He was still thinking about those laughs now, just after close of business on Friday. And though it was probably a terrible idea, the moment he’d said goodbye to his assistant for the weekend, he picked up his cell and dialed Arianne’s number.
“Chateaux Noir,” he said when she answered, “makes the most exquisite Coq au vin in America. Believe me, I’ve tried them all.”
Arianne laughed, the sound immediately warming him. “Sounds divine. Is that what you’re having tonight, monsieur?”
“It’s what we’re having tonight, madame.” His meeting with Evan wasn’t until midnight—Errington had requesting a late-night rendezvous in Madison Square Park to make the exchange—and dinner with Arianne seemed like a fine way to pass the hours. “Say, seven o’clock? I’ll send a car for you.”
Her silence spoke volumes.
“It’s just dinner, love,” he said softly. “An early one, at that. We’re spending our nights under the same roof. There’s no reason we can’t enjoy each other’s company over a nice meal and a bottle of wine. I haven’t been out on a Friday night in an age.”
“Jared—”
“You’re over-thinking it,” he said. “Don’t. Just come.”
Arianne sighed, and he pictured the curve of her right eyebrow, the wrinkle that appeared when she was deep in thought. His thumb ached to smooth it out.
“I would love to, Jared,” she said. “But I can’t. I already have plans. Rain check?”
“I… I… yes, of course.” Jared stammered, completely caught off guard. Plans? As in, a date?
He tried to dismiss it, but the thought wormed its way into his brain, burrowing deep, haunting him long after he’d hung up the phone.
Jared knew it was best to let it go, to just head back to the penthouse and order takeout, get in touch with Evan to make sure they were all set for the meeting, review the final Baseline contracts his lawyer had sent over, work on his Brawler stats, test the new gaming gloves one of his programmers had sent over from R&D… anything but give in to the idea taking root in his mind.
But he couldn’t. If Arianne was seeing someone, it could jeopardize everything—the entire show they’d been putting on for Davidson. Jared was risking a lot to help her; one way or the other, he had a right to find out what she was up to.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he poured himself a shot of whiskey from the bottle he kept in his office, then a second. The alcohol burned, warming him from the inside out, settling his nerves.
One way or the other.
He picked up the phone and dialed his car service. “Send me a driver who’ll do what he’s told and won’t ask questions.”
Chapter Eighteen
After waiting across the street from Arianne’s building in a parked car for nearly an hour, Jared finally spotted his woman leaving the lobby.
She was dressed in a fitted black cocktail dress and a sheer, wine-colored wrap, her hair and makeup expertly styled. Stunning. Just like she’d been on the night he’d first met her.
Blood rushed to Jared’s head, his heart thumping pathetically in his chest.
Get angry, you git. She’s playing games.
“Do you see that woman,” he barked at the driver, pointing her out from the back seat. “Black dress, fucking gorgeous?”
The driver nodded.
“Follow her. Don’t get too close.”
The driver nodded and pulled the car out into Park Avenue traffic. They trailed her along Park down to 84th Street, where she took a right and headed west. It was a one-way street; the driver couldn’t follow.
“Sir?” the driver asked.
Jared told him to cut down 83rd Street, hoping they could beat her to the other end.
On Fifth Avenue, at the edge of Central Park, Jared exited the car. After several minutes, he finally spotted her, charging down the sidewalk toward the park entrance like a woman on a mission.
Keeping a safe distance, he followed her. He wasn’t sure why she’d walked instead of taking a taxi, but as she exited the park onto Central Park West and crossed the street, his heart sank.
Not a date. A job.
Jared knew exactly where she was heading. Just a few yards ahead of him now, she slipped away like a shadow into the building that Jared couldn’t forget, even if he tried.
It was where he’d bought the Whitfield painting, the auction where they’d first met. The building in which he’d first caught her snooping. The building in which he’d first kissed her, tasted her, commanded her willing flesh.
Clearing his head, he plastered on a charming, moneyed smile he hoped was enough to get him in the door.
It was.
The auction was being held in the same penthouse as before, but it looked nothing like the place in his memory. Gone were the bar and the high-end furnishings, the caterers and bartenders that had previously served the bidders. Tonight, the place was stripped to its barest bones, the walls stark, the hardwood floors scuffed from heavy foot traffic. There was no socializing—only the business of selling off the family’s final pieces of artwork at rock-bottom prices.
Even the security guard that had chased them off the property for their public displays of affection was nowhere to be found.
From the shadows at the back of the auction room, Jared watched as Arianne took a seat at the front, speaking to no one, looking at no one, all of her attention focused on a single painting propped up against the wall before them.
Instantly Jared understood her intent.
She wasn’t working a job after all.
Without preamble, the auctioneer began the event, selling off three small paintings and a sculpture before getting to the painting that had captured all of Arianne’s attention. One that had come to mean something to Jared, too—it reminded him of how they met.
“Adrift, by Heinrich Von Hausen,” the auctioneer said. On the night they’d first crossed paths—in this very penthouse—Arianne had told Jared that the painting of the ship on a stormy sea reminded her of her father, that she’d seen it with him on a trip to the Smithsonian as a child.
