First Touch Read online

  He wrapped his arms around my ass and brought me in tighter. “Well, let me help make things clear. If you don’t tell me what’s up in about three seconds then you’re going to lose the opportunity entirely.”

  God. His hands. On my ass.

  But, focus! “Your audition,” I managed. “I’ve passed it. I’m not sure you’ve passed mine.” Lies. He’d passed. Passed and then some.

  “Ah. Of course.” His tone was stiff, but he began massaging circles on my backside through my skirt. “You want to be taken care of in a currency other than orgasms.”

  “Well…” Did it have to be one or the other?

  His lip turned up in a knowing smirk. “Correction – in addition to orgasms. Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be an expensive girlfriend?”

  I took a deep breath in, flustered by his touch, empowered by the label he’d given me. “Because I am. But I’m going to try to be worth it.”

  “Oh, you’ll be worth it. That’s not an option.” He spanked me. On my ass cheek. Hard.

  I jumped from surprise, my face reddening with a flush that ran hot, straight to my core.

  His expression darkened, saying he liked that. Liked spanking me. Liked my reaction. Knew that I liked it too. Unlike me, he was able to stay on topic. “So what’s this going to cost me, Emily? You have a good paycheck, so you’re going to have to tell me what you have in mind.”

  “Yes, I have a good paycheck.” I nodded as I spoke, conscious that his hands were moving again along my backside, trying so very hard to keep focused.

  And I still hadn’t thought of anything to ask for so I was forced to improvise. “I can afford my apartment and living expenses. But I take care of my mother too so I don’t have the extras, and I really like extras. Designer clothing is a weakness.”

  “If I had my way you wouldn’t ever wear clothes.” Forget what his hands were doing because now Reeve leaned forward and bit my nipple.

  My panties went from damp to soaked. “Ah.” Concentrate. “And I’m a shoe whore.”

  His head popped up, suddenly intrigued. “Now shoes I can get behind. Can’t you just wear shoes” – he glanced back at the ones I was wearing – “like those, and stockings? Those thigh-high things.”

  Damn, I liked it when he got flirty. He still had that undercurrent of dark, but was also fun. Like he’d been when I first met him at the resort.

  His other resorts. If I could get him to take me to some of his other resorts, maybe that could lead me to Amber. “Mostly, I want to travel. I want to see places, first-class style, and I don’t want to travel alone.”

  “And that’s the reason you targeted me.”

  “One of them.” I ran my hands up and down his chest, digesting the words he’d just said. “‘Targeted,’” I scoffed. “As if I were a sniper.”

  He leaned back in the chair, distancing himself from me. “Aren’t you?”

  It bothered me that he thought that. Bothered me because there was resentment in his tone. Bothered me because his mood seemed to have changed with the statement.

  Bothered me mostly because it was true.

  I dropped my hands. “You really don’t like me do you?”

  “I still haven’t decided.” He didn’t even try to pretend he was teasing.

  It stung. More than I wanted it to. More than it should have.

  I scooted off of him, awkwardly because of how I’d been sitting and because it was stupid for me to be hurt by what he’d said. He made it even more awkward when he didn’t try to stop me.

  Folding my arms across my chest, I walked to the windows overlooking the pool. It was almost prettier at night. The lights shone on the water, making it glimmer. Making it glamorous.

  Much like this life.

  I’d forgotten how sparkly it appeared on the surface, how it was really only smoke and mirrors.

  “Emily.” Reeve sighed softly. I watched his reflection in the glass as he stood and came up behind me. He gathered my skirt up and squeezed my ass. “I have decided I want to fuck you,” he said at my ear. “Do all sorts of dirty things to you.”

  He could push me against the window and bang me right there. That would be plenty dirty. And probably a fitting way to fuck a woman that he didn’t even like.

  The thought made my chest feel hollow. How sick that it also turned me on?

