Disgrace (31 page)

“Are you being honest?” I challenge his naïveté.

“Hmm?” His brow is furrowed with confusion.

“You said you got jealous of me, my work.”

His brows knit tighter together. “I did say that.” He draws in a breath. “But I am not going to stop you working, Sam. I will deal.”

His tone is sincere, but I am uncomfortable, knowing that the underlying feeling is still there. If it is a fraction of what I felt seeing him with Peitra, then it’s too much.

“I could maybe cut right back,” I muse out loud. His gaze is fixed on me, but his face is implacable. I trace the rim of the glass absently with my finger before sucking the remnant of the sticky liqueur into my mouth. “There is really only one client I would have a problem letting go.” He doesn’t hesitate to fill in the blanks.

“Leon.”

“How did you—” I start but he interrupts.

“It’s pretty obvious he needs you for something, and I know it’s not sex,” he teases.

“Oh…wait, why not sex?” I challenge his assumption. His correct assumption.

“I mentioned something about your fantasy, and he asked for first refusal. He wouldn’t ask if he was already fucking you, now would he?” He counters my challenge with a knowing arched brow.

“I guess not.”

“So you’ve never had sex with him?” His hesitant tone belies his earlier certainty.

“No. I decided early on that I needed a friend so much more than I needed to get laid. I had nothing, no one, and I couldn’t risk losing him. Sex complicates things.” I sip the too sweet liqueur, Jason’s gaze is intense, but I don’t feel his questions are intrusive. I hate secrets, and I have nothing to hide when it comes to Leon. He’s my best friend.

“You never considered him boyfriend material?” His tone is sceptical, and I smile because I understand why.

“He’s very attractive, yes, and I adore him, but no. I love him as a friend. I know if it was a choice between sex and the other for him, there would be no contest.” I sniff out a laugh.

“The other?” He frowns.

“His sexual preference is for me to beat the shit out of him.” The need to sugar-coat is completely obsolete with Jason. I like that; it’s sort of refreshing.

“He’s a Dom!” His shock is a little surprising. Perhaps I did need to soften the truth with some obscure, flowery prose.

“Ninety nine percent of the time, yes.”

“He won’t go to anyone else?” His jaw tenses with the question.

“We’re working on that, but he’s very stubborn.”

Jason rolls his eyes. His response is curt, emphatic, irritation fixed in his narrow eyes. “No, he is smart. I wouldn’t want to give you up, either.”

“Care to find out what you’re missing out on?” I tease.

He laughs loudly. “Ah, I think we’ve established when that will happen, beautiful.” He takes my fingertips into his mouth and nips the tips. The waiter comes and refills out liqueur glasses.

“We did.” I smile at our impossible pact. “Jealousy hurts, and I don’t like the idea that I…” I stifle a laugh at the irony.

Jason finishes my sentence. “…that you are causing me pain?” He raises his brow but smiles. His hand cups my face, and I lean into his warm palm. “The only pain I can’t handle is the thought of losing you.”

“Wake up,” His deep sexy voice filters into my subconscious, but my body is too weary to respond. He seems determined to rouse me from my blissful sleep. We rested after our walking tour, then Jason took me to the most amazing restaurant high on the hill overlooking the city. Countless courses of exquisite food and too much wine left me almost fit to burst when we came home. Making love until the early hours did me in, and I am pretty sure I passed out with the last earth shattering orgasm Jason drew from my helpless body. I groan and resist my senses’ return to the land of the living.

“Wake up, beautiful.” His soft lips cover mine when I mumble my objection. He continues to pepper my face with a hundred kisses, and I finally giggle when I realise this is a battle I will not win. I like the fight all the same.

“If you want to fuck me, you didn’t have to wake me for that,” I grumble.

“Somnophilia is not my style.” He chuckles and I blink my eyes trying to focus on his face. It’s still dark outside, and I feel like I have been asleep for five minutes. I can’t focus to see the hands on my watch, and squinting at the clock on the bedside table hasn’t helped, because that is obviously wrong. It reads two thirty, which would mean I have been asleep for just twenty-five minutes. “You need to get dressed. Something black and wear the flat pumps you bought today. We need to be quiet.” He rolls off the bed, taking my covers with him. I squeal and try to grab the sheet before it completely vanishes, but I am nowhere near alert enough, since my reflexes are still napping.

