Billionaire Unveiled Page 7

  I moved to block her exit. “What is it with you and Becker? Does he have some kind of control over you? Because I sure as hell don’t believe you’re enjoying yourself.”

  She shrugged. “He’s hot. He’s rich. Plenty of women want to be with him.”

  My calm resolve was beginning to waver. I pinned her against the granite vanity where the sinks were located, preventing her escape. “That’s bullshit, Dani, and we both know it.” I swiped my hand against her cheek. “How many layers of makeup are you wearing?”

  “Greg likes me to wear it like this,” she protested, pushing against my chest. “And it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “What in the hell do you need from him that you aren’t getting? What is he doing for you? You told me you weren’t sleeping with him.”

  “I’m not. But maybe I want to be with him,” she answered angrily. “What in the hell does it matter to you?”

  My ability to think rationally was challenged, and I was so incensed at the idea that she might want to sleep with Becker that I threaded a hand through that sleek, sexy red hair and lowered my head, my mouth crashing down on hers.

  I wasn’t gentle with her, but I could be. Dammit! She belonged in my bed and not Becker’s. Never Becker’s! I’d give her whatever the hell she needed to get away from that asshole.

  I felt the exact moment she gave in to the kiss, her body melting against mine and her arms twining around my neck.

  Any sense of reason I had was gone as I lifted my head, my breath sawing in and out of my lungs like I’d just run a marathon. Fuck! I could not resist this woman for some unknown reason. I wanted to claim her as mine, but I sure as hell couldn’t do it here.

  My hands stroked down her back and landed on her shapely ass. I kissed the sensitive skin of her neck as I lifted her short skirt in a damn frenzy.

  My cock was rock-hard as I realized she was wearing very little under her dress. Just a tiny pair of panties and a garter belt to hold up those sheer stockings.

  Her breathless moan of pure desire almost made me come undone as my hand moved between her thighs, where my fingers met her silken heat below her barely there panties.

  “Does he make you feel this, Danica?” I asked demandingly, watching her head fall back as I stroked through her wet folds and teased the tiny bundle of nerves that was practically begging to be touched.

  “Marcus. Somebody could come in here,” she said, panting.

  The throaty, needy tone of her voice as she said my name made my cock throb painfully.

  I ignored it. This wasn’t about me…

  However, she was right about being too exposed, so I quickly yanked her into one of the stalls and closed the door. The upscale bathroom cubicle provided full enclosure except for overhead. It offered more privacy, yet I’d still be able to hear if somebody entered.

  Dani’s back was against the wooden wall, her expression raw and confused.

  I stroked her cheek. “Does that turn you on, Dani? The thought that you might get caught while you come?”

  She was adventurous. I knew that. And I honestly didn’t give a damn if she was screaming my name when somebody entered. Hell, I’d welcome anybody who would know that she was mine.

  “No, that’s crazy,” she said tremulously.

  “Is it?” I asked, my fingers on her pussy again.

  Her head slammed back against the wood, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, God. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I want you as much as you want me, Danica. I don’t want Becker touching you. I want it to be me who makes you come every damn time,” I rasped against the side of her neck.

  My touch was firm on her clit, but not enough to send her over the edge. I was enjoying watching her pleasure too much for this to be over quickly.

  “Why? Why me?” Her voice was quivering with raw passion.

  “I have no fucking idea, but I really don’t care anymore,” I answered in a graveled voice.

  I watched as she sagged against the wall, totally lost in the need to find her climax, her hips pushing against my hand frantically.

  Jesus! She was fucking gorgeous when her face was relaxed, her beautiful eyes filled with need.

  At some other place, I’d taste her, feast on her, and then fuck her until she became completely undone. But I didn’t lose track of exactly where we were and the limitations that presented.

  Regardless of the way she talked, I was fairly certain that she hadn’t been with anybody since I’d kissed her. I knew what she’d been through at the hands of the terrorists. And it was going to take a guy who understood what she needed. And that man was going to be me.

