3. Chloe
Chapter 3
Chloe
I ’m caught off guard when a fight breaks out right in front of me, and I find myself rooted to the spot in complete shock. Punches are being thrown left and right, but thankfully, none have connected with me yet .
It’s only a matter of time before they do, though, so for my own safety, I will my legs to move. But before I can take a step forward, big, strong arms slink around my waist, and I find myself being lifted off the ground and thrown over somebody’s broad shoulder.
What the hell!
Could this day get any worse?
A few minutes ago, I was sitting there minding my own business, having a pity party for one, and feeling completely dejected. Now, the only white blouse I own is soaked with cranberry juice and vodka, and I’m being manhandled by some baboon whilst being ejected from the bar for a fight I had no part in.
I didn’t ask either of those guys to buy me a drink. I know the score and the expectations that come with that. It’s why I choose to always pay for my own … if and when I can afford it, that is .
I knew this bar was a high-class establishment going in, but almost twenty dollars for a shot of spirits mixed with some juice and a wedge of lime, is highway robbery. Hence why, I savoured every sip; I could’ve bought an entire bottle of cheap vodka for that price.
“Put me down, arsehole,” I shriek as I clench my free hand into a fist and bang it against this guy’s suit-clad, rounded backside.
His response is to slap an opened palm hard against my left butt cheek, which only causes my anger to rise. How dare he! I growl and start kicking my legs in protest, but he doesn’t relax his hold on me or set me down.
I’m expecting to be deposited outside, on the street, and mark my words, I’ll be giving this douchebag a piece of my mind the moment I’m back on my feet. But I’m left bewildered when I suddenly find myself inside a confined space instead. From my upside-down position, it looks suspiciously like an elevator.
Is he going to take me to the rooftop and throw me over the edge? It’s a tad extreme if that’s his plan.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, and my confusion only intensifies when he slides me down the front of his hard body, and I get a glance at my captor. It’s not security, like I first thought, it’s him! The man from the window.
Naturally, I knew he was inside the bar when I entered; that’s why I consciously chose not to look in his direction. All I wanted was a few moments to drown my sorrows before returning home to resume living my hellish existence.
My lips are thin as my light-brown eyes lock with his dark ones, which no longer look black now that I’m standing this close. If I’m not mistaken, they’re alight with mirth, and that bemused grin he’s sporting only confirms it. Is he silently laughing at me ?
My hands move to my hips. “Does this situation amuse you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Not at all,” he retorts matter-of-factly, and his deep baritone voice echoing off the walls in this confined space, sends an unwanted shiver coursing down my spine. “However, your feistiness does.”
“Do you blame me?” I screech. “How would you feel if a stranger manhandled you?”
He arches an eyebrow and steps closer, backing me further into the wall. “If that stranger were you, I wouldn’t have an issue with it.”
His response surprises me. Despite the sense of danger that seems to shroud his entire presence, there is no denying he’s an extremely good-looking man. I bet he’d be sensational between the sheets too.
He exudes confidence, to the point he almost seems cocky, but there’s something appealing about a person knowing what they want and not being afraid to go out and get it. Under any other circumstance, I’d be all in for a man like him.
Due to my minimal free time, I’m not the relationship type, but I have occasionally hooked up with someone for a no-strings-attached good time. Like everyone else, I still have needs.
Irrespective of my inner thoughts, I raise my hand and poke him in the chest, and something unexpected happens. He smiles. A full megawatt, toothy smile … and damn, it’s disarming. Even brooding, this man can turn heads, but witnessing this side of him has moisture flooding my underwear. It’s been a long time since anyone has affected me so instantaneously.
He continues to grin as he stares at me, so I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. I’m not intimidated easily, but something about this man has me raising my guard, maybe higher than I’ve ever raised it before. I think it has something to do with the way he looks at me. It’s like he can see into the depths of my soul, which makes me very uncomfortable. I keep my cards close to my chest for a reason.
I’ve learned many valuable lessons from the hurt I’ve experienced in the past thirteen years. The tough times have hardened me to the point that I no longer let people get close enough to inflict pain. I stopped needing people a long time ago.
Without breaking eye contact, he pulls a plastic card out of his suit jacket pocket and reaches around me to swipe it against the panel on the wall. I react only when the carriage slightly jerks and begins to move.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking you to get cleaned up.”
