Freefall (The Indigo Lounge Series, #5) (8 page)

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Authors: Zara Cox

Tags: #sexy billionaire; wounded heroine; damaged hero; indigo lounge; erotic sex

BOOK: Freefall (The Indigo Lounge Series, #5)
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“Yes,” he answers, again with that deadpan look. “I’ve spent most of the last four years in the Amazon with a tribe cut off from the rest of civilization.”

My mouth drops open. “You...are you serious?”

His lashes sweep down in a slow blink. “Why would I lie about something like that?”

I shake my head to clear the conflicting messages bombarding me. “Regardless of that, there’s no excuse for your rudeness considering who you are.” His eyebrow starts to spike, and I purse my lips. “Yes, I know exactly who you are. I googled you. People do that nowadays. In fact, it’s considered an insult not to google a person you meet at the first opportunity.”

His mouth twitches. “Duly noted. But the facts that interest me about you won’t be online. Unless you’ve been a very naughty girl,” he drawls.

God. I can’t make up my mind where my exasperation ends and my excitement begins with this man. All I know is I need to get away from him. Now. Before I lose my mind. Or throw myself at this hard wall of a body.

I drag my gaze from said body and look around to see that while we’ve been engaged on what can only politely be labeled verbal intercourse, the sun has set and lights have come on aboard the other boats and along the marina.

“I’m going to find the captain of this yacht. I’m sure he’ll give me a tour since you don’t seem inclined to.”

I hurry to the sofa where I dropped my clutch and head for the stairs, which lead god knows where. As I near the stairs, I hear him behind me.

“I’ll give you your tour. But bear in mind that each hour you force me into this useless dance with you is another hour I clock up on your punishment board.”

I hide a shiver of excitement and thread a bored tone through my voice as my feet click on the solid wooden floors down a wide hallway. “Give it up, Mason. Not every woman you meet is destined to fall at your feet in abject worship.”

I come to a halt when the hallway forks into four crossroads. With all that’s happened so far, I feel like this is some sort of ominous sign.

Mason stops behind me. His breath brushes the top of my head as the heat from his body engulfs me. Every single cell in my body stands to attention at the ominous feeling that washes over me, as if the moment is an important one that I can never retrace my steps from.

I feel his touch a second before his fingers trail down my arms, eliciting a deep shudder he can’t miss. “No. But
you
are. You’re destined to fall at my feet and stay there. Not because I want you to, but because you’ll like it. And because you won’t want to be anywhere else. I promise you that, Keely.”

Chapter 8

mason

M
y fingers trail over the delicate skin of her inner wrists, and I can feel her stiffening herself against another shudder. I want to tell her not to bother. I already know her body’s reaction far better than she thinks I do. But I hesitate.

I’m not even sure who I’m hesitating for. Her, for the skittishness she’s desperately trying to hide. Or me, for the line I know I shouldn’t cross but can’t help caressing and toying with. Everything she’d said on the deck was right. Well...almost everything. I have no intention of taking her fast. I already did that on top of the car in Montauk. And as much as the need pounding through me demands a fast, bough-breaking release, it won’t be that way.

Not with her.

If
I end up taking her.

I told her when we first met that I won’t play any games with her. And I still won’t.

But the fact of the matter is that I still haven’t picked up the phone to Hani; haven’t done anything to alleviate the diabolic edge riding me. I’m playing a dangerous game of chicken with myself that could explode into a steaming shit storm if I’m not careful. I know this. And yet, I’d let Zach talk me into this project, knowing very well it will keep me here in an environment I detest. With people I despise even more.

But not this woman in front of me.

I don’t despise her. I’m compelled by her. My intense fascination is enough to make me want to do things to her that would probably be against any law in any land.

“Are you going to respond to what I said?” I ask, noting her tripping pulse with dark satisfaction.

“No. I’ve decided to let you exist in your deluded little bubble.”

I almost smile at her tart tone. She’s contrary in a way that mesmerizes me. In another time, I’d have loved to break her down, piece by piece, and build her up again just the way I wanted her. To do that with her now would need time, patience. Neither of those commodities is available to me right now. The strain I’m under is too much to even think about adding to it.

