The Devil's Playthings (5 page)

“Emma,” he said in a low purr.

She glanced up into his eyes. “Luc,” she responded, and he nodded.

The young
men
served their dinner
, and she decide
d she would have to ask Rosa their
name
s
as well.

D
inner that evening was more relaxed, like their clothes, and Luc’s mood. They ate traditional Mexican fajitas, with all the works, and even had fried ice cream for dessert. They also had strawberry margaritas, and by the time dinner was finished, she’d had two.

“Would you like to go into the salon, Emma,” he asked politely.

“Yes, please,” she nodded, and followed him.

This night he pushed the button on the remote, and slow love ballads filled the room. A different night, a different mood, and he also played different music. Tonight a pitcher of wine filled with fruit sat on the serving table, and he poured two glasses, handing one to her. She sipped it eagerly, intrigued by the concoction. It tasted as good as it looked.

Tonight, she felt more relaxed with him, and when he asked her to dance again, she agreed immediately. And once again she felt the same heady intoxication as soon as he held her close to him. This time, though, as soon as he put his hands on her they went right to her hair. She had to admit, when Rosa was finished it looked very inviting to the touch.

“It’s very soft,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she practically moaned her response.

“Like your skin,” he said as his hands moved d
own to her exposed neck
.

“Yes,” she moaned again.

And then his lips moved to her cheek, then to her ear. One hand moved to her collarbone, then slowly into
her loose fitting shirt. Soon b
oth hands moved to the bottom of her shirt to pull it off,
but
she resisted. “Not here,” she whispered.

“W
here? In
your room?” He whispered back.

“Can we go slower?” She didn’t even know where that came from.

“Of course,” he purred, and exhaled. Then he took her hand and said, “Come with me.”

She nodded and followed him
. He led her back out the door
, and down a hallway like the one that led to her bedroom, to a large sitting room. Unlike the dining room and the salon, which had no windows, one wall of this room was entirely glass. The view was awe inspiring, with a sprawling city lit up beyond
the
m
.
He picked up another remote, and music filled this room as well.

She stood in front of the window
s, engrossed in the view. H
e appeared behind her, his movements as silent as always. She could see his reflection before she felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back toward him. Suddenly the view did not attract her attention as she stared at his beauty. An
d he returned her gaze,
his eyes moved down her body. She thought she could feel them on her, shivering as she always did.

He pulled her back with him until she sat on his lap in a soft, overstuffed sofa covered in colorful pillows. His hands were all over her, on her cheeks, her arms, her hips, and her legs. And he gazed into her eyes, to gauge her reaction. But just that alone made her weak, and she closed those portals to him. And then it happened, his lips f
ound hers. H
e took her breath away completely.

He kissed her gently, at
first;
slowly coaxin
g the reaction he wanted. W
hen he pulled away, her breath came in sharp pants. His hand moved to the top of her blouse again, and she shook her head.

“It’s okay,” he growled. And in this position she could do little to resist.

“Why am I so afraid of you?” She found the strength to ask aloud.

“Because like
prey, you sense I’m dangerous,” he answered smoothly, and in one movement he tore the front of her shirt apart.

She squealed, and tried to move away from him, but he pushed her down onto the sofa, and moved a hand to her shoulder. “Please don’t resist me,” he growled deep in his throat.

His hand moved to the small white bra she wore, and pushed it aside. Before she could protest again, his lips were on hers. This time he devoured her.

She could only moan into his hungry mouth, until he released her and began to nibble her ear, her neck, and her shoulder. By now she didn’t want to stop him. And when he moved to her breast, she thought she would pass out. The sensations going through her body were better than any drug she’d ever done. When his teeth raked over her most delicate skin, she screamed.

“Do you still want me to stop?” He asked her harshly.

“No,” she gasped.

“Yes,” he teased, and moved his mouth away. She shook her head fervently, and finally opened her eyes. The expression on his face, cool and controlled as she caught fire, showed he stayed composed through all of his torture. She felt confused.

“It’s enough for tonight,” he told her, and kissed her sweetly on her lips.

He pulled her off the couch gently, and then removed the shirt he’d destroyed. Next he took off his own shirt and gave it to her. She pulled it over her head, catching the scent of him and his body heat. Gone was the confusion, repl
aced immediately by desire
. She moaned a little, and when her head popped out of the collar of it, her eyes grew wide yet again.

When she saw him in his beautiful clothes, she had no idea at all what was underneath. She assumed he had a nice physique, but what she saw was not nice. It was raw, and strong, and all man. From his shoulders and biceps, to his chest and down to his abs, they seemed chiseled by a sculptor. He must have read her mind
, because he laughed,
and flexed for several moments.

