Shut Your Eyes (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 3)

by Lee, Mandy

  ‘Seriously? No more bull-dozing?’

  ‘Well,’ he smiles, ‘maybe just a little … here and there.’ He becomes serious. ‘But habits can change and they will change. I’ve already made a start. How am I doing?’

  ‘Very well. But seriously, what have you done with Dan?’

  ‘He’s right here. Like you said.’ He taps the side of his head. ‘It just turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.’ He wafts the same hand through the bubbles, lazily, watching them part and drift. ‘I’ve learned a lot over the past few weeks.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Lobsters never stop growing and they taste with their legs.’

  I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, forcing him to look at me.

  ‘Your life came to a crashing halt, and that’s all you learned?’

  ‘Good God, no. I also discovered that cows can sleep standing up, but they can only dream lying down. The internet’s a very useful thing.’

  ‘Joking aside.’

  ‘Joking aside,’ he repeats, serious again. The hand returns to my back. ‘When something like that happens, they say it changes you. I never believed it, but it’s true. I almost lost everything when I crashed that bike. Every day’s precious, Maya. I need to slow down and smell the roses … and the sweet peas.’ He traces a thumb across my forehead, down my cheek. ‘It made me think about what’s important, and what’s not.’ He brushes the thumb across my lips. ‘I love you. You gave me my life back, and I want to make you happy. That’s all that’s important to me now, and I’ll do anything to make it happen. I won’t always get it right, but I’m going to give it a damn good try.’

  I shake my head in disbelief.

  ‘You remember asking me what this was?’ he asks. ‘In the lift?’

  I nod.

  ‘Asset stripping. Those were the words you used. And you remember my answer?’

  ‘Mergers and acquisitions.’

  ‘Working both ways.’ He points at my chest, then his own. ‘We’re in the process of merging, acquiring each other … and that involves change. You’re adapting to me … and I’m adapting to you. This is a partnership, equal in every way.’ He thinks for a moment, his lips twitching with mischief. ‘Apart from the sex.’ An eyebrow lifts. ‘That’s all mine.’

  He makes his point immediately, urging me up with one hand and reaching down with the other to position his cock at my vagina. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he guides me down, carefully, holding me in position as he enters me, and then nudges his crotch further until there’s no more space. My insides quiver, in anticipation of what’s to come. While one hand supports my left buttock, the other comes to the middle of my back. Buried deep inside, he stays absolutely still, savouring the moment.

  ‘I love being like this,’ he murmurs. ‘Completely together.’

  I slip my hands around his shoulders and lower my face to his. He opens his mouth, his soft lips accepting mine, and draws me in as close as we can get. We’re totally connected now, body, soul and mind.

  ‘Ready to make some waves?’ he asks.

  ‘Always.’

  He lifts me again, dispatching ripples of water across the bath and heat through my groin. I’m almost at the tip of his penis when his grip loosens, and I sink.

  ‘Hold on,’ he warns me.

  The hand comes away from my back. Anchoring himself against the side of the bath, he thrusts upward, slamming his cock into me with all the force he can muster.

  My muscles spasm, and I can’t help it. I give out a squeak of delight.

  ‘Kiss me, and don’t stop.’

  I do as I’m told, kissing him with a passion while he urges me up, releases my body and slams into me, repeating the process over and over again. We slide into a rhythm, complementing each other’s movements until we’re both at the edge. With waves and bubbles sloshing about us, my muscles contract, clutching at him as I ride through an orgasm. Almost immediately, he groans into my mouth, and comes inside me.

  ‘Shit,’ he breathes when I finally break the kiss. ‘Why have I never done this before?’

  He draws me in, wrapping his arms around me as we tremble our way back down from the high.

  ‘Baths,’ he muses. ‘I think I’m converted. They’re very pleasant.’

  ‘And erotic.’ I remind him, dolloping a mound of foam on his chin and sculpting another soapy beard. ‘How’s the leg?’

  ‘Fine.’

  And this time, I believe him. We sink into silence, admiring each other.

