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  Kate pulls me towards the refreshment table and the two of us scan the crowd. It’s a sea of pastel dresses. Some women wore white or black. A few younger women hanging onto a rich man’s arm wore red.

  No one wore a dress with a pink as loud as mine, and very few of the women had skin as dark as mine. Kate had decided to use this to our advantage. You’ll be a bold sapphire in a sea of diamonds, she’d told me. Priscilla’s comment wasn’t quite as flattering, but she seemed to begrudgingly admire my gusto. The mother of an Easterbrook should command the attention of any room they enter, she’d declared. This will do.

  Well, the hot pink dress I wore certainly made a statement. It wasn’t as revealing as most of the other dresses—Kate’s comment about the ball being a cleavage showdown wasn’t an exaggeration—but there was something unmistakably sexy about it. Maybe because only someone confident could pull it off.

  Lately, there’d been so many reasons for me to worry. Not remembering anything. A new baby. A devastatingly handsome man who was constantly helping me out or pulling away. And though I did worry, that wasn’t me.

  I was an artist, which meant that I looked at each new experience unflinchingly. Preston had been right. That was a quality all of my paintings had, and I still had that strength within me. It was time to let it out.

  “Uh oh, I think he found us first,” Kate laughs. “And he looks pissed.”

  What? Why would Preston be pissed? I crane, trying to find him, and then I do. Suddenly, I kind of wish I hadn’t.

  He’s stalking towards us. I can see his muscles straining beneath his tux. And his face?

  Oh man.

  Save me now.

  Why is he so mad? What does he have to be mad about?

  He stops in front of me, dark eyes flashing and nostrils flaring.

  “What are you wearing?” He doesn’t just ask. He demands an answer.

  “Hello to you too, brother,” Kate interjects.

  He glances sideways at Kate, eyes narrowing. “Are you to blame for this?”

  She bats her eyelashes. “To blame for what?”

  He glances at me once more, looking me up and down. “You know exactly what. You’re going to get me thrown in jail.”

  “I think you’re overreacting. We just gave her a mini makeover and got her a dress. Mom approves, by the way.”

  “Mother does not approve of this.”

  “Oh yes she did. And, as you know, mother has impeccable taste. Doesn’t Tachell look lovely?”

  “That’s not the problem,” Preston rasps.

  “You know, I am standing right here,” I tell Preston. “You should stop talking about me like I can’t dress or make decisions for myself.”

  Preston’s eyes soften. “That isn’t the issue.”

  “What is the issue, then?” I am starting to feel more like a mannequin than a person with the way they keep looking at me and speaking to one another as if I’m not here.

  His eyes darken. Kate makes a gagging sound as he takes my hand. Suddenly, he doesn’t look like a man—he looks like a ravenous wolf who hasn’t eaten anything in two months. Then, without answering, he pulls me away from his sister and the crowd.

  I can feel judgmental eyes following us, but Preston doesn’t slow down and I don’t even care. The truth is, something about the situation thrills me. His commanding grip on my hand. The primal intensity radiating from him beneath all his finery. I want to push him down onto the ground, rip open his shirt, and lick all those perfect muscles….

  Alright. It’s probably best that we’re leaving. These aren’t really appropriate feelings to be having during a charity event, right?

  We race up the stairs, past caterers and meandering patrons. Preston then takes a sharp left out onto a balcony on the back of the mansion.

  The night air feels so cold on my naked skin. Before I have time to ask what’s going on, he pulls me in so close I can feel his heart pounding.

  “So,” I whisper, “you don’t like the dress?”

  “I have mixed feelings about it,” he answers.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. It’s the kind of dress you can’t help but notice the second it moves into a room. The kind you can’t ignore. And, the kind you can’t help but know that you’d like it better if it were on the floor and the woman who was wearing it was beneath you in bed, screaming out your name as you fuck her.”

  Wow. Don’t know if I’d use the word ‘lovely’ to describe that, but I’d take it. “And the problem?”

