Diamonds Page 2
She hung up the phone before he could say another word. Well, that was an interesting conversation. Of all the things she had expected from Gates, she hadn’t wagered for disbelief. She was Bryna Turner. She could get any guy she wanted. How could he not believe that I would find someone else? Is he that conceited?
By the time he realized that she was serious, she would be long gone.
“Ready to go?” the man asked, coming up behind her.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He didn’t ask about her conversation, and she was glad. She didn’t want to tell him about it.
“Lead the way,” she told him.
Grabbing her hand, he walked her through the crowded bar and out onto the street. He passed his ticket to the valet. A few minutes later, a shiny Jaguar convertible pulled up in front of Allure.
She raised her eyebrows in appreciation. Her father collected cars, so she had been taught to drive a stick as soon as her feet could reach the pedals. She wouldn’t mind taking this beauty out for a joyride. Her eyes traveled back to the man who was climbing into the driver’s side. Maybe a joyride of a different nature.
“Nice ride,” she said. “XKR-S, next year’s model. This thing goes zero to sixty in about four seconds and has a top speed of, what? One eighty? Two hundred?”
“One eighty-six.” He looked over at her, impressed. “You know cars?”
“I know a thing or two,” she said, running her hand down the side of the car. She sank into the passenger seat and glanced over at him in wonder. “So, what do you do?”
He winced slightly and gave her an apologetic look.
Oh.
So, it’s like that? I’m not supposed to know any personal details about him?
That’s fine.
Whatever.
“Never mind,” she muttered. I’m not that kind of girl. Fuck!
“Sorry. The last woman who asked me that was a gold digger.”
He did look like he was sorry. But he had just compared her to a fucking gold digger.
“And do you think I’m a gold digger just because I asked you about your job?”
He shrugged. “You can never be too careful.”
She glared at him. If she was going to share information about herself, then she could dress him down with how ludicrous it was to call her a gold digger. Her father was a multimillion-dollar director, her mother was an actress, and even her grandmother had been a successful actress. She would never need to stoop to such degrading extremes for money. She lived in Bel Air and went to school in Beverly Hills.
Enough said.
“I’m not a fucking gold digger. I just like your car.”
“Okay.”
“And anyway you wouldn’t be driving it if you didn’t want people to admire it.”
He shrugged. “Fair enough.”
The drive to his place didn’t take as long as she had anticipated. With him driving a car like this, she had expected him to be in a gated community in the Hills. She knew the area they were in though. It was full of wealthy apartments and condominiums for people who worked in the city and didn’t want to deal with traffic. Her father preferred to stay at a suite at the Beverly Wilshire, or the like, when he had business in the city, but he had colleagues who would get similar apartments.
They took the elevator to the top floor and walked into a large suite apartment. It was immaculately decorated but didn’t have a scrap of personal touch to it. No pictures of the wife he was separated from. Nothing to suggest he was anything but an affluent businessman.
“Drink?” he offered.
“How about a name?”
He sent her a curious look and then walked toward a bar on the other side of the room. He poured two glasses of scotch from a crystal decanter and brought one over to her. She weighed it in her hands and nearly smiled in delight at the quality.
“Have you ever done this before?”
She stared straight ahead. “Done what?”
He came up behind her and spoke softly into her ear, “Been with a stranger.”
She shivered. “Yes.”
It was kind of the truth. She had fooled around with guys she had met only a handful of times at parties, but she had never allowed them to go further than that.
“I like the mystery of not knowing.” He trailed his hand down her arm.
She had to do everything not to shiver all over again. “So…you do this often?” She didn’t keep the bite out of her voice. He laughed melodically behind her and nipped at her neck. “Is this why you’re separated?”
He sighed. “No. That’s…complicated.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “But to answer your first question, I don’t do this often. And I’ve certainly never met anyone as beautiful as you.”
“Flattery doesn’t work,” she said.
“Oh?” His hand trailed down the gold zipper of her form-fitting dress. He stopped right before it reached her ass and then splayed his hand out across her lower back. “It’s hardly flattery when it’s the truth.”
“A name.”
“Any name?”
She turned around to face him and stared up into his intense dark eyes. What secrets is he hiding? Could it possibly be as many as I am keeping?
She felt it in the pit of her stomach that somehow he felt as empty as she did. She walked through life, surrounded by a sea of blindingly happy people. Life had been laid out before them, and they didn’t have a care in the world.
But when she looked up at him, the emptiness that had consumed her after her parents’ divorce, maybe even before that, seemed to find a twin.
“Just a name. It can’t be that hard.” She breathed out slowly in anticipation. “I’m Bri.”
