Benny’s beautiful brown skin looked marvelous against the pale yellow shirt draped onto his muscled frame. Confidence poured out of Benny in every aspect of his life. Totally optimistic. I wish I could be more like him. I was giving it my best shot, but let’s just say my best shot at it sucked.
“So this Ethan bloke is trying to get all up in you, huh? I saw how he watched you, Brynne. He never stopped looking,” Ben muttered, “not that I blame him.”
Benny’s always been sweet like this. My go-to guy when I need a shoulder. He’s nosy, though. I’d tried all night to keep the conversation focused on his photography and gallery show, but he kept steering the talk back to Ethan.
“Yeah, well he has a way of getting the upper hand, and I don’t like it, Ben.” I dipped my French fry—that I refuse to call a chip—into some ranch dressing and popped it in my mouth. “And thanks for making an honest woman of me tonight.” I ate another fry. “I told Ethan I had plans, which was a total lie until you called.”
Ben pointed a fry at me and smirked. “So that’s why you nearly jumped me through my mobile.”
I took a swig of my Sheppy’s cider, no longer hungry for the burger and fries. “Thanks for the invite, my friend.” Even to my ears I sounded like a bore.
“Well why don’t you go out with him? He’s hot. He wants you badly. He can certainly afford to show you a good time.” Benny picked up my hand and pressed his soft lips to my skin. “You need to have a little fun, luv. Or a good shag. Everybody needs to get some once in a while. How long’s it been?”
I snatched my hand from him and took another swig of Sheppy’s. “I am not talking about the last time I got laid, Ben. Boundaries much?”
He gave me a patient look. “You definitely need an orgasm, darling.”
I ignored his comment. “He’s just so—well I—he’s—the man is so dang intense. His words, the stuff he does, the raised brow, those blue eyes—” I pointed my finger at my head like a gun and pulled the trigger. “I can’t think when he starts in with the commands.” I noticed Ben had pushed his plate away too. “You’re ready to go, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Let’s get your sexually frustrated vagina home. Maybe you can have a date with your vibrator and that will help.”
I kicked Benny in the foot under the table.
During the cab ride to my flat I thought about last night in Ethan’s car. I obviously felt comfortable enough to fall asleep. That had been a total shocker. I never did stuff like that. Ever. With my history, letting my guard down with strangers was not on the menu, especially the sleeping thing. So why had I done so with Ethan? Was it his gorgeous looks? I’d only really seen his face, but I could tell he was built underneath the silk suit. The man had the whole package working for him. Why me when he could certainly have anyone he wanted?
“So you’re booked for a studio shoot tomorrow at Lorenzo?”
“Yeah.” I hugged Ben. “Thanks for the referral, honey, and the dinner. You are the best.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Vaya con Dios, you sexy man.”
“Love it when you speak Spanish to me, darling!” Benny motioned with his hands toward his chest. “Keep it coming! I want to impress Ricardo next time he’s in town.”
I left Ben in the cab with a smile on his face, blowing a kiss. I headed up to my little flat that I love and adore, was in my shower in under five minutes, and in my pajamas another ten after that. I’d just put my toothbrush in the holder when my phone went off. I looked at the display. Crap. Ethan.
I hit accept and gathered the courage to speak. “Ethan . . .”
“I like when you say my name, so I suppose I’ll forgive you for hanging up on me today.” His slow, elegant Brit voice settled over me, heightening my awareness of his maleness and the promise of sex instantly.
“Sorry about that.” I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. I still hadn’t agreed to go out with him, though, and we both knew it.
Finally he asked, “So how were your plans tonight?” I could just picture that mouth of his in a firm line of annoyance.
“They were fine—good. I just got in actually . . . from dinner.”
“And what did you order at your dinner, Brynne?”
“Why must you know, Ethan?”
“So I can learn what pleases you.” And just like that he did it again! Taking my defensiveness away with a few small words and dripping of sexual innuendo as always. And making me feel like a cold bitch.
“I had a garden burger, fries, and a Sheppy’s cider.” I felt myself relax a little and softened my tone.
“Vegetarian?”
“Not at all. I love meat—I mean—I eat . . . meat . . . all the time.” Dear Lord. The brief feeling of relaxation vanished instantly and I was back to tripping over my words like a teenager.
Ethan laughed into the phone. “So a good selection of meats and Sheppy’s on the menu will do it for you?”
“Hey, I never said I would go out with you.” I closed my eyes.
“But you will.” His voice did something to me. Even through the phone, without sense of sight, he compelled me to want to agree just to see him again. To look at him again. To smell him again.