  “I’m not fucking you.”

  Oh. “Well, that’s on you. I was ready. Actually, I am ready.”

  His hand comes down on my hip, possessive and radiating strength, showing me my place was at his side. “You’re playing with fire, Tachell.”

  I raise my left eyebrow. “I’d rather be playing with something else.”

  He doesn’t ask me what I’d rather be playing with. He just growls.

  “You’re acting like a child,” I tell him, “hiding my toys so I can’t play with them.”

  “You remember that?”

  “No, but it sounded like something you’d do.”

  His breathing slows until his mouth comes down on my throat. “Do you know what else sounds like something I’d do?” he whispers over my skin.

  “What?”

  “Just taking what you offer. Right now. Right here. It’s not in my nature to keep resisting you. I’m fine with being the bad boy if it means having you in my bed again.”

  I shiver, shudder, as his tongue moves up my neck, lips kissing me until they reach that sensitive area right below my ear. His other hand comes over my throat, tipping back my chin so he has better access.

  Oh God.

  “We can’t do this here.” I whisper as his other hand slips between my thighs. His eyes flash with satisfaction when he realizes I’m already ready for him.

  “We can do this wherever I want to do it,” he whispers, drawing his hand up further. Goosebumps flare over my skin. My stomach muscles tighten. Oh God, I do want him to sink into me to the sound of fountain water rustling below and the heavens sparkling with city lights. I want him to push me deeper into the dark velvet curtains behind us. I want him to twist me up in them and just fucking take me already.

  I feel his cock straining against his pants. My body aches with anticipation. I want to know what it feels like slipping into me, completing me…if he’ll take me as confidently as he’s playing my body now. He’s not something anyone can tame. He’s as wild and unpredictable as nature itself.

  And then, he stops kissing me. I cry out with surprise as he clamps his hand over my mouth.

  “I know that’s what was the deal,” a masculine voice from the hall says, “but I just don’t know if it’s in my best interest to follow the agreement.”

  Oh shit! There are people here? Have we been seen?

  “But you signed something,” another voice replies.

  Alright, it’s just a boring business conversation. Now leave so we can keep…

  “Well, then I’ll pay the fine and be done with it.”

  Ugh…what’s taking so long? And damn I must be turned on since even this hasn’t killed the mood.

  Finally, the voices fade as they continue down the hall.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he whispers into my hairline. “We should probably take this somewhere else.”

  “No. Just do it fast.” I can’t take this any longer! “We can marathon fuck later.”

  His eyes blaze. “No. If we start now, I’m not stopping until we’re both screaming with release.”

  Alright…maybe screwing his amnesiac, pregnant, maybe-fiance at the Fireman’s Charity Ball would look bad. “Fine. Your place. Now.”

  Chapter 14

  He grabs my hand and takes off back down the hallway and stairs. He doesn’t need to be told twice, though maybe it would have been nice if he’d given me a little time straighten up. There is only one way out of this place, after all—throug
h the magnificent downstairs ballroom.

  “Wait!” I tell him, but he doesn’t stop. Soon we’re bursting through the doors and beelining it through the ballroom.

  So…yeah.

  My hair is a a bit messed up, and not in the cute convertible montage way. Messed up like I was fucked up against a wall messed up. Which, to my credit, I was not (though I might as well have been from the way I was humping him back there). I haven’t checked out my face, but I’m guessing it isn’t good, considering his mouth and hands were all over the place. I can see my dress, however, and let’s just say it’s a bit disheveled.

  Oh dear. We were supposed to leave to avoid causing a scene. However, it didn’t quite go down that way. People are glaring at us like we skipped out on the charity ball to bump uglies upstairs which, again, we did not! We were leaving to go do that right now. And it was pretty damn obvious.

  I find Kate in the crowd. She’s the only one who’s smiling and giving me the thumbs up. Let’s just say that her mother doesn’t look pleased and leave it at that—if I describe the look on her face in any more detail, I will have nightmares for the rest of my life.

