Naked, Page 2

  The warmth of the car and the coziness of the leather seat felt nice underneath the thin skirt I’d worn tonight. Ethan was right about one thing, I would have died on my walk to the Tube. Here I sat in the car of a virtual stranger, who’d seen me naked, bullied me into taking a ride, and now coming out of the convenience store with a bag in his hand and a grim look on his face. This whole situation was weirder than weird.

  “What did you need to get in the store—”

  He shoved a bottle of water into my hand and opened a single packet of Advil. I took both without a word. He watched me gulp down the pills. The water was gone in under a minute. He set a protein bar on my knee.

  “Now eat it.” His voice had that don’t-fuck-with-me tone again. “Please,” he added.

  I sighed and opened the white chocolate Power Bar. The crinkle of the wrapper filled the silence in the car. I took a bite and chewed slowly. It tasted divine. I had needed what he’d brought me. Desperately.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, feeling suddenly emotional, the urge to cry bubbling up fiercely. I held it down as best I could. I kept my head down too.

  “My pleasure,” he said softly, “everyone needs the basics, Brynne. Food, water…a bed.”

  A bed. The sexual tension was back, or maybe it never left. Ethan seemed blessed with the talent to make the most innocent word sound like hot, sweaty, mind-blowing sex you remembered for a long, long time. He sat beside me and didn’t back the car out until I’d finished the last of the protein bar.

  “What’s your actual street address?” he asked.

  “41 Franklin Crossing.”

  Ethan took us out of the strip mall lot and headed back onto the street, bringing me closer to my flat with every revolution of the tires. I leaned into the soft leather and closed my eyes. My phone vibrated in my purse. I fished it out and saw there’d been a text from Benny.

  Ben Clarkson: u home ok?

 

  I shot back a quick ‘yup’ and closed my eyes again. I could feel my headache begin to slip away. I felt more relaxed than I’d been in hours. Exhaustion wore out I suppose, because I would have never allowed myself the indulgence of falling asleep in Ethan Blackstone’s car if I could possibly help it.

  2

  Someone smelled very good as they touched me. I could smell the spice and feel the weight of a hand on my shoulder. But the fear rose up anyway. The blast of terror that brought me screaming into consciousness arrived right on schedule. I knew what it was but still the panic ruled me. I should know. The feeling had been with me for years now.

  “Brynne, wake up.”

  That voice. Who was it? I opened my eyes and faced into the blue intensity of Ethan Blackstone not more than six inches away. I pushed back into the seat to make more distance between me and that gorgeous face. I remembered now. He bought my picture tonight. And took me home.

  “Shit! I’m sorry I—I fell asleep?” I fiddled for the door handle but I didn’t know this car. I scrambled blindly to get out—to get away.

  Ethan’s hand shot over and covered mine, stilling it with a firm touch. “Easy. You’re safe, everything’s fine. You just drifted off is all.”

  “Okay…sorry.” I panted some deep breaths, looked out the window, and then back to him still watching my every move.

  “Why do you keep apologizing?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. I did know, but couldn’t think about it at the moment.

  “Are you okay?” He smiled slowly with a tilt of his head. I swear he liked the fact that he rattled me. I wasn’t so sure if I didn’t. I so needed to get away from this situation right now, before I agreed to all manner of things. Something along the lines of: Take off your clothes and stretch out in the big back seat of my Range Rover, Brynne. This man had a way with control that severely unnerved me.

  “Thank you for the ride. And the water. And the other stu—”

  “You take care of yourself, Brynne Bennett.” He pressed a button and the lock clicked. “You have your key ready? I’ll wait until you’re inside. What floor is it?”

  I dug my key out of my purse and replaced it with my phone which was still on my lap. “I live in the top studio loft, fifth floor.”

  “Roommate?”

  “Well, yes, but she’s probably not in.” Again, wondering what loosed my tongue in sharing personal information with a virtual stranger.

  “I’ll look for the light to come on then.” Ethan’s face was unreadable. I had no idea what he was thinking.

