Chapter Five

The black curtain hugged the small stage, shielding them from the crowds still dancing and enjoying the music. Here, off to the side, in this section of the wings, Sophie was all alone with her stranger.

His eyes roamed her body. The look in them was predatory. He stalked her, and she backed up, step by step in her heels, until she hit the black wood wall. “You have six minutes now before you go out there,” he said in a hungry voice, his fingertips brushing the fabric of her dress along her thigh. “Do you know what I can do to you in six minutes to make you feel amazing?”

The temperature inside her shot sky high. A pulse beat between her legs. She was hot and she was wet. She’d been turned on ever since he’d asked her to dance.

“What can you do?” she asked, feeling both utterly vulnerable and completely aroused. It was a matchstick combination for Sophie.

“Do you want me to tell you?” He roamed his hand up her leg, reaching her waist, making her shudder.

“I do,” she said breathily, her body on the cusp of something intense. Something she wanted desperately.

“What I’ve been thinking about since I met you.” He raised his hand and cupped her cheek. His touch was both gentle and possessive. “First, I’m going to place my hand on your beautiful face, and your knees will go weak, because I’ll finally be touching you the way you’ve been fantasizing about since this afternoon,” he said¸ his hot breath painting her skin.

“That’s cocky.”

“It is,” he said with a nod as he ran his thumb along her jawline. “But it’s also true. From the moment I met you, I knew I’d have my hands on you. You knew it, too. Felt it, too.”

She nodded as she trembled from the trace of his finger. “I did feel it.”

He brought his mouth to her ear and spoke softly. “If I ever do or say something you don’t like, tell me. Or smack me. I only want to bring you pleasure.” His words were both sexy and earnest. The combination sent flutters through her belly. “Immense pleasure.”

“You already are. So tell me something else that’s true. Something else you know,” she said, loving the hot, dirty way he talked to her as he touched her.

“I’m going to look into your eyes like I want to take you,” he said, his eyes blazing with desire. “That look will drive you wild. And you’ll swallow nervously because you don’t know me, and it’s odd wanting a stranger as much as you do.” He was reading her like a teenage diary. On the one hand, she was nervous. She didn’t know him at all. But she was also aroused beyond words. Beyond reason. Beyond any normal limits.

For that same reason—because she didn’t know him.

“Then, you’ll run a hand down my tie,” he told her, and she reached out instantly, doing exactly as he said, loving the directions he gave. Sophie craved this kind of interaction. She wanted a man to command her. So much time was spent deciding, and doing, and planning. It drove her brain batty, and she longed for this kind of release from her days.

“Do you know why you’re so fascinated with my tie?” he asked huskily, his eyes pinned on her. He practically fucked her with his gaze. It was so intense. His confidence set her on fire. It torched a path across her body, sizzling her skin.

“Tell me,” she said, eager for more of his words. “Since you seem to know me so well. Tell me.”

He brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. Oh God, she was dying for him to kiss her. She was so eager to feel those lips. To taste him.

He grasped a wrist with one hand, yanking it up his chest and loosely wrapping the end of his tie around her hand. “You want me to tie you up.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, her voice stripped to the bones. He knew her. He read her. He could sense everything she wanted. He crowded her against the wall. Heaven Leigh belted out her song on stage. The inky black of the backstage cloaked them.

“Am I wrong?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “If I’m wrong, tell me and I’ll walk away.”

She shook her head. “Are you going to take it off? Tie me up?” she asked in a voice that hardly sounded like hers. It belonged to the part of her that had been untended for years.

He grinned wickedly. “No. I have other ways to tie you up,” he said, and in a flash, he gripped her wrists in his big strong hands, wrapping his fingers around her, binding her as he yanked her hands behind her back. Heat flared in her body, spinning through her, settling between her legs. Her gorgeous, sexy panties were so damp right now they were useless.

She ached for his touch. And she could do nothing but wait for it since she was his hostage.

He was so strong she couldn’t wriggle away if she wanted to. His thumbs dug into her wrist bones, pinning her hands above her ass, rendering her helpless. The pressure from the twist in her arms bordered on pain, and felt oh so good.

There was no space between the two of them. Only breath. Only words and his bare, husky voice. “Do you know what else I’ve been thinking about all day?”

She shook her head.

He inched closer, his mouth mere centimeters from hers. Her lips parted, so ready for him. God, she needed him to kiss her. Needed it badly. He was making her wait for it. Making her nearly ask for it. His mouth hovered so close she wanted to dart out her tongue and lick him. Draw him to her. His forehead brushed hers, and her breath fluttered.

Somehow, she managed a please.

“Please kiss you?” he asked. “Is that what you want me to do?”

She nodded, too turned on to form another word, even a yes.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about all day,” he whispered.

Then he kissed her, and he wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t sweet. He was rough as he claimed her mouth, kissing hard. She moaned as he drew her bottom lip between his teeth then fused his mouth to hers.

His stubble rubbed against her chin. She’d have whisker burn later. She longed for the redness, the proof, the evidence of a bruising kiss.

The kiss lit her up. She felt it everywhere—in her toes, in her hair, in her belly.

And, deliciously, between her legs.

She ached for him there. She angled her hips closer as they kissed, desperately seeking contact from him. God, how she wanted him. And she didn’t even know his name.

But he knew her body.

He knew her desires.

He held her hands so tightly they might as well be cuffed. In a flash, he changed his grip, wrapping both her wrists in one hand, keeping them pinned behind her back. He moved his free hand to the front of her dress and found his way up her skirt. He broke the kiss as his fingertips brushed above her knee, touching her stockings and her garter. “Are you wet for me, Sophie?”

