"Where am I?"
"You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to wake you. I brought you to my home instead. I thought you could use the rest."
He stopped and set me down at the entrance to a lavish bedroom. Rich wallpaper gave the room a warm feeling, surrounding the four poster bed covered in lush linens that dominated the room.
"You brought me home with you?"
He gave me a lopsided grin that made my heart do a little flip. "Are you worried I won't be a gentleman?"
I gave him a shy smile. "You have been all night. Why should I doubt you now?"
He showed me the bathroom attached to the guest room, and I stared at the silky white bathrobe hanging in the corner, as well as the toiletries laid out.
"I called ahead while you were sleeping and let the staff know you were coming," he offered, as if he had no idea how strange it sounded to me. "Please. Make yourself comfortable."
I sat on the bed, smoothing my hands over the sheets. They must have been some ridiculous threadcount by the luxurious feel of the cotton. Why should I be surprised that even his guest room had the best of the best in it? He has a staff for God's sake!
"Thank you, Mr. Drake." I smiled up at him, wondering what this night meant, if anything.
"Please," he said, "Call me Chase when we're not at work."
I smiled up at him and tried the name on for size. "Chase…"
"Goodnight, Isabeau."
He closed the door behind him, leaving me with more questions than answers.
I awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of footsteps outside my room, then a door creaking open. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and climbed out of bed. I pulled on the short silk robe, loving the way it felt against my naked body, and tip toed to the door. If Mr. Drake was up, what was he doing?
I glanced at the clock. It was nearly 3 a.m.
I eased the door open and glanced down the hallway. There was a black door at the end of the hall standing ajar, and I heard the sound of ice cubes clinking against glass. I knew I shouldn't snoop, but curiosity burned inside of me. Would one little peek hurt?
After all, my host had said to make myself comfortable…
I moved quietly down the hall, padding barefoot on the thick carpet until I was just outside the door. I peered in, my eyes still adjusting. The only light came from a fireplace on the far wall, but I could see Mr. Drake's profile as he sat in a highbacked chair, and slowly raised a glass to his lips. Something lay across his lap, but I couldn't quite make it out. He lowered the glass and raised the whatever it was to his face. It looked like cloth, torn at the bottom…
I gasped out loud as it caught the light.
It was my shirt from that day in the office. The one he'd torn undressing me.
Mr. Drake whipped his head around at the sound.
I didn't move in time, and our eyes locked through the crack in the open door.
"What are you doing?" His voice was harsh, and I winced at the tone.
I stepped into the room, tugging the robe tight around my body. "I could ask you the same question."
He looked down at the shirt in his hands, then let it fall to the floor. "You were supposed to be asleep."
The look in his eyes then, a mixture of sadness and regret, made me do something I never thought I'd do. I crossed the room to his chair, took the glass out of his hand and set it on the mantle, before saying exactly what was on my mind—what had been on my mind ever since that day in the office.
"Why won't you punish me any more?"
My voice was soft, almost drowned out by the crackling of the flames, but I knew that he'd heard.
"Isabeau…. It isn't that simple."
"What's complicated about it?"
I put my hands on my hips, and noticed his eyes raking over my curves, barely concealed by the thin robe.
"If you don't want me, I understand."
My voice cracked a little, despite my wishes, and I looked down, unable to meet his eyes.
He stood, then, towering over me, darkly silhouetted against the flames.
"It's not that. God, Isabeau… you can't know what you do to me."
He moved close, close enough to hold me if that's what he wanted. If so, I wasn't going to stop him.
"Then what is it?" I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trailing along his arm until I reached his hand. He didn't pull away.
"You don't know what you're asking."
"Try me."
There was a moment of tension, so thick I could barely breathe, and then he closed the distance between us, grabbing me roughly, his lips crashing down on mine. His mouth was hot and urgent, making my knees shiver. I moaned, opening my lips beneath his, and felt a surge of arousal course through me as his tongue met mine, searching, tasting, teasing…
I clutched the front of his shirt, wanting to rip it off, but not sure if it was okay, if it was proper. He broke the kiss, and looked at me like a wild animal, his eyes ravenous. I was afraid and nervous and more turned on than I'd ever been in my life.
"I can smell your need," he growled, and slipped a hand beneath my robe. "You're on fire for me."
"Oh, God," I whispered. My core was so wet, so ready, and I felt my juices drip down onto his palm.
"Tell me you want this."
It wasn't a question.
"I… I want this."
That was all it took.
He jerked the belt of my robe open and tore it down off my shoulders. The silk whispered at it fell to the ground.
For a moment, I wanted to cover up, to avoid his searching stare, but then he touched me with those strong hands, and all thoughts of shyness disappeared.
He was rough, but gentle lovemaking was the last thing on my mind. I reached for the buttons of his shirt, but he slapped my hands, unbuttoning it himself and tossing it aside.
His body was exactly as I'd imagined: toned, hard, with a sprinkling of light brown hair across his powerful chest. I wanted to touch him, to take my time, licking my way down to that oh-so-sexy spot where his abs met his hip, but he held my wrists in one hand as he worked his buckle.
"Clasp your hands together, and don't let go. Understand?"
~ ~ ~