She swallowed, then came to a decision and made a screeching U-turn, promptly following the rear lights of her car. He stopped at the gas station, and her stomach moved when she realized he was filling up her tank.
Oh, God, she wanted him so much it hurt.
Braking at the side of the road across the street, she watched his muscles bulge as he shoved the pump into the gas opening. It was a stupid thing, really, but as he leaned his beautiful butt against the side of her car and waited, looking down at his cell phone and answering some e-mail or text, she felt her nipples draw tight as pebbles at the intimacy of him filling her car up for her.
Twenty minutes later, her Mercedes slid into the parking lot of an extremely posh building. She waited for a couple of minutes, then eased his Range Rover underground, parked, crossed the lobby, and asked the receptionist for his apartment number. Of course, she was told he had a separate elevator, being the sole owner of the entire top two floors. But Graves was just like Danny and they loved intelligent homes, so it was no surprise for her to have to click a button downstairs for his own private elevator to be “activated.”
What surprised her was how quickly he, personally, answered the ring.
“Code’s unlocked. Come up and down the hall.”
Anticipation flicked through her as she boarded the elevator. She rehearsed her excuse for returning his car so soon. My date canceled…
No, for that would make her sound unwanted, and what she needed for him to see was that she was desirable and available. Right?
Briskly reviewing her options, she stepped into his apartment, her heels clinking on the granite floor. Some sort of security became activated, for she heard a “scanning” sound surround her and then it fell silent.
It was all dark across the living room except for the city lights that flickered outside the window, but once deeper into the hall, all lights vanished.
She held her breath as she entered the dark room at the very end of the hall. Graves’s deep baritone voice cut through the air. “Close the door please.”
She started. Then, hands trembling, she closed the door behind her. Her vagina clenched.
“Now take your clothes off. I need this to be fast and hard and I need you to role-play for me.”
For a stunned moment she blinked at his cool, businesslike tone. “Excuse me?” she gasped.
“You heard me. Take your clothes off. I need to get someone out of my system.”
“Graves?” Chloe asked.
There was a silence, then she heard him mutter, “Lights on.” The lamps flicked on: two matching ones beside his bed and a sleek, tall one by the window drapes. In the background Chloe could hear the virtual butler of his intelligent home speak in a British accent: Yes, sir.
And as her eyes adjusted to the light, her heart became a kettledrum in her chest.
Graves stood by the end of his massive king-size bed, wearing nothing but dark slacks draped low over his narrow hips, and his nude, muscled torso glowing golden under the lamplight. For a split second, his face went blank.
“Chloe?”
“Graves?”
Her stomach tumbled at the riveting sight he made, over six feet two inches of gorgeous, partly nude male. His eyes shone dark amber, and the effect of them was immediate as they locked on hers from across the room. His ebony hair tumbled recklessly atop his head. His neck was thick and corded, and she could see the flex and ripple of muscles as he started forward.
Oh, God. Predator. Large, lean, feline. Coming toward her.
Her braless nipples pushed against her strapless dress as she took in his amazing physical form, slowly advancing toward her, making her heart accelerate with each step.
He was so athletic and so mesmerizing, she could hardly think, couldn’t even move to save herself.
Graves was ripped, hard, and also…pissed. A pair of handcuffs dangled from three curled fingers of his left hand, and Chloe stared, horrified at the sight. A hand flew to her mouth. “What are you doing with that? Are you expecting someone?” she gasped, genuinely dumbstruck.
He stared at her from beneath drawn eyebrows and advanced the last steps in that slow, panther-like way that made her want to run for cover, shoving the handcuffs into his pants pocket. “What the fuck are you doing here, Chlo?”
“Returning your car. My date got canceled and I didn’t think you’d mind if I dropped it off sooner…”
When he reached her, he leaned over her in a way she could tell was meant to intimidate, his eyes stormy and wild as he assessed her with nerve-racking intensity. “I didn’t ask you to come here. How’d you get up here?”
“I followed you. You told me to come up when I rang,” she said, loathing that her voice shook.