  Reeve watched me in the glass. “That’s what you want too, isn’t it Emily?” He pressed the length of his body against mine. “For some reason, I want to give you things as well. Which works out for you because I wouldn’t ever give anything out of obligation alone.”

  I turned my head slightly toward him, showing him he had my attention. Wishing I could tell him that I didn’t really want anything from him. Wishing I could be “liked,” for once, instead of “paid for.”

  “Here’s what I’m going to do,” he said, pressing kisses to my neck in between his words. “When you leave here later, you’ll take one of my cars. I’ll leave the keys on the coffee table for you. It’s yours. I’ll have the title transferred to your name tomorrow. Will that do?”

  Only if it will help me find Amber. “It’s a start. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “I think you’ll find in this case that beggars actually can.”

  I pulled away and spun to face him. “Are you saying that if I beg I’ll get to travel?” I’d do it. I’d do whatever it took to find the truth and get away from this man. This man who was very much the flame to my moth. Already I feared that finding answers wouldn’t be enough to sever his pull on me.

  He put his hands in his pockets and straightened his stance. “I’m saying you get a car. I’ll think about the rest.” His wicked grin returned. “And also, begging is more than welcome.”

  Welcome, not necessary. If it wasn’t necessary, he wasn’t getting it.

  After a beat, he said, “I’m going to get the keys and pull the car out of the garage. You will wait for me in my bedroom. Up the stairs, to the right, end of the hall.”

  I took a shaky breath. This was it. Yes, I’d already had him inside me, but I was certain that I hadn’t yet been introduced to what things would really be like between us. If I wanted out, if I had any doubts at all, this was my window, before he put the keys in my hand.

  Out was what I should have wanted. I didn’t. And suddenly, I was scared. Not of what Reeve would do to me, but of what I’d let him do to me.

  I forced myself to make an effort toward self-preservation. “Reeve. Is there… do I need to know anything? Like what you expect from me…?”

  His eyes darkened. “You’ll know.” He paused, probably waiting for me to do as he’d told and go upstairs, but I didn’t move. “What?”

  “Do I need a safe word?”

  His eye twitched, but he met me dead on. “You either trust me or you don’t, Emily. If you need a safe word, you probably shouldn’t be here.”

  He was right – I shouldn’t be there. Especially when I was clearly walking into a questionable situation without being given any tools to get out if I needed to. If I’d learned anything from my past, I’d have run about now.

  Except my past also told me that I was incapable of running from danger. “Well, isn’t it lucky that I’ve never been really good at doing what I should.”

  This time I did move. I walked toward the stairs, taking off my tank as I did. I peered over my shoulder at him as I tossed it to the floor, smiling when I saw him fixed on me, crazy with desire. That eased me ever so slightly. I may have been walking into the fire, but there was a chance I wouldn’t be walking in alone.

  CHAPTER 13

  I dropped my skirt in the upstairs hallway and my bra at the door to Reeve’s room. Like the rest of the house, his private space was magnificent and modern. It expanded the entire width of the house and was broken up into two spaces with an entertainment area on one side and the sleeping area on the other. I went left, to the bedroom. The room was furnished with a king-size bed, chair, ottoman, be
nch, nightstand, and dresser, yet it was so large that it looked sparse. The clean lines and open space let the spectacular view of the canyons take center stage through the floor-to-ceiling windows that carried from the main floor to this one.

  I pulled the ponytail holder from my hair and began twisting it into a bun as I walked to the glass. This area was on top of the living room and overlooked the same scene. Being higher up, though, the perspective was different. Grander. The emphasis wasn’t on the landscape of the yard but on the opposite canyon wall and the night sky beyond. Instead of the sparkle and glimmer of fabricated light, there was the faint bleed of stars through the LA smog and shades of dark that extended on and on.

  This was a more accurate view of this world. This was what was under the outer layer of glamour – endless dark. I could sink back into it so easily, embrace it, live for it, hoping for that occasional burst of star shine. But I knew from experience that sometimes – often – the light didn’t ever get through.