  ‘I know why you wouldn’t spank me last night,’ I say at last.

  He blinks slowly. ‘I’m not exactly a fan of pain right now.’

  My disappointment must be clear to see.

  ‘What’s the problem, sweet pea?’

  ‘I suppose you’ll want to get rid of the spanking bench.’

  He laughs, and his answer gives me a speck of hope.

  ‘I don’t think so. A spanking bench is like an exercise bike. Multi-purpose. We can always hang the washing on it.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  He’s on his front, still asleep, his face relaxed and turned towards me, an arm draped across my midriff. Lost in thought, I trace a finger across his cheek, forehead and chin, loving the feel of his morning stubble. After the whirlwind of the last few months, a sense of calm has finally settled over me, permeating every last part of my being. From the initial onslaught when I could barely see past his outer layers, through the ups and downs, the misunderstandings and secrets and revelations, I can only thank God that my body took the helm because if I’d left logic in charge, I’d never have got to this point.

  He takes in a breath and stirs. His eyelids flicker, then open. Immediately, he secures his attention on me.

  ‘Morning, sweet pea,’ he whispers.

  ‘Morning, shit head,’ I whisper back. ‘Your mobile’s just pinged.’

  He rolls onto his back, stretching out to retrieve the phone.

  ‘Lily.’ Still sleepy, he slips it back onto the side table.

  ‘What does she want?’

  ‘The usual. We’re building some apartments. North side of the Thames. She’s buying the penthouse.’ He yawns. ‘And she’s a pain in the arse, always calling me over there to query the details.’

  ‘I didn’t know you could get one-to-one consultations with the boss.’

  ‘You can’t, normally, but she can’t stand the site manager, and well …’

  ‘She’s a friend.’

  As if he’s just had the most wonderful idea in the world, he turns back to me, eyes glimmering with promise, and draws me into his arms. But behind the smile, I detect a hint of discomfort.

  ‘Your leg’s hurting.’

  ‘A little.’

  And that’s not surprising, seeing as we were at it until the early hours.

  ‘Too much sex.’

  ‘Never,’ he says sternly. ‘I told you, Maya. I’m not laying off.’

  ‘Well, you’d better take some pills then.’

  ‘In a while.’ He pulls me in tight. ‘You can distract me for now.’

  His lips close around mine, silky-soft and warm. As if the world’s about to end, he kisses me long and hard. It must be at least five minutes before he decides to come up for air.

  ‘So, what’s on the cards today?’ I ask, gasping for breath.

  ‘Sex. Lots of it. And another bath. Maybe not so many bubbles this time.’

  ‘How about a bit of small talk?’

  He bites my fingers.

  ‘Bollocks to small talk. I haven’t brought the cuffs.’

  ‘We’ve got the stockings.’

  Or what’s left of them. In unison, we glance at the chair. Once again, the stockings have been strewn over the back. Only now, after last night’s heavy-duty usage, they’re beginning to look a little dishevelled.

  ‘So we have.’ He seems to think. ‘And I still don’t know your favourite biscuit.’

  I giggle.

  �
�You’re going to have to torture it out of me.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he says dreamily, threading his fingers through my hair. ‘Small talk. I reckon we could fill an hour or two with that.’

  We sink into another comfortable silence, gazing into each other’s eyes. I could lose myself in those irises. They’re a darker blue this morning, the flecks a deep gold. I could spend forever looking at them, but the hours are slipping away and before long I’ll be starved of their company.

  ‘Are you okay?’ He traces a finger down my cheek, picking up on my concern.

  ‘I just want to stay here. I don’t want to go back to reality.’

  ‘You and me both.’ The same finger skims across my mouth. ‘We’ll sort this out, I promise. And next summer, we’ll get married … surrounded by sweet peas.’

  ‘The deal’s completed then?’

  His lips twitch. He takes in a breath, as if he’s resigning himself to something.

  ‘Not quite.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, I need to give you a full and frank disclosure. You need to know exactly what you’re getting into.’

  I thought I already did. My sense of calm eyes up the door.

