Chapter 8
MASON
My fingers trail over the delicate skin of her inner wrists, and I can feel her stiffening herself against another shudder. I want to tell her not to bother. I already know her body’s reaction far better than she thinks I do. But I hesitate.
I’m not even sure who I’m hesitating for.
Her, for the skittishness she’s desperately trying to hide?
Or me, for the line I know I shouldn’t cross but can’t help caressing and toying with?
Everything she said on the deck is right.
Well… almost everything. I have no intention of taking her fast. I already did that on top of the car in Montauk.
And as much as the need pounding through me demands a fast, bough-breaking release, it won’t be that way.
Not with her.
If I end up taking her.
I told her when we first met that I won’t play any games with her. And I won’t.
But the fact of the matter is that I still haven’t picked up the phone to Hani, haven’t done anything to alleviate the diabolic edge riding me.
I’m playing a dangerous game of chicken with myself that could explode into a steaming shit storm if I’m not careful.
I know this. And yet, I let Zach talk me into this project, knowing very well it will keep me here in an environment I detest. With people I despise even more.
But not this woman in front of me.
I don’t despise her. I’m compelled by her. My intense fascination is enough to make me want to do things to her that are probably against any law in any land.
“Are you going to respond to what I said?” I ask, noting her tripping pulse with dark satisfaction.
“No. I’ve decided to let you exist in your deluded little bubble.”
I almost smile at her tart tone. She’s contrary in a way that mesmerizes me.
In another time, I’d love to break her down, piece by piece, and build her up again just the way I want her.
To do that with her now will need time, patience.
Neither of those commodities is available to me.
The strain I’m under is too much to even think about adding to it.
“Okay, princess. I’ll let you keep pretending everything we’re both feeling right here, right now, is all in my head. Which way do you want to go?” I ask, reluctantly lifting my fingers from her skin.
“I came to see the whole yacht, so it doesn’t matter which way we start, does it? And please don’t call me princess.”
I step beside her, and she has to tilt her head up to look me in the face. My gaze trails over her vulnerable neck and the pulse beating at her throat, and I admit I like the sight of it a little bit more than is healthy. “Why not?”
Her beautiful green eyes shadow before her eyelashes sweep down, hiding her expression from me. “Because I’m about as far from a princess as you can get.”
From any other person, I’d believe that statement is a coy attempt to gain my interest. From her, I believe she really means it. Just as I believe it stems from whatever pushed her into throwing herself in an icy ocean two weeks ago.
I shrug internally. I’ve never been the sort of guy who doles out pet names. Although, if I allow myself to think about it, she reminds me of an alley cat—all claws, sharp teeth and vulnerable underbelly just itching to be stroked.
It’s that vulnerability I want nothing to do with. I don’t want to know her weaknesses. The temptation to exploit them will be too great. My subtle, insidious ability to twist weakness to my advantage is the reason my mother called me a monster when I was eleven.
It’s the reason my father handed me the keys to his kingdom on my eighteenth birthday, slapped me on the back and toasted to my genius when I quadrupled the family fortune by the time I was twenty-five.
It’s the reason Cassie was a sitting duck the moment she entered my orbit. She never really stood a chance.
Thoughts of Cassie bring the clarity of mind I need. “Point taken,” I say to Keely.
Her eyelids start to lift, and I turn away, knowing the tiniest hint of interest will tip me in the wrong direction. I head down the port hallway, away from the entertainment lounges.
I enter the first room and let her wander in. As she passes me, I smell her perfume and stem the need to breathe her in like a greedy, sick fool, regardless of the fact that it’s exactly what I am.
Enough is never enough for you, is it? You have to take and take and keep taking until there’s nothing left! You know what you are? You’re fucking EVIL!
I block out Cassie’s voice and keep my eye on Keely.
She walks down the arena-like cinema, taking in each detail of the seats and the adult accessories attached to the plush upholstery. She picks up a remote and examines the buttons before she looks at me.
“Are there no privacy settings on the seating areas?” she asks.
“What’s the point? Isn’t part of the thrill of being in this room the exhibitionism?”
