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"Yeah, I’m not doing that." I put my hand over his, slowly lowering it from my neck, and turned away from those golden eyes that captivated me. Instead of arguing with me, Coulter parallel parked in between two cars, then turned off the car.
I stared out the window, watching the people crowded around a man drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. I watched him curiously, trying not to think about the tension filling the car.
"I think you will, Aster.” Coulter’s voice was calm and confident. "I think you will, because you need to do it for your sister."
“You keep saying that.” I jerked my head back and twisted in my seat towards him, narrowing my eyes. “Maybe you’re lying just to get me to do what you want."
He shook his head, the golden mop of hair fell into his face. My cheeks heated again as Coulter's hand went to my shoulder, his finger tracing softly over my collarbone. “I’m not lying."
He traced his finger down my collar to the swell of my breast.
Pressed against Coulter’s warm body at night, handcuffed to the bed, I’d had a sex dream about him last night. The image of him hovering over me flashed through my mind, the thought of him sliding in and out of me while I was still tied to the bed, helpless to stop him. I was growing wet just thinking about it.
This man was dangerous. Too goddamn sexy for his own good.
I flicked my tongue out, wetting suddenly dry lips. “Then tell me, what's it for? How will this help Rose?”
I couldn't see his eyes, they were shrouded in the darkness of the car, but his finger continued to travel in between my breasts, making my nipples perk.
“When Rose, Bourbon, my brother, and I arrived, my father took some of Bourbon's blood. You're going to find out what he's going to do with it. You’re going to convince the doctor to tell you what.”
I sucked in a breath as his finger began to move down to my stomach towards the vee of my thighs. "And how am I supposed to do that, when even you couldn’t?”
“By now, she'll be drunk. Buzzed, at least.” A shoulder came up. “Her husband’s asked for a woman for his wife. You're a woman. Seduce her enough to get her to open up to you.”
“I don’t know if I could do that to a woman.”
“If she’s into women, you can. Even if she’s not…” His hand moved to my side, his fingers wrapping around my waist. He finally looked up, staring into my eyes as he slowly pulled me towards him. “You’re beautiful, Aster. Sensual. My own personal nightmare.”
My cheeks burned at his compliment and I pretended like his words didn’t make me purr inside like a kitty. "Why wouldn’t the doctor tell you what she’s doing with it?”
"You would make my life easier if you just obeyed orders without asking questions." He leaned in, cedar and suede and musk filling my nose.
I stared into gorgeous eyes. “I’m not one of your little minions."
His nose brushed over mine. "No, you're my little she-devil, come to torture me."
His lips caressed my skin, nipping right next to my mouth, and I closed my eyes, overcome by the sensation of him. His masculine smell filled my nose. The whisper of his lips spread heat across my chest and a tingle in between my thighs. I was drowning in everything Coulter, unable to come up for air. "And yet, I'm your prisoner, instead of the other way around.”
He stilled, then pulled back. “No more questions. It’s time. Take off your coat.”
I opened my eyes; he was back to the hardened man I was very familiar with. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a strange looking set of handcuffs, this time with a longer chain between the two cuffs, and what looked like a grown up version of a dog collar. “Do as I instruct, and we just may save your sister.”
* * *
The club was crowded, the music so loud that it vibrated through my body like a pulsing, pounding heartbeat.
The air smelled of smoke and lust, coated with sweat and lascivious appetite.
Coulter led me by a chain, one end attached to his wrist, the other to the collar at my neck.
He’d explained that this was one of his father’s special clubs, where back rooms were paid for with hefty fees and taciturn discretion, and that the collar was a form of protection for me.
We made our way through the crowded dance floor, the air hazy with infused smoke and red lights, like the mouth of hell opening up before me. A pit of nervousness grew in my stomach but I continued onward, encouraged by the tugging at my throat.
Coulter led me through wandering corridors and rooms, until finally, we entered a back hallway.
Darkness shrouded over me like a wet, suffocating blanket and I pulled in a sucking breath, trying to see Coulter’s golden mop of hair ahead of me. Blobs of black filled the edges of my vision, the tugging at my collar still insistent, the only thing keeping my feet moving, one after the other.
