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He touched my back again, the same light, familiar caress he’d used on the way over here. My hands started to shake.
“Enjoy the artwork,” Devin drawled. “We’ll see you later.”
Then he smiled at me, but it wasn’t a nice smile. I glanced at the woman as the two of them headed for the door. I knew Devin was going to fuck her after drinks, because everything in his body language said that. He’d probably do other things to her, dominant things, since she was obviously his sub. When Fort turned to face me, I shivered.
“Dev didn’t want to come here,” he said in apology. “I made him.”
“Why?”
He took a breath and let it out before he answered. “I wanted him to see you, to understand why I can’t just…” He looked around.
“Can’t just what?”
“Can’t just get over you.” His voice hitched and he lost a little of his confident swagger. “You’re wearing over-the-knee socks again.”
“I wear them a lot.”
“They’re black, damn it. And your hair’s up…again.”
I stared at him, going cold. No, not cold. Frightened. Excited. Hot like a coal about to spark.
He took my hand. “Can we go somewhere to talk? Just for a minute? Somewhere private?”
“Why would we do that?” I asked as he led me toward a corner. “You can’t come up to me after months of silence and say stuff like…like, ‘I can’t get over you.’”
“Here’s the thing.” His hand tightened around mine. “I need to touch your legs, and I need to put my fingers on your neck, and if you don’t come with me somewhere private, Jewels, I’m going to do it here.”
I gaped at him, feeling those things as he said them, his hand on my leg, his palm against my pulse. “You said we wouldn’t work. You were insistent on that point. So what do you want from me?”
“I told you.” Even as he said it, he guided me toward the back of the gallery, to the corridor that led to offices and bathrooms.
“The party,” I protested. “I have to stay.”
“The party’s over. The artist left.”
He took me through a wide door at the end of the corridor, into the gallery’s workshop, the room where they prepped paintings for hanging and constructed made-to-measure frames. It smelled of lumber and chemicals, and the paint-sullied walls had piles of old frames stacked against them. There was no one here, and the only light came from a weak plug-in lamp in the corner.
He backed me against the wall between two stacks of frames, hemming me in, forcing his leg between mine. He pulled one of my thighs toward him, finding the top of my sock and squeezing the skin there. I felt his hand on my neck, on my face, and then the kiss. Hot, hard, demanding. As I’d done before, I shoved him away.
“No. Fucking no.”
We stared at each other, squared off like combatants, our hands in fists at our sides. The way he looked at me made my insides melt. His lips were set. He didn’t give me space, and I didn’t really want space. I just wanted a minute to process some anger before I fell.
The right decision would have been to leave then and there, to walk back out to the gallery and mingle with the remaining guests, but I wasn’t going to do that. The wrong decision was to stay where I was, daring him to take me if he wanted me so badly. That was the decision I made, flattening myself back against the wall, squeezing my legs together because he’d already made me so wet. The gallery was out there, Goodluck’s agents and caterers, his super fans, but I didn’t care.
Fort came at me a second time, and this time I didn’t push him away. I let him trap my hands and shove them over my head so I had to arch my back. His cock swelled against my belly as I hung there, acquiescing to his force. I never decided to give in and let him kiss me. He just took what he wanted, turned my face with his other hand and held it hard, and thrust his tongue between my lips.
Chapter Nine: Fort
Now that Ihad her against me, in my power, I couldn’t touch her enough. But I had to be careful. That was what I told myself: as long as I was careful, I could have her body and not do her any harm. I’d be a kind sadist. I’d be clear about our boundaries so she didn’t feel used or manipulated.
Well, I’d do that later. First, I had to shove my tongue down her throat.
She responded as if she liked it, humming and pushing her body against mine. I let go of her wrists and grabbed her hair, then shoved her wrists back against the wall when she dropped them. “Over your head,” I ordered, and she obeyed.
I hoped no one would discover us here. We were hidden between two piles of lumber, in the darkest corner of the room, but we’d be heard. She moaned, I growled. After I pulled her hair down from her chignon, I wrapped my fingers in it. I could hear metal hairpins hitting the concrete floor, make-out shrapnel. I left her mouth to trace a line down her neck, half kissing, half biting the tender skin. I shoved a thumb up under her chin, pinning the back of her head to the wall as I lapped at the hollow of her clavicle.
Until I saw her out in the gallery, I’d forgotten how she stole my control. I’d come to get a glimpse of Juliet, nothing more, after months of restraint and good behavior. But once I touched her, once she turned to me, all reason fled. The way her eyes widened in surprise—and a little fear. Her bare, pale arms, the hair, the goddamned socks…