His spicy, elegant scent did powerful things to her libido. Unnerved out of her mind, she stepped aside with a calming breath and distracted herself by taking in his bedroom. A year ago it had been featured in Architectural Digest. The expert touches of the best decorators in Chicago, one of whom Chloe knew very well, graced every corner of the whole apartment, from small Picasso drawings on the walls of his bedroom, to gold-leaf sculptures among the bookshelves. The look was contemporary and simple, maybe even austere, with gray walls, gold velvet drapes, and black woods, but it was elegant and expensive looking. What really knocked his home out of the park, she’d been told, was the intelligence wired down to the heated flooring. Every room was rumored to contain computer systems so advanced they rivaled Tony Stark’s in Iron Man.
It was all so fine, so calculated, so…Graves.
And as for the man himself? Oh, God, she was actually in his bedroom. His private lair. And she was dying to be with him. Her every forbidden fantasy since she was fifteen had been with him. She imagined him laying her on his bed and kissing her lips, her throat, the tip of her breasts…
He stepped in front of her again and pulled her chin up, his pupils dilated. “Leave. Don’t ever, ever, come back here. Ever.”
His lips as he spoke were so plush and mobile she could only stare at them, hypnotized, her legs trembling weakly. Dropping his hand, he took a step back and flexed his fingers at his sides, his face taut with displeasure.
Chloe’s chest hurt as she worked to breathe, and a horrible thought that Graves wasn’t single clamped its fist around her throat. Was he expecting someone? Who was he going to have sex with tonight? “I…I didn’t know you were expecting someone—I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend. Danny said you never have. Do you, Graves?”
He seemed transfixed by the sight of her lips moving. “I don’t do girlfriends.”
“Then what…?” she asked, confused. Burning jealousy had wrapped its tentacles around her, and now it wouldn’t let her go.
Graves’s stormy gaze traveled down the rest of her body until he yanked his eyes back up with a clenching of his jaw. His voice kept dropping and now it was a low, seductive rasp. “Just leave, Chlo.”
She rubbed her hands over the goose bumps he’d caused. “I just don’t understand. Are these the kinds of things you guys are into? Do you hit your women, Graves?”
He plunged his hands into his hair and circled around one time in desperation. “Jesus, I don’t hit women!”
“Then you just tie them up and what? Play with them?”
“I can’t do this with you, Chlo. Please. Get out of here. Now,” he hissed through his teeth, then he paced away only to come back and glare at her. “Please, damn you. I beg you.”
But his eyes…there was hunger there. Something primal, calling to something deep and intrinsic inside of her. She shook her head stubbornly, because she couldn’t leave…not so Graves could have another woman. Not when her body was crying out painfully for a measly touch from him. Not when she could see the unleashed power within him coiled in each and every straining muscle in his body. And not when she could see the storm of desire in those thick-lashed, flaming eyes.
Breathing with difficulty, she ran her tongue over lips, her nipples erec
t and pressing hard against her strapless dress as she kept glancing at the shiny silver handcuffs dangling from his pants pocket.
“Just tell me what you do that’s so wrong that you can’t do it with me,” she croaked out.
A long, thick silence stretched between them, then she watched as his fingers curled into trembling fists at his sides.
“I’m going to ignore you ever said that,” he said in a low, threatening voice that made her pussy even wetter. He grabbed her elbow and escorted her down the hall to the elevator, softly commanding, “All lights on.”
Yes, sir.
Suddenly bathed in an explosion of light, Chloe blinked, yanked her arm free, and whirled around to face him, setting her hands on the muscled wall of his chest.
“I want you, Graves. Please don’t send me away.”
He hissed like she’d burned him with her touch as he grabbed her wrists and lowered her hands, his face twisting with pain. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Chlo.”
“I want you so much I ache when I look at you. I know you want me, too, I see the way you look at me.”
“You think I look at you?” he scoffed angrily, then he curved his hands around her nape and wound his fingers into her hair, pulling her head back so their eyes met. “Maybe I do look—because what you’re wearing just begs me to. But you’re not my type. I don’t do innocent heiresses who dream about weddings. I don’t do my friends’ baby sisters.”