“God, that’s beautiful,” she exclaimed. He snickered, and grabbed her under her back and knees and pulled her off the couch to carry her like a little girl. She laughed, because to him she probably weighed nothing.

And he carried her like that, through the house, up the stairs, and to her door, where he planted her softly on the ground. He kissed her on her forehead and strode back down the hall. She went to her bed that night wondering how she could get over her fear of him.
She removed the soft denim skirt, but left on his shirt. She was filled with the scent of him as she fell asleep.

The next morning, as she’d grown accustomed so quickly, she woke up in the beautiful white room. As if on cue, Rosa showed up to keep her company. Emma dressed in a black bikini, and a little black sundress and a pair of black heeled sandals. Why worry about
coming back upstairs to change?
Rosa joined her downstairs, and Emma waited patiently until Luc entered the room.

When he walked in this morning, unlike the others, Emma smiled shyly up at him. He rewarded her with a smile of his own. “Good morning,” she said warmly.

“Good morning to you, Emma,” he replied. Rosa disappeared, and the young server
s
carried in plates containing fruit and toast, and uncovered a serving tray on the table that held different jellies and jams.

She was happy for a lighter breakfast, after days of heavy foods. After several days of his care, she felt healthier and looked better. Her skin practically glowed from all the pampering. She ate a little, picking at her food and drinking all her orange juice.

“Emma, we are hosting a cocktail party here at the house this evening. I’d like you to go into the city and have your hair and nails done. Rosa will join you,” he smiled at her again.

Her eyes grew wide in shock. She could be dressed up and cleaned up, but she wasn’t the kind of girl who went to cocktail parties. She didn’t know what to say, or how to act.

“You know, Emma, if I thought you couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t try,” he said gently. “Just be yourself, and you will be fine. Women who listen more than they speak are so much more attractive.”

He’d said nearly the same thing yesterday, and she nodded. “I understand,” she said. He obviously believed in the saying
“
seen and not heard
”
. Anyway, his confidence in her bolstered her own.

“And you will be with me all evening, I will take good care of you,” he said with that beautiful voice.
“Use this to buy whatever you want,” he said as he handed her a credit card out of his pocket, t
hen he kissed the top of her head, and silently left the room.

She studied the card, which was black and had no logo or name, only a row of numbers.
She shrugged and carried it up the steps.

Emma was upset that she had to change yet again, but Rosa grinned from ear to ear as she prepared Emma for their outing. Emma picked a sharp black pant suit, with a short sleeved trim jacket and pleated pants.

Rosa nodded and disappeared as Emma changed, and when she returned she wore neat navy pants and a plain white oxford shirt. Rosa led Emma to a private elevator, then down to the first floor of the building.

The lobby was elegant yet simple with no furnishings, only beautiful plants and gorgeous chandeliers. A desk set off to one side was manned by two security guards in smart black suits and ties. She thought for a moment they looked like secret agents. They were big and br
awny, and both wore listening devices in their ears.
It looked so high tech. She knew that Luc was rich, but whatever he did he needed protection as well.

Rosa led her to the front doors, where a door man waited. He led them out to a waiting car, and
they were greeted by a
chauffer. He was a good looking young man with a bright smile and bright brown eyes. He drove them in a brand new town car, with soft leather interior.

They drove
into the center of the city
, and stopped
in the financial district
. Emma wanted to look at all the shops, but Rosa wouldn’t allow it.

“After your appointment,” Rosa promised with a smile, and
guided
her into a chic beauty shop. They were served tea an
d
cookies
bef
or
e
a
team of workers did her hair, nails and makeup
.
She used the card to pay the bill then added a generous tip. At least in her previous life she knew something about tipping.

She stared at herself in the mirror, questioning reality not for the first time. Less than a week ago she was in an alley, pumping drugs into her veins and having sex with men for money.
She looked down at her arms, but
there were no track marks. She looked at herself and saw a pretty young society girl, not a cheap hooker.
She shook her head slowly at her own reflection trying to disperse the memories.

She lost the desire to look at the shops, and asked Rosa to just return her to the apartment. Her sad eyes glittered with emotion as she sat at the table and waited for him to join her for
dinner. Emma wore a soft white tank top style dress, which hugged every curve
, and her white backless tennis shoes
.

Luc appeared wearing jeans and a soft blue polo shirt. Even dressed down he looked stunning. His muscles bulged at the tight el
astic at his bicep, and his lean
chest strained against the soft cotton. Even in her state of confusion her attraction to him couldn’t be questioned.