“She got me to fuck her.”
I inhaled air through my nose. “Do you still fuck her?”
“No, but she still wants to fuck me. What you saw at the bar was another one of her manipulative attempts to get me into bed. I was trying to ward her off without creating too much of a scene when you passed by.”
Deep inside, I knew he was telling the truth. I lowered my eyelids, suddenly feeling bad that I’d mistrusted him. “I’m sorry I ran off.” My voice was small.
Jaime tilted up my chin and gazed into my eyes. “Angel, you don’t have to apologize. You had no idea.” He paused. “There’s something else you need to know. Vivien’s not my type. I could never be with her. She’s a dominatrix.”#p#分页标题#e#
The news of Vivien’s sexual preference didn’t surprise me, given her brazen personality and fashion sense. In my head, I could easily imagine her in a black leather corset, fishnet stockings, and thigh-high leather boots, wielding a whip. Victor’s riding crop? Had she ever used it on Jaime? I inwardly shuddered; I didn’t want to know.
Jaime toyed with my wet braid. “You understand now, why I can’t work with her on the account. She’s a force, however, that must be reckoned with. She’s potentially dangerous and destructive.”
I mulled over his words. The situation was complicated. I was going to have to figure out a way to keep Jaime away from Vivien. And also from Victor.
An afterthought flew into my head. I knew that Victor was now single and never talked about Jaime’s mother. I recalled Jaime telling me he’d inherited a lot of money from her. Had she died?
“What happened to your mother?” I asked.
“Five years after Victor married my mother, he had an affair with a young starlet and asked for a divorce. My mother was more angry than heartbroken, and in the end, went for a large settlement, that included a mansion in Bel Air. No longer the beauty she used to be, she resorted to alcohol and sedatives. Driving under the influence, she died the day before she turned forty in a head-on collision on the canyon road that led to our house.”
So, in a way, Victor had destroyed Jaime’s mother’s life as well. Jaime’s tragic past tugged at my heartstrings. I felt connected to him in a way that I could never have imagined. He was a tortured soul just like me. Deprived of maternal love. And that of a father who adored him. I had just one last question.
I looked him straight into the eye. “Jaime, why did you wait so long to tell me all this?” So many complicated conflicts of interest that could have been avoided had I known about his toxic connection to Victor and Vivien.
He did that swirly thing with my braid again and then tickled my lips with the ends. “Because…” His voice trailed off.
“Because why?” I said softly, his intense gaze arousing me.
“Because I wanted to work with you, Gloria. From the minute I read about you on the Internet, I was drawn to you. Your success, your drive, your own need for control. And when I met you in the elevator, I was so taken by your beauty, feistiness, and independence. The need to control you consumed me. You’re different from all the women I’ve been with. You’re brilliant, intoxicating, and infuriating. You inspire and excite me, and sometimes you even make me lose control.” He tugged hard at my braid and shot me a wry smile. “And because, Ms. Long…I’m crazy about you.”
“Mr. Zander, you make me crazy!” Crazy in love? I wasn’t sure because I really didn’t know first hand what that meant. Feeling tingles everywhere? Shortness of breath? Fiery desire? Jealousy? A sense of loss when the other person is not there? That’s what my book heroines felt. And I felt all those things too.
I laughed. For sure, some kind of defense mechanism.
“Get over here, you!” he ordered, his eyes dancing with mischief. He wrapped his sculpted arms around me. With one swift smooth move, he hauled me against him and drove his rigid cock into me. My forehead fell onto his shoulder as he nibbled at my soaked flesh and ravaged my soaked core. He held me tightly, helping meet his deep thrusts. I moaned with pleasure. My arms clasped his chiseled body, embracing the scars that lined his back. He groaned my name. As this beautiful, controlling, complex man brought me to yet another earth-shattering climax, I was too distracted to think of all the complications he was bringing into my life.
We were both so exhausted. Jaime was still on East Coast time, and I truthfully didn’t know what time zone I was in. I just knew I was zoned out.
After room service, a light supper consisting of a delicious Salade Niçoise and bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé, we decided to called it a night. Jaime, clad in loose blue pajama bottoms that hung sexily low on his narrow hips, insisted on picking out my sleeping attire. The control freak!