“You seriously plan to stand there and tell me you don’t want me? You can’t even look me in the eye anymore!” Disbelieving anger surged to the surface. “You’re a fucking pussy, Graves.”
“A pussy?” He massaged her scalp almost painfully and leaned in, his teeth clamped. “You’re right. I am. I’m a big wet pussy and I want to lick yours so bad, the need to scares the living daylights out of me. That’s right, Chlo. I want you so much you make me shake in my fucking pants. I’m obsessed with you…with where you are…and what you do…and who the fuck you’re with…I want to bury myself inside you so deep I won’t ever want to pull out.”
Her breath came in gasps, his sensuous words creating havoc in her. She was torn between latching onto those lips so close to hers and climbing him like a tree. She reached shaking hands to his shoulders, her vagina clenching tight. Her voice throbbed. “Please, Graves, I want you. I ache so much.”
“No, Chlo, this can’t happen.” He bit the inside of his cheek so hard, she could see he’d done some damage to himself before he stepped aside.
Chloe shook on unsteady feet as she watched him press a wood panel on the wall and grab her car keys from the compartment that opened. He came back and slapped them into her palm. “Drive safely and call me when you get home.”
A drop of blood from inside his mouth had gathered at the corner of his lips, and Chloe touched his lips on impulse.
“What happened? Why did you do that?” she asked, picking up the drop of blood with her fingertip. Then she did the unthinkable and licked the drop with her tongue. Graves seemed transfixed, and she could see his muscles contract on an indrawn breath, and she would never, ever, forget the lust-filled ecstasy in his eyes.
Heart galloping in her chest, she reached out to pick up another crimson drop.
But at the first touch of her fingertip, Graves slammed his eyes shut and turned to bury his teeth in the fleshy part of her palm. Then he licked her with a low, animal growl.
Something turbulent swam through her veins, overpowering her.
His eyes opened, glowing like suns in his tanned face, and so hot she could burst from the heat smoldering in their depths. His voice gentled as he reached out and touched her cheek. “You happened,” he said thickly. “It’s all about you. Go, Chlo. Please. For me.”
“Graves…I don’t want you to sleep with anyone. Please. Why can’t it be me? I don’t care what Daniel says, I trust you. You wouldn’t hurt me. I’m…ready. I’m ready for you.”
He released a low, hungered groan as his hands curled around her arms and he hauled her against him. “Christ, I’m not a normal man, Chloe. And I’m not a smitten young boy you can twirl around your little finger.” Eyes burning into her like lasers, he slid a callused hand boldly up her throat, his erection pressing almost painfully against her pelvis. “You think I could stop, if I go too far?”
The look he gave her was so consuming, she closed her eyes and sank her nails into his shoulders, gasping. “I know you would!”
“Chlo.” He set his forehead on hers and his breath bathed her face in rapid, desperate bursts. “Jesus, you need to understand I’m very particular about the way I live my life. The way I compartmentalize to stay peaceful…quiet. You’re not fucking quiet to me, Chlo. You make me feel wild and stupid and I don’t trust myself with you. You’re right. You’re fucking right, I would never. Ever. Hurt you. But I don’t want to find out how much I’d hurt myself for you. You’re dangerous to me, Chlo. I’m afraid to hurt you and I know damned well you’re going to destroy me.”
The bell rang, and he released her and pressed a code into a nearby keypad, his fingers deft and long. A low buzz sounded when he finished, then she heard the slow, rolling noise of the elevator traveling upward. Chloe’s misery felt like a steel weight when she realized the woman he was going to “play” with had arrived.
Graves’s chest rose and fell as he waited for the elevator to arrive. He watched the climbing numbers with glimmering eyes, those shiny handcuffs dangling from the pockets of his pants.