  Finally we burst outside. Thank God Preston is used to getting his way and moving fast, because I don’t think I could have survived another second in the ballroom. He signals for the driver and his own personal limo pulls up a few seconds later.

  Well that was fast. And much easier than running out in traffic and trying to hail a cab.

  He opens the door before the limo stops. “Get in.”

  I do. Now is not the time for sweet words. It is time for action.

  Once inside, he presses a button and a privacy screen slides up between us and the driver.

  I’m oddly fascinated. “How the hell did you do that!?!?”

  “It’s a special kind of glass…techno…shit, don’t ask me questions right now, Tachell, or my dick is gonna be the one who answers you.”

  Wow. He sure does have a way with words when he’s horny. Sometimes I wonder how the hell he got such a reputation as a playboy, and then I remember he’s a freakishly sexy billionaire. The man doesn’t even have to try.

  I smile, leaning over. “Your dick is gonna answer, huh? That sounds interesting.”

  Preston growls.

  “He doesn’t seem to know many words,” I say, reaching for his pants. But on my way there, my hand is blocked by something massive and hard. What the…? I glance down.

  My jaw drops.

  My eyes bulge out of their sockets.

  That massive, hard thing that blocked my hand? It’s his cock. Or at least I hope it’s his cock, because otherwise Preston has oversized Tupperware in his pants.

  “What’s wrong, Tachell? Are you at a loss for words?”

  I glare at him, resisting the urge to flick him. “N-no.”

  He raises his eyebrows.

  I gulp. How do you tell a guy you’re afraid you might not be able to fit him in? I don’t think you do, or at least I’m not going to. I was able to take it once. And I want to try again.

  “What are you thinking?” he whispers.

  “That the driver is pulling into a creepy garage.”

  Preston glances out the window. “We’re home.”

  Home.

  I shiver. Everywhere. That word, coming from him and coupled with the word “we’re,” has an affect on me I didn’t anticipate and I’m not sure I should indulge in.

  The driver lets us off at an elevator near the entrance and continues driving, which is a little awkward.

  “So, how long until I can have you?” I ask as we wait for the elevator.

  “As soon as those doors open,” he says.

  “Yeah, I think we came here to avoid public displays of affection.”

  “And we’re not going to have any,” he tells me, pulling me close. “This is a private elevator.”

  “P-private elevator?”

  He nods. “I’m the only one living in the building at the moment. It hasn’t opened to tenants yet.”

  Oh.

  “Very.” His eyes follow the strap of my dress as it plunges into my chest. I can read his thoughts in his eyes. He wants to touch, lick, caress, take.

  Damn! When is this freaking elevator going to get here???

  The doors slide open.

  I step inside and he’s directly behind me. He puts his hands on my hips and pulls my dress forward. There’s an appreciative groan as he notices the other part of the outfit. The part Kate thought was most important. The matching pink thong.

  He bends over, kissing the back of my neck as he takes hold of my ass. “Oh God,” I whimper as I feel his hard length caressing me through his pants.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this since the last item,” he whispers at the nape of my neck. My bare back shivers as his buttons push into my skin, my spine, fresh cotton soft over my skin.

  I grab the brass bar at the back of the elevator. The four back walls are covered in mirrors so I can see every angle of his face and every facet of his intensity as he studies me. It also means that every inch of me is on display for him. His fingers splay over my hips.

  He whispers something before reaching around to stroke my clit.

  I cry out as a jolt of incandescent ecstasy shoots through me. I don’t know what he’s saying, but I can see his unrepentant lust and uncontrollable desire clearly on his face in the mirrors. He’s drinking me in like he will never be able to quench his thirst.