“We’ll open the bidding at five thousand dollars.”
Arianne raised her bid card, but was trumped by three others in quick succession. She tried to keep up, raising each bid by another thousand, but after seventy-five thousand dollars, she quietly tucked the card into her purse, her shoulders heavy, her head low. Jared knew she didn’t have money—not even the five grand she’d bid. No, she wasn’t here to buy it. She was here to see it off.
She remained seated, and Jared watched as the auctioneer made quick work of closing the deal, the final bid coming in at just over three hundred thousand.
Arianne nodded once at the painting before her, and then rose from her chair, dignified and aloof, heading toward the exit at the back.
Jared stepped back into the shadows along the back wall, but it wasn’t even necessary. She’d walked right past him, so closely that Jared could smell her lilac perfume, could see the tears glittering in her hazel eyes.
He caught up with her in Central Park, lingering on a bench not far from where they’d shared their first dinner together—hotdogs. The memory made him smile.
“You followed me,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes.
Standing over her, his shadow eclipsing her face, he said only, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She patted the spot next to her, inviting him to sit. “I don’t know why I came here. I knew I wouldn’t be able to buy it.” She slipped off her shoes, leaning forward to rub her feet. “I don’t even have money for a taxi.”
“You what?”
She waved the words away and asked him again to join her on the bench.
Jared sat down and put his arm around her, gently rubbing her shoulder.
“I miss him,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes I still wake up thinking he’ll be in the kitchen—like, I swear I can hear him in there, frying up some eggs and bacon, waiting to tell me
about his latest scheme.” She turned to face Jared, her eyes full of so much pain and vulnerability, it nearly gutted him. “How can I love someone who was so… so bad?”
Jared ran his thumb across her cheek, unsure what to say. She held his gaze, awaiting an answer to the very question that unsettled him for weeks, for reasons he didn’t want to consider. He shook his head, offering a gentle smile. “I don’t think love discriminates like that.”
Mollified, or perhaps just exhausted, Arianne rested her head on his shoulder, and Jared pressed a kiss to her warm, silky hair. They sat like that for a long time, looking for all the world like a pair of lovers on a date, but the truth was so much more complicated than that.
He’d fallen so hard for her, so fast, her sudden presence in his life a whirlwind that had unleashed feelings in him he’d never thought he’d know, overshadowing all else. And just as quickly as she’d arrived, she was gone, a traitor from whom he’d had to lock away his valuables—including his heart.
But sitting on a bench in Central Park, his arm wrapped protectively around her, her body leaning into him with an aching need he was certain they shared, Jared was done pretending. He missed her. He wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. And despite everything, he still loved her.
With a deep sigh, Arianne sat up, slipping out from his protective embrace and turning to face him. “I think I should probably stay at my own place tonight.”
Staring into her infinite eyes, Jared lost all sense of time, all sense of logic and reason. She was like a magnetic force, a pull he could no longer resist. Without another thought, he grabbed the back of her head and brought his mouth to hers, crushing her lips, sliding his tongue into her hot, wet mouth. She tasted so sweet, so soft, so fucking Arianne.
He’d gone so long without it that the taste of her made him instantly hard, his tongue devouring her with deep, needy strokes.
Arianne sucked in a breath, her eyes opening wide, then fluttering closed as she finally gave in to the desire they’d both been resisting for too long. God, she felt so good. So fucking right. When she moaned his name, the vibration threatened to push him over the edge.
She gripped his thighs, digging her nails into his flesh, her tongue matching the fevered thrust of his kiss.
Fuck, yes.
He wanted all of her. Her mouth biting his shoulder. Her hands stroking him hard and fast. Her perfect ass reddening beneath his commanding touch. Her toned thighs wrapped around his face as he sucked her delicious, wet pussy, her hands yanking his hair as she screamed his name…
He couldn’t take it anymore—he needed to be inside her.
“Arianne,” he panted, his senses flooded with her scent, his mind letting go of all thoughts but one. “Come home with me.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Strip,” he commanded. “Now.”
They’d just stepped off the elevator into the penthouse, and Ari wasted no time following his orders. She kicked off her shoes and slid out of her dress and undergarments easily, her body wired for his touch.
Jared took a moment to drink in the sight of her, his eyes raking over every inch of her flesh, the look on his face one of pure animal desire.
“Incredible,” he whispered, then grabbed her by the arms, backing her against the living room wall, his hands rough, his intentions clear. Ari was out of her mind with desire, her pussy wet and ready, her thighs pressed together in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure.
It was no use. She needed Jared. His hands. His mouth. His delicious cock.
He bit her shoulder until she cried out, then dropped to his knees before her, still fully dressed, pressing his face between her thighs. Ari grabbed his head and arched her back against the cold wall, gasping with pleasure as he bit her thigh, then thrust his tongue deep inside her aching pussy.
Oh my god.
She was dripping wet for him, her thighs trembling as he licked and sucked, devouring her flesh. She fisted her hands in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, harder, fucking his face until his mouth was coated in her juices. He gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, teasing her clit with hot, wet strokes of his tongue before dipping back inside her pussy.