  I heard the bathroom door open, and I put a finger over her lips. I stroked over her clit faster, adding the pressure she was craving.

  “Yes,” she whispered, aware that somebody had come into the restroom, but unable to hold everything back.

  I put my mouth close to her ear and whispered in a husky tone, “Come for me, Dani.”

  Her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip, desperately trying to be quiet.

  I used that moment to thrust my finger into her slick sheath, almost groaning myself at how tight, wet, and inviting that channel was as I added a second finger and thrust into her while my thumb still teased her clit.

  One hand was on her ass, stroking over her exposed butt cheeks because she was wearing some sexy thong panties.

  “Marcus!” she whispered urgently. “I can’t.”

  “Oh yes, you can,” I told her in a hoarse, low tone.

  Her head thrashed, and I felt her body begin to tremble, so very close to release.

  When she opened her mouth and her body tightened, I slammed my lips down hard over hers, swallowing her scream as her orgasm tore through her body. My hand on her ass supported her as her legs appeared to give way. I lifted my mouth and kissed her temple, my hand reaching back to lower the toilet seat before I helped her sit down on top of it.

  She was gasping for breath as I removed a clean handkerchief from the pocket of my tux, crouched down, and gently wiped the sweat from her face.

  I’d heard the water running out at the sink, and the guest left the bathroom, leaving us alone again. At least for now.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned that I’d pushed her too hard.

  She wasn’t afraid of me anymore, nor was she frightened of her own sexuality. Knowing that she’d been aroused without thinking about what had happened to her at the hands of her captives told me just how far she’d come with therapy.

  She shook her head and then took the handkerchief from my hand to pat down her neck and face. “I don’t know what happened to me,” she confessed, still looking shaken.

  “You came,” I offered helpfully.

  “It doesn’t happen for me like that.”

  “Maybe it’s what you need, Dani. And you aren’t going to get it from Becker,” I grumbled.

  She stood up suddenly, forcing me to straighten up along with her. “Oh, God,” she said anxiously. “Greg. He’s going to be so mad. I’ve been in here too long.”

  I grabbed her arms and shook her lightly. “You can’t keep dancing to his tune, Danica,” I rumbled, angry about her concerned response.

  “I have to,” she said in a desperate voice. “I need him to trust me.”

  “Fuck no, you don’t,” I said to her forcefully. “You don’t need his sorry ass at all.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said in a pleading voice. “I have to go back.”

  “Not happening,” I answered. “Not until I have some answers. Christ! I just got you off, Dani. And you want to run back to Becker?” I was about ready to lose it.

  “I need to get back to the party,” she answered, trying to claw her way out of the stall.

  I let her go because I couldn’t stand to see her so terrified. Not after what she’d been through.

  She sprinted to the mirror and tried to quickly fix her makeup and hair.

  Finally, I said
, “Go. Go back to him. But I’ll be watching. You don’t love him. Hell, I don’t think you even enjoy being with him.” I’d seen the way she looked at Becker, and it certainly wasn’t how she’d looked at me with desperate passion in her eyes, her expression begging me to make her come.

  I slammed out of the restroom, more furious than I’d been when I’d first come in to find Dani. Jesus! The woman was going to give me a damn heart attack. I slid into my seat at the table, my dick still as hard as granite.

  Dani exited a few minutes later, her eyes searching for and finding Becker not far beyond where I was sitting.

  It took everything I had not to block her way as her sexy ass got closer and closer, but to my surprise, she stopped at my table. She was watching Becker, but his back was to both of us.

  Without missing a beat, she swiped my Scotch from my table and downed it in two big gulps and then set it back down on the pristine white tablecloth.

  “I hate pink, fluffy drinks,” she mumbled and then moved on toward her date.

  I smirked. I had to admire a woman who could knock back a good whiskey without flinching.

  My eyes never leaving Dani, I signaled the waiter for a refill.

  Dani

  Greg was angry.

  I’d known it from the moment he’d given me “the look” after I got back from the restroom at the charity event.