I groaned into the phone. “You are killing me here, Ethan.”
“No,” he chuckled softly, “we’ve already established that I’m not a serial killer, remember?”
“So you claim, Mr. Blackstone, but know that if you do kill me, you’ll be number one on the suspect list.”
He laughed at that and the sound of him made me smile. “So you’ve been talking about me to your friends then?”
“Maybe I keep a secret diary and wrote about you. The cops will find it when they search my flat for clues.”
“Miss Bennett has quite the flair for the dramatic. Did she take acting lessons in school?”
“No. She just watched a lot of episodes of CSI.”
“Okay, I am getting the whole picture now. Meat, Sheppy’s and Crime & Investigation Network. A nice eclectic mix you’ve got going for you . . . among other things.” He said the last part very softly, the suggestion in the words hitting me directly between my legs. “So where do I collect you tomorrow after your photo shoot?”
“It’s a studio shoot, so the Lorenzo Agency, tenth floor of the Shires Building.”
“I’ll find you, Brynne. Send me a text when you’re finished and I’ll be there. Goodnight.” His voice changed, sounding more abrupt.
I heard a click and then the dial tone, realizing that Ethan had ended the call this time. Payback for earlier? Maybe. But as I got into my bed and rehashed our conversation in the dark, I became conscious of the fact he’d gotten his way again. I had a date with Ethan tomorrow night, and I’d never really agreed to go.
• • •
I sent the text to Ethan as Marco looked through the images. I’d worked with Marco one other time and I liked him a lot. Based in Milan, he liked classic poses reminiscent of the thirties and forties.
“You are magnificent in these, bella,” Marco told me with that beautiful Italian purr. “The camera is your friend.”
“It was nice. Thank you, Marco.”
I still had to get ready and headed for the dressing room. I tried not to fuss over my appearance, but Ethan was so damned handsome. I was just . . . me. I knew I had a decent figure. I kept it that way, and my body was my livelihood at the moment, so I took care of myself. And I’d had plenty of attention from boys growing up. Too much attention. But I wasn’t beautiful. I had long, straight, light brown hair, nothing special. My eyes were probably the most unique thing about me. The color was odd—sort of a mixture of brown, gray, blue and green. I’d never known what to put on my driver’s license back home. I went with brown.
I opened my bag and slipped off my robe. Being it was nearly summer, and I assumed tonight would be casual at the end of a workday, I’d chosen clothes that would be forgiving of the time spent in a sports duffel—flax linen drawstring pants, a black, silky sleeveless top and black leather flats. I slung my favorite green cardigan over my shoulders and gave some attention to the rest of me. I brushed my hair out and went with a ponytail wrapped with a strand of hair around the elastic. Next, makeup, and it wouldn’t take long. I rarely use much more than mascara and blush. Some lip gloss and a spray of my perfume finished me. Good to go, Brynne.
I pushed the call button at the elevators and waited. Ethan didn’t say where to meet exactly, and I figured the lobby would be fine. He seemed to know the city like the back of his hand.
Marco walked up and gave me a hug in farewell. He was a demonstrative guy, always hugging and kissing twice on the cheek in that Euro way that made it acceptable for him—and made the American me a sucker for it. I can admit to being fully charmed by the kind of courtly behavior rarely displayed in my native land.
I hugged him back and offered my cheek. Marco pressed his lips to my jaw right as the elevator doors opened and Ethan stepped out, glaring, his beautiful face set in a hard line.
I stumbled back from Marco’s embrace and felt Ethan’s hands catch me, latching onto my waist. “Brynne, darling, here you are.” Ethan drew his arms up from my waist to wrap loosely around my shoulders, effectively pulling me away from Marco and right up against the front of his body. His very hard and muscled body. I could feel Ethan’s stare on Marco and knew I needed to do something before the situation got more awkward than it already was. “Introduce us, Brynne,” he said against my ear, the brush of his goatee pricking my jaw and making my knees weak.
“Ethan Blackstone, Marco Carvaletti, my—my photographer today.” Shit! Did I really sound that fluttery and weak? I swear I was in deep trouble with this man. He got to me in a way I found so unnerving yet arousing at the same time; a tantalizing mixture screaming Danger! in my head.
Ethan held out his hand and offered a greeting to the tall Italian with the bemused expression at our situation. “How did my girl do today, Mr. Carvaletti?” Ethan drawled in his elegant voice.
Marco gave just the hint of a smile. “Brynne does her job to perfection, Mr. Blackstone. Always.” The elevator dinged again and Marco stuck his arm out to hold it. “Are you going down?” Marco asked, stepping inside.
