Chapter 5
“Good choice.” I can’t help the smile that spreads over my lips.
She says nothing. Instead, she scans the room while she nervously wrings the handle of her beat-up duffle bag. It’s as if she’s been handed a sentence and is about to be taken into custody.
Although I can sympathize with that feeling, she isn’t being imprisoned for the rest of her life. Merely a week is all her mistake will cost her. Had she been anyone else…
I have the sudden urge to touch her, but when I reach out to caress her cheek, she jumps back. Her bag drops to the floor, but she quickly picks it up.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to flinch. It won’t happen again.” Lifting her gaze to mine, she remains still. However, her breaths increase when I reach for her again.
“You’re afraid of me.” Instead of touching her, I grab her bag.
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes.”
“You have no reason to be as long as you hold your end of the bargain.” Damn it. I would like nothing more than to play with her, but she seems so terrified, her blue eyes wide, that I’m forced to restrain my lust.
One night for her to get used to the idea that she belongs to me would make things easier. What’s one night when I have six more? It will allow her to shed the fear and give in to the attraction I sense from her, even when she tries to hide it.
Against my own body’s desires, I say, “I won’t touch you tonight. You have my word. Tonight, you will sleep in the guest room.”
As if she’s just gotten a stay from execution, she lets out a breath. “Thank you.”
“But tomorrow night,” I say before she gets too used to the idea, “and every night after that, you’ll be in mine. I won’t care if you’re afraid, Andie.”
She nods. “I understand.”
I escort her to the guest room located across the main living areas of the penthouse. It’s the furthest point from my suite, which I hope gives her the sense of security she needs to calm down, even if it’s false.
Because she knows this place better than I do, and obviously, all the best hiding spots too, she automatically goes to the switches and turns on the light. I drop her bag onto the king size bed, and stare at it.
Nick went through her things before placing the bag in the back of the car. Protocol. However, I’ve never been as curious to see what a woman has packed as I am with Andie. Perhaps it’s because the few women I have traveled with have all carried a fleet of expensive luggage with them. Yet, Andie has put everything she needs in one small and very old duffel bag. I requested she bring her work “uniform” of jeans and a T-shirt. But is that all she brought?
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Where are the rest of your things?”
“Things?” She furrows her brows, those delicate lines forming between them.
“This is all your brought?”
She looks from me to the bag. “I didn’t bring that many clothes because I assumed we’d spend most of the time…” she trails off as she glances toward the bed and her tongue darts out to lick her lower lip the way she does without realizing what it does to me.
“Fuck me.” I get to her in three long strides and before she can utter a word in protest, I have her pushed against the door jamb.
With one hand braced above her head and the other cupping her jaw to hold her in place, I bring my lips crashing onto hers. She stiffens for only a moment before yielding to my kiss, because she knows it’s mine to take now.
Her mouth opens and I slide my tongue inside and taste her and it’s everything I knew it would be and more—hot, sinful and so fucking addictive. A drug like no other.
She moans as I inhale, and the sound reverberates through me. The way she responds to my kiss, her breaths coming in rapid pants, her mouth just as hungry for mine… It makes me heady and instantly drunk.
I regret kissing her even as I press myself harder against her, molding my body to hers, trapping her arms between us. Because this is the kind of kiss that can ruin a man. I’ve seen it happen to the best of them. Seen them fall to their fucking knees because of a kiss.
I’d like to think I’m better than that. Stronger. But the fact that I find it almost impossible to break the kiss sets off a blaring alarm in my head.
My heart pounds furiously as that adrenaline rush I’m always seeking pours into every cell in my body so fast it catches me off guard. The need to possess her, to fucking consume her, is more powerful than I expected.
She comes with me as I pull away, keeping our lips together a split second longer. When I peer down into her face, something inside me shifts and I wonder if that split second was enough to ruin me like those other men.