“Okay, princess. I’ll let you keep pretending everything we’re
both
feeling right there, right now is all in my head. Which way do you want to go?” I ask, reluctantly lifting my fingers from her skin.

“I came to see the whole yacht, so it doesn’t matter which way we start, does it? And please don’t call me princess.”

I step up next to her, and she has to tilt her head up to look me in the face. My gaze trails over her vulnerable neck and the pulse beating at her throat, and admit I like the sight of it a little bit more than is healthy. “Why not?”

Her beautiful green eyes shadow before her eyelashes sweep down, hiding her expression from me. “Because I’m about as far from a princess as you can get.”

From any other person, I’d have believed that statement was a coy attempt to gain my interest. From her, I believe she really means it. Just as I believe it stems from whatever pushed her into throwing herself in an icy sea two weeks ago.

I shrug internally. I’ve never been the sort of guy who doles out pet names. Although, if I allow myself to think about it, she reminds me of an alley cat—all claws, sharp teeth and vulnerable underbelly just itching to be stroked.

It’s that vulnerability I want nothing to do with. I don’t want to know her weaknesses. The temptation to exploit them will be too great. My subtle, insidious ability to twist weaknesses to my advantage was the reason my mother called me a monster when I was eleven.

It was the reason my father handed me keys to his kingdom on my eighteenth birthday, slapped me on the back and toasted to my genius when I quadrupled the family fortune by the time I was twenty-five.

It was the reason Cassie was a sitting duck the moment she entered my orbit. She never really stood a chance.

Thoughts of Cassie bring the clarity of mind I need. “Point taken,” I say to Keely.

Her eyelids start to lift, and I turn away, knowing the tiniest hint of interest would tip me in the wrong direction. I head down the first port hallway, away from the entertainment lounges.

I enter the first room and let her wander in. As she passes me, I smell her perfume and stem the need to breathe her in like a greedy, sick fool, regardless of the fact that it’s exactly what I am.

Enough is never enough for you, is it? You have to take and take and keep taking until there’s nothing left! You know what you are? You’re fucking EVIL!!

I block out Cassie’s voice and keep my eye on Keely.

She walks down the arena-like cinema, taking in each detail of the seats and the adult accessories attached to the plush upholstery. She picks up a remote and examines the buttons before she looks at me.

“Are there no privacy settings on the seating areas?” she asks.

“What’s the point? Isn’t part of the thrill of being in this room the exhibitionism?”

The room is too dark and she’s too far away for me to see if my response makes her color rise, but I see her shrug. “I’ve seen a few of the Indigo jet blueprints. I just thought clients here would be given the same options.”

“Zach didn’t design this boat. I did.”

Her head jerks up. “You? I thought you were just refitting the adult entertainment areas? From what I recall of the initial design, this cinema was already here.”

I fold my arms. “It was, from when I owned this boat.”

Her mouth drops open in that adorable way that makes me have to lock my knees to keep from moving in her direction, and reacquainting myself with those lush lips. “
You
owned this boat?”

I don’t respond. She knows who I am. Or at least she thinks she knows enough about me. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve ruthlessly erased about eighty percent of my past from every known, and most unknown, databases. Everything she’s been exposed to so far has just been online fluff pieces gossip whores find salacious. 

I hide a grim smile.

If they knew the truth...if
she
knew the truth, she wouldn’t be standing here, running her hands over the velvet cushion like she wants to fuck it.

“Are we done here?” I ask tersely. Watching her hands move like that over the seat is making me a little nuts. And in my world, a little nuts isn’t the same as most people measured it to be.

She glances at me for a second, and I know something in my voice has thrown her. She debates whether to heed that inkling of danger, then pulls out a mini-tablet to make a few notes. “I’m done here.” She throws the words out in that sexy, snappy way that makes my cock jerk to full attention again.

I walk her to the next room. She stands at the door and peers in with a look of puzzlement on her face as she glanced down at her tablet. “What room is this? It’s not in the blueprint Zach sent me.”

“No, it’s a new addition. One of many, in fact.”

She frowns. “Why wasn’t I told about it?”