“Eventually. Not just yet,” Ethan answered, settling a hand on both of my upper arms and holding me firm. We faced the elevator doors about to close. Eventually? I did not miss the suggestion in that comment. The image of his beautiful black hair moving slowly on his bobbing head between my legs was more than my libido could bear at the moment.
“Bye, Marco, thank you for the booking!” I managed to sputter, lifting a hand in a wave.
“Thank you, bella, the pictures are gorgeous as usual.” Marco kissed two fingers and blew them at me as the elevator doors closed on him, leaving me securely in Ethan’s grip and totally alone with the man who had an unmistakable erection pressed against my ass and the promise of knowing exactly how to use it.
“What are you doing!” I spat, spinning out of his hands. “What’s with the ‘my girl’ and the territorial behavior, Ethan?” I turned to his beautiful face very aware that I was breathing heavy and with every inhale drawing more of his delicious scent inside me.
He came at me, backing me up against the wall in the corridor, his big body looming as he very deliberately lowered his mouth onto mine. Ethan’s lips were soft in contrast to his goatee, and his tongue, like velvet, met mine in an instant; stroking over every part of my mouth, tangling with my tongue, sucking my bottom lip, getting inside me deep. As he pressed his big frame harder against me, I felt the solid length of his cock hit me in the belly. Ethan Blackstone took control of my body and I let him.
I moaned into his kisses and buried my hands in his hair. I brought him closer, my nipples tightening to brush against the chest muscles that felt so hard and male he had to be fiction. Except he wasn’t fiction, he was kissing me passionately in a public hallway on the tenth floor of the Shires Building in front of the Lorenzo Agency. He’d come here to find me.
He held my face on both sides so I couldn’t move away from the onslaught of his tongue. I was open to him and whatever he wanted me for. My reaction to Ethan was a weakness. I’d known it all along, even if only imaginary at first understanding. The real thing was devastating.
He moved a hand off my face and brought it down to rest on my neck. His kiss slowed to soft nibbles until he pulled his lips away and I felt the cool air upon the wetness he’d left there.
“Open your eyes,” he told me. I lifted them to see Ethan’s face a mere inch away, his blue eyes burning hot with lust.
“I’m not your girl, Ethan.”
“You were during that kiss, Brynne.” Eyes flickering, he read me, and then he inhaled. I was a damp mess between my legs, and I wondered if he could smell me. “You smell so good . . . and fucking sexy.”
Sweet Jesus! His thumb rubbed over my collarbone where his hand still rested on my neck. And I did absolutely nothing to stop him. I was enjoying the view too much. I’d tousled his hair from the mauling with my hands. He still looked gorgeous and probably did even when he crawled out of bed in the mornings. Bed. Was there a bed in our immediate future? It would take next to nothing on my part to get this man into bed. I didn’t have to be a genius to know he wanted sex. The real question here was did I want it?
“Ethan.” I pushed against the wall of steel that was his body and got nowhere. “Why are you doing this? Why are you acting this way to me?”
“Don’t know. I can’t stay away and I’m not acting. I tried to leave you alone but I can’t do it.” He feathered his other hand over my hair and down until it was resting on the other side of my neck. “I don’t want to stay away from you.” He rubbed slow erotic circles with his thumbs meeting at the middle of my throat. “You want me too, Brynne, I know you do.”
“How do you know that?” My voice came out in a whisper.
He brought his lips against mine again and kissed softly. “I can see it in your eyes and how you respond when I touch you.”
I could hardly stand up on my own as he conquered me with more devastating kisses. The point was moot; I didn’t need to stand. He had me braced against the wall at my back and his hips glued to my front. The elevator binged and he stepped back. I stumbled forward into his chest. He steadied me as a couple emerged and headed down the hall.
“We can’t—we’re in public. I don’t do this sort of thing—I can’t be here with you like th—”
He moved quickly, covering my lips with a few fingers to silence me and lifting my hand up to his mouth for a kiss. “I know,” he said gently. “It’s all right. Don’t panic.”
I could only stare spellbound as he pressed his soft lips against the back of my hand. The whiskers that framed his mouth brushed less softly but now felt nothing even close to the rough they had before.
Ethan looked at me with a measure of longing before taking the hand he’d just kissed and clasping it into one of his. He grabbed my duffel off the floor with his free hand and drew me into the open elevator. “Dinner first and then we can talk about things.”
And in a way that was becoming very familiar whenever I was in Ethan’s presence, I accepted that he’d completely taken charge again. He’d established control over everything, and had me right where he wanted.
