Chapter 7
7
“ C an I be honest with you, Juliet?” Kevin asked as the elevator doors slid open.
I gave him a sideways glance. “In our world? That’d be refreshing.”
He let out a slow breath. “I didn’t mean to insult you by asking about your sisters. You’re beautiful and charming, and any man would be lucky to have you.” The elevator stopped at my floor, and he escorted me down the hall.
“But?” I asked with a wary smile, knowing from the way he inflected the sentence that there was more to it.
“It’s just that I know what I’m looking for in a wife, and I have my doubts that a meek little thing like you is suited to my needs.”
It was a test, a challenge even. It was right there in his tone—he wanted me to prove him wrong.
Kiss him! Grab him and kiss him!
Will he think I’m a slut if I do that?
Daddy needs this!
I need this, or there’ll be hell to pay.
I tried for a seductive look. “Maybe I’m not as meek as you think I am.”
When I pulled him closer by the lapels of his jacket, he leaned down, letting me press my lips to his. I’d had a few stolen kisses with men over the years, but I’d never been the aggressor, and I was unsure of myself.
His mouth was warm and soft, but there were no sparks, no intensity as I tentatively moved my lips over his. It was painfully awkward, especially because he just sort of allowed it without really participating. After a few seconds, he pulled back, then nodded like I’d just confirmed his suspicions.
He kissed me on the cheek. “Good night, Juliet.”
I slid the key into my door and pushed it open, then shut it without looking at him again. He didn’t need to see how red my cheeks were.
“No, no, no!” I said aloud, flopping down onto the bed.
I just blew it. I had one job, and I blew it!
I was an undesirable, awkward shrew who couldn’t even get a kiss right. Kevin King didn’t want me. I’d thought the guy from the boathouse wanted me, but it had been some kind of game for him. He was probably out there laughing right now, mocking the way I’d been putty in his hands.
I was so embarrassed, I wanted to pull the covers over my head and never reemerge.
I buried my face in the blankets and groaned, letting the comforter muffle the sound. When I breathed back in, I was enveloped in the scent of leather and the light, clean smell of the man from the boathouse.
His jacket.
I pulled the covers back to find it and sunk my fingers into the buttery-soft texture of it. I groaned again because no matter how pathetic it made me, the scent took me right back to the boathouse, to the rush of being alone with him and the forbidden thrill of letting him touch me in the Kennedy Room.
No one had ever made me feel like that.
Evidently, no one was going to anytime soon.
The shame fell away just enough for me to remember what he’d coaxed from my body. I hated him for being a devious bastard. But my stupid lady parts didn’t give a fuck about any of that.
I’d never had a particularly strong appetite for sex because it had never seemed worth the risk of blemishing my image, but it was suddenly all I could think of. I ached to feel alive like that again. I wanted to live in a reality where I wasn’t chum in a pool of sharks, where desire wasn’t either a weapon or a weakness.
I stripped out of my gown and climbed back under the covers. Then I slid my hand down and explored, finding the place where the ache seemed to originate. When I moved my fingers, a rush of sensation uncoiled into my belly, somehow making the ache better and worse at the same time. I whimpered, moving them again.
It always took me a long time, but it wasn’t that I’d never made myself come before. I’d just never come like that . It was like he’d unlocked something inside me, or maybe he’d just unlocked the knowledge that what I’d been doing wasn’t all my body was capable of.
I parted myself with my other hand like he’d done but was too timid to push inside, as though I weren’t allowed to touch myself like that. I was a fool for being uncertain of my own body when a stranger hadn’t been.
Meek . I was meek with my own body.
The thought ignited a wave of defiance in me. I was only meek because that’s what they’d trained me to be. If I was going to be shamed regardless, I might as well have ownership of my own body.
I thrust a finger inside myself, then added another, curling them and seeking the sensation he’d coaxed from me.
Oh…
I repeated the motion, breathless to have discovered something new.
A tap on the balcony window shattered the silence, making me jolt upright and yank my hands away.
I gasped. “What the… fuck ?”
It was Mr. Dangerous peering through the curtains and tapping again like he had every right to be there and I was being rude by not letting him in faster.