  I pushed the door open and got out. “Goodnight, Ethan Blackstone.” I left his car at the curb and headed up the steps of my building, feeling the stare of his eyes as I walked. Sticking the key in the door, I looked back over my shoulder at the Rover. The windows were so dark I couldn’t see inside, but he was in there waiting for me to get in my building so he could leave.

  I opened the foyer door to five flights of stairs ahead of me. I slipped off the heels and did it barefoot. The second I entered my apartment I hit the lights and locked up. I literally collapsed against the wooden door for support. My heels dumped on the floor in a clatter and I exhaled a huge sigh. What the hell just happened?

  It took a minute to heave myself away from the damn door and head over to the window. I pulled back the drape with a finger to find his car gone. Ethan Blackstone was gone.

  ~*~

  A five mile run was just the ticket to help clear my head of the fog from last night’s— Alice in Wonderland down a friggin’ rabbit hole—trip. I seriously felt like I’d done the whole ‘Eat Me’ and ‘Drink Me’ thing too. Jesus, had the champagne been drugged? I’d acted like it. Allowing an unknown man to drive me in his car, drop me at my home and take over control of my food? Well it was stupid and I told myself to forget about it and him. Life was complicated enough without borrowing trouble.

  That’s what Aunt Marie always said. Picturing her reaction to my modeling made me smile. I knew for a fact that my great aunt was less concerned about the nude pictures than my own mother. Aunt Marie was no prude. I set my iPod to shuffle and took off.

  Pretty soon the awkward encounter from last night had been pounded onto the London pavement of Waterloo Bridge. It felt good to push myself physically and just run. Must be all the endorphins. Cursing inwardly for another sex reference, I wondered if that was my problem, and the reason I allowed Ethan so much leeway last night. Maybe I needed an orgasm. You’re so screwed. Yeah, and I could just imagine the literal and figurative versions of that statement.

  I forged ahead and crossed over onto the Thames path that followed the great river. My iPod helped too. Music had a way of resetting the brain. With Eminem and Rihanna battling out love and lies, or lying for the sake of love in my ears, I kept a steady pace and admired the architecture I passed on my route. The history in such an ancient city as London was vast, and yet contrasted with the bustling, modern world player in a perfect balance. Duality. I loved living here.

  ~*~

  Modeling wasn’t my only job. All students enrolled in the graduate program for Art Conservancy at the University of London were required to do practicum duties at the Rothvale Gallery in Winchester House. The Duke of Winchester’s seventeenth century mansion had housed U of L’s Department of Art for about fifty years and a more beautiful location to study certainly did not exist anywhere else in my opinion.

  Heading in through the employee entrance, I flashed my badge for security then again for the conservation studios.

  “Miss Brynne, good day to you.” Rory. So proper and formal. The back room guard greeted me the exact same way every time I came in. I kept hoping that one time he would say something different. Shag any millionaire control freaks last night, Miss Brynne?

  “Hey, Rory.” I gave him my best smile as he let me through.

  I stayed focused and sharp during my work. The painting was a stunner, one of Mallerton’s early works, entitled simply, Lady Percival. An absolutely compelling woman with nearly bla
ck hair, a blue dress to match her eyes, a book in her hand, and the most magnificent figure a female could ever hope to have, took up most of the canvas. She wasn’t so much a beauty as expressive. I very much wished I knew her story. The painting had suffered some heat damage during a fire in the sixties and never been touched since. Lady Percival needed some tender loving care and I would be the lucky one to give it to her.

  I was just about to go for a break when my phone went off. Unknown caller? It struck me odd. I didn’t give my number out and the Lorenzo Agency who represented my modeling had strict disclosure rules.

  “Hello?”

  “Brynne Bennett.” The sexy cadence of a British voice washed over me.

  It was him. Ethan Blackstone. How, I have no earthly idea. Or why for that matter, but it was him, sexy accent live and well on the other end of my phone. I would know that commanding voice anywhere.

  “How did you get this number?”

  “You gave it to me last night.” His voice burned into my ear and I knew he was lying.

