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We remained silent as he headed toward the beach, although I had about a million questions I wanted to ask him. He was obviously rich, given the Porsche he was driving. Did every wealthy man have a flaming red vehicle in Miami? Maybe he was a drug dealer.
Good going, Alex. You know how to find the best people.
That wasn’t fair. I didn’t even know his name. “Who are you?” My confrontational tone had returned.
He chuckled, the deep baritone fluttering all the way to my damp pussy. “Jameson Stark.”
“What do you do, Jameson, besides playing Superman in your off time?”
“I own a club.”
“A club. Like a dance club?”
“Something like that.”
I bet he catered to the rich and famous. “I’m oh-so sorry to inconvenience you.”
His gaze was a combination of admonishment and disbelief. Maybe I was acting a little over the top. I blamed exhaustion. He’d likely blame my upbringing.
“It’s not a problem,” he said more quietly than I’d anticipated, which made me feel even guiltier for my behavior.
Whew. I couldn’t stop trembling from the sound of his voice. I stole another glance and sighed. He was much older, the hint of gray hair at his temples adding to his aristocratic look, but there was a roughness about him that attracted me more than anything. He was a man who took control.
Why did that make my heart flutter?
As the minutes passed, I grew more uncomfortable being around him. His presence was powerful and even without uttering a word, his aura ticked off every box in my fantasy about the perfect man.
If there was such a thing.
As my cousin’s building came into view, I stiffened. I had no method of transportation, no job, and a bleak outlook on life. Even my little voice was laughing at me, the taunts fueling the encroaching despair.
Failure. Failure. Failure.
I reminded myself of what Jameson had just told me and my insides fluttered all over again. How could a stranger’s praise mean so much?
“You can let me off here,” I told him as he pulled into the parking lot leading to the garage.
“That’s not going to happen.” His tone was brusque, obviously not used to anyone trying to tell him what to do.
“You’ve taken too much time already.”
“Nonsense. I need to make certain you’re alright.”
It seemed my refusal to allow medical attention continued to bother him. I was shaken, no doubt about it, but my knocking knees and hammering heart had more to do with being in his presence.
“Really, it’s not necessary. I’m a big girl.”
“Obviously, it’s necessary, Alexandra. You are in clear need of direction in your life. And you will obey me.”
Obey. The single word brought another flutter in my heart, the draw to him so intense I realized I was holding my breath.
He made the statement as if he’d known me for longer than sixty minutes and I found myself unable to respond, nodding instead. As if the man knew what I needed in my life better than I could discover for myself. Why did the words ‘yes, sir’ play clearly in my muddled mind?
Was it because he was older that I wasn’t issuing my usual retort? I wasn’t certain but as he drove into the garage, lowering the window as the uniformed guard behind the small structure leaned in, I shuddered all the way to my core. As he arranged for his car to be placed in a protected space, I couldn’t help but notice he’d tipped the young man a hundred-dollar bill. Whether or not he was trying to impress me lingered in the back of my mind.
After pulling the impressive vehicle to the side, I watched as he climbed out, his intensity and control absolutely clear in his choice of vehicle and the way he moved. Every simple action he took elicited a powerful surge of lust that felt uncontrollable. I’d never been so flustered around any man, especially those around my age.
He took his time walking around the front of his Porsche, opening the door and extending his hand as if we were attending a fabulous soiree. When he pulled me to my feet, I’d never felt so small and invisible in my life. Yet the way he pressed his palm against the small of my back as he directed us toward the elevator set off another series of thunderous fireworks.