He’s a dangerous son of a bitch, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.
If I summoned security, then I risked his telling everyone what we’d done earlier—and producing my panties as evidence.
I wrapped a blanket around my nakedness, then pulled the sliding door open a crack to whisper, “One scream, and security will make your life hell.”
He caught his lip ring between his teeth and rocked back on his heels, the picture of nonchalance. “I just came to get my jacket back, but if you want me to make you scream, princess, I’m up to the task.”
I clenched my thighs together at the pictures that put in my head and opened the door the rest of the way, more worried someone would hear him than I was afraid of him.
Oh god. His jacket. I’d been so distracted by his innuendo that it took a second for the rest of what he’d said to sink in. His jacket was in my bed, tucked under the blanket like I was a pervert creeper who’d been sniffing it while I touched myself.
Because that’s exactly what you were doing.
“I don’t have it,” I said too quickly as he stepped inside the door and slid it closed behind him. “I left it on a chair downstairs, so you’ll need to check with someone from the staff.”
He rubbed his chin like he was trying to hide a smile. “How are you a Bryson who can’t lie for shit? Lying is basically in your DNA.”
I sucked in a breath. “How dare you!”
“Apologies.” He took my hand and pressed a slow kiss to my fingers, a gentle slide of lips, tongue, and teeth. It was all I could do to bite back a pathetic sound.
His mouth. I know exactly what he can do with that mouth.
He paused with my fingers against his lips and tilted his head. “Were you already asleep when I disturbed you?”
He knew . From his tone and the look in his eyes, he knew exactly what I’d been doing.
“Yes,” I said too quickly.
He narrowed his eyes. “Was it me you were thinking of?”
I jerked my hand away, my cheeks flaming. “My father said you’re dangerous. That you manipulate people by learning their secrets.”
He flashed that grin again. “Do you believe everything your father tells you?”
“Is it true?”
He sat on the end of the bed, waiting for me to object to him acting like he belonged there. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I pressed my back against the wall, staying rigid and maintaining distance between us. I didn’t trust myself after the way I’d behaved earlier.
He shrugged. “People willingly tell me secrets. If they’re then scared of what I might do with the information, that’s not my fault.”
I held out my hand. “Give my panties back.”
He narrowed his eyes in challenge. “Admit you were thinking about me when you were touching yourself, and they’re all yours.”
I managed to hold his stare. “I wasn’t touching myself.”
“You think I don’t recognize the scent of that perfect pussy? That I can’t remember what it tasted like?”
If my cheeks got any more flushed, they were going to catch fire. “Cherish the memory, dickhead, because you’ll never taste it again.”
The man was sex incarnate. Everything about him, from the way he moved to the way he spoke to the way he smiled, conjured erotic thoughts. It gave him a completely unfair advantage in a conversation.
I crossed my arms. “So how does this work? What do you want from me to buy your silence?”
He studied me. “It’s fascinating that you think hooking up with me is so beneath you that I could blackmail you with it.”
He almost looked…hurt? When he said it like that, I sounded like the asshole. He had me all tied up in knots, questioning everything.
I hugged the blanket closer around myself. “Everyone knows I’m the virgin Bryson heiress. It’s not about you. There will be consequences if I hook up with anyone except whoever my father chooses.”
He winked. “Except you did…and there weren’t…because we didn’t get caught.”
He looked around slowly, drawing attention to the fact we were shut in a room together and no one would know if we did something now. His eyes traced the outline of the blanket I clutched, reminding me I was naked beneath it.
“ This is why you’re dangerous, isn’t it?” I asked, contemplating. “You know exactly what buttons to push to keep people off-kilter.”
His eyes flashed with intensity. “One word from Daddy, and you’re so sure I’m your enemy.”
“So what’s your plan here? We fall into bed together, where I reveal my deepest, darkest family secrets?”
His voice was a low rumble. “Fall into bed with me, and I’ll make sure you don’t remember your own name, much less your family’s filthiest secrets. I don’t need you to tell me those. I was there.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Ask your father.”