  ‘Well, that sounds serious.’

  ‘It is.’

  Flummoxed, I stare at him, wondering what on Earth he’s going to come up with next. So far we’ve had the secret past and the secret wife. I’m pretty sure it can’t get much worse than that, but I should have guessed there’d be more.

  ‘No more secrets … please.’

  ‘It’s not exactly a secret. It’s just something I haven’t told you yet.’

  ‘You hoard fridge magnets.’

  He laughs.

  ‘Got me in one.’

  The laugh subsides. While his lips straighten, his eyes continue to dance with pleasure.

  ‘Come on, Dan. What is it, really?’

  ‘It’s about money.’

  ‘If you lose it all tomorrow, I’m not going anywhere. As long as we’ve got a roof over our heads and food in the cupboards, I’m happy.’

  ‘You think I’m on the verge of going broke?’ He can’t help himself. He laughs again. ‘Priceless.’

  ‘Well, why else would you bring it up?’ I ask, impatient now for him to get to the facts.

  ‘Because you need to know about the assets you’re taking on.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  ‘Go ahead, but I’m not interested.’

  ‘I’m rich.’

  It’s my turn to laugh. He might as well be informing me that he’s a man, complete with two arms and two legs, and all the other things a man usually has.

  ‘Well, d’uh … I could have guessed.’

  ‘I don’t think you know how rich.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it. But you need to know.’

  And by the look on his face, I’d say there’s no way I’m going to wriggle out of this.

  ‘Go on then.’

  He blows out a breath.

  ‘I don’t believe in putting all my eggs in one basket, unless we’re talking a relationship – this relationship – because all my eggs are right here, in this basket.’ He squeezes my waist. ‘Well, I suppose technically speaking, you’re the one with the eggs.’

  ‘Get on with it,’ I urge him, resolving not to think about that right now.

  ‘Okay.’ Another breath expelled. ‘Construction can be a fickle business, so I’ve always had a back-up plan. Just in case.’

  Fine, so he’s popped a little money in the bank, bought a few premium bonds.

  ‘I’ve got a pretty extensive property portfolio. I own a lot of places along the Thames. They’re rented out,’ he pauses, checking my reaction, ‘to other rich people.’

  ‘Right,’ I say tentatively, but I still have no idea why this is so important.

  ‘And I have an apartment here. In Tribeca.’

  Now, there’s a surprise.

  ‘You’ve got an apartment in New York?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he says dismissively, almost embarrassed. ‘I bought it a few years ago. It was cheap.’

  ‘This is mad.’

  ‘Along with the house in Surrey and the apartment in Lambeth, in terms of assets I’m worth about two hundred.’

  He falls silent. All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing.

  ‘You’re not talking thousands, are you?’

  ‘No.’ He picks at an imaginary piece of fluff on the sheets. ‘When I sell Fosters, you can double that, at least.’

  Fucking hell, my brain gurgles.

  ‘Four … hundred … million?’ I ask, dragging out each word.

  ‘Yes.’ He winces at the admission. ‘And a few more in the bank.’

  ‘But you …’

  He waits, watching me, eyebrows raised, and when I don’t go on – largely because I have no idea what I’m about to say – he fills in as many gaps as he can.

  ‘I support Lily’s charity, and a few others. I could do more. I just haven’t thought about it yet. What with Fosters, I haven’t had time. And yes, I have nice things, but I don’t go over the top. I don’t need to. I’ve got nothing to prove.’

  ‘But four hundred million. Why does anybody need to be that rich?’

  ‘They don’t,’ he answers. ‘I suppose I just didn’t fancy ever going back to sleeping in an outhouse. And maybe I went a little over the top along the way. So … now you know what you’re getting into, not that you’re getting out of it. You’re going to be a very wealthy woman, and I want you to help me decide what to do with it all.’

  I pull back a little, on the verge of hyperventilating. I knew that marrying Dan would mean the end of money worries, that I’d be free to paint for the rest of my life, but this is ridiculous.

  ‘We’ll need a pre-nup.’

