Blackmailed Into His Arms

Although he wasn’t touching her at all, his voice poured over her like warm honey, his hinted suggestion sending off fireworks low in her belly. Her breathing grew choppy and she had to blink several times to stave off the sudden bout of lightheadedness that assailed her.

She wasn’t ready. Not yet. She knew the moment would come when she couldn’t put it off any longer, but for now he’d given her other options, and she grabbed at them like a drowning victim reaching for a life raft.

“I think we should unpack,” she said a bit too loudly and a bit too brightly, spinning on her heel and slipping past him before he could protest or—worse—try to stop her.

Not waiting for a reply, she hurried to where their bags had been left and hoisted her suitcase onto the mattress. There was a luggage rack off to the side, but she decided that if the bed was covered with clothes and such, it couldn’t be used for … other things.

Without a word, Chase joined her and they unpacked in silence, filling the drawers and closets, and cluttering the counter around the bathroom sinks.

When they were finished, Chase suggested they start getting ready for dinner and politely left her alone to change. She hurried with her hair and makeup, and shrugged into one of the half dozen cocktail dresses she’d brought along, knowing Chase would need time in the bedroom and bathroom to get ready himself.

Stepping into the sitting area, she found Chase standing at the bank of tall windows, staring out at the bright lights and bustling activity that made up the heart of Sin City. Though the thick, lush carpeting absorbed the sound of her footsteps, he seemed to sense her presence and turned as she rounded the end of the floral-patterned sofa.

His eyes softened when he saw her, and a gentle smile curved his lips as he skimmed her appearance, from the upswept knot of hair that left her neck and shoulders visible, to the strapless royal blue dress with its lace overlay that hugged her every curve and left her legs seductively bare. She shifted slightly and toyed with the sapphire pendant at her throat, uncomfortable with his thorough perusal.

He strode forward, taking his time and keeping his gaze firmly locked with her own.

“Nice,” he murmured as he passed, careful to leave just enough space between their bodies that her skin prickled in awareness, but they never actually touched.

“I won’t be long,” he added before disappearing into the bedroom and closing the connecting door behind him.

* * *

Dinner, Elena was relieved to admit, passed much more enjoyably and with a lot less stress than expected. Chase had introduced her to his business associates by name, with no further explanation, rather than referring to her as his girlfriend or mistress or some other label she’d been concerned he might use. And though she’d made small talk with the other women at the table, she mostly remained silent and allowed Chase to conduct his business.

He even asked her to dance at one point, and held her close while the orchestra played a slow, romantic song. After a couple glasses of wine and the lulling atmosphere seeping into her bones, she let herself lean against the strong wall of his chest and absorb the heat of his fingers where they rested at the small of her back.

She hadn’t forgotten their agreement or her reason for being here—both to help her father and become Chase’s lover—but since the outcome of her decision was inevitable, she started to relax and live for the moment rather than obsess over what might come next.

They said goodnight to the others and made their way through the lobby to the bank of elevators, their footsteps slow, her arm wrapped around his and their hips brushing.

“You were great tonight,” Chase said as they stepped into the empty elevator car. “Finklestein and Rogers loved you. And I think their wives were glad to have another woman at the table. My unattached state usually causes them to spend the entire meal going through a list of single young ladies they think might suit me.”

Elena offered a small smile, but didn’t reply.

“Bringing you along was definitely one of my better ideas.”

When the elevator stopped at their floor, he led her to the suite, opened the door with his keycard and waved her inside ahead of him.

They’d left a lamp on at the far side of the room, so the suite was bathed in pale yellow light. The closed curtains kept the neon sparkle of The Strip from intruding.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Elena turned to find Chase standing near the entrance to the kitchenette, but shook her head. “I already had too much wine with dinner. Any more and I’ll probably pass out and sleep for a week.”

“We can’t have that,” he replied, his voice a low rumble.

Moving closer, he stroked the pads of his fingers down her bare arm, raising goose bumps all along her skin. His gaze held hers and she swallowed hard to keep from shivering.

When he reached her wrist, he unhooked her gold and diamond watch, setting it aside on the kitchenette counter. From the next wrist, he loosened her dangle bracelet, then slipped the rings off her fingers, adding them to the growing pile. Next came her earrings and necklace, until she stood free of accessories.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

To her great embarrassment, the only reply she could manage when she opened her mouth was a strangled sort of sound. Chase grinned, his blue eyes turning storm gray and twinkling devilishly.

His hands lifted to her hair and slowly, one by one, he removed the pins holding the long locks in place. When he was finished, he drove his fingers into the twisted strands and combed them down to hang to her waist. A second later, she felt him tugging at the zipper of her dress, and then the fabric slipped from her body.

She didn’t fight it, didn’t grab for the garment before it hit the floor. She simply stood there and let him strip her down to her bra and panties, garter belt, stockings and high heeled shoes.