The room is too dark and she’s too far away for me to see if my response makes her color rise, but I see her shrug. “I’ve seen a few of the Indigo jet blueprints. I just thought clients here would be given the same options.”
“Zach didn’t design this boat. I did.”
Her head jerks up. “You? I thought you were just refitting the adult entertainment areas? From what I recall of the initial design, this cinema was already here.”
I fold my arms. “It was, from when I owned this boat.”
Her mouth drops open in that adorable way that makes me have to lock my knees to keep from moving in her direction and reacquainting myself with those lush lips. “ You owned this boat?”
I don’t respond. She knows who I am. Or at least she thinks she knows enough about me.
What she doesn’t know is that I’ve ruthlessly erased about 80 percent of my past from every known, and most unknown, databases.
Everything she’s been exposed to so far is just online fluff pieces that gossip whores find salacious.
I hide a grim smile.
If they knew the truth… if she knew the truth, she wouldn’t be standing here, running her hands over the velvet cushion like she wants to fuck it.
“Are we done here?” I ask tersely. Watching her hands move like that over the seat is making me a little nuts. And in my world, a little nuts isn’t the same as most people measure it to be.
She glances at me for a second, and I know something in my voice has thrown her. She debates whether to heed that inkling of danger, then pulls out a mini tablet to make a few notes. “I’m done here.” She throws the words out in that sexy, snappy way that makes my cock jerk to full attention again.
I walk her to the next room. She stands at the door and peers in with a look of puzzlement on her face as she glances down at her tablet. “What room is this? It’s not in the blueprint Zach sent me.”
“No, it’s a new addition. One of many, in fact.”
She frowns. “Why wasn’t I told about it?”
“What you were or weren’t told is none of my concern.
As to what this place is…” I turn and flick on a switch.
She winces a little as the room is flooded with harsh light.
I adjust the mood switch to a warm indigo and flick another switch.
A gentle sparkling mist—a late addition I concocted two days ago—starts to fall from the ceiling.
Her mouth drops open on a soft gasp as the first cloud of mist touches her face.
I watch her reaction as her tongue darts out to taste my creation.
Her eyes widen. “Wow, it tastes… incredible. Wait, it’s not poisonous or anything, is it?”
“No, it’s not poisonous and you can’t overdose on it, but it’s set on a timer.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because it can get addictive.”
A sultry smile spreads across her face, and she licks more of the mist from her lips. “I’ll say! What exactly is it?”
I watch her face for her reaction and reply, “It’s an Aphrodisiac Shower.”
“ Fuck! ” She bolts out of the spray and glares at me. “You didn’t think to tell me that before you doused me in that shit?”
“Two seconds ago, you thought it was incredible.” I study the color in her cheeks and her dilated pupils and wonder how scarlet she’ll blush when my cock is deep in her ass and my hands are wrapped around her throat.
“Fuck that. You should’ve told me.”
She heads toward me, and I curb the urge to slam my hand across the doorway to pin her against the frame so I can test if she’s as wet as she was the last time I tasted her pussy. She’d gotten so wet so fast that day that I later wondered if it was real or a fluke of my imagination.
Whatever it is, I know I should walk away, but I can’t.
I feel my near obsession with her reaching worrying proportions.
And that terrifies me. Because she thinks she knows what lies beneath my uncivilized exterior.
But really, she has no fucking clue. And I can guarantee that she won’t like what’s underneath when she finds out.
“Keely.” My tone reminds her of our agreement.
She glares harder and the urge to test her boundaries claws through me.
“Don’t give me that tone. You want me to not swear, then you tell me upfront what I’m walking into. At least tell me what you’re doing before you start flicking switches. Or the deal is off.” She tucks her bag under her arm and brushes her hand over her skin in an attempt to get rid of the mist.
“Fine,” I reply. “Then I guess I should tell you that once imbedded in skin, the aphrodisiac’s effect doesn’t wear off for four hours.”
Her eyes bulge. “What? Are you serious?”
“I don’t joke about my inventions.”
“Your inventions . You mean you designed this? I thought you were…” Her words taper off and she frowns.
“A what?”