“Do you know who I am?” Jared asked. They were finally alone, sipping cocktails in leather chairs before a roaring fire in the parlor, and he’d intended the question to sound every bit as pretentious as it did.
But instead of scoffing, Arianne simply nodded.
“But I didn’t know that you were him,” she said. “He. I mean, that Jared Blackwell was you.”
“There are quite a few people involved in our little drama,” he said, enjoying the blush that crept across her neck when he spoke. He wanted to put his mouth on her flesh, trace the path of heat with his tongue.
Damn, he wanted his touch to be the reason she blushed, not his words.
But he couldn’t touch her again. Not until he knew what she was up to. What she was after.
“I just meant that I know who Jared Blackwell is,” she said. “At least, the parts I’ve read about in the—”
“Ahh, the tabloids. The great journalists of our time.” Jared sipped his cognac, letting the alcohol burn away his shame. He was foolish to assume she hadn’t read about him. The woman knew everything there was to know about the art world, and she obviously had connections. She’d probably searched his name on her cell phone browser mere minutes after he’d properly introduced himself in the garden house bedroom, if only to confirm the rumors.
“Jared, I didn’t—”
“I really wish you hadn’t brought that up,” he said. Thinking about the tabloids reminded him of his ex, the brutal sting of her betrayal not yet old enough to be a distant memory.
Now, Arianne scoffed. “For your presumptuous information, I don’t read tabloids. I was going to say newspapers. As in, business journals. And I was also going to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, that I didn’t know that you—the man I’ve been having the most amazing, delicious sex with—were Jared Blackwell, CEO of FierceConnect, acquirer of media companies great and small.”
“I suppose I am rather impressive on paper.” Jared laughed, cocking an eyebrow in a weak attempt to mask his own insecurities. “Now that you know my secrets, do you still think the sex was—”
“Delicious?” she said, drawing out the word. Her eyes glittered in the firelight, the glow of the flames catching every shade of auburn in her hair. “Oh, yes,” she continued, her voice like liquid heat. “Very much so. In fact, I’d like to do it again soon.”
She bit her lower lip and raised her brow, a look so sexy Jared nearly jumped on her right there. He was mesmerized by her eyes, her lips, the curve of her jaw. The soft flick of her tongue against her teeth…
Luscious. That was the word. Everything about her was fucking luscious.
All the more reason to be on his guard.
Jared tried to channel Evan, the voice of reason.
Stay focused, you git. Ask her what she’s up to.
“Why do I get the distinct impression you’re trying to distract me?” he asked, shifting in his chair to relieve some of the pressure of his ill-timed erection.
Arianne shrugged, sipping her gin and tonic. After a beat, she said, “Distract you from what?”
“From why you’re here.”
“You invited me.”
“I’m talking about the fundraiser.”
“We already covered that.”
Jared needed a different approach. He set his glass on the end table between them and leaned forward, steepling his hands in the pose he’d used at hundreds of board meetings. “Humor me. Let’s assume for a moment that I’m not Jared.”
“How can you not be Jared?” she asked.
“Just imagine it.”
“Who are you, then?”
Flustered, he said, “I’m… I’m Bob Smith, right? And we’ve never spoken before this moment. So tell me, Ms. Holbrook, why were you attending Jared Blackwell’s fundraiser?”
Arianne uncrossed her legs, taking her time in a way that threatened to completely derail the conversation. She sipped her drink—once, twice, three times—then set it down on the table beside his, tracing the rim with her finger. After an agonizingly long pause, she said, “My company supports the Children’s Museum, as I told you earlier. Right before I took your cock in my mouth, Bob.”
“Christ, woman.” Jared laughed, but her words had the desired effect. His cock stirred at the memory, and with the house empty and the fire crackling before them, Jared was beginning to wonder why he was wasting such a perfect moment grilling her about her chosen profession when he could be driving his cock into her wet, willing flesh…
Snap out of it, you git. Evan’s voice was harsh in his mind.
“Look, Arianne. I want to trust you,” he said. “As far as anyone can trust a beautiful woman whose very presence drives him mad with lust.”
She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, but her lips curved in a delicate smile. It was impossible to stay on guard with her.
“But,” Jared continued, “every time our paths cross, you seem to be lurking in the shadows. Sneaking, to be precise.” Jared picked up his glass again, sipped his cognac.
Still, she didn’t offer an explanation.
“Okay. Answer me this, Arianne Holbrook,” he said. “A simple question. Art consultant—truth or lie?”
This time, she met his eyes dead on, unflinching. “Truth.”
&nb
sp; “How did you get involved in the art world?”
“Truth?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“My father,” she said, her tone so plain and earnest that Jared knew without a doubt she wasn’t lying. “It was just the two of us—my mom split early on. I used to go with him to auctions and parties just like this one, tagging along and… well, snooping, I guess. I loved looking at other people’s art collections. He knew that about me, and taught me everything he could. Paintings, statues, sculptures, tapestries… I wanted to know everything, and he always indulged my curiosities.”
Something flashed in her eyes that startled Jared—something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. There was a fondness there when she spoke about her father, but a resentment, too. A coldness. Jared wondered if the man was still alive, and if so, what their relationship was like now. But before he could ask, the darkness passed, and she was flashing that disarming smile once again.
“My father loved art. That’s why… I guess I inherited that from him. Everything I am, it’s because of him.”
Again her eyes filled with that strange and bitter darkness, rising up and vanishing just as quickly.
“He’s passed on?” Jared asked, realizing now that she’d been speaking of her father in the past tense.
Arianne nodded, picking up her glass again. “Five years ago. I still think about him every day, though. In some ways, it’s like he’s still here.” She drained her drink, then said, “I guess that’s why I do what I do. What you call sneaking. It sounds crazy, but it’s like… if I run across a piece he loved, or one he taught me about… I don’t know.” She blinked rapidly, obviously trying to keep her tears at bay. The sight punched Jared right in the chest, and he had to restrain himself from reaching out to her, from pulling her into his protective embrace.
“Maybe I’m just looking for something,” she whispered. He could barely hear her above the crackling fire. “A connection, you know?”
Jared nodded. “Adrift.”
Her eyes widened.
Bared to the Billionaire: The Complete Series Page 13