“What time is it?” I close my eyes and instantly feel the pull of exhaustion. I start to curl onto my side when I am lifted with no effort at all and unceremoniously dumped onto my feet.

“It’s just after two thirty, and we don’t have much time.” His face is alight with mischievousness, but it’s too early to share his enthusiasm. I am not a morning person even if, technically, this feels like the middle of the night.

“Jason, I am tired; please let me sleep,” I whine.

“Sleep when you’re dead, beautiful. I want to show you something very special.” His smile is a delicious mix of seductive and excited. He looks like a kid in a toyshop, and that in itself makes me a little giddy, too. He is dressed in black jeans, a long, slim fitted, black, roll neck sweater and black trainers. He helps me into a similar outfit, his large hands pulling and tugging me into my clothes. His urgency makes me laugh.

“Where are we going?” I giggle when, from nowhere, he snaps a black beanie on my head. My hair hangs loose around my face, which causes a deep frown.

“Can you tuck your hair inside the hat?”

“Are we doing a bank job?” I snicker but start to tuck and fold my long hair into the hat.

“Maybe.” He winks and nods with satisfaction at my now tamed mane. “Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and practically drags me out of the apartment and down the stairs.

The night air is crisp and cool against my face. My breath forms light clouds with every exhale. I am grateful for the warmth of the hat, although I suspect that isn’t the reason I’m wearing it.

It’s a thirty-minute walk from my apartment to the Coliseum, but at the pace Jason sets, we make it in fifteen. I’m a little out of breath but completely exhilarated by our clandestine adventure through the deserted city streets. The ancient monument looks magnificent at night. Spotlights illuminate the structure from the ground and cast a bright light over the hundreds of arches. Each archway in the bottom two tiers has its own light, almost golden in appearance. But by the time the light reaches the third and what’s left of the fourth tier, the shadows cast an eerie glow, and the arches feel more like the empty eyes gazing out from a different world.

Jason pulls me tight to his side, and we walk from the main entrance around until we pass a second main entrance. Jason stops at the front of one of the access arches that are now gated. He wriggles his brow conspiratorially and pushes the emergency access gate. I hold my breath, wide-eyed, and just waiting for the silence to be broken with the howl of sirens. But the only sound I can hear is the thump, thump of my heart pumping an overdose of adrenaline around my body. I chance a nervous glance around but quickly follow him inside. He leads me down corridors, tunnels and stairs until we are below the arena floor level. The wooden floor has long since rotted away. The crumbling stone dungeons for the slaves and the remainder of rooms that housed the animals are all that is recognisable in the decay of this mini underground city.

The quiet is strangely peaceful, especially when I stop to gaze and take it all in, this moment and this feeling of being in a place so ancient. The sense of what happened here all those years ago causes my blood to chill. I shiver and Jason wraps his arms around me, his warm breath kissing my neck as I continue to look up and around at columns, archways, statues, and row upon row of stone seating, reaching to the gods. It’s darker inside, but the light from the exterior is enough to see everything, but even if I couldn’t, I appear to have an excellent guide.

Jason starts to speak the minute we stop, telling me everything from the different materials used in construction to where the noblemen and Emperor would sit. He leads me through the building, talking so animatedly about what would happen here, holding my hand in this moment and conjuring images that transport me back to a more brutal era.

“Jason, this is amazing.” I am totally blown away, my vocabulary not nearly extensive enough to do my feelings justice. His smile widens with my praise.

“You like?” His smile is tentative, but his voice is filled with justified confidence.

“Very much.” I rise up on my toes to kiss him lightly. His arms pull me tighter, and his mouth crushes against mine. His tongue sweeps in, dives and entwines with mine. His attempt to steal my breath is successful. When he releases me, I nearly collapse, grabbing his forearms to prevent my fall.

“I want to fuck you, Sam.” His gravelly tone and the heat in his eyes are like a mainline shock to my core.

“Here?” I can’t help the little moan that escapes my throat at the idea.

