Grace Street (A Chapter 8 Novel, #1) (3 page)

Elsa felt her cheeks flush and her body
temperature rise, but she found herself unable to peel her gaze
away from the spectacle before her. It was compelling, dirty and
gratuitous. Her mouth parted and she licked her lips, wishing she
was on the receiving end of his long fingers when the man suddenly
looked away and redirected his attention back on his lover,
crushing his mouth over hers and kissing her violently. It was
beautiful and shameless.

Just then the bus squeaked to a halt, jolting
all the passengers forward and forcing Elsa out of her voyeuristic
entrancement.

She found a small café she had been eager to
visit since noticing it several weeks before and seated herself in
a corner booth. After ordering a large diet Coke, she placed her
earbuds in and fired up some James Blunt and opened a book she had
brought along. She began humming when the same smell from earlier
hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes flicked upward and she
pulled her earbuds out. Sitting directly in front of her was Mr.
Tall, Dark and Dangerous himself. His intense stare bored into her
as he sat silently watching her and made no effort to make polite
conversation or explain his presence. He had the same
just-got-fucked-hair, impeccable attire and scent of expensive
aftershave. Elsa came to the frightening realization that he had
most likely followed her there and that it was him she had sensed
earlier on the darkening street. When she sat quiet for nearly a
minute trying to make sense of everything and staring at him
impatiently, a crooked grin spread over his chiseled face.

“Aren’t you curious as to why I’m here?” he
finally asked, his eyes narrowed down to mere slits.

She swallowed hard and chewed the corner of
her lip fretfully. Sliding her hands off the table, she reached
into her coat pocket and touched the mace. “Curious isn’t the
word,” she whispered, gawking at his firm, oxblood-red lips.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the
table. “Then, what?”

“Uncomfortable.”

His smile widened only the faintest bit. “I
like uncomfortable.”

Yes, she could sense that about him. He was
visibly pleased with her unease, just like he had been at the bar.
Unclear of his intentions, Elsa pressed her body into the back of
the booth, trying to put some distance between them, but her
actions only made him move forward, closer to her, like a wild,
jungle cat stalking its prey. Maybe that’s what she was to him -
prey.
But damn if he wasn’t stunning to look at all in all
his terrifying glory and dark eyes. At least this time he didn’t
smell like another woman’s sex, but even at that, it had been a
nice scent on him, even if it wasn’t her own fragrance seeping out
of his pores.

“Do you find me attractive, Elsa?” he asked
in the deepest, most deceptively calm voice.

Her eyebrows rose. He hadn’t forgotten her
name. “Any sensible woman would,” she replied coolly.

Tipping his head back, the light caught the
bright white of his eyes and she could finally see the true color
of his irises – the deepest green with hazel specks.

“Your eyes are the most amazing color,” she
unintentionally whispered when she became ensnared in his watchful
gaze.

His mouth twitched with what appeared to be
agitation and something menacing flickered in his eyes. “If you
find me attractive then why did you refuse my card?” he asked,
completely ignoring her remark.

If he really wanted to persist with this line
of questioning, then she would just come out and say it. “Because
you seemed dangerous.”

The twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Oh, I am dangerous. Doesn’t that appeal to you?”

She let out a short breathy laugh. Who the
hell was this guy? And come to think of it, what was his interest
in her? “I suppose to a certain degree it does, but I’ve had my
share of dangerous men and I’m over it.”

The man’s left brow rose infinitesimally.
“But you haven’t had my brand of dangerous.”

Elsa wasn’t sure she liked the suggestive
tone of his voice, but still - her insides jangled with unwelcome
excitement. She did, after all, like a bit of menace in her men.
She also liked it rough when it came right down to it. Or at least
the
idea
of rough. No man had ever actually given her what
she really wanted, or needed for that matter. Not even Patrick had
given her
all
that she yearned for.

