Sweet Seduction Stripped (Sweet Seduction, Book 7) Read online

  I couldn't talk. If I talked, I'd vomit.

  Silence for an infinite length of time, or so it seemed.

  He could kill me, so easily. The muscles on his thick arms were rock hard, as though he was restraining himself from doing exactly that.

  "I've been good to you, haven't I?" he murmured, his face nestling into the back of my hair, inhaling deeply. "I've taken good care of you, baby, I know I have." His hand smoothed down over my stomach, what little was inside churned. His too large palm laid flat over my pubic bone, not cupping me, but letting me know he could with a simple flex of his fingers. "I know what makes you scream my name," he growled. "I've spent hours learning this body, what makes it burn."

  I'd stopped breathing. My vision had turned completely black. My heart fluttered uselessly inside my aching chest, like a dying bird beating its wings one final, futile time.

  I could feel his erection pressing into my rear. I'd never felt true fear until this second.

  "All I think about is being inside you, near you," he said, his lips finding skin down the side of my neck. "You drive me crazy. All night long I want to be here on this bed, balls deep in that so fucking sweet pussy. I'm consumed with the need to possess every part of you."

  He knew. Sal must have told him. He felt threatened and he was going all caveman.

  This would not end well.

  I tried to find a place inside me that I could retreat to and hide. I tried to block out the sensation of his tongue on my skin licking, his teeth nibbling, the rock of hips against my butt. I couldn't. Oh, God. I couldn't. This was going to be bad.

  "And you are mine, Amber," he growled, biting hard on my shoulder, making me cry out in pain involuntarily, then suck in a shuddering breath of air at the fact I'd made a sound at all.

  Somehow I was sure if I remained silent this wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

  "Baby," he soothed. "I'd never hurt you."

  Liar. He was hurting me right now.

  "I love you," he added, sucking on the skin behind my ear.

  It would have lit me on fire in the past. It would have had me pushing back against all that silken hardness. It would have had me begging for more.

  I just whimpered.

  "You still sick?" he asked, shocking the ever loving crap out of me. "Baby?"

  Did he not know? Had Sal kept his promise? Was this all over something else?

  I was so fucking confused.

  "Yeah," I managed finally, my words breathless, making him rub his arousal up against my body, a reaction to my low, inadvertently husky, voice.

  "Baby," he moaned. "Fuck, I want you, but if you're still sick I won't push."

  Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. My hand came up to my mouth, covering the relief that wanted out on a scream.

  He didn't know. He couldn't know. He wouldn't be this caring if he thought I'd tried to run or I'd met another man in a pub.

  I was safe. As safe as I could be lying next to a murdering criminal. For now I was safe and my body, against my better judgement, relaxed.

  "There, baby. That's it. You're so wound up, anyone would think you're hiding something from me."

  And the fear and panic came back.

  The sadistic bastard was playing with me.

  He crushed my body against him, his hand flat on lower abdomen, pushing my butt cheeks against his erection.

  "If you were, I'd have to punish you," he whispered, slowly rocking, as though threatening me was getting him off. "I don't want to punish my princess." Another soft kiss, another thrust of his hips. "But I will."

  His hand moved from my belly and onto my hip, he pushed me onto my stomach, a position I had never before considered to be so heinous. Vulnerable, my back to the beast, I couldn't see what he was doing; one of his strong hands holding my body still at the top of my spine, just below my neck, the other had disappeared.

  But the bed was rocking, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the increase in his breaths. Like Sala earlier, jerking off to my forced dance routine, Jaxon was doing the same to my fear.

  Bile coated my tongue and I started to struggle. Panic making me lose all sight of my goals; to hide my knowledge and terror long enough to figure out how to move Dad, and then leave.

  "Fight me, Amber," Jaxon growled. "It only turns me on more."

  A sound of distress left me. If I'd needed proof that he wasn't the man I'd thought, this was it.

  "Please," I whispered, but his now harsh breathing drowned out the words.

  "Jaxon," I tried. Louder. Desperate. "Please don't."

  He heard me. A low growl falling from his lips.