He took a small step back, just a millimeter to allow him to look his fill. “Lovely.”

“They were my sister’s idea.” The words popped out without conscious thought and she was rewarded for her senseless muttering by his warm, lopsided smile.

“What was?”

“The garter and stockings. She told me they were sexier than pantyhose, and that you’d appreciate the difference.”

His grin widened and turned even more wicked, his gaze locked on the lace edging at the tops of her thighs and the thin straps holding them up. “Your sister was right. Remind me to send her a thank-you note when we get back. And maybe a box of chocolates or some flowers.”

Elena nodded absently, her insides going both weak and hot at the same time.

With one hand on her hip, the other trailing up and down the length of her arm, Chase leaned in and blew on the shell of her ear.

“Tell me, Elena,” he whispered, sending shockwaves through her system, “will you come to bed with me? Now? Tonight?”

Her eyes drifted closed, the lids too heavy to keep open. Her blood felt like syrup slogging slowly through her veins.

If she’d known he was going to have this effect on her, she probably wouldn’t have come. He was too handsome, too charming and obviously had too much power over her. The power to make her weak in the knees and cloud her senses. The power to make her not only willing to sleep with a man she barely knew, but be on the verge of begging for his touch.

He had to know she was putty in his hands, had to know she was his for the taking. And yet he’d asked permission to make love to her, and was still waiting for her answer.

As much as she’d agonized over her decision to come here with him, the decision to go through with sharing his bed was easy. She wanted him, and regardless of his reasons for wanting her, there was only one response she could give.

Her lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her closely, his expression intense and strained.

“Yes,” she said finally.

She felt the tension seep from his body, saw the lines in his face vanish. Then, before she could form another thought, he scooped her into his arms, his long strides eating up the distance to the bedroom.

Once inside, he laid her gently on the made bed, then stepped back to divest himself of clothing. Raising up on her elbows, she watched him kick off his shoes, undo his cuff links, shed his jacket, tie, shirt and slacks. He came back to her in all his naked glory, so magnificent he made her mouth go dry.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he opened a drawer in the nightstand and removed a box of condoms, setting them on one of the pillows in easy reach. And then he turned his attention back to her, undivided, focused. The need swirling in her belly began to build and spread outward.

He traced the line of pale flesh above the scalloped cup of her black bra, never taking his eyes from hers. Leaning in, he used his teeth to nibble and bite at her bottom lip. She opened to him, wanting more, wanting everything. And he gave it to her, covering her mouth, molding their bodies together, kissing her until she was limp and gasping for air.

When they parted, Chase grabbed her by the waist and dragged her more to the center of the bed. Then he sat back and lifted her leg until the sole of her satin pump rested flat against his bare chest.

He reached past her bent knee, letting his callused palms run up and down her thigh. His fingers caught one of the garter fasteners and deftly released it. The strap, once pulled taut, snapped back, stinging the delicate flesh of her abdomen. She gave a gasp of surprise and Chase chuckled, covering the spot with his thumb and rubbing gently.

“Sorry. I’m not used to garter belts. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Proving he was as good as his word, he reached around to the second clip and carefully unhooked it from the stocking.

When he began to roll the silky material down, Elena almost wished he’d snapped her again. The tiny, biting pain had to be better than the slow agony he was creating now, the heaving, writhing lust monster coming to life in her belly and between her legs. It had fangs and claws and was tearing at her insides, making her shiver and moan.

And she could tell by the simmering, possessive look in his eyes that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“Patience,” he murmured, slipping off her shoe and the rumpled stocking, and pressing a kiss to the inside of her bare ankle.

She made a sound deep in her throat, a cross between annoyance and a whimper. Which only seemed to amuse him all the more.

He switched to her other leg, following the same process, causing perspiration to break out along her upper lip, inside her elbows, behind her knees. When he finished, he took hold of her panties and the garter belt in both fists and slid them over her hips, down the length of her legs, and off, tossing them to the floor. Next, he reached behind her and deftly undid her bra, pitching the strapless garment in the same direction as her other lingerie.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Chase said, sitting back to admire his handiwork.

She fought the urge to hide her nudity with her hands or reach for a corner of the bedspread, reminding herself that she’d chosen this.

And Chase Ramsey wasn’t exactly the first man to see her naked. He was merely the first in a while—as well as the most handsome and masterful.

She couldn’t remember another man ever making her want him with just one look, ever making her mouth water or her body vibrate so strongly with unleashed desire.

If he was doing this to get back at her for what she’d done to him in high school, then more power to him. She felt like throwing out her arms and screaming, “Take me. Use me. Make me pay.” His form of revenge was her idea of pure ecstasy.

He moved to cover her body with his own, taking her mouth in a slow, bone-melting kiss. His broad chest, with its sprinkling of dark, springy hair, flattened her breasts and rubbed against her nipples. His erection, hard and hot, nudged her stomach.