“Yes,” she said on a pant.

“Are you hot for me?” he asked, racing closer to her heat.

“God, yes.”

“Was I wrong about anything I told you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Do you still want to ask me if I’m a good lover?” He flicked his finger against her clit. Ripples of pleasure spread through her body. She inhaled sharply and bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry out loud.

“No. I don’t need to ask you,” she said as he stroked her through her black lace panties.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she whispered as sparks shot through her bloodstream.

“Why not?” he asked, as if he were truly so damn curious.

“Because you’re showing me.”

His fingers glided across the wet panel of her panties, stroking faster as she rocked into him. He kept a firm grip on her wrists as she greedily sought his friction. “That’s right,” he said roughly. “I’m showing you, Sophie. I’m showing you exactly what I can do to you.”

He stopped momentarily. Her eyes widened. A trace of fear zipped through her. Fear that he might not let her come. “Did you want to question me again?” he asked, taunting her. “I can stop if you have questions.”

“No,” she said, her breath staccato.

“Good. But I want to question you.”

“Anything,” she panted. “Ask me anything.”

He fixed her with a serious stare. “Are you sure you want to go out on stage having just come all over my hand?”

“Yes,” she said, begging.

He leaned in closer to her ear. “I can’t hear you. Say it again.”

“Yes, God yes.”

He ran his fingers across the wet lace. He narrowed in on her where she wanted him. She was so close to the edge, and she needed him to keep touching her. She needed his fingers flying across her clit. Touching her until she fell apart.

“Beg for it,” he commanded.

“Please,” she whispered in his ear, her knees shaking, so desperate was she for release. “Please make me come.”

He rubbed fast and expertly, and she rocked into his hand as bright white fireworks blasted in her brain, radiating throughout her body. Faintly, in the back of her mind, she heard the song nearing the end, and she knew she’d have to come in seconds to make it to the stage on time.

But seconds were all this man needed.

“I want to taste your lips as you fuck my hand,” he said, then dropped his delicious mouth to hers once more, kissing her fiercely as she rode his fingers. He wasn’t even touching her flesh. He was getting her off through the lace. He was that good. She was that turned on. The tension in her body escalated, rising up like a rollercoaster car nearing the top of the hill. Then she reached it, hovered for beautiful seconds in that suspended state of bliss, then raced downhill as if it was an orgasmic joyride. As her own pleasure crashed into her, he ravaged her mouth with his lips, swallowing her moans, tasting her cries, and somehow it felt like kissing was coming, and coming was kissing.

Only it was more. It was being held back. And that was a hint of all that she craved.

She blinked and breathed hard as he pulled away. He arched an eyebrow, and let go of her wrists. Her skin burned from his grip. She shook her right hand.

Gently, he brought her wrist to his lips. He kissed her softly, reminding her of the first time he kissed her hand on the dance floor as he erased the sting, his lips traveling across the same territory where he’d held her tight moments ago.

“Better?” he asked quietly.

She nodded as he gave the same treatment to her other hand. All these sensations both rattled and delighted her—she didn’t know what to make of this man, and how he could talk and touch so rough and harsh in the heat of the moment then become so sweet in the afterglow.

He lowered her hands to her sides then tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Beautiful,” he said, his eyes softer now as he looked her over.

She smoothed a hand over her dress. Her legs felt wobbly. Her heart roared loudly. Her body still sang.

Clapping echoed loudly from beyond the curtains. The song was over. “Thank you so much,” the singer said from the stage.

He tipped his head. “You better get out there.”

Nerves took off inside her, then a blast of anger. She was not going to be dismissed. This was not going to be a one-time thing. She grabbed his tie, tugged him close. “Name. Tell me your name.”

She expected a sly remark. A hint that gave little away.

“Ryan,” he said with a glint in his dark eyes.

She scoffed. “Your name’s not Ryan,” she fired back as Heaven Leigh said her goodbyes.

“Why not?

“Ryan’s a nice guy name.”

“Are you saying I’m not a nice guy?”

She shook her head, and curled her hand around his shoulder. “You’re not a nice guy at all.”

He brought his palm to his chest. “I’m hurt. I’m a terribly nice guy. I saved you from those women who wanted to monopolize you at the bar. And I kissed you when you came so no one heard how orgasmic you were.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“Because you have to go,” he said, nodding to the stage.

“And why are you giving me your first name only?”

He brushed his lips against her ear. “What are you doing on Sunday at seven p.m.?”

She practically held her breath at the possibility unfurling before her—that she might see this man another time. “What should I be doing Sunday at seven p.m.?”

“Be at Caesars. Outside the Fizz Bar. I want to see you again.” He paused then added, “Badly.”

She smiled. She wanted to see him, too. “I’ll be there.”

She ran her hand along her skirt once more then gently touched her hair, making sure it was still in place. Her heart sped up in worry. She grabbed Ryan’s strong arm. “Wait. Is my lipstick smeared?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s all gone.” He brushed the pad of his thumb along her cheek. Softly. “But you look perfect. Every single thing about you looks perfect.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking a deep breath as she left.

She walked on the stage, flashing a big, bright smile to the crowd. She thanked Heaven Leigh for singing and then talked about how talented the woman was. As she spoke, she scanned the crowd and caught a last glimpse of the man in the suit, the man who’d made her come backstage. He was on his way out, but he stopped briefly and watched her. He didn’t wave. He didn’t chuckle. He didn’t make a single gesture to say they had a secret.

But the way he stared made her tingle all over, and the way his lips curved up in a grin said he knew he had that effect on her, and that he had every intention of doing it again.