  And I was a girl who would let the dark swallow me up whole.

  I couldn’t do that. Not this time. I couldn’t care if Reeve liked me or not. I’d fucked plenty of men that I hadn’t liked. Hell, things would have been easier if some of them hadn’t liked me as much as they did. I needed to look at his indifference as a gift. Needed to find my own apathy.

  From now on, no attachment. Distance. Callousness. Minimum of pleasure. I’d fake my orgasms. My smiles would be superficial. I was an actress. This was just another role.

  When he came into the room a few minutes later, I was sitting on the ottoman with my legs crossed, in only my panties and heels.

  “I wasn’t wearing stockings,” I said. “This was the best I could do on short notice.”

  He surveyed me as he tossed his jacket on the dresser. “I approve.” He stayed where he was and worked the knot of his tie, loosening it, his eyes never leaving me. “Take off nothing else. But get yourself ready.”

  Shit, this was going to be hard. He was already shredding me to pieces with the way he was looking at me. With the way he’d taken command of the room the moment he walked in. With the way my every cell wanted to fall down at his feet and obey.

  How the hell was I supposed to only pretend to submit when that was exactly what I wanted to do?

  Disengage, that’s how. Self-denial. It couldn’t be any harder than dieting. I just had to gather my willpower and stay in control.

  I pasted on a sexy smile. “I’m guessing teasing is allowed when you ask for it.”

  He raised a curious eyebrow and began working the buttons on his shirt. Slowly.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” I spread my legs apart, hooking my ankles around either side of the ottoman. Then, making sure I had his attention – which I did – I licked the tip of my index finger and slipped it under the band of my panties.

  His face remained stoic, but as his eyes slid down my body, they darkened and sparked. Was that even possible?

  His shirt open now, he moved to undo first one cuff then the other. “Tell me what you want, Emily.”

  “Besides everything I told you downstairs?” The strip routine was killing me. Thank God for the masking of my panties. It hid that I wasn’t actually rubbing my clit. There wasn’t any way I could watch him while touching myself and not explode.

  He eyed me predatorily as he removed his shirt and set it on top of his jacket. “No. Here. Now. From me. What do you want?”

  “You.”

  “More specific.”

  “Your cock.” I knew these lines. They were the ones every man wanted to hear. “I want your cock.”

  He moved to his belt now, undoing the buckle with deliberate care. “Too vague. What do you want me to do to you? Tell me.”

  Anxiety fluttered in my chest. “I want whatever you want.” But my voice sounded meek. Tentative.

  Reeve pulled his belt from his pants and flicked it with frustration. “Stop pandering.”

  I jumped at the snap of the belt, at the snap of his tone. I’d already dropped the façade of playing with myself. Now I dropped the sugar in my tone as well. “I’m not pandering. I’m trying to do what you want. You’re the director. Remember?”

  He smiled tightly. “And right now your director wants you to tell him what you want. In detail.”

  I stared, wide-eyed. Nothing was coming to mind except the truth, and saying that would make me too vulnerable. Too exposed. I needed another answer. Anything.

  The silence dragged out too long.

  “If you can’t say it, then this doesn’t need to happen.” He turned his back to me, walking away as he spoke. “The car key is on the counter. You can let yourself —”

  I bolted up. “I want you to fuck me!” The words tumbled out. “Hard.”

  Reeve spun back to me. “Where? In your mouth, in your cunt?”

  “There.” I shook my head, erasing my last response, knowing he’d want a more definitive answer. “My cunt.”

  “On the bed?”

  “No. Against the window. From behind. I want you to strip me and press me hard to the glass. So it will feel like anyone can see. And anyone who does will know that I’m special because I’m the one you’re fucking.”

  He crossed to me in four strides. Gripping my upper arms, he pushed me back against the window. “And you don’t want me to be gentle. You want me to fuck you rough. You want me to leave you raw so that tomorrow you won’t be able to forget for one second that I was in you tonight.”

