Inner Core: (Stark, #2) (17 page)

There are palpable bolts of electricity sparking between us. We trade short glances, and our eyes admit to our obvious deep connection. I feel timid and restless, and he looks both confident and wary, a rare mixture for him

“White?” Daniel asks as the sommelier approaches us.

I bob my head and let him order, silently chanting Ian’s words.
Forgive and forget, forgive and forget.

“Mrs. Stark, how are you doing this evening?” It's the friendly waiter who served me my in-room dinner on my first night at the hotel. I nearly choke on my wine. Daniel sends a radiant smirk my way, looking at me from under his lashes, a coy look that opens a wide gate in the depths of my stomach, releasing swarms of wild butterflies.

“Here, let me help you, Mrs. Stark.” Daniel's eyes dance devilishly as he gently pats my back.

I frown at him, only to be rewarded with an askew smile that expands until the smile lines in his cheeks appear, framing the light in his eyes. I coquettishly watch him, enthralled.

“I love the sound of that,” he murmurs and I hasten to put on a great show of pretending not to hear, focusing on the sterling stamp on the back of my knife. But my inner smile stretches to an impossible size.

“How are you, Hales?” he asks, a degree graver.

“I guess better.”

His expression becomes blunt at my reply.

“I’m glad.” His hand slowly reaches for mine, hesitantly at first, then squeezes it warmly.

For a moment I’m caught in my thoughts. Ian’s suggestion wrestles with my insecurity, and unfortunately, the insecurities hold the upper hand.

“Stop,” Daniel whispers.

I slightly tilt my head, looking at his soft hazel eyes, confused, blinking away my short spell.

“Stop looking for reasons to disqualify me.”

I take a deep breath, willing that my decision to forget and forgive take over. My answer is a quiet nod, and we look at each other tensely and full of intent. Daniel attempts to distract me with some small talk, and his efforts are fruitful:  gradually my edginess subsides and we sink into a pleasant dinner conversation.

As he cuts a chunk of the juicy steak he suddenly halts, putting his fork and knife at the edge of his dish. He levels his stare with mine. I pause at his sudden change of mood with my chilled glass of wine against my lips. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I would take it back, Hales. If I could.”

I put the glass down with a slightly shaky hand and bite on my lip. “I know,” I say in a dainty voice. His eyes capture mine with a deferential gaze. As he opens his mouth to speak I raise my hand and shake my head. “Forgiven and forgotten.”

He lets out a sigh, as though his tension has been defused.

“I love you so much, Hales. It doesn’t work for me without you.” His hand covers mine, warm and adoring, unadulterated sincerity radiating from his eyes. In synchrony we inch up and lean toward each other for a soft, lingering, chaste kiss. This moment, his brief touch, his scent, him. An arsenal of emotions surge in my chest.

As the tension between us clears, our conversation and the wine both flow pleasantly. I'm not sure what exactly makes me do this, but before really considering my words I blurt, “The forgotten part goes both ways.”

His eyes dart up and he flinches, at once tense. He sighs, his hands roll into fists, then he nods. I chew on my cheek, knowing just how edgy he gets even from an indirect mention of Brad. We continue to eat, clearly thinking about our short exchange of words.

“You know, Daniel, we, us...it's so difficult.”

He puts his fork down and waits, his jaw stiffened, eyes intent on me.

“There are times in which I really don’t know where this thing we have begins and where it ends.”

“It doesn’t end,” he snaps, low and upset. “Didn’t we just declare everything forgotten?”

I wave for the server and as he approaches I ask for a pen and some paper. Daniel's eyes taper as he watches me.

“We are like this chart,” I say, drawing a chaotic, volatile graph. “This is how I feel when I’m with you.” I send Daniel an affectionate glance. He chuckles. “And this, my love...” He smiles wider at my endearment; I draw another chart with a calm flat line and a few minor ups and downs. “...this is normal.” I blink at him. “Got it?” He chuckles again, shrugging, and takes the paper from my hands. Once he has it, he draws a smiley on it.

Huh?

“And this is how I feel when I'm with you.” He smirks, dismissing my illustrated lecture.

“And anyway, Hales, normal can never be truly amazing.” He raises his eyebrows, elated. “Let me ask you something,” he says, rewarding me with his utmost bad boy glance. “You sure you want to tame me?” He looks me square in the eyes, a look of certainty in his own.