His words remind me of the drink that guy spilled on me, and I wince when I glance down and see the sizeable reddish stain on my blouse.
My eyes flick back to the man before me, and I see he’s now focusing on the same area. More specifically, my hardened nipples that are trying to poke their way through the thin fabric of my blouse.
“I’m cold,” I lie, folding my arms across my chest. Naturally, the damp fabric isn’t helping, but if I’m honest with myself, my body’s reaction is due to him.
His eyes snap back to mine. “Are you, though?” he asks accusingly.
“There was ice in that drink … and the air-conditioning in here isn’t helping my plight.”
He barks out a laugh as the gorgeous smile on his face grows. I’m glad one of us finds this situation amusing.
I purse my lips, turning my face away because I hate being called out on my bullshit .
“Don’t,” he utters, placing his forefinger under my chin and turning my attention back to him. “Your body’s natural response to me is nothing to be embarrassed about.” He bridges the small gap between us, pressing his torso firmly against mine. “I can assure you, this—” He juts his hips forward, digging his erection into the base of my stomach. “—is all you, Tesoro .”
He just called me sweetheart in Italian, and as much as I don’t like it, I shamelessly swoon a little on the inside.
My breath hitches in my throat when his thumb reaches up to skim along my bottom lip, dragging it down slightly as it goes, and it leaves me pulsing with need.
It’s been months since my body has had a release, and unfortunately, I’m wound up tighter than a clock, which isn’t helping in this situation.
His digit pauses at the corner of my mouth before it continues the journey by gently gliding across my cheek. “Your skin is so soft, bella, ” he murmurs.
I can feel his warm breath ghost over my skin as he brings his face forward, and for a split second, I almost consider letting the incoming kiss happen, but just before his lips connect with mine, I turn my face to the side.
It’s a sobering thought to realise I actually want to kiss him, but I’m grateful I held firm. I may have hooked up with men in the past, but kissing is a hard limit for me. It’s too intimate.
I don’t do intimacy.
He draws back slightly, and when I turn my attention back to him, his eyes scan over my face. His reaction shows me he’s not used to being rejected.
“You don’t want this?” he asks, confused.
Do I?
I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.
Who wouldn’t want this man ?
“I don’t want to kiss you, but …”
“But what, Tesoro ? I need your words.”
“I …”
“It’s okay to say no. I’m not going to bite you if you do.”
I don’t recognise the person I am at this moment. Shy and meek are two words you wouldn’t use to describe me. If you’ve lived a life like mine, you develop toughness, even if some of it is bravado.
“Maybe I like being bit,” I retort, finally snapping myself out of this weird trance I’ve been in.
His eyebrows jump, and that smug grin returns. “I plan to do a lot more than bite you,” he says, sliding his arm around my waist and tugging me closer.
I’ve never liked being manhandled, but there’s something hot about his possessiveness.
When his lips move to my jawline, I tilt my head back to give him better access. He’s free to kiss every inch of me, just not my mouth.
He alternates between nibbling on the fleshy parts and placing open-mouthed kisses down my neck, and my body tingles with anticipation.
“What’s your name?” he murmurs against my skin.
“Umm …”
My reluctance to answer has him drawing back again. “You don’t know your own name?”
I frown. “Of course, I do.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’d rather not say.”
This has him cocking an eyebrow. “First, you don’t want me to kiss you, and now, you don’t want me to know your name. Should I be concerned about this?”
“Not unless you’re one of those whiny men who get their feelings butt hurt over trivial things.”
“I can assure you I don’t, but I’m about to stick my cock deep inside you, and I thought it would be ungentlemanly of me not to at least ask.”
This time, I laugh, but before I get a chance to respond, the elevator abruptly stops, and the doors open.
He clears his throat and retreats a step before reaching for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. I can’t remember the last time someone held my hand this way. Like kissing, I find it too intimate, but I like it enough not to pull away.
He leads us down a long corridor, pausing by a door and staring at it briefly before continuing until we reach another one at the far end. He shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out the plastic card he used in the elevator, swiping it over the black box on the wall.
I should be alarmed that I’m being whisked away to his room, but for some reason, I’m not. I’d hoped the overpriced drink I bought earlier would help take the edge off my shitty day, but unfortunately, it didn’t. Maybe an orgasm or two from this mysterious, handsome stranger might do the trick.
I don’t know anything about this man, and frankly, I don’t want to, but I get the feeling I’m in for the ride of my life.