The Tycoon's Secret
Page 13

 Melody Anne

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

It was better if she was mad. Let her stomp off and throw a tantrum, because honor, or not, he was a full-blooded man, and her standing there with her breasts heaving, and her eyes on fire was working him up all over again.
What he really wanted to do was forget about his night and simply throw Sierra on his bed, which happened to be only a short distance behind her. He felt himself rising underneath his towel and cursed as he bent down and took some water in his mouth to rinse.
“Don’t you dare ignore me, Damien Whitfield. I’m trying to talk to you!”
Damien slowly turned, surprised at her tone. She was getting fully worked-up. Heck, one kiss, just one. Was that really so bad? He took a menacing step forward, feeling adrenaline rush through him. She quickly took a retreating step back.
He was in charge – he was hungry – he really wanted to prove how easily he could have that tone of voice of hers changing. Within minutes, he could have her begging him for more, not yelling at him from a doorway.
He stopped only inches from her, taking delight at the desire he saw in her eyes.
“Is this better, Sierra? Do you want my full attention,” he whispered, his hand stroking the bone just below her neck, running his fingers across the top of her blouse. Her nipples instantly responded to his light touch, poking through the thin material of her bra and shirt, causing him a whole lot of new pain in his groin. He barely managed to hold in the groan.
“Well, uh, this is a bit too close…” she started saying when she finally gave up and closed her lips. He brought his hand up and traced her mouth, wanting just one taste. The way she was looking at him was making him come undone. One taste would be enough…
∞∞∞
Sierra felt her heart thundering in her ears. He was going to kiss her. She could feel it. Her mind screamed for her to kick him, yell, do anything but stand there like a statue. She should be turning tail and running.
Her body was telling her something entirely different. Her feet refused to retreat any further, and her nipples were pressing painfully against the cotton of her bra. Her core, oh her core, was on fire as sensations rocketed inside.
Her eyes glanced down, taking in his masculine chest, only inches away. She found herself wanting to lean forward and trail her tongue across his dark nipple. She wondered if he’d like the sensation.
How would he feel? Was he as solid as he looked, or was he velvety with a steel undercarriage? She suddenly wanted to know the answers more than she wanted to leave. She was caving to her body’s desires.
Damien leaned down, his head getting closer, and she wanted to shout yes, please, yes, but no sound could escape her closed throat. Why fight it? It was useless. She wanted him.
Suddenly, Damien’s phone was ringing again, causing him to pause with only an inch between their lips.
Ignore it, she silently begged, wanting to reach her limp hands out and tug him the rest of the way to her.
He quickly leaned back, the moment lost. She wanted to sob in despair. Why couldn’t she have gotten just one kiss first? She wasn’t asking for much; just a simple kiss, well, and maybe also to run her hands across the smooth skin of his impressively bare chest.
Sierra watched Damien speak a few curt words into his phone before he moved to the large dresser. She didn’t turn her head when he grabbed a pair of incredibly sexy black underwear and pushed his feet inside the openings, then moved them up his muscular thighs. His hands disappeared underneath the towel for a moment, and she found herself hoping it would fall.
It didn’t.
He kept his back to her as he grabbed a pair of fitted slacks and quickly tugged them on, only releasing the towel when his sculpted ass was covered. He hadn’t been so modest when they’d first come into the room and she’d been too embarrassed to look. When she did want him to show her his full package, he refused her. She couldn’t win.
At least the view of his back was enough to keep her heart accelerated.
Damien walked over to the small closet and grabbed his surprisingly bright blue dress shirt and slipped it on, further covering up her view. She managed to turn her head away and take in a couple of deep breaths.
Sierra didn’t even know who the heck she was anymore.
“I have to leave. We’ll finish…this…later,” he said as he turned back around and faced her.
She started to regain a bit of her sanity the more clothing he put on, though she had to admit he looked just about as good dressed as undressed. When he grabbed a tie and slung it around his neck, then began working it into a knot, her stomach clenched again. Okay, he looked just as good dressed as he did naked.
Tension was practically a living entity in his suddenly very small bedroom. They weren’t going to have any decent conversation in there. She should’ve known better than that. What woman follows a man into his room to tell him she’s leaving?
In her defense, it wasn’t like they were a couple. They were a supposed employer and employee, not that she’d done anything so far to earn the title of employee.
“Did you hear what I said?” he demanded as he paused to shoot her another glare.
“What? No,” she said with hesitation.
“It’s not that difficult, Sierra. All you do is nod your pretty little head and say, yes sir,” he mocked.
Sierra’s desire fizzled at his words - the mocking, arrogant, pig. After the enduring years of abuse from her father, she was surprised she wasn’t cowering in the corner, but instead of feeling terror of standing up to Damien, she felt excitement.
She was through with being a victim.
Sierra stomped over to him, not even noticing the look of shock on his face. She poked her finger into his chest, hoping her nail was biting into his skin, marring the perfect surface.