  “No,” I said slowly, trying to put the brakes on my escalating heart beat, “I did not give you my number last night.” Why was he calling?

  “I may have borrowed your phone by accident while you were dozing…and called my cell with it. You distracted me by being dehydrated and starved.” I heard muffled voices in the background like he could be in an office. “It’s very easy to pick up the wrong phone when they all look alike.”

  “So you went into my phone and dialed yours so you could get my number off the history of calls received. That’s kinda creepy, Mr. Blackstone.” I was starting to get rather pissed at Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome with the Gorgeous, Blue Eyes for his utter lack of personal boundaries.

  “Please call me Ethan, Brynne. I want you to call me Ethan.”

  “And I want you to respect my privacy, Ethan.”

  “Do you, Brynne? I think you are really grateful for the ride home last night,” he spoke in a softer voice, “and you seemed to like your dinner too.” He paused for a moment. “You thanked me.” More silence. “In your condition you would’ve never made it home safely.”

  Seriously? His words returned me straight back to the overwhelming emotion I’d felt last night when he’d brought me the water and the Advil. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was right.

  “Okay…look, Ethan, I owe you for the ride last night. It was a good call on your part and I do thank you for the help, but—”

  “Then have dinner with me. A proper dinner, preferably not something enclosed in plastic or foil, and definitely not in my car.”

  “Oh, no. Sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good ide—”

  “You just said, ‘Ethan, I owe you for the ride,’ and that’s what I want—for you to have dinner with me. Tonight.”

  My heart pounded harder. I can’t do this. He affected me so strangely. I knew myself well enough to realize that Ethan Blackstone was dangerous territory for a girl like me—Great White shark is hungry for lone swimmer in cove—territory.

  “I have plans tonight,” I blurted into my phone. A total lie.

  “Then tomorrow night.”

  “I—I can’t then. I’ll be working late afternoon and photo shoots always exhaust me—”

  “Perfect. I’ll pick you up from your shoot, feed you, and take you home for an early night.”

  “You keep interrupting me every time I speak! I can’t think straight when you start barking orders, Ethan. Are you like this with everyone or am I just special?” I did not like how the conversation turned so fast in his favor. It was maddening. And whatever he meant in the way of an early night left me imagining all kinds of forbidden.

  “Yes…and yes, Brynne, you are.” I could feel the sex dripping off his voice through my phone, and it scared the shit out of me. And I am a stupid idiot for wording the question like that. Way to go, Brynne, Ethan says you’re special.

  “I have to get back to work now.” My voice sounded thready. I knew it did. He just disarmed me so damn easily. I tried again. “Thanks for the offer, Ethan, but I can’t—”

  “Say no to me,” he interrupted, “and that’s why I’ll pick you up from the shoot tomorrow for dinner. You admitted that you owe me a favor, and I am calling it in. It’s what I want, Brynne.”

  Fucker did it again! I sighed into the phone loudly and let that sit in silence for a moment. I was not going to give in to him so easily.

  “Still there, Brynne?”

  “So you want me to talk now? You sure change your mind quickly. Every time I speak you interrupt me. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners, Ethan?”

  “She couldn’t. My mother died when I was four.”

  Fuck. “Ahhh, well that explains it then. I’m very sorry—look, Ethan; I really have to get back to my work. You take care.” I took the chicken way out and ended the call.

  I set my cheek on the worktable and just rested for a minute, or five. Ethan wore me out. I don’t know how he managed it, but he did. Eventually I got up from my chair and headed for the break room. I got the biggest mug I could find, filled it with a shitload of half-and-half and sugar, and a moderate amount of coffee. Maybe a caffeine/carb buzz would help me, or put me into a coma.

  Looking over at my workspace I saw the captivating Lady Percival prepped and waiting so elegant and calm as she had been doing for more than a century. Coffee in hand, I returned to her and attended to cleaning the grime from the book she so lovingly held to her breast.