  Yes. That. Yes. I nodded.

  “Say it,” he demanded.

  “I don’t want you to be gentle. I want it rough and raw. I won’t forget that you were in me tonight.” God, saying the words – the words that said what I really truly wanted from him – it did something to me. Made me even more aroused.

  He knew that, I was sure. That man, I swear he could see inside my mind. Inside my soul. Knew just what it would take to make me come undone.

  His grip on me loosened. “Take out my cock, Emily.”

  My hands shook as I undid the button and slid down the zipper to his pants. Then I drew in a sharp breath, surprised to find he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He was, exactly as I’d thought from our first time together, well hung.

  Despite my promise to myself to remain detached, I was desperate to touch him. I had to do it anyway. He’d expect it. I closed my grip around his hard, thick length and stroked him. My eyes darted back and forth from my hand to his face. I couldn’t decide what I liked looking at more – his steel erection or his heated expression. So many times, the enjoyment I got from pumping a man was the power it gave me, and there was this, too, with Reeve. But even more predominant was the anticipation of what that expression said this man planned to do to me. Of what his hot shaft of flesh would feel like inside of me.

  No. I didn’t care about that. It was inevitable, but I couldn’t look forward to it. I could not.

  Without warning, he flipped me around so that I faced the window. He positioned my arms above my head. “Don’t move,” he said in a way that made it impossible to disobey even if I wanted to.

  He reached around to cup my breasts and I let out an involuntary moan. They’d been begging for his attention since his eyes first lingered on them. Having them finally touched, finally fondled and caressed, was more erotic than I’d imagined. More pleasurable than I wanted it to be. I decided I would die if he ever stopped.

  God, how I needed him to stop.

  But that asshole took his time – squeezing, kneading, pinching my nipples – all the while sucking and nipping at my neck, my jaw. Something in his approach made it obvious that this was for him, for his pleasure. For his satisfaction. Was he simply enjoying my body? Or was he claiming me? Because I’d be marked when this was all over. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t actually have any screen time. It would be a hell of a lot of hickeys for makeup to cover.

  I was panting and on fire when he moved his touch lower, but, amazingly, still in control of
my senses. I took that as a victory. One round down without losing myself to him. Could I make it through the next? My heart hammered in my chest as I braced myself for his fingers to find a new sensitive spot on my body to torment. Prepared for it to be my clit, I was surprised and relieved when, instead, he curled his fingers around the waistband of my panties.

  “Thank you for telling me what you wanted, Em.” He shimmied my underwear over my ass, slowly. Teasingly.

  The canyon, I thought. The lights. Focus on the lights.

  But I couldn’t block out his voice.

  “I won’t always ask for your input,” he said next, bending as he pulled my panties down to the floor. “And I won’t always take it when I do.” He maneuvered the material over one shoe, spreading my stance as he lowered my foot back to the ground. “But you will always give me what I ask for.”

  Give me what I ask for. They were trigger words for me. Words that turned me from a strong, competent woman to an addict begging for her drug. The lights. Count the lights on the houses.

  Leaving my panties dangling at my other ankle, Reeve rose, trailing his fingers up the outsides of my legs until he was at his full height. He met my eyes in the glass. “While I won’t promise that you’ll always like what I do to you” – he pressed in closer, letting the tip of his cock tease at my hole before gripping my hips with both hands – “I will promise to take you where you need to go.”

  He thrust into me, stretching me, filling me completely. My eyes blurred and my throat went dry. It felt so good. So right. He plunged in hard and fast. Unrelenting. Unforgiving. Everything inside was tightening, building, gathering. I had to make it stop. Had to keep counting the damn lights. Seventeen. Eighteen. Oh, God…

  I held on. Just barely. My eyes latched onto one spot on the canyon wall and I clung to it, focusing on it so intently that I was able to dull the amazing things that Reeve was doing to me. Even when his hand reached around to work my clit in quick, pressured strokes, I held to my focal point.