Digging her nails into his slick shoulders and back, she tipped her hips, trying to get closer, urging him to slip inside, where she needed him most.

But his exercise in torture wasn’t over yet. He finished with her mouth, trailing his lips along her chin, down the column of her throat, across her collarbone and the swell of her right breast.

His tongue swept across the beaded peak and she groaned, arching upward. He continued to lick, nip, suckle and drive all sensible thought from her head.

She dug her fingers into his hair, trying to tug him away even as her back bowed into his magician’s touch. A whimper slipped past her lips, and she fully expected to expire on the spot. If she survived long enough to regain the use of her limbs and brain cells, she fully intended to exact a bit of her own sweet revenge.

He lifted his head and a cocky, satisfied grin spread across his face. But the smoldering heat in his eyes belied the lighter lift of his lips.

“I want to do more,” he said in a tight, gravelly voice, holding her gaze. “I want to kiss you from head to toe. Taste every inch of your skin, then come back for seconds.”

He crawled up a few inches until their eyes and mouths and naughty parts aligned. Threading one hand through the hair at her temple, he reached past her and grabbed the box of condoms, struggling to open it one-handed.

“I want to,” he repeated, “but I can’t. I don’t have that much self-control.”

When he had a single square packet free, he tore the end off with his teeth and spat the plastic aside. It took him less than a second to sheath himself and settle more fully between her legs, which she had wrapped loosely around his hips.

He took her mouth, speaking between wet, breath-stealing kisses. “Later, all right? I’ll lick you all over later. I promise.”

With one smooth, powerful motion, he was inside her, stretching her, filling her, setting her nerve endings on fire. Air hissed through his clenched teeth as he held himself perfectly still above her, the muscles in his throat roped and taut.

She knew he was waiting for her, giving her time to adjust to his invasion, the size and hardness of his impressive length.

But she didn’t need time. She only needed him.

From the moment he’d entered her, everything about this encounter had felt right. And now all she wanted was for him to move, to fill her even more fully and send her flying over the abyss that hovered just out of reach.

Twining her arms around his neck to match the twist of her legs at his hips, she drew him closer. “Don’t stop now,” she whispered a split second before their mouths met.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips, through her torso and limbs and into her soul.

His hands tightened on her waist, lifting her slightly as he pulled back. She started to whimper at the friction he created and the sudden loss of his heat, but before the noise could work its way up from her diaphragm, he thrust forward again.

Slowly, methodically, he moved in and out. Smooth motions at first, then building in speed and intensity.

Her breathing increased, her lungs contracting to absorb less and less oxygen with each breath. She raised her legs higher, gripping him about the waist, doing everything she could to pull him deeper.

It wasn’t enough. He was pounding into her now, his fingers digging into the flesh of her buttocks, but still she wanted more. She wanted harder, faster, stronger … More, more, more.

Even as she thought it, the words tumbled from her lips. Broken and disjointed, but directly into Chase’s ear.

He heard, agreed, obeyed, taking her higher and faster until she was gasping. Her body strained for him, strained for release.

And then it hit with the impact of a bullet, making her cry out and claw at his back with her nails. Her inner muscles spasmed around him, and she moaned in wonder as he took her climbing again.

The second climax was as strong as the first, rocking her to her very core. And this time, he came with her, grinding his mouth to hers as he pumped one last time, then went rigid above her.

For several long minutes, they lay there, tangled and still, their ragged breathing the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Elena couldn’t move, her bones weak, her will nonexistent.

She hadn’t ever experienced an orgasm even close to that in her adult life, not to mention the level of sensuality, passion, eroticism and intensity he’d shown her.

If she’d ever suspected sex with Chase Ramsey would be half as satisfying as what they’d just done, she’d have been tempted to look him up long ago … or seduce him back in high school.

She might even have to thank him for blackmailing her into this situation, because so far, being his mistress was turning out to have some incredible perks.

With a reluctant groan, he rolled aside. The air in the room washed over her naked, damp body, making her shiver. But a second later, he’d pulled back the bedspread and was dragging her toward the headboard. He tucked her under the covers, propped a pillow beneath her head and then slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

As pillow talk went, it was somewhat lacking, but she was too tired and too satisfied to care. Curling into him, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off, only vaguely aware of the smile stretched across her face.

Four

Elena awoke the next morning to a gentle clinking and the heavenly smell of scrambled eggs and fresh-brewed coffee. She rolled to her back, inhaling deeply and stretching her arms high above her head before forcing her eyes open.

The room was still dark, the bed so soft and warm and comfortable, she never wanted to leave it. But the scent of breakfast and sounds of someone moving around in the other room drove her to throw back the covers and sit up.