  3

  Benny’s beautiful brown skin looked divine against the pale yellow shirt draped onto his muscled frame. Confidence poured out of Benny in every aspect of his life. Totally optimistic. I wish I could be more like him. I was giving it my best shot but let’s just say my best shot at it sucked.

  “So this Ethan bloke is trying to get all up in you, huh? I saw how he watched you, Brynne. He never stopped looking,” Ben muttered, “not that I blame him.”

  Benny’s always been sweet like this. My go-to guy when I need a shoulder. He’s nosy though. I’d tried all night to keep the conversation about his photography and gallery show, but he kept steering the talk back to Ethan.

  “Yeah, well he has a way of getting the upper hand and I don’t like it, Ben.” I dipped my French fry—that I refuse to call a chip—into some ranch dressing and popped it in my mouth. “And thanks for making an honest woman of me tonight.” I ate another fry. “I told Ethan I had plans, which was a total lie until you called.”

  Ben pointed a fry at me and smirked. “So that’s why you nearly jumped me through my cell.”

  I took a swig of my Sheppy’s cider, no longer hungry for the burger and fries. “Thanks for the invite, my friend.” Even to my ears I sounded like a bore.

  “Well why don’t you go out with him? He’s hot. He wants you badly. He can certainly afford to show you a good time.” Benny picked up my hand and pressed his soft lips to my skin. “You need to have a little fun, luv, or some sex. Everybody needs to get some once in a while. How long’s it been?”

  I snatched my hand from him and took another swig of Sheppy’s. “I am not talking about the last time I got laid, Ben. Boundaries much?”

  He gave me a patient look. “You definitely need an orgasm, darling.”

  I ignored his comment. “He’s just so—well I—he’s—the man is so fucking intense. His words, the stuff he does, the raised brow, those blue eyes—” I pointed my finger at my head like a gun and pulled the trigger. “I can’t think when he starts in with the commands.” I noticed Ben had pushed his plate away too. “You ready to go?”

  “Yeah. Let’s get your sexually-frustrated vagina home. Maybe you can have a date with your vibrator and that will help.”

  I kicked Benny in the foot under the table.

  During the cab ride to my flat I thought about last night in Ethan’s car. I obviously felt comfortable enough to fall asleep. That had been a total shocker. I never did stuff like that. Ever. With my history, letti
ng my guard down with strangers was not on the menu, especially the sleeping thing. So why had I done so with Ethan? Was it his gorgeous looks? I’d only really seen his face but I could tell he was built underneath the silk suit. The man had the whole package working for him. Why me when he could have anyone he wanted?

  “So you’re booked for a studio shoot tomorrow at Lorenzo?”

  “Yeah.” I hugged Ben. “Thanks for the referral, honey, and the dinner. You are the best.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Vaya con dios, you sexy man.”

  “Love it when you speak Spanish to me, baby!” Benny motioned with his hands toward his chest. “Keep it coming! I want to impress Ricardo next time he’s in town.”

  I left Ben in the cab with a smile on his face, blowing a kiss. I headed up to my little flat that I love and adore, was in my shower in under five minutes, and in my pajamas another ten after that. I’d just put my toothbrush in the holder when my phone went off. I looked at the display. Crap. Ethan.

  I hit accept and gathered the courage to speak. “Ethan…”

  “I like when you say my name, so I suppose I’ll forgive you for hanging up on me today.” His slow, elegant Brit voice settled over me, heightening my awareness of his maleness and the promise of sex instantly.

  “Sorry about that.” I waited for him to say something else but he didn’t. I still hadn’t agreed to go out with him though and we both knew it.

  Finally he asked, “So how were your plans tonight?” I could just picture that mouth of his in a firm line of annoyance.

  “They were fine—good. I just got in actually…from dinner.”

  “And what did you order at your dinner, Brynne?”

  “Why must you know, Ethan?”

  “So I can learn what pleases you.” And just like that he did it again! Taking my defensiveness away with a few small words and dripping of sexual innuendo as always. And making me feel like a cold bitch.

  “I had a garden burger, fries, and a Sheppy’s cider.” I felt myself relax a little and softened my tone.