  I’d stayed away from him way too long, and once I’d returned to his side, I was distracted.

  Okay, I was way distracted.

  It hadn’t been easy standing with my date when I knew the guy who had given me a mind-blowing orgasm only moments before was staring a hole in my back.

  What in the hell had gotten into me in the restroom? I’d lost complete control of myself and wallowed in the pleasure that Marcus had given me.

  My body had craved Marcus’s touch so desperately that I hadn’t even thought about my date. My senses had been battered, and all I’d been able to do was ride a wave of heat so staggering that I was pretty sure I’d come away a little more than singed.

  I’d never quite recovered from that volatile orgasm, and now that Greg and I had returned to my condo, I knew he was going to vent some of his anger.

  “What in the hell was tonight about?” Greg asked angrily as I closed the door of my condo behind us after we’d entered.

  Well, that hadn’t taken very long.

  “Would you like a drink?” I asked politely as I moved by him and into the kitchen.

  He followed me. “No, I don’t want a goddamn drink. I want you to tell me why you were gone so long to the bathroom. How long does it take to piss? I felt like you were with somebody else tonight, because you sure as hell didn’t hear a word I said to you.”

  I turned back to look at him, noticing that his eyes were sparking with anger. “I was there. What else do you want from me? I’ve never been fond of fancy fundraisers.”

  I always gave my money readily enough, but I preferred to do it in private. I didn’t need public adoration for donating money to a good cause the way Greg seemed to crave it.

  He grabbed my hair and jerked my head back. “I want everything you have,” he said bitterly. “I don’t want your mind somewhere else when I’m speaking to you.”

  “Greg, that hurts,” I said firmly, trying to pull back.

  “I don’t give a shit if it hurts. I want it to hurt. Maybe you’ll remember who you answer to and who you’re with.”

  His venomous stare was starting to scare me, but I didn’t want him to know.

  “Let. Go. Of. Me.” I tried not to let him see me sweat.

  Thankfully, his painful grip on my hair finally released, but I wasn’t expecting the powerful backhanded blow he let fly on my face.

  My cheek felt like it exploded, and my head jerked to one side. Tears filled my eyes from the pain. He hadn’t held back. He’d let go full force.

  My hand flew to my face, as I took a step back. “Why did you do that?”

  He sneered. “Because I can,” he answered darkly. “I’m your goddamn master, Dani. Haven’t you figured that out by now? I’m in charge of any woman I date.”

  “I wore what you wanted. I did what you wanted,” I reminded him.

  “But I didn’t have your complete attention. Do I have it now?”

  I looked at him and nodded because I didn’t think I could handle another blow like the one I’d just taken.

  “Good,” he answered smugly. “I think it’s time I fucked you. Past time. Be at my house next Friday night, and wear something sexy.”

  I swallowed hard and kept silent as he moved forward and stroked a hand down my injured cheek. “I didn’t want to have to do that to you,” he said in an eerily calm voice. “You made me do it. I can’t lose control of anything, especially my women. I don’t share, Dani. I’ll never share.”

  I couldn’t very well say that he didn’t have to share. Truth was, all I’d thought about all night was Marcus.

  His fingers pushed sadistically on my throbbing cheekbone. “That will leave my mark,” he mused. “I like it. Your face will be black and blue by my hand.”

  Jesus! I was hoping that was enough. I’d suffered through worse beatings at the hands of the terrorists. Much worse. But it was so much harder dealing with abuse from somebody when I wasn’t a captive.

  I let out a silent breath of relief as he turned and walked toward the door. “Next Friday. Be there or I’ll come and find you, and it won’t be pleasant for you,” he threatened.

  “I’ll be there. What time?”

  He seemed to consider my question for a moment before he answered. “Eight o’clock. Be on time, and plan on spending the night. My girls aren’t usually capable of leaving after I’m done with them. I like it rough. Very rough.”

