Grace Street (A Chapter 8 Novel, #1) (15 page)

If she was Chapter Eight, then there were
only seven others before her. She shook her head at the absurd
notion. Of course there were more than seven other women he had
relations with in his lifetime. Maybe he just didn’t chronicle them
all. Perhaps he only recorded his writings about the ones that he
showed a particular interest in.

“Why don’t you join me,” she heard from the
other side of the shower door.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. She was
still fuming from what he had put her through. When she didn’t
respond and rose to leave, the door slid open, steam billowing out
all around her. His large hand reached out for her but she darted
past him before his grip took a hold of her.

“Elsa,” his voice boomed, halting her
attempted escape.

Glancing over her shoulder, his
well-developed, wet physique came into view and she was unable to
stop her eyes from taking all of him in – all 200 lean pounds and
six feet and however many inches he was.

He ran his palm over his face, wiping the
water droplets from his eyes and gave her an insistent look as his
eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“Ms. Cassidy,” he spoke strictly, “Shower.
Now.”

“No thank you, I’ve already had one,” she
huffed before leaving him to finish his shower alone.

She checked the state of her dress to find it
still too damp to wear and went back downstairs to eat. Finding the
soup that Mr. Black had made earlier, she reheated it and seated
herself at the table. Halfway through her meal, he reappeared in
only a towel wrapped around his waist and seated himself across
from her. She kept her eyes focused on her food, refusing to make
eye contact.

“How long are you going to be angry?” he
asked without inflection.

“Until I’m not.”

“That man doesn’t deserve…” he started
in.

She dropped her spoon loudly into the bowl
and glared up at him. “How dense are you? I’m not angry about
Patrick – I’m angry about what you did to me,” she said softly,
barely able to hold back from breaking down again.

She could feel her temperature rising slowly
and her body heated under his stern, green-eyed gaze. When her eyes
became blurred with angry tears, she only became more incensed with
herself for not being able to contain her emotions.

Her expression grew somber and she rigidly
choked back her tears. “Haven’t you ever loved before?” Her throat
began to close up and she forced her words out as she held his
chilly gaze. “Haven’t you ever been so consumed with someone that
you would do anything for them only to have them wreck you
completely?”

Mr. Black leaned over the table, his normally
insensitive eyes becoming liquid as he stroked her arm, but she
turned away and tried to make herself as small as possible, not
wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing her pain.

“How could you do that to me?” Unwelcome
tears began to stream down her blanched cheeks and she swiped them
away quickly.

In a flash, he was kneeling next to her,
pulling her to his chest.

“Let him go, Elsa.”

“You really are thick,” she pulled out of his
grip to face him. “I let him go a long time ago. I only called him
because… I don’t even know why. I drank too much and… And what
should it matter to you? I’m just another woman on your long list
of physical associations,” she blurted out. And just another
Chapter she reminded herself; a Chapter who was just like all the
others in his eyes.

Knitting his brows together, he backed away
from her and seated himself back at the table.

“Answer me: have you ever loved before?” she
repeated.

His jaw tensed and the gritting of his teeth
could be heard. “I don’t answer personal questions about
myself.”

Elsa pounded her fist on the table as she
straightened up in her chair. “Then let’s fuck and get this weekend
over with.”

He frowned as he pushed his damp hair off his
forehead.

“That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” she
griped.

“Sex isn’t the only thing I want from
you.”

Surprised by the sudden unexplainable
sentiment in his voice, she challenged him. “Prove it.”

Reaching across the table, he grabbed her
hands and turned them palm up as he circled his thumbs over them.
His lips parted but only a sigh was heard. He did this several
times, each time shaking his head as if he couldn’t find the words.
Elsa became entranced as she watched his inner battle play out
before her. His fingers continued sensually caressing her hands,
the erotic tingling moving up her arms and hardening her
nipples.

Hushed and barely audible, Mr. Black finally
found the courage to speak. “Yes, I’ve loved.”

He gulped hard and shook his head again as
his mouth opened one final time before he clamped it shut. That was
all he was going to share; three words that carried the weight of a
thousand. His dark eyes showed the tortured dullness of lost love
and she knew he had been punished in his own way by love’s cruel
fury and her heart ached for him.

Perhaps the harshness he had put her through
earlier was his way of exacting some kind of misguided revenge on
the one who had broken his heart. Or maybe he believed that doing
what he did would force her to let Patrick go and keep her from
ever loving another man again and being hurt.

In an instant, the realization hit her that
she was not just another player in his game, but his muse – someone
he was trying to manipulate into seeing things his way. In his own
twisted reality, he really did believe that he was trying to help
her. But she didn’t need his help or to be fixed. Most certainly
not by a man with the kind of demons he was fighting.

Her thoughts were interrupted when he
seductively moved closer, inching his way to her as his mouth
descended on her palms. His closeness was so bracing, she felt
drugged and her chest heaved as her breathing became uneven.

“Would you feel better if we stepped out and
got a bite to eat? Would you like that?” he asked, as he nibbled
the tip of her index finger playfully.

Elsa was too surprised by Mr. Black’s sudden
mood change to do more than nod her head in agreement.

“Go and make yourself pretty for me,” he
smiled as he flipped her hands over and kissed the tops of
them.

She managed a small tentative smile. “I have
nothing to wear.”

“You’ll find everything you need in the
closet. And wear the same shoes you came with, the ones that say
there’s a bad girl beneath your good girl exterior that likes to be
fucked in bad ways,” he licked his upper lip.

What was it about this man that made her
forget everything – time, place, purpose, logic… even the torment
he had caused her and the upsetting words he had written about her?
In that moment it was all forgotten. The world only consisted of
the two of them, both exposed and heart-broken. But what was it
that lured her to him?
It was how he looked at
her as if no other person in the world existed or mattered to him.
His insatiable hunger was present not only in his compelling gaze,
but his devastating touch.