Who am I really kidding? He totally sees through my BS. I want him just like he is, rough and impulsive. I want him untamed, feral, unadulterated, Daniel
.

“Well, you know how it is,” I begin, inexplicably feeling a flush warming my cheeks. A crooked side smile blooms on his teasing lips.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.” He doesn’t try to hide his amusement.

“When you're good, you're just so sweet and considerate and attentive.” I smile at him and he smiles with an arched brow, waiting for the rest. “But, when you're bad, sweetheart.” The stretch on his lips expands. “You are just superb. You drive me to all these deliciously sinful places that leave me tantalized and craving more.”

His wicked smile broadens to a full-blown smug smirk. Reaching his hand toward me, he cups my face at the delicate area under my ear. “You mean you love me just as I am?”

“Guess I do,” I say, toward his approaching lips before they eagerly connect with mine. My body’s heat rises drastically, but cools down a notch as the waiter approaches us. A small steady burn remains to stay. While clearing our dishes, the waiter starts a casual conversation with me. As I speak to him, Daniel moves his chair to sit close to me.

“Cut the chitchat, Hales,” he whispers and I look at him, puzzled.

What now? Can’t I talk to friendly service providers?
Noticing the start of our conversation the waiter nods and takes our dishes in the kitchen.

Daniel gestures with a tilt of his chin at the waiter
.
“The guy with the tie will excuse me. I’m dying to have you now!” And his words are like a surge of endorphin to my nerve endings, leaving me moist all over but my mouth. I swallow hard past the dryness in my throat and nod. It takes Daniel less than a minute to take care of the bill and leave a generous tip. He reaches for my hand and tugs at me to follow him. And follow I do, eagerly.

As we get in the elevator, Daniel nods to the elegantly dressed elderly couple standing by the inner wall. The lady subtly scans us both and smiles. I glance over at Daniel from under my lashes only to meet his blazing, darkened eyes simmering into mine. His earlier statement spirals through my mind in waves of whispered incantation, and I find myself losing the ability to stand straight. I rest my hand behind me to the wall. This doesn’t go unseen; Daniel’s eyes narrow, and the trace of a knowing smile blooms at the side of his lips. The glances we trade turn into one pointed stare full of charged feral energy.

When the elevator slows to a stop, without shifting his gaze from my eyes, Daniel reaches for my hand and with a firm hold pulls me after him. I can feel the electricity crackling through our fingers. Hormones now fuel my every step.

“Christ Hales, I want you so bad I can hardly see straight.” Daniel’s sandpapery voice trails all the way between my thighs, inflaming my already burning fire. My first try with the card key at the hotel door fails miserably. My second try has the same results. I lose my ability to try a third time when Daniel spreads his hand on my tummy and pulls me against his firm body. He takes the key from my lethargic hand and with a stable grip inserts it til the tiny green light blinks, finally giving us the means to disappear behind closed doors.

Still holding me from behind Daniel walks us to the bed then turns me and gently pushes me onto my back, my upper body slightly inclined, resting on my bent elbows. He takes a couple of steps back and runs his thirsty eyes over me. Distracted, he shifts his eyes to stare at something that rests on the nightstand behind me. I pivot to follow his gaze, trying to fathom what caught his attention, to find the Holy Bible sitting next to a leather-covered New Testament.

Huh?

“These will need to be relocated as far away as possible from the bed,” he says, deadpan.

“Why is that?” my forehead creases.

“I’ll be struck by lightning with those rested here, from what I’m about to do to you.”

I raise my eyebrow, momentarily speechless, grasping his intentions.

With a prowl like carriage, eyes heated, in graceful slow motion, he saunters my way, while yanking his belt from its loops. When it's free he holds it like a long leather whip. I swallow hard, not able to take my eyes from his intense hazel irises. He turns his inviting gaze down for a fraction of a moment, studying the belt stretched between his hands as though planning his next move. A few golden strands of his hair fall on his forehead, and one platinum lock slides over his right eye. I swallow a sharp breath, feeling a knot expand at the bottom of my stomach that pulses heat throughout my body.