  I inwardly cringed, but outwardly showed no reaction to his comment. I was pretty sure he handled his women in bed the same way he did out of the sack.

  I slowly followed him to the door and then opened it for him. “I’ll see you then,” I muttered.

  He shot me a look totally devoid of emotion. “Don’t disappoint me. I hate being disappointed.”

  “I won’t,” I agreed meekly.

  I’d known that Gregory Becker had a very hard edge when I’d decided to go out with him. None of what was happening should be surprising, but it was a sharp contrast to what had happened with Marcus.

  He turned and walked out the door, and I closed it with a heavy sigh.

  My first priority was to get into the kitchen and get a bag of ice for my face. It hurt like hell, and I wasn’t used to taking beatings anymore. It could have been a lot worse, but the volatile impact of his hand colliding with my face was causing my cheek to throb.

  I held the ice to my face and kicked out of the high heels that were killing my feet.

  All I wanted was to scrub off the layers of makeup from my skin, lose the butt-hugging dress I had on, and get into a warm bath.

  I didn’t want to think about what Greg had said.

  I wanted to remember what Marcus had done to my body, and how I’d responded. Yeah, I knew that I could never let something like that happen with Marcus again, but I’d felt more alive when I’d been locked in a bathroom stall than I had in a very long time.

  “I don’t understand him,” I murmured to myself.

  Marcus could have very easily fucked me up against a bathroom wall, but all he’d done was get me off. Hard! It was almost like he said—that it really did give him an enormous amount of pleasure just to see me come.

  “What guy does that?” I asked myself.

  There was only one answer: Marcus Colter.

  I’d been so lost in the scent of him, the taste of him, the passion in his kiss, and the raw carnality of the moment that he could have satisfied himself very easily. But he hadn’t.

  The rest of the night had been uncomfortable, and my mind hadn’t been on my date. Greg had needed to repeat himself several times, and my mind had wandered from the superficial c
onversations he was having with the other guests.

  I’d been able to feel Marcus watching me, even when my back was to him. He’d still been at the same table he’d been sitting at all night when Greg and I had left the event.

  Just as I was headed toward my coveted bathtub to get water ready, my doorbell rang. My heart raced at the thought that Greg had come back for another round of abuse.

  I dropped my ice pack on the side table next to the couch.

  After moving close to the door, I opened it cautiously, braced for whatever Greg was going to throw at me this time.

  “Marcus,” I said in a breathless voice. My body sagged in relief, happy I wasn’t going to have to face Greg again.

  I let him in and closed the door quickly behind him, noticing he was still wearing his tux.

  “Are you okay?” he questioned in a husky voice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you,” he told me urgently. “Dani, somehow I need to make you understand that you don’t need Becker. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  The gruff, concerned tone of his voice nearly broke me. I looked at him pleadingly. “Please, Marcus, not now.”

  I wasn’t capable of any further conflict. I still struggled with some issues from my kidnapping, and I was shaken by Greg’s treatment just a short time earlier.

  “What in the hell happened to you?” he asked in a terrifyingly angry voice.

  I stepped back from him, but he proceeded forward, wrapping his arm around my waist while he tipped my face up. “Dani, did that bastard hit you?” His fingers trailed, featherlight, over my cheek.

  “It’s no big deal. I made him mad.” I tried to pull away, not because his touch hurt me, but because Marcus affected me in ways I didn’t understand.

  “I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his gray eyes swirling with fury. “What the fuck! Why are you letting this happen, Danica? Make me understand, and then I’ll go after the little prick.”

  I could feel the tension in his body, and his willingness to sprint back out the door to track down Greg. “Marcus, no. You can’t confront him right now.”

  “Oh, yes, I damn well can, and I will. Only a damn coward wales on a woman half his size,” he ranted. “And who gives a fuck if he got mad? That’s no excuse. There’s never an excuse for touching a woman with the intent of hurting her in any goddamn way. I get mad. My brothers get mad. Your brothers get mad. My friends get mad. What they don’t do is punch a woman in the face.”