I felt like a toy being passed between a pack of rabid dogs: helpless and likely to be ripped to shreds if I didn’t grow some teeth and claws of my own. I was sick and fucking tired of being the meek little thing they could manipulate—all of them, my father included.
Like he could tell I’d been pushed too far, he shook his head and turned to slide the balcony door open. Then, as if he’d changed his mind, he came back into the room, but it was only to set a card on the nightstand. The card only had a number on it.
“You ever find yourself in need of another favor, give me a call.”
He was outside, already gripping the third-floor railing to climb over, when a reckless idea struck me.
“What if I need a favor now?”
He turned back, his expression carefully neutral. “Oh?”
“Senator Macallan. What kind of leverage do you have on him?”
A grin spread across his face. “Now that is a big favor. Some gossip is cheap, but no one has dirt on the good Senator Macallan.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing what he was going to say. “Except you.”
He put his hands on the top of the doorframe, leaning just barely inside. “Are you asking this in the hope my price will be the same as last time? Because if you want me to make you come again, all you have to do is…beg.”
I sighed in exasperation, partly because he turned everything back to sex and partly because some treacherous part of me thought begging didn’t sound like too steep a price for what he could deliver. “Which part of you’ll never taste it again was unclear?”
“Darling, my tongue is hardly the only way I can make you come.”
“Goddamn it, why are we even talking about this? Do you have information I can use?”
“Naturally.”
“Name your price.”
“You come to my office tomorrow, and for six hours, you’ll do anything I ask.”
The very idea of it sent my heart racing in a combination of horror and excitement. “Fuck you. Absolutely not.”
“Fine. Enjoy your evening. Give my regards to your father.” He sketched a bow.
Goddamn it! “Three hours.”
His grin made me shiver with the kind of fear you could learn to crave. “I think you’ll find you want more time. But it’s a deal.”
He pulled out his phone and tapped through a series of screens. Then my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
“You have my number?” I said incredulously as I picked it up but promptly forgot it even mattered when I clicked into some kind of portal and skimmed through an email. “This can’t be real.”
He shrugged. “I don’t believe in faking it.”
It was what I was coming to recognize as his usual innuendo, but there was nothing playful about it. He knew what he’d just handed me, and he studied my every move to see what I’d do with it.
Holy fuck!
“Holy fuck,” I said aloud this time, my mind reeling at the email on my screen and what it would mean for the senator if it got out.
“I think I was expecting a kinky sex tape or something…”
Mr. Dangerous sighed and leaned closer. “Sexuality is sacred. I’d never use it as leverage.” He smirked. “But don’t tell anyone that.”
This was the kind of financial crime that would cause more than a scandal. If I showed this to the senator, he’d have to stop pushing to investigate King or risk losing his seat and possibly getting jail time. It was a dangerous plan that had all kinds of risks, but it wasn’t like I was actually going to release it. I just needed the senator to think I might.
I tried to picture standing in front of him and showing him the email…threatening to ruin his life with it if he didn’t do something unethical…
Who am I that I’m even thinking about doing this?
Was I scared enough of letting my father down again to do something this reckless? I thought of Jacque and realized I’d do anything to protect her.
But there was another, more selfish, layer to it. If I pulled this off, it would make me a shark, a real player in their dangerous political games.
What will you even say to him?
I played the words through in my mind, trembling nervously.
The devil I’d just made a deal with leaned against the wall, completely at ease. He probably did this kind of thing over his morning coffee without a care in the world.
“Can you…be the one to deliver the message?”
He pushed off the wall, looking disgusted. “You want me to blackmail a sitting US senator while you hide behind this innocent charade? Typical fucking Bryson. It’s time you got your own hands dirty.”
The anger in his tone made me flinch, a reminder that I was alone with a dangerous man I knew nothing about.
I wasn’t a shark. Not yet.
Like he knew he’d scared me, he let out a deep breath and allowed his mask of cool indifference to slip back into place. “Besides…they wouldn’t let me close enough to deliver the message. But he’ll be expecting you.”
Fear gripped my chest. “You already told him I’m coming?”
“No.” He smirked. “He sent for an escort.”