No fucking way. There’s a reason I’m at the top of the Vegas food chain. I don’t fall to my knees for anyone. Not even a fantasy come true. Not even for those big blue eyes.
Her fingers curl and I feel the sharpness of her nails dig against my chest as she looks at me with heavy lidded eyes. Tomorrow her nails will be digging into the skin of my back.
Tomorrow, I’ll be prepared for the sort of intoxication I’m in for with her.
Grabbing the tie holding her ponytail, I tug it off. Her silken strands fall in a cascade of gold over her shoulders. I bring it to my nose an inhale deeply, shutting my lids as I suck in her scent. When I open them, she’s staring at me with fascination.
“Get some rest, Andie. You’re going to need it.” I slip the hairband around my wrist and walk away.
* * *
Staying in my room, aware of her presence in my home, is hard as fuck. All night I toss and turn with images of her in my guest bed. A warm sleeping woman beneath the sheets.
I look at the clock. It’s two in the morning. If I’d done what I do every night, I would just be leaving the club. The penthouse would be empty when I arrived. I would never have seen Andie with my money and she wouldn’t be in my debt.
It was inevitable, however. She’s the reason I left early to begin with. She’s the cause of that restlessness. No one should be that tempting.
Andie might call it blackmail. I call it karma.
For the hundredth time, I bring the pink hair tie to my nose and inhale her scent. It’s the only thing that’s kept me from going back on my word and taking what’s mine now. This tiny part of her is like a tiny fix, just enough to tide me over.
Sometime between five and six, I doze off. It’s not a deep sort of sleep, more like a haze full of dreams I can’t remember. But I do know they’re all of her. They leave me with an unsated need that has my cock pulsing and my hand fisting an invisible pony tail.
I get up around eight, shower, and dress in a white button up shirt and black slacks, the pink tie neatly hidden beneath my Rolex.
As I head into the kitchen I’m hit by the smell of bacon. Sue, my private chef, is dancing as she cracks an egg over a pan.
“Sue,” I greet her.
She turns to me, offering her usual big smile. I always wondered how anyone could be so cheery this early. “Good mornin’, Gav. You’re up later than usual,” she says in her creole accent.
Moving to the coffee pot she’s already set for me, I pour myself a cup. No sugar or milk needed today. “I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Do you evah?”
Sue sets a bowl of chopped strawberries and bananas in front of me. “Eat that, boy. Then you can get the good stuff.”
I sit down at the bar, where I usually catch up on the news while she cooks. “Listen, Sue. I meant to text you last night, but figured it would be too late. I want you to take a few days off. Seven, actually.”
“Chile!” She turns back to me with the spoon in hand. “You know I have my cruise next week. I can’t take both.”
“You can. It’s on me.”
Eyeing me suspiciously, she places her hand on her hip. “Whatcha up to, Gav?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. “I just want space for the week. I’m letting my personal staff take a vacation.”
She narrows her gaze. “Has it got to do with that Ferryman shit?”
“Hush, Sue. You’re not supposed to know about that.” Damn Gunn and his big mouth. Although anyone that steps foot into this house signs a confidential agreement, I prefer not to share anything with them to begin with. Unfortunately, Gunn dropped in for some fun a few weeks ago and during his hangover breakfast binge, he became very chatty with Sue. She tends to have that effect on people.
“You know I keep my mouth.” She motions the zipping of her lips. “I know what you are. Last thing I want is to get taken out.”
I mock shiver. “I’m too scared of you to ever try that. Remember, I know what you are too.”
She throws her head back and laughs with her entire body. “You right about that, boy.”
Spearing the last piece of fruit, I say, “I have a woman here.”
Her laughter dies instantly and her dark brows pinch tightly together. “Who?”
“Anderson Burrows,” I say, because she can probably divine it anyway. At least that’s what I’ve heard she can do. Rumor has it, she’s a voodoo priestess with the power of foresight. When I asked her about it, she refused to confirm or deny it.
“Andie?” She sets my plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. “The housekeeper?”