It took her a moment to realize she was stark naked, the cream-colored satin sheets soft against her bare skin. And then she remembered the events of last evening, a bright flush heating her from her toes to her hairline. She couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed or sorry Chase wasn’t still in bed beside her so they could once again do everything they’d done last night—and more.

Padding across the soft plush carpet, she found a robe and nightie set in one of the dresser drawers and put them on, then took a few minutes to brush her teeth and wash her face before moving to the open doorway between the bedroom and sitting room.

Chase was already dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, white shirt, and seafoam tie, his black hair neatly combed and styled. He sat at the round mahogany table arranged in front of the wide open windows, sipping hot coffee and reading the morning paper.

Running her fingers through her still sleep-tousled hair, she cleared her throat and started forward.

He lifted his head when he noticed her approach and gave her a small smile. “Morning. Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, taking the seat across from him and reaching for the coffee carafe to pour herself a cup.

“I didn’t know what you’d like for breakfast, so I ordered a little of everything,” he told her, reaching for the room service cart a few inches away and removing the silver lids from several platters.

There were pancakes, scrambled eggs, crisp bacon and sausage links and a wide array of fresh, seasonal fruit. It looked delicious, and she wasted no time filling her plate. She added cream and sugar to her coffee and poured a bit of syrup over her pancakes before digging in.

A second later, she lifted her head and glanced at Chase. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked.

He shook his head and lifted his cup to his lips. “Coffee’s all I need in the morning.”

Having him watch her eat what amounted to a truckload of food while he merely sipped his black coffee made her feel like a glutton. Not that it would stop her, she thought, popping a bite of honeydew melon in her mouth.

After she swallowed, she waved her fork at him, distracting him once again from the business section of the Las Vegas Review-Journal.

“It’s not healthy to skip breakfast, you know,” she told him, breaking a slice of bacon into smaller pieces and nibbling them one at a time. “It’s the most important meal of the day.”

One side of his mouth lifted indulgently before he returned his attention to the paper without a word.

She ate in silence awhile longer, enjoying the sunny view out the bank of tall windows, but not her current company. Finally, she put down her fork and grabbed a second plate, filling it with small portions of the same items on her own.

“Here,” she said, pushing the paper aside with a rattle and placing the plate in front of him. “You’re driving me crazy. You have to eat something.”

He stared at her for a long minute, brows knit in a frown. “I don’t need anything to eat.”

He started to open his paper again and straighten the page she’d wrinkled. With a sigh, she half-stood and took the paper from his hands. Before he could grab it back, she returned to her seat and leaned far enough away that he couldn’t reach her unless he got up and came around the table.

“How about if I read the paper to you while you eat?” she offered brightly.

His frown turned into a full-blown scowl. “Elena,” he murmured, lacing her name with dire warning. “I didn’t bring you along to mother me or tell me what to do. I’m thirty-five years old and already set in my ways. I have a routine and I like to stick to it. Now give me back my paper.”

She tipped her head. “Indulge me. Please? You’ve got a busy day ahead of you, and we expended quite a bit of energy last night. You need to keep your strength up or you’ll be of absolutely no use to me in bed tonight.”

She felt her cheeks heat at her own audacity, but forced herself not to squirm under his intense regard. He studied her for several long seconds while her insides turned to jelly.

And then he let out a bark of laughter and picked up his fork.

“Fine,” he said. “You read, I’ll eat. And don’t worry,” he added with a pointed, just-shy-of-boiling glance, “I’ll have plenty of energy for anything you might have in mind tonight.”

Opening the paper to hide any more bright color that might suffuse her face, she swallowed hard and began reading where she thought he’d left off. The information was boring enough to counteract the caffeine already coursing through her bloodstream, but she didn’t stop until she’d reached the last page. She even recapped the comics for him one by one.

When she was finished, she folded the paper and set it aside, delighted to see that he’d cleaned his plate and even poured himself a small glass of orange juice.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “From now on, I’m going to have a huge, four-course breakfast … and I’ll leave the reading of the morning paper to you. Aloud, and in that amazingly sultry voice of yours.”

Sultry? She’d never thought of her voice as sultry before. A little low and raspy at times, but never sultry.

“You have a touch of your father’s accent, did you know that? Like a hint of Mexico just beneath the Texas twang.”

Considering his own Texas drawl was as thick, if not thicker, than her own, she didn’t think he had much room to talk. But still, the compliment—and she did take it as a compliment—washed over her, warming her from the inside out.

“Maybe you could read to me again tonight,” he continued. “In bed. Something sexy and a little naughty.”

Nerves jangled in her stomach, unexpected desire skating down her spine like an Olympic hopeful going for the gold.

“Do you have any sexy or naughty reading material?” she asked, surprised when the words came out strong and surprisingly sensual. For the first time, she heard the sultriness he’d spoken of, as well as an unspoken, almost unintentional invitation.