He throws the belt onto the bed and with one swift move lifts me up and pulls my dress over my head, making my heart accelerate faster than a particle accelerator. I lick my lips, waiting, wanting. He pushes us both onto the bed, then he reaches for the belt with one hand and sets it next to my shoulder. He lifts both my hands straight above my head, his stare all the while locked with mine, and in no time my hands are bound together, with the belt tightly secured around them.

My dismayed, open mouth is sealed with a dazzling kiss that makes my breathing severely erratic. Daniel stretches over to grab my iPod from the nightstand and presses play before adjusting the headphones on my ears.

“I'll be right back, baby,” he whispers, moving one of the headphones aside, then gently bites my earlobe, sending a delicious current through me. Looking at me, he runs a feather-like touch from my throat to my center before leaving the bed and going toward the door. I watch him in consternation but before I can let out a single word he sends me a glance over his shoulders and mouths, “don’t move.” He grabs some large dark round object from the table by the door and steps out of the room. I lie there confused, bothered, and immensely aroused, every fiber in my body spasming in mad, uncontrollable need.

A wave of heat flashes through me as I think about what's coming next, lying here in this room, waiting. Just as I close my eyes, squeezing my thighs to get some sort of relief from the strained, trapped yearning, I notice a change in the lighting and shift my eyes to the door. 

“Miss me, baby?” Daniel asks in a casual tone above the music, with a mischievous glee. Startled, I nod, not able to get anything else out of my want-stricken body and unsteady respiration. He puts a bucket on the nightstand and slowly, as though he has all the time in the world, takes his clothes off down to his boxers. I watch him, hyper aware of everything about him: the tanned tone of his skin, the sexy movement of his cut muscles, his carved neck, his wide frame and his handsome, masculine face. Without any further ado, he tugs the earphones from my iPod, letting Evanescence's My Immortal surround us. He dims the light, giving the room a soft, seductive atmosphere.

Daniel sidles next to me, his head propped on his bent hand as he gazes at me with flaming eyes that bore into me. He brings his other hand inches above my navel. I arch at the touch of a chilled drop of liquid on my skin, raising immediate bumps all over my body.

Still watching me intently, Daniel brings the ice cube from his hand to his mouth, holding it between his teeth. I watch him as he inclines his head and lets the coolness flutter lightly over my stomach, torturing me with a slow trail up toward my ribcage. The cold leaves my skin teased and burning. With the first touch of the ice on my nipple, a lust-saturated moan escapes my parted lips.

Daniel leaves the freezing cube there for a long moment til it almost aches but then wraps his lips around the frozen spike and lightly caresses it with his warm tongue. The sensation sends a darting, burning stream of fire to the very core of my groin, and I moan again, this time louder, producing feral sounds. He moves to face me, watching me intently, his mouth hovering, barely touching mine. Soon the intrusion of his tongue into my mouth is a welcome surprise of coolness and heat. I counter by milking every inch of his determined examination.

He stops then, his features softening and his eyes turning into tender, golden hazel. I lose him momentarily to his wandering thoughts, then he shakes his head as though a switch was flipped within him.

“Fuck this,” he murmurs.

My eyes move to his, confused, as he very gently unties the belt holding my wrists together. Setting it aside, he turns to lie on top of me, covering me with his heat, bathing me with his divine scent. He laces his fingers with mine and stretches our hands together above my head, his every motion as tender as if I were a rare delicacy. His lips touch feather light kisses from my mouth to my neck, and with the same gentleness he sinks into me. Our movements become reverential. The only hasty action between us is the synchronized rhythm of our frantic hearts. Every exposed part of our naked, heated bodies is connected. We move closer into each other with every movement, our breathing and sweat blending as we become one. Daniel turns to look deep into my eyes and his eyes say everything, washing everything but him away.

“I’ll never hurt you again,” he whispers with utter candor. His stare is a blend of warm sincerity and remorse. A tear escapes my eye and he kisses it away, squeezing his grip of my hands tighter and sinking deeper and deeper into me. A tremor rushes through me and I groan with pleasure and overwhelming emotion.

We move in synchronized, rhythmic motions, every part of me under a massive weight of desire and love. His damp hair clings to my cheek as he nuzzles my throat, and I indulge in the feeling of it against me. The intense physical and emotional sensations I feel pervade to the depth of my soul. Our explosive breaking point finds us tangled in body and mind. We afterwards remain still in silent gratitude, embracing for the longest time.