But Chloe was still swimming in a daze, overwhelmed with need and hunger because he wanted her. Graves wanted her. She’d known it, she’d known those looks couldn’t lie, the way the heat pooled and slid down her legs when their eyes met. But he didn’t want to want her, and she couldn’t stand the thought of him rejecting her after everything he’d said.
She played poker with the boys sometimes, too, and now she realized she was going to bluff her way to a winning hand.
“Look, Graves,” she began, drawing in a deep, fortifying breath. “I’m twenty-five this Saturday—and I’m a virgin. If you don’t want me, then I’ll ask Luke Preston to spend a weekend with me, just show me a couple of tricks. He may bluff all he wants about his scruples, but we both know he’d do me in a heartbeat.”
His eyes flared in disbelief, then narrowed menacingly as he took a step toward her. Something low and fierce glimmered in their depths. “You don’t want any involvement with Preston any more than you want to get involved with me.”
The jealousy in his eyes thrilled her, spurring her on. “Want to bet?” she asked, brow raised, then mockingly said, “Oh, wait, you don’t want to bet anymore because you always lose!”
The elevator pinged, and as soon as the doors rolled open, a tall, slender blonde strode forth, as gorgeous as Graves was handsome.
Chloe was amazed at her own composure, keeping her poker face as she climbed aboard.
The woman’s expensive perfume lingered in the air, and before the doors rolled closed, Chloe met Graves’s tumultuous gaze, her eyes imploring him to please, please touch her and make her his. She knew he’d had a tough childhood. She knew he was eccentric. But she also knew that she could take what he gave her, all of it and more.
He stood with his legs braced apart, arms at his side. “Call me when you get home,” he commanded. At the same time, without looking at his new playmate, he arrogantly lifted the dangling handcuffs in the air in a silent order, which the woman obediently seized and clicked eagerly over her wrists. “I said call me from home, Chloe,” he added dangerously when she didn’t answer.
And seconds before the door slid shut, Chloe said with a cold smile that told him to fuck off, “I’m not going home, Graves.”
Chapter Two
Graves watched her leave in a daze of disbelief mingled with lust mingled with frustration, his heart pumping furiously in his chest, every turbulent emotion swimming inside his straining, aroused, screaming body. Chloe was a virgin. A sweet, precious, lo
vely little virgin. And she wanted him—the master of impersonal sex—to fuck her? No. She wanted Luke Preston to do it now. Goddamn it.
“Mmm.” Susanne licked into his ear and leaned her curvy, plush form against his, nuzzling her face up all over his muscles, his pecs, down his six-pack, to his rock-hard cock pushing up against the fly of his pants. “My goodness, look at you today,” she whispered delightedly.
He grabbed her hair to pull her back in a not-so-gentle way, grumbling, “It’s not for you.”
Setting her aside and charging across his living room, he started barking out orders. “Fire up the computers. Lobby view, on four.” A screen popped up on the wall, exposing an HD view of the lobby elevators. “Parking lot, on five.”
A second screen appeared, and there was Chloe, crossing toward the very spot he’d parked her Mercedes. Even from a TV screen her saucy little walk did despicable things to him. He curled his fingers into his palms.
“Connect to Daniel Lexington’s system. Open logged-in computers. Open iCloud on Chloe’s Mac. Go to track my iPhone.”
Scanning sounds erupted around him. Suddenly, a map lit up in the air, and a little moving dot that represented her car slowly blinked on the screen, advancing down Michigan Avenue. His heart pounded as he watched it, his cock straining in his pants, his heart aching in his chest as he remembered her shocked expression when she’d seen his handcuffs. And then, her pleading whispers…
Graves…I don’t want you to sleep with anyone. Please. Why can’t it be me?
Holy God, he wanted to die for her. He wanted to go tell his best friend who enjoyed a little pain that he was going to bang his baby sister. He didn’t just want to bang her. He wanted to be sweet and fucking easy. He wanted…to reinvent himself just so he could touch this beautiful princess and get her out of his head, his chest.
That same heart, that same damned chest, constricted painfully when the dot took a side street, and Graves realized Chloe had not been bluffing. Oh, no, that little lady played her game right.