If only he was this man all
the time. The one giving into his carnal desires and unable to
resist putting his mouth on her…This perfectly fucked up man in
front of her who had claimed her with merely a touch and a glance,
and a piece of paper with four words on it.

Victor
knew he was playing with fire by ignoring the rules of the game he
had set forth by taking Eight out in public. It was a rule he had
strictly adhered to with his other Chapters and for good reason.
Richmond was too close of a community and if was seen with her,
people would start asking questions. More than that, his
environment wouldn’t be controlled like it was within the walls of
their designated meeting place and he couldn’t replay the images of
their encounter on video to study later.

As he buttoned his shirt he shook off his
hesitation and reminded himself that it was only dinner. Anyway, it
would be the perfect opportunity to watch how Eight interacted with
him and others in her natural habitat. He chuckled under his
breath. Even though she could be ferocious at times, she wasn’t
some confined animal that was being reintroduced back into the
wild.

Just then, she came out of the closet wearing
the lacy white dress he had bought for her the day he had purchased
the brownstone. The fabric was just sheer enough that he could make
out her pink areola and hardened nipples under the bright bedroom
lights. She spun around showing herself off, and at the right
angle, he could even make out the shape of her uniquely puffy
labia, stirring his arousal. When she noticed where his eyes had
settled, she tugged her skirt down nervously and looked up at him
as if pleading her case. Yes, this little outing will be quite
interesting.

She seated herself on the edge of the bed and
slipped on her fuck-me pumps and her look was complete. He grabbed
her hand and pulled so hard he yanked her upright. Guiding her by
the shoulders, he led her to a full-length mirror and stood behind
her. He was almost a full head taller than her 5’ 6” frame and his
hulking physique shadowed hers. He watched her reflection in the
mirror as she looked them both over.

He held her by the waist and pulled her snug
against him. “We look amazing together, wouldn’t you agree?” he
breathed into her ear.

Her eyes roamed endlessly over his face and
their bodies as if trying to formulate a coherent thought, but she
remained silent. Victor studied her expression, unable to read her
thoughts. He liked that she was no longer an open book and that he
had to work for her trust now. She had given it too freely in the
beginning, but she was learning under his tutelage the dangers of
trusting a handsome stranger.

“I’ll take your stunned awe of silence as a
yes
,” he lifted one side of his mouth in a crooked smile. He
glanced at his own reflection and the look on his face suddenly
delivered a mental kick to his balls. The smile that had been meant
to be playful toward Elsa looked sinister. He stepped back,
suddenly feeling disgusted at the familiarity of it.

Staggering to the bed, he sank onto it as his
heart began beating rapidly out of control and his breathing
becoming more labored with each passing second. Not this again. He
closed his eyes and began counting down from one hundred. He got to
eighty-eight when a soft voice brought him out of his
self-loathing.

“Mr. Black…” Elsa’s voice sounded a million
miles away.

Prying his eyes open, she was kneeling
between his legs with her hands resting on his thighs. Her look of
utter concern crushed him and he recoiled. He didn’t need her
concern nor did he want it.

“Mr. Black…” her voice was louder and more
insistent. “I didn’t mean to upset you with my silence.”

Regaining his composure, he swept her hair
from her forehead and tipped her head back so he could study her
face more closely. He stared into her mahogany eyes and what he saw
gazing back was true sorrow. This charming creature hadn’t even
done anything wrong and she was remorseful for the pain she thought
she had caused him. Even after everything he had put her through,
she was repentant.

He dipped his head down and dusted his lips
against hers. What a truly sweet and easily pliable peach she
was.

***

The look of panic on Mr. Black’s face
troubled Elsa. No matter what he had done to her, she never wanted
to be the reason for that look on his face again. His tongue
slipped past her lips and his kiss sang through her veins. She
liked this version of Mr. Black – the one who was relaxed, playful
and flirty.

“We do look amazing together,” was all she
could get out before his mouth smothered hers again.

With his hands gently holding her head in
place and his demanding lips caressing hers, dinner out suddenly
sounded like an unnecessary interruption. A night in would be much
more entertaining so long as he stayed in this mood. Her eyes
remained closed when she felt him rise to his feet and pull her up.
His slow drugging kiss had left her feeling high and wobbly on her
feet, but his firm grip steadied her as he led her down the
stairs.

“We can walk to the restaurant from here,” he
stated. “It’s only three blocks away and the night is perfect.”

Once on the street, the warm, sultry May wind
dampened her skin. The sun was almost out of view and the sky was
muted with dark blue, orange and violet hues. Elsa inhaled deeply
the gritty metropolitan scent of Richmond. It was beginning to feel
like home.

Mr. Black took a hold of her hand as they
walked unhurriedly in the direction of the main activities on Grace
Street. His hold on her was unyielding, his fingers unabashedly
interlaced with hers. Surprised by the unassumingly endearing
gesture, she stared at her hand in his. Was this the same man who
had tormented her only hours before? She watched him closely as
they walked the distance to the restaurant. He was always two steps
ahead of her, his head turning in every direction as he scanned
their surroundings. When she would dawdle to look at something, his
eyes would dart back to her and he would tug her hand to keep her
close to him and moving along.

As they rounded a corner, a couple on a park
bench engaged in light petting immediately caught her attention. It
was that voyeuristic side of her rearing its naughty head again.
She couldn’t help it. It was in her nature. She paused as she
watched them curiously when Mr. Black yanked on her hand again. She
tugged back, halting his movements. As she watched with adoration
the couple whose kissing was becoming increasingly more intense,
she heard Mr. Black’s breathy chuckle next to her. He moved behind
her and kissed her neck.