“I—I did,” I admitted. “I do.” I straightened my shoulders as I let the truth settle over me. “I’ve never—It’s not the world I live in,” I finished lamely.
“No? That’s a shame. Everyone should feel alive. Should smash up against passion and danger, against temptation and anticipation. You have to push the envelope sometimes, because otherwise how do you know what your limits really are?”
I opened my mouth to respond—to tell him that I got that thrill in my job, chasing and catching men like him. But I couldn’t go there, and I swiftly bit back the words.
“What?”
“I know I have an answer to that, but it’s gone.” I managed a wisp of a smile. “You steal my thoughts, Tyler Sharp.”
His grin revealed a dimple. “I steal a lot of things.”
There were many responses to that, but before I could organize my thoughts, the bell sounded at the door. I jumped, my arms going immediately across my body as if that would somehow hide my nakedness.
“No,” Tyler said, with a firm shake of his head. Whatever playfulness had been between us evaporated. This was the man in control again. The man who had told me to come here tonight only if I understood that I had to play by his rules. This was the man who had meant it.
“Sit,” he said, nodding at the couch.
I froze, my skin suddenly clammy. “What?”
“Sit,” he repeated, then led me to the couch. He put my knees on the cushions, my hands on either side of my hips. The bell rang again. “Just a minute,” he called.
“No,” I said “No way.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, then gently cupped my breast. His thumb flicked over my nipple, and I sucked in air. “You’re smart, Sloane. You understand the game.”
“I’m not sure I understand anything anymore.”
“I said I would win. You’re my prize, Sloane. To tease, to touch, to pleasure. But mine, nonetheless. Tonight, I own you. And that means that there are rules.”
Something that might have been fear riffled through me. Might have been—but I think it was really excitement. “I have to obey you.”
“If you’re here, you do. But you have the choice. You can put your dress back on. You can walk out that door. But I don’t think you’re going to do that.”
“Why not?” My mouth was so dry I could barely speak.
“Because I saw your face when I touched you in the corridor, the two of us surrounded by the waitstaff, pretending like they didn’t see. That they didn’t care. There’s a thrill in being exposed. In being just a little naughty.” He held my eyes, and I thought in that moment that I had no secrets from this man. “You may not break the rules, Sloane, but I’d bet good money that you’ll stretch them as far as you can.”
I felt my pulse kick up, and knew it was from the truth of his words.
“It excites you, doesn’t it? Knowing that you’re mine. Knowing that by surrendering to me, you’re capturing me as well.”
“Yes.” The word was a whisper.
“And you have captured me,” he said. “Because this isn’t about what I want, but about what you do to me. And dear god, Sloane, you have driven me to the edge.”
He drew his fingers through his hair and I could see the truth on his face. The heat, the lust. The intensity of his self-control. He was like a spring wound tight, I couldn’t wait for him to come undone.
“Tyler.” His name felt ripped out of me, and so help me, I wanted him to keep pushing, to spread my legs wide and to finally touch me and release this sweet, relentless pressure.
“So I think you’re going to stay,” he continued, almost conversationally. “I could be wrong. It happens on occasion. You might storm out of here and never look back. You might slap my face and tell me to go to hell. It is within the realm of possibility.”
“I might,” I said. I sure as hell should.
But I knew that I wouldn’t.
Chapter Nine
He turned, and without another word stepped out of my line of sight and into the foyer. I sat there, my heart pounding. My skin tingling. I was aware of every tiny hair on my body, as if I’d gotten lost in an electrical storm. Tiny beads of perspiration rose on the back of my neck. I wanted to bolt—and yet I wanted to stay.
I told myself it was because of the op—because I had to get close to the man, and how the hell could I do that if I walked out on him? But that wasn’t true.
I wanted to stay because he wanted me to. Because I’d seen the promise in his eyes of what was still to come.
And because, god help me, he was right—I wanted to bend the rules.
He came back into the room, just steps ahead of a waiter in a trim, black uniform who stumbled a bit before making a surprised little noise, then continuing on. I’m sure I made quite the picture, naked on the couch, my face turned toward the entrance, my hands on the cushions and my breasts exposed.
I didn’t slouch, though I wanted to. I had too much pride. But neither did I look at the waiter. For the first time since I’d graduated from the academy, I purposefully didn’t look at a face. Instead, my attention was entirely on Tyler—and his was entirely on me. I saw heat in his face. Heat and passion and possessiveness.
Raw desire burned in his eyes, and in that singular moment, I knew that I held the power. That I’d turned him on, wound him up. Not because I was naked and on display, but because I was naked and on display because he wanted me to be.
And that desire—that primal, sensual hunger—cut through me as well. I felt warm, alive with a feminine power. I wanted to be touched. To be claimed by the one man who had brought me to this point, to this sharp apex of desire.
Tyler.
As if he could hear my thoughts, the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, like a subtle promise of things to come.
Blood pounded in my ears and I barely breathed as the waiter hurriedly parked the cart and converted it to a small table. I heard the rattle of dishes, and then the distinct pop of a champagne cork.
Then Tyler was signing the check, and the waiter was gone, moving like a streak toward the door. The moment I heard the click, I gulped in air, then watched as Tyler’s coolly composed expression softened a bit. “You see? There’s a thrill in being naughty—no, don’t say anything. I can see the truth on your face. And you gave him a bit of a thrill, too, I think. If nothing else, he has a story he’ll be telling his buddies into his old age.”