shook her head gently. That was a perfect example of the kind of thought that was dangerous to think. “You’ll find,” he said, his voice a low rumble that was only for her ears, “that I only tease in bed, and only if you’ve been very, very bad.”
“Do you like it when I’m a naughty girl?” She couldn’t stop herself, just like she imagined he couldn’t stop the little rush of air from his throat.
“Oh princess,” he said. And then a long black car pulled up to the curb, and something changed in Alex’s bearing. He walked briskly to the car; Zoey had to move quickly to keep from being towed along like a little kid. He opened the back seat door for her, and she slid in. He followed her, pulling the door shut behind her.
The quiet once the car door shut was nearly absolute. All the noise of the city was shut out, and replaced with quiet music. Classical. Mozart, she was fairly sure. “Thank you, David,” Alex said. “I’m sorry for the short notice. I hope you didn’t have to cut your evening short.”
“I live to serve,” the driver said in a dry tone that made Alex laugh.
“Sorry to do this to you,” Alex said, before flipping a switch that raised a partition between the back seat and the front. Zoey heard a quiet chuckle before the front of the car sealed off, but instead of reaching for her again, instead of winding his fingers into her hair and leaving bruises on her ribs with tight and hard fingers, he opened a cooler and passed her a bottle of well chilled water.
It was such an abrupt transition that she almost retreated. One moment, he was the man who spanked her ass until it stung and kissed her in streets until crowds gathered; the next he was the CEO of a multi-national company that had its fingers in every pie that had been baked in the United States for fifty years. She didn’t quite know what to say, so she went for something totally obvious.
“You have your own driver?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes. And a private jet, and a housekeeper. The house in Connecticut has horses. Olivia has a sailboat the size of the Hamptons, but I hate it. I get seasick.” His expression dared her to comment on any of it, and she zipped her lips. She kept herself from making the gesture that went along with the emotion. Barely.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he said, but he didn’t relax. His gaze shifted out the window. The glass was tinted; they could see out, but anyone looking in would only see their own reflection. “My father was a stingy bastard,” he said. “Olivia donates to a few charities, but none of them—well, they’re all run by her friends, and her donations always seem to come back to her in the form of invitations and jewelry and whatever else. That’s not who I’m going to be.”
“I live in a studio apartment in the Bronx. I don’t have room in my apartment for a desk and a sofa, so I do that thing where I pretend that it’s comfortable to sit on the floor and work on my coffee table.”
His eyes were cold as they turned back to her. “And that’s my fault, because I was lucky enough to be born into a wealthy family?”
She shook her head. “Nope. But you were sharing some uncomfortable things about you, so I thought I should do the same.”
Alex watched her for a long moment, his eyes studying her. She had the sense he was looking for any hint of mockery, any sign at all that she was teasing him. He didn’t find it. She made sure he didn’t find it. “You mean that,” he said. His voice was quietly wondrous.
“I do,” she said.
He took her hand again and tugged her towards him. She slid across the seat and kept her eyes on his as one of his hands came to her chin, the other to the small of her back. He softly tilted her face up as he kissed her, and this time, there wasn’t a crowd to encourage them to keep the kiss chaste. She made a whimpering sound in her throat and he
“Do you like it when I’m a naughty girl?” She couldn’t stop herself, just like she imagined he couldn’t stop the little rush of air from his throat.
“Oh princess,” he said. And then a long black car pulled up to the curb, and something changed in Alex’s bearing. He walked briskly to the car; Zoey had to move quickly to keep from being towed along like a little kid. He opened the back seat door for her, and she slid in. He followed her, pulling the door shut behind her.
The quiet once the car door shut was nearly absolute. All the noise of the city was shut out, and replaced with quiet music. Classical. Mozart, she was fairly sure. “Thank you, David,” Alex said. “I’m sorry for the short notice. I hope you didn’t have to cut your evening short.”
“I live to serve,” the driver said in a dry tone that made Alex laugh.
“Sorry to do this to you,” Alex said, before flipping a switch that raised a partition between the back seat and the front. Zoey heard a quiet chuckle before the front of the car sealed off, but instead of reaching for her again, instead of winding his fingers into her hair and leaving bruises on her ribs with tight and hard fingers, he opened a cooler and passed her a bottle of well chilled water.
It was such an abrupt transition that she almost retreated. One moment, he was the man who spanked her ass until it stung and kissed her in streets until crowds gathered; the next he was the CEO of a multi-national company that had its fingers in every pie that had been baked in the United States for fifty years. She didn’t quite know what to say, so she went for something totally obvious.
“You have your own driver?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes. And a private jet, and a housekeeper. The house in Connecticut has horses. Olivia has a sailboat the size of the Hamptons, but I hate it. I get seasick.” His expression dared her to comment on any of it, and she zipped her lips. She kept herself from making the gesture that went along with the emotion. Barely.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he said, but he didn’t relax. His gaze shifted out the window. The glass was tinted; they could see out, but anyone looking in would only see their own reflection. “My father was a stingy bastard,” he said. “Olivia donates to a few charities, but none of them—well, they’re all run by her friends, and her donations always seem to come back to her in the form of invitations and jewelry and whatever else. That’s not who I’m going to be.”
“I live in a studio apartment in the Bronx. I don’t have room in my apartment for a desk and a sofa, so I do that thing where I pretend that it’s comfortable to sit on the floor and work on my coffee table.”
His eyes were cold as they turned back to her. “And that’s my fault, because I was lucky enough to be born into a wealthy family?”
She shook her head. “Nope. But you were sharing some uncomfortable things about you, so I thought I should do the same.”
Alex watched her for a long moment, his eyes studying her. She had the sense he was looking for any hint of mockery, any sign at all that she was teasing him. He didn’t find it. She made sure he didn’t find it. “You mean that,” he said. His voice was quietly wondrous.
“I do,” she said.
He took her hand again and tugged her towards him. She slid across the seat and kept her eyes on his as one of his hands came to her chin, the other to the small of her back. He softly tilted her face up as he kissed her, and this time, there wasn’t a crowd to encourage them to keep the kiss chaste. She made a whimpering sound in her throat and he
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