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again. Dogs and cats will be singing romantic ballads together before I bow down to you. I’m through letting men walk on me. You can run off to your little date. That’s just fine. But I will be waiting when you get back and we will finish this,” she said, her voice coming out in a mixture of a growling shout.
With slow movements, Damien reached his hand upward and cupped her wrist in his unyielding fingers. He took a step forward, leaving her no choice but to fall back, or else land on her butt.
He took a few more steps, making her stumble in retreat. She was thinking maybe it had been a bad idea to poke him so hard.
As he stopped, the look in his eyes melted her from the inside out. There was a look of anger in there, sure, but desire was burning out of control just beyond it.
“Yes, Sierra, we most certainly will finish this when I get back,” he whispered, his head moving down so the words were spoken against the sensitive skin of her ear.
He released her hand and she tumbled backward, landing in a heap on his bed. His stare froze her to the spot, the heat instantly rising to combustible temperatures with nothing but the look in his eyes.
One second he looked ready to pounce on top of her… then the next… he was gone.
Sierra heard the hotel room door shut, and she didn’t bother trying to move. Her body was so overheated, she was sure she’d melted his mattress.
She laid there for an incredibly long time, desire churning inside her, his scent surrounding her in the most pleasant ways. Eventually, she gained the energy to get off his bed. She figured she had a few hours to pull herself together before he came back.
She’d use the time wisely. With a groan of frustration, she went in her own bathroom and ran the bath. First step to relaxing was a nice and hot, scented bubble bath. Second, was to purge Damien from her head, her body, and her life. This game he was playing was getting too personal. It was time for game over.
Chapter Twelve
Damien rode the elevator back to the top floor. On one hand he hoped Sierra had gone to bed, giving both of them a chance to cool off, think first before they did something impulsive. On the other hand, he wanted her awake, standing by the front door while holding out a glass of wine and a seductive come-hither expression on her face.
Shelby hadn’t been happy about being dumped, not even a little. The first ten minutes of their date had consisted of him telling her why it wasn’t ever going to work. The next hour had been torture listening to her rant about what a jerk he was.
If he hadn’t been feeling so guilty about his ever-growing desire for Sierra he would’ve never allowed Shelby to vent that long. He would’ve coolly gotten to his feet and walked out the door. After an hour that’s exactly what he’d done.
She was too embarrassed over public displays to chase him down and slap him in the middle of the restaurant, but he had a feeling she wasn’t through. The look of utter disbelief in her eyes as he stood up had convinced him of that.
He opened the suite door, noting the place was dark except for a dim lamp glowing in the corner of the room. He decided not to flick the switch.
He headed over to the wet-bar and poured himself a glass of wine, the smooth taste of chardonnay easing down his throat.
When he turned around, his heartbeat skipped before starting again, only to go immediately into overdrive.
Sierra was walking from her room, looking toward the floor, wearing only a small silk nightie with a matching robe loosely tied around her slender waist. Her hair was damp, telling him she’d just gotten out of the bath. Her scent was drifting toward him, a combination of vanilla and spice, the same smell that had been haunting him all week.
The soft looking satin was caressing her thighs about halfway between her knees and her core, perfectly modest, and yet unbelievably sexy at the same time. He had an instant need to slide his hands up her smooth legs, see if she wore anything beneath the shimmering satin.
Damien slowly set his drink down. He could only be pushed so much in one night before he broke. He’d reached that breaking point.
The sound of his drink clinking on the glass table alerted Sierra to his presence in the room. She looked up; her expression fearful for a moment until she noticed it was him, then she relaxed before once again tensing.
“I wasn’t expecting you back for hours,” she said as she stood by silently.
“You and I had unfinished business I needed to get back for,” he said, immediately going into hunting mode. He had her in his sites and this time he wasn’t letting her escape.
“Uh… I’m actually really tired, now. I…uh, think it would be better if we finished our talk in the morning. There’s really no hurry,” she slowly said as her eyes shifted to his steadily moving feet.
“No. You told me earlier how important it was to have this discussion, so let’s…talk,” he uttered, his voice calm, quiet, and predatory.
His eyes roved her sleek curves. Her breasts were obviously braless, softly swaying underneath the delicate satin of her gown, her legs defined, toned and incredibly appealing as the gown slid against them.
She was a walking vision, freshly bathed with nothing altering her appearance. No make-up covered her natural beauty; no bands pulled her thick mane of dark hair back in a severe bun. She looked innocent, appealing and ready for him to take her.
“Look, I understand your hesitancy in letting me leave. You hired me for a job. I agreed to do it. I just don’t get the job, as I’ve done nothing so far. I think we can work this out like reasonable, mature adults. I can go to the States for a few days, and then begin work. No harm done,” she said hopefully as she continued to retreat.