“Yes.”

“Won’t we get caught?” I try to look around, but his hand cups my face, and his eyes scorch a direct hit to my clit.

“There is always that possibility. You said you didn’t do public sex, but I really want to fuck you now…right now.” His voice is hoarse, and he steps against me, pushing me flush against the rough wall.

“I was forced to have sex in front of Richard’s friends. I don’t consider this the same thing at all.” Jason stiffens, and his dark eyes darken with anger. I place my hand on his firm chest, pleased his heartbeat is just as frantic as mine. He relaxes under my touch. “And there is
nothing
I wouldn’t do with you.” I hold his gaze for an eternity before he smiles a wicked grin.

“I’m very glad to hear it.” He growls and crushes my lips once more. One hand slips behind my head to protect me from the hard rock and rough, unbelievably erotic invasion of his tongue. His other hand is quick to release the buttons on my pants. I help him push my jeans to my knees. I work his belt loose and do the same to his jeans. His cock springs free, and I quickly take its heavy weight in my hand, wrapping my fingers and moving firmly up and down. I sweep the pre-cum with my finger and quickly suck it clean before I resume stroking his rock-hard length—silk over steel, heavenly. His hips rock forward into my grip and his hand dips between my legs. I sigh when his fingers slide easily between my soaking folds and sink inside. He languidly drags his middle finger along my centre from entrance to clit. I tremble with each pass and whimper, eager for more.

Agonised by his teasing touch, I sag with relief when he removes his hand and places his cock at my entrance. But I am trapped at the knees by my jeans, and I know I am going to die if I can’t have him deep and hard. Oh, God, I want him fucking me hard.

“Jason, from behind, please,” I beg.

“Really?” He voice sounds as ragged as I feel.

“I need you hard and deep, and that’s not gonna happen with my legs trapped.” My voice holds all the desperation I feel between my legs.

“As you wish, beautiful.” He spins me round and roughly grabs my hips. I barely get the chance to steady myself when he thrusts inside. So. Fucking. Deep. My body starts to shake, and I can’t draw in any air. He has pushed it all from my body with each hard pump of his hips. It feels so good, I can’t take another breath; all I can do is take him. I feel lightheaded and dizzy. He grinds his hips, and a squeak escapes from the back of my throat. He pulls back and surges forward. This time, I suck in a deep breath, preparing my body for the intense pleasure and borderline pain that thrills me with every pump. I throw my head back and cry out. The sound echoes in the night and bounces off the silent stone surrounding us. His drive is relentless and punishing, and I love every single bit of it. I push back to meet each thrust. Our bodies collide with a wild passion I have never felt before. He pulls my hat from my head and fists a handful of hair, pulling it and arching my neck back.

“So fucking beautiful.” He growls and roars as my body takes over. Every muscle clenches and crashes with the first wave of orgasm that hits us both like tsunami. His hips move faster, skin slapping loudly, his fingernails hard against my soft flesh and the pull on my hair just keeps me soaring until another climax takes hold. Bright white lights flash behind my eyes, and the sounds of our panting are drowned out by the blood pumping and rushing in my ears. My legs give way, but I don’t fall. Jason has me supported in his arms. I am aware he is quickly pulling my jeans up and speaking, but I haven’t come back down to earth yet; I am still floating, but my lazy smile vanishes when I recognise the word his lips is forming.

“Guard!” The next thing I feel is his strong hand dragging me at a flat-out pace as we run for the gate we had entered through an hour ago. Our feet pound the pavement once we reach the street, and we don’t stop until we reach the bottom of the Spanish steps. I fall into his arms, I throw my head back and I laugh out loud. I feel so alive, so unbelievably happy. I sigh when I finally stop laughing. His smile would shame the sun as his dark brown eyes search my face. They hold so much love. Can I tell him I feel the same? What would it mean if I did? I think I do; I’ve never felt like this. But if I tell him, will everything change? I told Richard I loved him and he used it like a tool for torture. It changed everything. I don’t want anything to change. I like this, what we have, I like it just the way it is. But if I don’t, when his eyes are begging for the words, will he be upset? Will he still want me?