  At lightning speed, he rolls me onto my back, pinning me down by the wrists and bringing his face close to mine.

  ‘There will be no pre-nup,’ he tells me, eyes steely. ‘If I fuck up, you get to take me to the cleaners.’

  ‘Are you planning on fucking-up?’

  ‘No. Are you?’

  ‘No.’ I raise my chin defiantly. I can’t believe what I’m about to say, but I need to inject a little realism into this madness. ‘But what if I do?’

  ‘Then you still get to take me to the cleaners.’

  ‘So, if I’m understanding this right, you’re putting yourself straight into a lose-lose situation.’

  ‘I see it as a win-win situation. And just for the record, neither of us is ever going to fuck up.’ He grinds his cock against my crotch, driving me crazy. ‘I have absolute faith in this. Failure’s not an option.’

  And it’s not. Whatever problems we come across, we’ll see them through together. If we can get through the present crisis, we can get through anything. I reach up and touch his cheek. He kisses my fingers before he goes on.

  ‘With that sort of money, you need to be cautious, and I want to keep you safe.’

  So, that’s what he’s getting at. Even after Boyd’s gone, he’ll still want to protect me. And I’d like to know exactly how far this is going to go.

  ‘Which means?’

  ‘Increased security at the house, new gates, a permanent guard, nothing obtrusive.’

  ‘I don’t want to be tailed all the time.’

  ‘I know. It doesn’t exactly bring out the best in you.’

  He widens his eyes, and I know what he’s referring to – my little trip to Fosters, a mobile in the Thames, a surprised Mr Sun, and a quick one in the lift.

  ‘I’ll try not to go over the top,’ he says. ‘But we’ll need to take care. I’ll make no decisions without consulting you.’

  ‘You’d better not,’ I warn him. ‘So, that’s it?’

  ‘I’d say so. Deal completed. Where do I sign?’

  ‘Wherever you like.’

  ‘How about here?’ He kisses me on
the mouth. ‘Or here.’ He moves to my throat, skimming his mouth across my flesh. Goose pimples prick into life. ‘Or maybe a little further down the page.’

  Releasing my hands, he readjusts his position, sweeping his lips over my sternum, up to my right breast, stopping to lick at my nipple and setting off a rush of tiny tremors.

  ‘About half way down,’ I prompt him.

  His lips move again, across my midriff, my stomach.

  ‘Here?’ he asks, stopping at my tummy button and running his tongue around it.

  ‘Further.’

  ‘Oh … I see.’

  With a wicked glint in his eye, he moves further down, his lips barely touching me now. But I can feel his breath, warm and enticing, leaving me super-sensitive wherever he goes. He stops at my crotch this time.

  ‘Can’t see a dotted line.’

  I close my eyes as his tongue comes to my clitoris. I buck at his touch.

  ‘Better date it too.’

  The tongue’s removed, coming back into contact with my skin half way between my vagina and my back passage before licking a line back up to my clit.

  ‘You’re wet, you filthy woman.’

  ‘Is it any wonder?’

  I get another mischievous look, and then he begins to work at me with his tongue. Slow, lazy movements encourage the knot of nerves to send out a host of messages through muscles, sinews and skin. I’m about to let out a shameless groan when I hear a bump.

  We both give a start.

  ‘Who’s that?’ I ask.

  ‘The maid?’ He gets up quickly and pulls on his joggers. ‘Maybe she’s looking for her ring.’ Slipping on a T-shirt, he waves back at the bed. ‘Stay there.’

  He opens the door and peers round the edge.

  ‘Gordon,’ he exclaims. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

  Gordon’s voice wafts through the apartment.

  ‘Good morning, love’s youngish dream. We need to talk.’

  Dan backs into the bedroom.

  ‘You’d better get dressed and come out here.’

  ‘Get dressed in what?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugs. ‘Make it up.’

  He disappears. Desperate to get out there and hear the latest news, I spring up from the bed and scan the room for possibilities, discovering nothing but the stockings and yesterday’s shirt.

  ‘How the hell am I supposed to make it up with that?’