“I caught her stealing last night.”
At this, she gives me a glare and purses her lips. “Boy, you better not be sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’. Is she here against her will?”
Ignoring her question, I say, “Go to New Orleans. See your family before the cruise. I’ll have my assistant book your ticket.”
Staring at me long enough that I begin to squirm, she gives me a smile that sends a very real shiver down my spine.
“All right.” She removes her apron.
I clutch the fork tightly in my hand. “What do you see, Sue?”
“I don’t see nothin’.” She goes to the chair where her things are and collects them. Then she laughs again. “I don’t see nothin’ at all.”
* * *
After my cook leaves me with that unsettling feeling rolling in the pit of my stomach, I decide it’s time for me to go as well.
But before I do, I put my ear up to Andie’s door, listening intently for any sign of movement inside. When I hear nothing, I place my hand on the knob, turn, and push.
Andie is still sleeping, though from the looks of it, she did battle with the covers. A night as restless as mine.
Quietly as I can, I walk to the side of the bed. I peer down at her, my body instantly reacting to her insane sexuality. She’s a nymph tucked in a nest of white fluffy blankets.
Long blond lashes rest over the dewy skin of her cheeks, her lips plump and pink beneath her little nose. Those twin lines I’ve seen before form a crease between her perfect brows, as if she’s still doing battle, fighting to remain asleep.
I want to trace her features with my fingertip, smoothing those lines and drawing it down over her face, chin, throat, to the neck of the torn spaghetti strap shirt that clings to her large breasts, yet exposes most of her midriff.
Fuck me, I want to lick her tummy. Want to swirl my tongue around her belly button before I move even lower. I want to breathe in the scent of every part of her— her chest, her legs, and every space in between.
Coming in here to let her know I’m going to work was a huge mistake, I realize as my hand hovers above her. Then, because I can’t help myself, I give in to the need to trail my fingertip over the exposed skin of her belly, and it’s like touching silk. Smooth. Creamy. Sinful.
I draw an G on her, just below her ribcage, imagining I’m doing it with my cum. A mark I hope she feels to the marrow of her bones.
Suddenly, her breathing pattern changes and I shift my attention back to her face. Blue eyes stare back at me.
Her lips part, but she says nothing. Does nothing. Like a deer caught in the headlights.
With my eyes locked on hers, I move my finger slowly up her body, catching the bottom of her shirt as I go. I drag it upward, pausing only slightly when I feel the start of the swell of her breast.
Still, she doesn’t move.
My heart hammering in my chest, I go farther up, over her right side first, before doing the same to her left. Only now do I glance at the loveliness I’ve just exposed. And it’s all mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper as I caress the side of her tit with the back of my hand.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” Her pupils dilate at the same time as her pink nipples perk up.
Before I can respond, my fucking cell phone rings. I tug it out of my pocket to find a message from my right-hand man and The Red’s vice president.
Patrick: You’re late.
I clench my jaw. “There isn’t enough time for everything I want to do to you.” Standing, I adjust my tie. “All of the staff is off for the week, so you’ll be expected to take on any extra chores they’d be taking care of. That includes cooking.”
“I’m not a very good cook,” she sits up quickly and tugs her shirt down to cover herself, which incites a frown from me.
“And I’m not picky.” I walk to the door. “Sue keeps the pantry and fridge stocked well, but if you need anything else, call the main kitchen. They can bring up whatever you want.”
“Okay.”
“Someone will be up to do an STD screening. You’re on birth control?”
Her cheeks flush. “Yes.”
“Good. I never have sex without a condom. But you… You, I really want to feel. I’ll be back around seven.”
“You’re never here that early,” she says in a panic and begins to scramble out of bed.
“That’s because I’ve never had anyone waiting for me.” I turn to go, but glance over my shoulder before I do. “Did you bring more hair ties?”
“I believe so.”
“Good. I want your hair up when I return.” And with that last order, I leave.