Nervous and exhausted with Mr. Dangerous and
trying to assess his unreadable features, she rose to leave. As
devastating as his appeal was, she didn’t need the drama in her
life. Not when she had moved nearly six hundred miles to start
fresh. In the blink of an eye, she felt a strong hand on her. His
touch was fiery and possessive, halting her escape. A soft gasp
left her mouth and she looked down to see his long fingers wrapped
tightly around her small wrist.

“Please sit, Ms. Cassidy,” his voice was soft
but alarming.

Her heart leapt into her throat, not only
from his touch but his use of her surname. The heated look passing
over his expression and the flame in his eyes were more revealing
in his intentions than anything he had spoken to her. Elsa had seen
a look like that cast on her before, though not nearly as intense,
and she knew it meant nothing but trouble. Something about a man’s
masculinity and dominance spoke to that depraved part of her that
made her want to do bad, bad things. And this man was no exception.
Or maybe he was the exception; a decadently, beautiful and
perilously mysterious exception who would allow her to give into
her wanton desires.

“Please take your hand off of me,” she stated
less than convincingly.

The man flashed a devilish grin and licked
his upper lip as if he could sense her doubt. “Is that what you
really want?”

Without answering, Elsa snatched her wrist
out of his grip and stepped back.

“Please, Elsa. I have a proposition for you.
Sit,” he ordered and just like that, she knew his commanding
presence wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

Slowly, she sat back down. Turned on by the
way his mouth formed her name, she never once took her eyes off of
him, but despite her attraction to him, she had presence of mind to
keep her fingers firmly wrapped around her canister of mace. So Mr.
Beautifully Creepy had a proposition, did he? Her curiosity was
piqued.

Easing back into the vinyl, her eyes widened.
“Go on.”

Running his index finger across his bottom
lip, an expression of casual irony flowed over the stranger’s face.
“Don’t you want to know my name first?”

She pondered a moment before responding. “No.
I’d rather hear your proposition before I become invested in you,”
she answered with a facile tongue.

“Touché, Ms. Cassidy. I’ll get right to the
point then,” he countered with a bitter edge of cynicism in his
voice. “I seek a physical association with you.”

She sat quietly for several long, seemingly
never-ending seconds trying to put into logical sense what his
statement meant. “Are you asking me out on a date?” she finally
responded

“I don’t date.” His throaty voice and tone
revealed nothing and his eyes remained cool when he answered her,
leaving her perplexed yet again.

“Then, what?”

With no emotion but an undeniable sparkle in
his eyes, he answered, “A physical association is all that I seek
from you. Sex to be exact.”

She didn’t know whether to be offended or
angry from his bluntness, but in all honesty, she was neither.
Undoubtedly she was freaked out, but more overwhelmingly, she was
hot and bothered. This was the thing she needed and even prayed
for; a no-strings-attached, no-sentimental-BS kind of relationship.
Just sex. Plain and simple.

Bringing out a folded piece of paper from his
inner jacket pocket, he pushed it across the table to Elsa. “I’m
clean. I brought my papers along with me to prove that.”

She almost laughed out loud. ‘His papers,’
made it sound as though he were a kenneled animal up for adoption.
Had he been neutered and did he have his shots, too?

Moving right along, he continued, “I have a
place picked out where we can meet…”

She suddenly felt panicked. She hadn’t even
agreed to anything.

“Aren’t you even curious as to whether or not
I’m clean?”

Looking past her and out the window, he
replied, “I already know everything I need to know about you at
this point to move forward with this arrangement.”

“And how is that?” she asked, but she already
knew the answer. She knew the answer as soon as she smelled his
cologne. He had been the one following her that evening and parked
out in front of her apartment for at least a week. Maybe longer.
Her inner self-preservation was screaming at her to run the other
way, but that other part of her – the one that liked things
naughty, was keeping her ass firmly planted in the seat.

“I always do my homework before I make an
offer like this,” he simply stated without elaborating.

Elsa couldn’t help but wonder just how many
offers like this had he made in the past. Tens? Hundreds?
Thousands? Eyeing the piece of paper on the table, she picked it up
and opened it to see the name of the man in front of her.
Victor
Laurenzo
.

