Naked

  “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, grey, 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 work day, I’d chosen clothes that would be forgiving of the time spent in a sports duffle—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 pony tail 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 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. Pressing 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 me? Why are you acting this way?”

  “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.”

  He brought his lips against mine again and kissed softly. I could hardly stand up on my own as he conquered my body. 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 up my duffle 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 in Ethan’s presence, I accepted he’d completely taken charge again. He’d established control over everything, and had me right where he wanted.

  4

  Vauxmoor’s Bar and Grill was trendy but not boisterous to the point where we had to shout to talk. I mostly just enjoyed my view anyway. Seated over his plate of steak, Ethan was a picture of polite and genuine interest. Gone was the heat and promise of sweaty sex we’d shared at the elevators. He’d turned it off just as quickly as he’d turned me on.

  “How did an American find herself at university so far from home?”

  I picked at my steak salad and went for a sip of cider instead. “I—I struggled for a bit after high school. I—” I closed my eyes for a moment. “I was a mess actually, for a lot of reasons.” Taking a breath to calm the nervousness that appeared whenever I had to answer this question, I said, “But with some help to focus my attentions, I discovered an interest in art. I applied to come here and by some miracle got accepted at U of L. And my parents were so thrilled to see me motivated they sent me off with hearty blessings. I have a great aunt—at Waltham Forest. My aunt Marie, but other than her, I am on my own here.”

  “But you are taking a graduate degree now?” Ethan seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing here, so I kept talking.

  “Well, when I finished my undergrad in Art History I decided to apply for advanced study in conservancy. They accepted me a second time.” I stabbed a piece of steak with my fork.

  “Any regrets? You seemed a little melancholy there when you were talking.” Ethan’s voice was soft when he wanted it to be.

  I looked at his mouth and thought about what it’d felt like crushed against mine, forcing me to accept his kiss.

  “About coming to London?” I shook my head at him. “Never. I love living here. In fact, I’ll be devastated if I don’t get a work visa when I finish my master’s degree. I consider London my home now.”

  He smiled at me.

  You’re too damn beautiful for your own good, Ethan Blackstone.

  “You do fit in here…very well. So well in fact, I wouldn’t have known you weren’t native until you spoke, but even then, American twang and all, you blend right in.”

  “A twang, huh?”

  “It’s a very nice twang, Miss Bennett.” He grinned across the table, his blues twinkling.

  “So, what about you? How did Ethan Blackstone end up as CEO of Blackstone Security International, Ltd.?”

  He took a drink of his beer and licked the corner of his mouth, still dressed in a fine dark grey suit for work that definitely cost more than my rent.

  “What’s your story, Ethan? And you have a drawl by the way, as opposed to a twang.” I smirked at him.

  One sexy eyebrow perked up. “I am the younger of two children. It was just my dad growing up for my sister and me. He drove a London cab and took me with him when I didn’t have school.”

  “That’s why you didn’t need directions to find my flat,” I said. “And I’ve heard about the test the London cabbies have to take on all the streets. It’s gargantuan.”

  He smiled at me again. “That would be The Knowledge. Very good, Miss Bennett. For an American you are quite up on your cultural facts of Britain.”

  I shrugged. “I saw a show about it. Was pretty funny actually.” Realizing I’d distracted him from the conversation, I said, “Sorry for interrupting. So what did you do after you finished school?”

  “I went into military training. Did that for six years. Left. Started my company with the help of contacts I’d made while enlisted.” He looked at me longingly again, seeming to have no inclination to keep talking.

  “What branch of the military?”

  “Special Forces, mostly reconnaissance.” He didn’t offer any more details but he grinned at me.

  “You are not very forthcoming, Mr. Blackstone.”

  “If I tell you any more, I’d have to kill you, and that would just blow my promise all to shit.”

  “What promise?” I asked innocently.

  “That I’m not a serial killer,” he said as he popped a piece of steak into his beautiful mouth and started chewing.

  “Thank the gods! The idea of eating a plate of beef with a serial killer would have totally killed this date for me.”

  He swallowed his meat and then smiled at me. “Very funny, Miss Bennett. You are a wit.”

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Blackstone, I try very hard to be.” He disarmed me with his charm so effortlessly I really had to work to keep him on task. Ethan could turn a conversation to his advantage in an instant. “What do you do at your company?”

  “Security mostly, for the British government and some private international patrons. Right now we are swamped with the Olympics. With so many people coming from all over into London—especially in our post nine eleven world—it’s a challenge.”

  “I bet.”

  He pointed at my salad with his knife. “I bring you to the best place in town for a Mayfair steak, and what do you do?” He shook his head at me. “You order a salad.”

  I laughed. “It has some steak in it. Anyway, I can’t help it. I don’t like to be predictable.”

  “Well you’re very good at being unpredictable, Miss Bennett.” He winked at me and took another bite of his steak.

  “Can I ask you a personal question, Ethan?”

  “I get the feeling you’re about to,” he said dryly.

  I sincerely wanted to know. The idea had been forming in my head for a couple days now. “So, do you—do you collect nudes…or something?” I looked down at my plate.

  “No,” he answered immediately, “I was
working security for the Andersen gallery that night. There were a few high profile guests and I merely went to make an appearance. I have employees who do the actual on-site work.” He paused. “But I’m very glad I attended because I saw your portrait.” His voice sounded amused. “I wanted it, so I bought it.”

  I could feel his eyes calling to me to look at him. I lifted my eyes up.

  “And then you walked in, Brynne.”

  “Oh…”

  “I heard what you and Clarkson said by the way—about me and my hand.” He tapped his ear. “High tech security gadgets in my line of work.”

  My fork dropped with a clang and I must have jumped a foot. He grinned and looked smug, and far too sexy to be here with me. I was so mortified I wanted to run out the door. “I am so sorry you heard—”

  “Don’t be, Brynne. I try to avoid my hand to get off, especially if there are other, more lovely, options.”

  I felt his fingers tug on my chin. I allowed him access and felt my body heat up. Whoa…breathe, Brynne, breathe.

  “Like you.” He whispered the rest. “I want the real thing. I want you underneath me. I want to get off with you.” His blue eyes never left mine. He did not let go of my chin either. He held me firm and made me acknowledge his words.

  “Why, Ethan?”

  His thumb flicked out and brushed my jaw. “Why does anyone want anything? It’s just how I react to you.” His eyes rolled over me and got that smoky look in them. “Come home with me. Be with me tonight, Brynne.”

  “Okay.” My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it. And just like that I agreed to something that I knew would be life changing. For me, it would be.

  The instant the word left my lips I witnessed Ethan close his eyes for just the briefest flicker. And then it was all a flurry of activity and purpose setting the pace from there; everything in sharp contrast to the sensual conversation we’d just been having. Within minutes he closed the bill from our dinner and led me out to his car. Ethan’s firm touch pressed against my back, pushing me forward, taking me away to a place where he could have me. Alone.