Pushed against the wall, stark naked in the air-conditioned living room, Ari shivered. Goosebumps covered her flesh, but the sensation of Jared’s hot mouth between her thighs was incredible. Her nipples stood erect in the chilly air, begging to be touched. She ran her hands up her belly, cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples hard between her fingers as Jared ate her pussy.
Her legs were getting weak; she couldn’t hold out much longer. It had been too long since she’d felt anything so fucking good, so hot.
“Jared,” she panted, sliding down the wall, her nipples aching at her own bruising touch, “I’m almost—”
“No, darling. You’re not.” He pulled away from her and stood up, grabbing her arm and leading her to the sofa. Without another word, he bent her over the back of it, one hand on her back, his fingers tracing the knobs of her spine. She heard the clink of his belt buckle as he unhooked it, the swish of his pants falling to the floor.
Yes. Fucking hell, yes.
With the firm, commanding touch she missed, he smacked her hard on the ass, the exquisite sting radiating heat into her core. She arched her head back in pleasure as he spanked her again, then plunged two fingers inside her pussy, thrusting in deep, then pulling out slow.
“God,” she breathed. She was panting hard with desire, the scent of the leather couch filling her senses, her hands gripping the cushions as Jared drove her wild with the thrust of his fingers.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, gorgeous,” he said, stroking her. “I can’t wait to fuck you, to make you come on my cock.”
She bit her lip, whimpering at the heat in his words. She missed his filthy mouth, his masterful tone, his raw sexual appetite. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her writhe, how to make her beg, and she’d never wanted it as badly as she did right this moment.
“Please,” she said, “I can’t hold out much longer.”
“I think you can,” he said, smacking her on the ass again, then rubbing away the sting. She was nearly out of her mind, her vision blurring, her whole body tingling with electricity.
Jared continued to fuck her with his fingers, his thumb sliding backward between her ass cheeks, seeking her tight, puckered hole. He pressed against it gently, and when Ari whimpered in pleasure, he slid his thumb inside, his fingers still stroking her pussy.
She bit the leather cushion as she rocked her hips, wanting him deeper, faster, more.
“That’s it, gorgeous. Take it however you like it. I want to feel you come all over my hand.” Jared slid his other hand around Ari’s front, softly stroking her clit, his thumb and fingers plunging deeper inside, her whole body tensing as he fucked her like that, her back arching, her hips writhing, her face pressed against the butter-soft leather couch.
So fucking good…
“Jared!” With an explosive cry, Ari came, shuddering from head to toe, her body slick with sweat, her core throbbing as Jared pumped her until she had nothing left.
Ari was spent, panting against the couch. She heard Jared tear open the condom wrapper, and then, without another word, he thrust inside her, his thick cock filling her completely. She arched back and he slid in deeper, hitting her walls, making her wet and ready all over again. She pushed back against him as he grabbed her hips fucking her harder, faster. Ari matched his fevered thrusts as his cock slid in and out, in and out, faster, harder, so fucking deep. Within minutes, she felt her muscles tense again, her pussy tightening around him as she came hard, stroking Jared with her tight, wet flesh. He growled like an animal, a sound ripped from his throat, and slammed into her from behind, shuddering as he came.
Jared fell forward, collapsing against her bare back, his shirt buttons digging into her spine, his breath hot on her shoulder.
“God, I fucking mis
sed you,” he said, breathless and hoarse.
Ari laughed, wriggling against the brick wall of his chest. “You don’t say.”
Chapter Twenty
There was no more talking after that. No thinking. No second-guessing or worrying.
There was only Jared, the feel of his perfect mouth on Ari’s throat, his lips and tongue sending new ripples of pleasure to her core.
After a blissful mutual shower, they slipped between the satin sheets on Jared’s king-sized bed, intending to take their time getting reacquainted with each other’s pleasures. Neither of them had spoken since that moment in the living room, as if they’d both realized they’d crossed into forbidden territory, and even a single word would send the whole thing crashing down around them.
Now, they were relying on pure instinct. Touch. Heat.
Ari needed this—they both did. They’d been tiptoeing around it for days, passing each other in the halls of Jared’s penthouse, going to bed in separate rooms, alone and wound up. Desires unmet. Pretending that their own late-night touch belonged to the other.
Until now.
Ari closed her eyes, losing herself in the heat of his touch for the second time tonight.
It’s pure, unadulterated pleasure. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.
She repeated the mantra in her head as Jared kissed his way down the column of her throat, taking his time to cover every inch of her flesh. Her body ached to feel him inside her again, filling her, stretching her wide, but she sensed that he’d be taking his time for the rest of the night; like her, he’d missed this—the perfect rhythm of their bodies, the raw intensity of their passion—and now he’d savor it for as long as they could make it last.
Because once the sun came up, everything would end. It had to—Ari knew there was no going back to what they’d had before. Even that hadn’t been real—it was a house of cards built on a foundation of deceit. But right now, nothing else mattered. Not her lies and schemes, not her regrets, not her mistakes.
Bared to the Billionaire: The Complete Series Page 34
