Paradise Tempted: The Beginning (Paradise Stories) (5 page)

We'd stopped dancing. Holding me, he whispered as he stared at my lips, “Have dinner with me?”

“I...” I paused. “I can't.” I wanted to say yes. He was so good at this. He had all the right words, all the right phrases. My body still vibrated from where he touched me and a trickle of moisture released from my thoughts of him. I wanted more. I desired him, all of him. My wayward imagination stalled my answer.

“I have to work the bar again.”

“Call in sick. Don't you have a
in
with the owners?” He tweaked his lips into that half smile and the lower half of me fluttered with delight. I wanted that smile to be mine, to believe it was only for me.

I couldn't do that to them. My grandparents. I'd already told him about my parents' death: a chance encounter, a random act of violence. My mother had been shot first. The police believe she was trying to protect my father. He was killed second. They were found holding hands in a dark alley behind a lower casino in Vegas.

“Well, I can't leave you alone.” His smile continued. “Strange men in a bar. Who knows what might happen. Don't want you running off and marrying the first man that you meet.”

He was teasing me. It was sugar candy sweet and damnably upsetting rolled together. The truth underlined in his jest. I had met a stranger. I had married him, even if all pretend, it had happened. I was letting myself get caught up in the masquerade.

In an unprecedented move, I kissed him quickly. A sharp brush of my mouth on his before pulling away from him.

“Funny.”

His mouth was on mine again. If he was a fighter, I could image he was a world champion. He took no prisoners in his fight for my lips. I didn't stand a chance against him. There was no competition. I'd let him win every time.

“I wasn't joking,” he said pulling back from me. As I breathed heavily, like I did each time he claimed me, I noticed the edge to his voice. His eyes shifted to cold darkness. Something must have passed through his thoughts. Like a ghost, it was there and gone from him. He closed his eyes slowly and tenderly pressed his forehead against mine.

“I’ll come have dinner with you, instead,” he said. His eyes still closed as his head rested against mine.

“Okay,” I weakly spoke. I needed to break the spell and yet I didn’t know how.

We returned to the villa in quiet companionship. His arm rested casually on the back of my seat and he played with the hair at the base of my neck. I pulsed and clenched between my legs and shifted several times to quell the sensation. I tried not to envision his finger in me, or another part of him, that I longed for more and more as time passed. I was afraid we were on borrowed time as it was.

We separated without a word as he held the door for me to enter the main entrance. He took the stairs two at a time, while I passed under the staircase to the private rooms below. I feared he wouldn’t show for dinner like he promised. The First Wives Club was hosting a small dinner party in one of the private rooms. The main dining room was quiet except for a movie director and his mistress, the bald man who seemed to follow Cain, and the injured rock star who hadn’t spoken much since he’d been here. I stood removed from it all behind the bar.

Tonight I wore a black wrap dress, in hopes that Cain would appear. My hair was left to air dry and fell in loose waves. I didn’t want to wear my glasses, but after the hours of reading I’d crammed into the late afternoon, in hopes of diverting my lusty thoughts, I had to wear them to focus. I could hardly read the menu after a day of intensive textbooks or online study. I was wiping off a bottle to take to the private dining room when I heard his voice behind me.

“Got anything stronger,” he asked and the smile in his tone warmed me.

“On second thought, no more Grandpa’s Passion for me,” he laughed. “How about a beer?”

I opened the small beer fridge and pulled out a bottle. He waved off the chilled glass and wrapped his large hand around the base of the bottle. My eyes traveled the finger that had been inside me and I swallowed hard, crossing my legs to stop the throbbing down low. He tapped the finger against the glass and caught me staring at his hand.

“The best part of my anatomy, minus one,” he said as he raised the bottle to his lips. I couldn’t look away, yet I knew I should. Those lips did tortuous tempting things to me that I loved and hated. I couldn’t be with him. He was a stranger, but the attraction to him was greater than any polar force.

“Use them to fight with, don’t you?” I nodded once at his thick hands.

“I do,” he said and his eyes jumped up to meet mine. Dark chocolaty brown hit me with enough strength to make my knees shake. The words rang between us.

“So…um…when’s the next fight?” I tried to make small talk, but I wasn’t good at it.

“Let’s not talk about the fights, for now,” he sighed. A weight sat heavy on his shoulders. When I nodded my head to let go of the subject, I saw the pressure release and his back relax.

“Not busy in here tonight,” he said, stating the obvious while scanning the emptiness of the place.

“Private party for the ladies this evening,” I clarified. “You might need to hide. I think they want you for their entertainment again tonight.”

“I’m taken,” he said, staring directly at me. Thoughtfulness crossed his face. “What do you mean entertainment?”

“They wanted you to dance for them. I think they wanted a strip tease act or something.” I laughed falsely as I remembered the catcalls and encouragement for him to remove his clothes.

“I didn’t do it, did I?” His eyes warned me that he remembered this scene. He hadn’t done it. Instead, he grabbed me and held me against him to dance for them. By then I had the rock on my finger. After our nuptials, we danced again.