  And then he was off the bed and storming to the ensuite bathroom, slamming the door behind him and leaving me... confused.

  What the hell? He stopped? I'd wanted him to, but I hadn't thought he would.

  I curled up into a little ball, eyes on the slim line of light I could see under the door to the bathroom, and just breathed.

  Scared, so fucking scared, and now this. I didn't understand Jaxon. I couldn't work him out. He was one thing, and then he was another. The dark, evil, villainous side of him, mixed with controlled, gentle restraint.

  I knew what he was capable of now. I almost expected it. But walking away right then, when he was obviously trying to punish me? It made no sense.

  And the confusion just addled my brain.

  I heard the shower come on. I waited for his return. But he took so long and I was so emotionally spent, that I eventually fell asleep. My dreams filled with dark shadows and hidden horrors, that I knew would jump out and get me, but they never did.

  I woke to sunshine streaming in through the window and an empty bed.

  Stunned I'd fallen asleep when so close to the enemy, I reached over blindly and felt Jaxon's side of the sheets, finding them cold. Had he not come to bed afterwards?

  I didn't want to feel reassurance and gratitude that he'd stopped when I'd asked. He didn't deserve it. But my body was on a roller coaster of mixed and volatile emotions. Not exactly up one minute and down the next, but certainly on a high of relief one second and consumed by fright on the following dip.

  I rolled out of bed and crossed to the ensuite, flicking the switch as I went inside. I noticed the mirror first. Cracked, right down the middle. Then as my eyes swung to the shower stall, I took in the missing tiles and blood stained grout.

  I hadn't heard a thing. He'd railed on the bathroom in near silence, taking out his frustrations on inanimate objects and therefore not on me. I sagged against the vanity, hand pressed to chest, sucking back air. Closing my eyes I prayed to a God I'd abandoned when he let my mother die in a needless car crash. I wasn't sure I could keep doing this, and the dawning horror of forcing myself to leave my father to his plight made me feel ill.

  The lid on the toilet made a thunderous banging sound as I forced it out of my way. So little in my stomach but somehow I still managed to puke the lot of it up into the bowl.

  A warm hand on the back of my neck had me stilling. Soft words and a wet cloth on my forehead had my eyes filling with tears.

  No. I couldn't keep doing this. His care, his loving touch. And a bathroom that needed remodelling.

  "Baby," he purred. "Have you been to the doctors to have it confirmed?"

  I shook my head.

  "Too soon?" he asked, more aware of my dates than I was. Probably already calculated when he thought we'd managed to conceive as well.

  I sat back, clutching the flannel to my head and watched him warily. He was dressed for the club already, and it couldn't have been much after eight. He leaned back against the cupboards and held my stare. His steady, unflappable pale blue gaze told me everything I needed to know.

  I'm on to you, it said. I know what you did last night.

  Then why hadn't he acted on it? Why that particular scene, and then retreat?

  An unpredictable foe is a dangerous one. Jaxon was the epitome of danger.

  "I want you in the club today," he suddenl
y said.

  "The club?" I asked, dumbly. So unbalanced right now.

  "I want to keep an eye on you." Oh, God. "Make sure you're all right if this vomiting continues."

  Fucking hell. I couldn't tell if I was coming or going, and it was starting to make me shake. My whole body trembling, with fear and uncertainty, shock and anxiety, relief and confusion.

  "I've gotta head out for a meeting, but I want you there by eleven o'clock," he added, starting to rise. "You'll make it, wont you, Amber?" Not really a question.

  I nodded slowly, my eyes never leaving the steel-blue of his.

  "Good girl. Got something I want to show you later." He smiled. It was a good smile. It brought out the flecks of lighter blue in his eyes, softened his hard jaw, made his whole features lift and brighten.

  I hated that smile.

  I forced one of my own back.

  "My poor baby," he murmured, reaching down and cupping my chin. At first gently, then much harder, until I knew I would bruise. "Don't know which way's up, do you?"

  I didn't move, even though in my mind I was shaking my head in agreement.

  He leaned down, his expensive cologne washing over me, making my stomach contract and saliva to pool threateningly in my mouth.