“Victor,” she whispered.

“I expect you to call me Mr. Black,” he
stated tersely.

Glancing up at him, she knitted her eyebrows
and questioned him in a low and troubled voice, “How do I know you
are who you say you are? If you’re telling me to call you Mr.
Black, then who is Victor Laurenzo?”

Victor sighed loudly and pulled out his
wallet and quickly flashed his driver’s license in front of her
face. He was, indeed, Victor Laurenzo. Why then did he want to be
called Mr. Black? Perhaps he was into role playing. So be it. Mr.
Black it was. She had already entertained this conversation much
longer than what would seem appropriate. She knew she shouldn't be
questioning him as much as she should herself for still sitting
here, yet she couldn’t stop from wanting to hear him out.

As he pushed his ID back into his wallet, the
overhead light glinted off a brass badge, but Victor’s movements
were too swift for her to make out what the ID hidden in the
leather folds was. Was he a police officer? An FBI agent? Some kind
of foreign dignitary? Wonderment surged through her but only for a
brief moment. The reality of her luck would probably reveal him to
be just some paper pusher for the Food and Drug Administration.

“Are you married, Mr. Laure… Mr. Black?” she
corrected herself.

He leaned forward and let out a long, audible
breath before answering in a hushed voice, “I don’t answer personal
questions about my life outside our arrangement, but if it will put
your mind at ease, just this once I’ll divulge. No, I’m not
married.”

His voice, though quiet, had an ominous
quality, just as everything about him did and Elsa couldn’t be sure
he was being honest.

“All the paperwork on our meeting place will
be finalized within the next few days.” Reaching into a different
pocket, he pulled out a small slip of paper with an address written
on it and held it out to her. “Our first liaison will be this
Saturday at 10:00 a.m. We can go over the particulars that day. Be
prompt and ready to begin when you arrive, Ms. Cassidy.”

Shaking her head and trying to clear her
thoughts, she responded, “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.
Something about you frightens me. You’ve been following me and
snooping around my private affairs, which, by the way, is
disgusting. I need time to think this over.”

Victor smiled smoothly, betraying nothing.
“Define disgusting.”

Unflinching, she answered, “Horrible,
repellent, repulsive.”

“It would’ve been more repulsive if I had
made an offer such as this without proving my sexual cleanliness,
no? Disgusting is subjective, Ms. Cassidy, and it’s a fact that
when a person is aroused, they’re less likely to think something is
disgusting.”

Her brows knitted together. A fact according
to whom? This guy was something else. “It just so happens that I’m
not aroused.”

One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked
half-smile and his eyes lit up. “Not yet.” When she opened her
mouth in rebuttal, he cut in. “Everything I’ve done has been done
with forethought to your and my needs. What you think is repellent,
others might find necessary,” his voice resonated with depth and
authority.

Necessary? This man knew nothing of her
needs. “Following me around reveals nothing about me.” The sound of
his voice affected her deeply and when she responded, her voice was
shakier than she would have liked.

With a hard, cold-eyed smile, the lines
around his eyes tightened. “You couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve
learned a great deal about your habits and schedule, and even some
of your personal preferences by following you. Everything else I
plan to learn about you will come with time; something I’m willing
to invest in you. Time and attention is the greatest gift another
person can bestow on someone. Consider yourself fortunate, Ms.
Cassidy, because neither of those things is something I share with
just anyone.”

The tensing of Victor’s jaw let on to his
deep frustration, but he remained eerily calm. Sipping on her diet
Coke, she became entranced with the way he was casually circling
his index finger on the table. Lascivious thoughts filled her mind
as she envisioned him tracing the fullness of her breast with that
same digit. Abruptly interrupting her fantasy, he rose from the
booth and stood at the side of the table leaving her reeling from
his statement and her arousal. Gliding the back of his fingers down
her cheek, she shivered and his sureness melted her resolve. Maybe
she was the fortunate one.

“Saturday. Ten o’clock,” he reiterated.