“What you were or weren’t told is none of my concern. As to what this place is,” I turn and flick on a switch. She winces a little as the room is flooded with harsh light. I adjust the mood switch to a warm indigo and flick another switch. A gentle sparkling mist—a late addition I concocted two days ago—starts to fall from the ceiling. Her mouth drops open on a soft gasp as the first cloud of mist touches her face. I watch her reaction as her tongue darts out to taste my creation.

Her eyes widen. “Wow, it tastes...incredible. Wait, it’s not poisonous or anything, is it?”

“No, it’s not poisonous and you can’t overdose on it, but it’s set on a timer.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because it can get addictive.”

A sultry smile spreads across her face, and she licks more of the mist from her lips. “I’ll say! What exactly is it?”

I watch her face for her reaction and reply, “It’s an Aphrodisiac Shower.”

“Fuck!” She bolts out of the spray and glares at me. “You didn’t think to tell me that before you doused me in that shit?”

“Two seconds ago, you thought it was incredible.” I study the color in her cheeks and her dilated pupils and wonder how scarlet she’ll blush when my cock is deep in her ass and my hands are wrapped around her throat.

“Fuck that. You should’ve told me.”

She heads toward me, and I curb the urge to slam my hand across the doorway to pin her against the frame so I can test if she’s as wet as she was the last time I tasted her pussy. She’d gotten so wet so fast that day that I’d later wondered if it’d been real or a fluke of my imagination.

Whatever it is, I know I should walk away, but I can’t. I feel my near obsession with her reaching worrying proportions. And that terrifies me. Because she thinks she knows what lies beneath my uncivilized exterior. But really, she has no fucking clue. And I can guarantee that she won’t like what’s underneath when she finds out.

“Keely,” my tone reminds her of our agreement.

She glares harder and the urge to test her boundaries claws through me.

“Don’t give me that tone. You want me to not swear, then you tell me upfront what I’m walking into. At least tell me what you’re doing before you start flicking switches. Or the deal is off.” She tucks her bag under her arm and brushes her hand over her skin in an attempt to get rid of the mist.

“Fine,” I reply. “Then I guess I should tell you that once imbedded in skin, the aphrodisiac’s effect doesn’t wear off for four hours?”

Her eyes bulge. “What? Are you serious?”

“I don’t joke about my inventions.”

“Your
inventions
. You mean you designed this? I thought you were...” Her words taper off and she frowns.

“A what?”

Her head tilts and strands of her blonde hair caress her neck and cleavage. I don’t even bother to avert my gaze. She has a beautiful pair of tits. Ones my hands and mouth are itching to touch and taste. I return my gaze to her face when she keeps silent. The look in her eyes has slightly altered, and I know the effects of the aphrodisiac are in her bloodstream now.

I’ve never been into forced sex, but God, the
Fuck Me
look in her eyes make me wish she was mine to do with as I wish. And I wish many, many things with this woman.

She shakes her head. “It’s...umm...your online bio said you’re the CEO of S3, the hedge fund company.”

“Yes, that’s true. But I’m also a few other things.”

A corner of her mouth lifts, and she glances over her shoulder at the dissipating mist. “An aphrodisiac inventor, obviously. Where the hell do you learn to become an aphrodisiac inventor, anyway?” She’s pulling her wrap from her shoulders in a slow, sexy movement that makes my temperature spike.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to fuck you. And you don’t want that, do you, Keely?”

Her mouth compresses. “That’s not even remotely funny. And it’s the sort of thing that could see you slapped with a sexual harassment suit.”

I straighten. “But I’m not your employer. We don’t even work together. I’m just your tour guide. Shall we continue?”

She stares at me for another few seconds before she nods. I walk her into the next room.

“This one is pretty much self-explanatory.”

She gazes warily around the spank room as if she expects one of the many whips and floggers to attack her in a moment. I restrain a smile and watch her walk around the room, checking a list on her tablet.

“I have eight gadgets on my list. There are nine in here,” she snaps with a touch of exasperation. “I can’t start emailing clients the activity sheets if things are going to be added and taken off without my knowledge.”

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