  "Let me make it easy for you," he said, voice hardening. "I own you, Amber Lane. I own this pretty face. This made-to-be-fucked-hard body. That addictive cunt. I own it all. And if you cross me, I will destroy every thing you hold dear. Understand?"

  Tears pooled in my eyes. I nodded my head, my chin burning from his still too tight hold.

  "Don't make me be this person," he whispered, his voice suddenly rough. "Be a good girl. Do what's right."

  It was almost a plea. As though he hated who he was becoming. Well, that made two of us.

  "I'll be there, Jax," I forced out.

  "Baby," he said on a sigh, his eyes closing briefly, his grip finally loosening. "I love you so much."

  Say it. Say it back, Amber. It's expected. Say it!

  He held my gaze, a breath of air escaped my lips, and I rasped, "I love you, too."

  "That's my girl." He stood up and walked towards the door, leaving me on the floor.

  Then as he reached the threshold he stopped.

  "Paid your dad's bill, baby. You don't need to worry about him."

  He didn't look at me as he said it. He didn't growl it threateningly. But it was a threat. Plain and simple. Mentioning my dad again, reminding me why I couldn't run.

  I waited for him to leave the bedroom, then waited another ten minutes more to be sure he'd truly gone.

  Then curled up in a ball on the tiles of the ruined bathroom and bawled. Sobbed. Let my heart out all over the ceramic, left my sanity on that hard, cold floor.

  I allowed myself ten minutes of self pity, then showered, dressed and headed out the door. Phoning the hospice on the way out of the garage, I checked on my dad, gave nothing of my turmoil away, and made sure the bill had been paid and he was momentarily safe.

  Then I headed to High Street and Sweet Seduction Café.

  I was living with the nightmare, how much worse could Eric Shaw be?

  I needed help. Desperately. I needed an answer and I had nowhere to turn.

  Just three years of casual conversation through the type written word. I had to trust Eric wouldn't have put that kind of effort into a cover. Surely? I had to trust the man I'd seen on that screen. If I see it, I remember it. In every exacting detail.

  And not once had Ric given me the impression he was playing me.

  Jaxon had said a lot over the years. Words whispered in my ear, against my skin. He'd done a lot too, but that, rightly or wrongly, had been blasted out of the realm of believability when I looked at the photo of him shooting a man in the head.

  His softly spoken, sex roughened words, and gentle, tender touch meant nothing, when pitted against an image recalled in my mind.

  I needed help. I needed some clarity.

  I had nowhere else to turn.

  God save me, because this was a risk that could end everything. My life. Dad's. Even Eric's.

  How do you ever really know someone?

  You don't. Jaxon had proven that fact.

  Chapter 8

  What Do You Want?

  It looked innocuous enough. Quaint even. Moulded glass, framed by dark wood, giving it an old English pub vibe. The doors at the front were manual swinging ones; people pushing through to the warm glow of lights and soft hum of music inside, or coming back out holding black take-away coffee cups with hot pink writing on the side.

  I stood on the wide pavement, infuriated to note my heart was beating too quickly again. Glancing up and down High Street, I wondered if Sal was watching me at Jaxon's request. Did I have a shadow? Would he follow me inside?

  Ric had said Jaxon wouldn't, so I had to assume Sala wouldn't as well. But, what would Sal think when he saw me enter this store?

  I walked to the lingerie shop next door instead. My courage failing me at the last second. Maybe if I browsed, bought a couple of items, then went to the café, it wouldn't look as suspicious. A last minute decision, not a premeditated one.

  I couldn't concentrate on the colours of the bikini briefs before me, my hand skimming over satin and cotton, fingering lace and elastic, as my eyes darted to the windows and front door. I'd already told the assistant I didn't need help. Which was ironic, because if anyone needed help right now it was me.

  Finally I resorted to type, grabbing some outrageous glittery spandex thongs and matching barely-there demi-cups, then thrusting them at the cashier. She didn't even bat an eye, just rang them up on the register, accepted my credit card without fuss, and packaged them up in amongst tissue inside a pale pink and white striped gift bag with fluffy pink bow at the top.