  My shoes slip on the floor as I spread my legs a little further. I arch my back, pushing my ass into him. He groans, and I feel the tip of him twitching. Just barely, I can see his length in the mirrors. Thick, long and glorious, it’s even more imposing coupled with him looking down at me like that. He runs his hand up my bare back, up each vertebrae, bringing his hand to the back of my neck. He twists his hands around my weave, pulling me back so his lips can touch the side of my jaw.

  “Beautiful,” he whispers.

  And then, I realize he’s unzipped his pants.

  Oh God, is he going to fuck me in this ritzy elevator?

  His hand moves under my dress so he can caress my breasts. I squeeze my legs together as he gently pinches my nipples. “I’ve been fuckin’ dreaming of getting my mouth on these again,” he whispers again, this time close enough so I can feel his teeth on my shoulder.

  “Oh God.”

  The doors open with a ding.

  I’m breathless and we haven’t even started. I thought he’d take me in the elevator, but he seems to have other plans. He lets go of me and it takes everything I have not to cry out. The asshole knows it, too. He glances over his shoulder, flashing me a cocky grin.

  My heart beats faster as I follow him into his penthouse. It isn’t the first time I’ve been in here. It isn’t even the first time I’ve fucked him here. But I don’t remember what happened before and I have a feeling that even if I did, it wouldn’t prepare me for tonight.

  His tasteful, ornate rooms bleed into one another. All I can focus are his powerful shoulders, his confident stride, as he leads me further into his domain. Finally, he opens a black door at the end of a hallway.

  We enter together. “I should have danced with you,” he whispers, brushing the hair from my face.

  “It’s alright. You didn’t have dancing on your mind. I don’t, either.”

  “You deserve to be courted.”

  “I deserve to be pleasured.”

  He smiles sinfully. “Ah, yes. That too. I guess making sure you’re pleasured is more important.”

  “You guess?”

  “You’re an insatiable lover.” His eyes darken. “I like that.”

  “You better.” I run my hand up his chest. His heart is beating just as furiously as mine.

  I push him back down the hall. I know he’s worth a billion dollars, but Jesus Christ, one night in the sack with him is probably worth one billion dollars, too. I can’t believe I have that body all to myself. There has to be a catch. I can find it
later, after tonight.

  When we reach the bedroom, he takes control, picking me up and throwing me onto the bed. I’m a big woman, but he moves like I weigh nothing.

  He grins, taking my kissing my ankle.

  “I like these shoes,” he tells me. “Who got them for you?”

  They match my dress. The one he ripped in the hallway. “I picked them out.”

  “You have good taste,” he whispers, dropping the heel.

  I don’t know if I’d describe my taste as “good.” The heels are ridiculously long and the most impracticable shoes I’d ever seen in my life. Kate had encouraged me to buy them even though I said there’s no way I could dance in them. She didn’t seem to think that would be a problem.

  “They’re hell to walk in. Probably good we didn’t dance,” I tell him.

  “Oh, sweetheart, these aren’t shoes to walk in. These are shoes to get fucked in. You in nothing but these shoes…I think I could get hard forever on just that thought.”

  With that, he rips down the front of my dress.

  “Hey!” I yell. “this was expensive!”

  “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “You can’t. It was one of a kind, made for some runway show. There are no other ones.”

  “Then I’ll find the designer and pay her to make another one for you.”

  I shake my head. “You can’t do that either. She’s an artist.”

  “And you are a work of art.”

  With that he hooks his thumb beneath my knees, pushing me further apart. Every part of me is hot and I’m so wet and ready down there that it’s amazing I haven’t cum already. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much before. I mean, if I did, I’m pretty sure I would have died.

  I look down.

  Oh God.

  Oh my fucking God.

  I knew he was big. But there’s big, and then there’s…that.

  My entire body trembles as I glance down at his monster cock. I had that inside me? No wonder I got pregnant! I mean, I know that a man’s size has nothing to do with his…ahem…potency, but…Jesus Christ!

  “You still with me, Tachell?” he asks, breathless.

  Am I? “I don’t know.”

  “You want to wait, just say the word.”