“Does owning your own club make good money?” She slapped her palm against her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I asked that.”
He chuckled. “I make enough.”
She noticed he didn’t actually answer the question. Staring at him, she waited to see if he’d add more. He didn’t.
Caleb parked the car and opened his door. He didn’t give her chance to back out. She followed him outside, and he was beside her door within moments, slamming the door closed. Taking the hand he offered, she moved behind him toward the elevator. Not once did he speak, leaving the silence to stretch between them.
Do you know what you’re doing?
No.
Does Lydia at least know where you are?
No.
He could kill you and no one would know or care.
Gritting her teeth, she tried to fight the fear suddenly gripping her.
The elevator pinged open. This was her last chance to leave without fear. Glancing at Caleb, she stopped. There was no way she could leave. She wanted to know where this would go a lot more than she wanted to leave.
She took one step in front of the other, following him down the long corridor. He didn’t release her hand even as he grabbed the key from his pocket and opened the door.#p#分页标题#e#
This was entirely on her if she passed over the threshold. Licking her lips, she stepped over the line, and Caleb followed. He closed the door, and they were entirely alone. No one would interrupt them. They only had each other for company.
“Give me your jacket.”
Turning her back to him, she removed her outer jacket and gripped her purse tightly. She wasn’t scared of him stealing from her. Keeping a firm hand on her purse meant she was able to ground herself. It was strange, but holding her purse stopped her from doing anything stupid.
He took hold of her purse. “Let’s put that down, baby.” He took her last security blanket with him.
You can do this.
Caleb turned back to her, reaching out to grab her arms. He walked her back, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, and his touch was firm, not painful.
Her heart raced as the noises around them faded into nothing.
He moved her into the main sitting room. There was no coffee table to stop their movements.
“Stop panicking.”
“I’m not.”
He cupped her cheek, tilting her head back with his thumbs underneath her chin.
“Your skin is so smooth and flawless.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers before returning to hold her head at a particular angle.
Her mouth dried up as his head got closer. His lips brushed across hers, lighting a fire she didn’t think was ever going to be put out.
He slid his tongue along her bottom lip, gliding around then pressing inside. She opened her mouth accepting him inside her lips. Closing her eyes, she melted against him the moment he touched her. His left hand left her face to move down her body. The backs of his fingers grazed her breast. He went down until he held the bottom of her shirt.
Jerking back, she looked him in the eye.
“I want to see you, Donna.”
She didn’t stop him, nor did she help him to remove her clothing. He tugged the shirt up her body then over her head. Instinctively, she covered her breasts wanting to hide herself from him.
He wouldn’t let her hide away from his touch. “Don’t ever cover yourself from me. I want to see what belongs to me.”
Donna couldn’t dispute him. He gripped her wrists and forced her hands away from her body. Taking in several deep breaths, she waited for him to finish what he started. Caleb didn’t rush to do what he wanted. He took his time staring at her. She wore a simple white lace bra and a pair of panties to match, but he hadn’t seen them yet.
“They’re so sweet, and modest.”
Her cheeks heated under his gaze.
“On you, it looks beautiful.”
“Haven’t you ever seen a woman with white underwear?”
“No. I haven’t.” His dark gaze returned to her. “This is all new to me, baby. I’m used to whores and women who don’t want fuck all from me but a nice stiff cock and some money.”
She jerked back but stopped herself from covering her body.
Caleb reached for the buttons on his shirt and started to reveal the expanse of his chest and the ink all over him. He tore the shirt from his chest, and she saw the array of ink. His body was like a canvas for a tattoo parlor. The ink on his arms caught her attention first. Down his left arm she noticed the cross, and below it was a graveyard, each tattoo so intricately designed to the point she could see the strips of wood.
“You like to get inked.”