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Margaux sighed and shook her head. “Darling, that’s both an honor and a tragedy. But come. If what you say is true, give me more time with you. Not in my body but in my arms.”
He gave her what she wanted, holding her close for nearly thirty minutes. The entire time, he thought of his pale-haired beauty, but he told himself it was only because of what Margaux had said. Finally, they got up. Margaux crossed the room to the overstuffed chaise longue where he’d dropped his clothes. She picked up his trousers and handed them to him.
As he dressed, a bittersweet feeling swept over him. Margaux had known him almost his entire adult life. He truly cared for her. But while he didn’t believe Skylar was his soulmate, he couldn’t deny she was something . . . and more than the puzzle he’d tried to play her off to be.
Which was why, as he dressed, he told Margaux about the Masquerade Party and about Skylar, although he didn’t mention her by name.
“She’s never come? And you couldn’t get her there?” Margaux asked, frowning. “That’s unlike you. You’re The Sex God of Manhattan, after all.”
“A most excellent nickname if I do say so myself. But it wasn’t that I couldn’t get her to come. She wouldn’t let herself come. She fought it,” he grumbled, hiking his trousers over his hips and zipping them closed.
“And you find that a challenge,” she added dryly.
“Of course.”
“But . . . ” Margaux prompted.
“What?”
“You wouldn’t have told me about her if she wasn’t more than a challenge to you, Julian.”
He sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. “You’re wrong— itisthe challenge. Of course, it is. But you’re also right. There is something about her that intrigues me. No— fuck that. Whatever it ishauntsme. It’s something I want to get to know better. Or maybe it’s that I seeherthrough the strong facade she puts up. There’s a vulnerability there, but what I was drawn to most was the fact that somehow, some way, the night we were together settled something in her. Renewed her self-worth even as it crushed it just a little more. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I think she’s using that night with me to justify completely withdrawing from any possibility of her orgasming in the future. Even so, what we shared was profound. I wanted more of it. I want to be buried deep inside her pussy and watch her eyes as she climaxes, but I want to be both her grace and her destruction at the same time. What is that?”
Margaux smiled tremulously. “That, my dear, that feeling is what a great love will always be formed from.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s not love. It’s desire. Curiosity. A connection, one I’ll admit I’ve never felt before.”
“One you intend to explore?”
“Until I’ve sucked it dry.”
“And yet, for all your effort, she hasn’t fallen straight into your arms.”
“No. And it won’t be as easy as simply asking her on a date. She’s . . . prickly.” Although he was in part to blame for that prickliness. He had, after all, suggested they get up on stage and fuck in front of the gathered crowd. He grinned as he recalled her wide eyes, both startled and aroused. “But I’m seeing her tonight. If she shows, that is.”
Margaux smiled. “She’ll be there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that feeling you’re talking about? The desire to be both her grace and her destruction? That’s never one-sided. She wants the same from you, and that feeling won’t let her say no.”
“She ran from me, Margaux. Twice.”
Margaux raised a brow. “But she didn’t say no.”
He chuckled. “Touché.”
“I know you, Julian. You’re naughty. You’re audacious. And you’re driven. You’ll figure out a way to break her free from whatever is holding her back. The true question is whether you’ll allow yourself to break free, too.”
17
The day after the awards banquet had spun by in a blur of spreadsheets and financial calculations. Despite it being Saturday, Skylar had brought work home and ensconced herself in the small office of her brownstone apartment, laptop open on the brushed nickel desk, surrounded by dueling computer monitors, her printer, and empty coffee cups.
She’d kept her focus on work, but that hadn’t stopped thoughts of Julian intruding quite frequently.
She couldn’t stop thinking of his beautiful blue eyes. His scent. The way he’d knelt before her in the hotel suite and kissed her pussy over her dress.
But she’d also thought about his dedication to escorting despite his highly prolific career as a journalist. And how even as he’d interviewed her for his article, he hadn’t hidden the fact he still wanted her. In fact, he’d communicated that message quite boldly. Given the way they’d met, it didn’t surprise her that he loved the thrill, the adrenaline rush, the excitement of showing the unsuspecting public one side of himself while at the same time teasing them with how much more there was to him.