  I had held my breath when she ran the credit card through the machine, but it didn't set off any clanging alarm bells, nor was it rejected, so I had to assume Jaxon was allowing me a small buffer to access in case of emergencies.

  Any other day and I would have been impressed with the little bag hanging from my hand as I exited the store. Now it was merely a prop, held little value, and was forgotten as soon as I braced myself for Sweet Seduction's door.

  My life had irrevocably changed, and in some regards I wondered if that was a bad thing or not. I'd never intended on remaining an exotic dancer, it had only ever been a means to an end to get me through university while having to pay for Dad's care. As soon as I got my degree, I'd planned on finding a reputable job in the IT industry. Of course, that was all shot to hell when Jaxon stepped in and suggested I work IT at C&C Enterprises instead.

  At that point, it had appeared a no-brainer. Now I was aware of exactly the extent and type of business C&C were involved in, I knew I'd made an horrendous mistake.

  The smell of coffee and chocolate met my nose first, followed by the familiar sound of Lorde singing Royals. The place was packed. Hardly a spare table and chair to be seen. Even an area off to the side had people lounging in an oversized pillow pit. It startled me for a minute, then brought a smile to my face. What with the bold, in-your-face pink, black and white retro looking colour scheme and the fact that patrons were invited to sit on the floor, Jaxon would never be seen dead in here - ASI connections or not.

  I scanned the customers, then turned my attention to the staff behind the counter. None of them were my Ric. Letting a deep breath out in frustration, knowing the morning was swiftly passing and I needed to be on Queen Street and at C&C by eleven, I headed towards the coffee machine and the blonde standing next to it just finishing up with her customer.

  "Hi!" she announced cheerfully. "What's your poison?"

  I stared at her. How apt. Next she'd be offering me a gun on a silver platter, blood chaser on the side.

  "Um," I managed, pulling my gaze away from the smiling blue of her eyes. "I'm looking for Eric," I blurted, staring at the chocolates in the glass fronted case between us.

  There wer
e roses and elephants, hearts and penguins. Some dark brown, some white, some obviously of the milk chocolate variety, and then some coloured in yellows, reds and greens.

  "Eric?" she asked, making my eyes spring back up to hers. "Eric who, sweetie?"

  I sucked in a short, sharp breath of air and started flicking my gaze around the room. Had I made a mistake? My eyes closed as I reread his handwritten message on the back of that card at the Irish Pub. No, it had clearly said, Sweet Seduction on High Street. My eyes opened and took in the name badge and logo on the blonde's chest. Gen, Sweet Seduction Café.

  I was in the right place, so where was Eric?

  Shaking my head and pushing air out of my mouth to calm me, I stepped back up to the counter.

  "I'll just have a Flat White," I said. The blonde nodded her head slowly, clearly thinking I'd lost the plot.

  It was debatable. I was looking for a guy I'd only known through on-line chat-rooms in a shop my criminal and unstable boyfriend would not approve of. I'd definitely fit the criteria for losing the plot.

  "Take a seat," Gen, the blonde, said. "I'll bring it over when it's done."

  I accepted the change from the note I'd given her and turned to look for a place to hide. Spotting one in the corner, down by where I could only assume the music part of the cafe-come-chocolatier-come-music-shop was. I placed the lingerie bag on the table, gave another quick glance around the room to be sure Eric wasn't here, and then moved to take my seat.

  The moment I sat, the chair opposite me was filled with the shape of a large man, dressed head to toe in ominous black. Blond hair, deep blue eyes and a mischievous look in his tired eyes. He rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin and grinned. It was shockingly intimate.

  "Come here often?" he asked in a teasing voice.

  My mouth still hanging open at his cheek, I shook my head.

  "Glad you're here now," he added, and I couldn't tell if that meant he was glad, or that I should be.

  "Who are you?" I asked, bluntly. I'd never seen the guy before in my life, but that didn't mean he wasn't one of Jaxon's. Just because Eric said Jaxon wouldn't come in here, and so far Sala hadn't followed me in here, didn't mean he didn't have someone unknown to ASI who could.