The time passed for us in small talk and chatter about her. She was a going to be a senior at Preston, where my younger brother attended school. Being older than him by two years, I’d skipped out of college after a year to continue to fight. The underground had turned to formal training and professionally organized events, until recently. Something wasn’t right with the last fight. Pitted against someone new, and relatively unknown to the circuit, I had crushed him, unintentionally. He was dead, nonetheless.

I didn’t want Sofie to know those details, so I was extremely vague in my answers. I didn’t even mention that my brother attended the same school as her. Abe was twenty-one Sofie was twenty-two. They would have been a more likely pair: studious, conscientious, and driven. I didn’t want to imagine that scenario. I wouldn’t be able to keep her, but I didn’t want to think of another man with her, either.

As the room finally emptied of its few guests, Sofie and I were served a pasta meal at the bar. She moved our plates to a table and we dined like a private party. The place was all our own. We continued to talk about her parents, her lack of siblings, and her quiet life. I longed to join her in it, but knew I never could. My life was not my own. I had a responsibility.

“So why Italy for our honeymoon?” I inquired, intrigued that she mentioned it so casually this morning. My fingers toyed with a beer bottle on the table.

“I’m studying abroad this fall. I’m going to Italy for the semester.” Her eyes avoided mine. It was the first mention of the near future. Plans set for separation.

“Why there?” I asked.

“I’ve just always wanted to go. My grandparents speak of it often. My great grandfather dreams of it. I was last there as a small child, and I’ve longed to return.”

I could hear the excitement in her tone. Travel to a new place, see new things, and have an adventure, those were the unspoken words in her voice. I wished I could run away with her, but I couldn’t.

“Hmmm….wedding, honeymoon, seems we’re missing something, though,” I spoke. She stared at me, confusion on her face.

“We haven’t had a wedding night,” I said, raising one eyebrow as the side of my mouth quirked up to tease her. Despite the low lighting of the room, I saw the blush that crept up her chest, between her breasts that were temptingly exposed. The slight pink crawled up her neck where my tongue wished to lick. I realized again that pink was one of my new favorite colors. She wore black but it looked too severe on her. In fact, I’d prefer to see her out of the color immediately.

I reached for her hand, covering it with my giant paw. Her fingers were delicate but strong, and I pictured them soothing someone in physical need when she was a doctor.

“Sofie, may I be so bold as to ask you to come to my room with me?” I suddenly wanted more privacy than the intimacy of this empty room. I don’t know why I asked so formally. I typically would have stood, slipped an arm around a woman’s waist, and she would know what I wanted. With Sofie, I took care.

She placed her hand in mine and stood before I did. Suddenly, I felt like I was the one being led instead. I followed her as she guided me through the short hallway to the staircase then tugged my hand as she directed us up the stairs. It seemed as if the hotel was empty of everyone but us. Upon entering my room, Sofie leaned against the closed door.

I turned to face her.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I reminded her. The night before I was too drunk to take advantage of her. Tonight I was too sober to control my desire. I wanted her, but I didn’t want to abuse the privilege of her presence. She surprised me then when she spoke.

“I want my wedding night,” she said, and she reached for the ribbon that held her dress closed.

I sensed that time was ticking too quickly and I was going to lose him soon. If we were going to pretend, I wanted one part that was real. Feeling him inside me, there would be no falseness on my part.

I pulled the string that held my dress and let the fabric fall loose. Underneath I wore another matching set of bra and undies, in black. I kept my eyes pinned to his. If he looked away, I would know he didn’t want what I offered. He didn’t want me. If he stared at me, it would be the slightest hint to move forward. I didn’t have to decide, though, as his mouth was on mine the instant the dress opened. His hands cupped my face, and my head lightly tapped the door from the force of his attack. His kiss was powerful. I again imagined his fighting abilities in the ring. He could take down an opponent in a flash. Only I wasn’t in opposition to him. I was surrendering.

His hands slid to my shoulders, where he tugged the dress, and it slipped down my arms to pool at my feet. I gripped his shirt and tugged it upward, our mouths breaking only for him to finish the removal over his head. His chest met mine instantly, and I was again pressed into the door at my back. My hands fumbled with his belt and he helped me remove his jeans. We were in the same position as the night before, except for one difference; we were both sober. I sensed there would be no stopping tonight.

We moved as one toward the bed, but once my knees hit the end, Cain pulled back. His hands on my shoulders forced me to sit. I was level with his hard length. I assumed he wanted me to take care of him, like he had suggested this morning. He surprised me when he knelt between my knees and tugged me to the edge of the bed. His fingers laced into my underwear and he slowly removed them. His eyes watched the motion of his thick hands, as they traced over my thighs several times, before forcing my legs to open wide. My most intimate skin was exposed to him in a way I had only imagined. When his mouth hit my center; I gasped in pleasure. He kissed my lower lips with the same intensity he kissed my mouth, and his tongue split me open. My hands gripped his shoulders then traveled over his head. He had no hair to run my fingers through, and I held his skull to me. I was soaking wet as he massaged me in a way I’d never known.

My legs began to shake and my toes tingled as flutters took over my lower stomach, which twirled in a rumble of excitement. I felt the release before it happened, and I cried out as I blossomed. I unfolded like a new bloom and flowered against his warm lips. I was still holding his head as he slowly moved back. Dark dangerous eyes looked up at me with mischief and pride. He knew he’d done something to me that I had never experienced before.