With the nickname, she could at least keep him from figuring out that she was Bryna Turner. There weren’t many Brynas in Hollywood, even fewer pronounced Brihn-uh. She wasn’t ready for him to know that name, not when it could lead him back to the fact that she was in high school.
He mulled over the name for a second before sticking his hand out and responding, “Jude.”
“WHAT’S GOING ON in that pretty little head of yours?” He took a drink of his scotch. His eyes stared straight through her.
“Just admiring your taste in scotch.”
Bryna distracted herself from that stare by taking a sip of her drink. Single malt, undeniably smooth, and utterly delicious. She did not need this to feel more confident. She was not nervous. In fact, she wanted this.
She was Bryna Turner. Nothing could break her stride.
His lips quirked up. “You know one of the first things I noticed about you?”
“My tits?” she joked, deflecting.
His eyes flicked down to her exposed cleavage and then back up. “After I saw how beautiful you were.”
“What?” She was intrigued.
“How truly empty you looked.”
In shock, Bryna faltered backward a step. She didn’t care that his words exactly mirrored what she thought about him every time she looked into his eyes. It didn’t matter that she truly did feel empty or that her parents’ divorce had rendered her this way. How could he say that to my face?
“I am not empty,” she spat.
“I’m sure that’s what you tell everyone.” He set his glass down on the coffee table and came back around to stand behind her. “You hide behind a wall of self-confidence. No one can see past the hardened exterior.”
She felt the faint brush of his hand along her shoulder and up her neck.
“But I do. I see what you keep hidden, what you want no one else to see.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is who I am.”
Jude’s mouth replaced his hand, and suddenly, it took everything in her not to lean back into that kiss. Chills ran up her arms. The anticipation of what was to come increased her sensitivity to his touch. Every brush, every touch of his lips sent a shock wave through her system.
“This body,” he
murmured, running his hands down her sides and over her hips, “hides how hollow you are on the inside.”
He dug his fingers into her hips, and she struggled to remember how to respond.
“I…no.”
“Something stripped you down and left your soul bare.” His hand slid to her thigh and under the hem of her dress. “As bare as you’re about to be.”
“Jude,” she whispered. She didn’t know what else to say. She wanted to argue. But really, what’s the point? How can he see what no one else has been able to?
“You know I’m right.” He roughly turned her around and looked deeply into her eyes.
His fingers twined in her hair, and she closed her eyes as he tilted her head up toward him.
“Tell me I’m right.”
Trying to keep her walls up around him was futile. Everywhere else, she had to pretend that she was whole and fine, that nothing could bring her down, nothing could hurt. If the opportunity to be herself and to be with someone who understood her pain was presenting itself to her, then she was going to take it.
“You’re right.”
He didn’t ask her to talk about it or explain the feelings behind her emptiness. And she didn’t ask him to try to make it better. A mutual understanding bloomed between them, something no one else could touch. In that moment, she knew she was lost.
His lips crashed down on top of hers, forceful and demanding. He was in charge. He took control. It was clear he knew exactly what he was doing.
Her scotch glass disappeared from her hand, and then he guided her back to his bedroom. The glass balcony doors, covered in sheer curtains, let in a dim glow of light. A king-sized bed took up the center of the room with a black leather bed frame, a charcoal bedspread, and black throw pillows. It was dark and exotic.
Jude’s lips melted with hers for a minute, tasting and testing. When he pulled back, she was left wanting more. She didn’t feel as hollow with his lips on hers.
“Stand right here,” he instructed, positioning her to face the bed.
She curiously looked at him as he sat down in front of her. She wanted to make some comment about how she could have just stood at the bar, but she held her tongue. She was confident in her skin. She didn’t mind him examining her from head to toe.
And he did just that.
“Now, take off your dress. Slowly.”
She arched an eyebrow, and he just smirked back in return with a challenge glinting in his eyes. She could play this game if that was what he wanted even if it would be her first real striptease.
Turning to face away from him, she spread her legs more than shoulder width apart, stretching the elastic material until the dress rode up her legs. Then, she reached for the zipper on the back and very carefully dragged it down. First, she revealed the royal-blue La Perla bra, then the matching lace panties, and finally the curve of her ass. She dropped the dress off of each shoulder and then gingerly pushed it over her hips where it pooled at her feet.
She heard his intake of breath, and it encouraged her to continue.
She slowly walked in a small half circle to face him in nothing but her lingerie and Louboutins. Red lacquered heels were her specialty.
“Proof that your dress looks better on my floor.”
Bryna walked forward, one foot in front of the other, swaying seductively. She pushed him backward on the bed, climbed on top of him, and threaded his tie through her fingers. “So will your suit.”
“I’m going to fuck you in those heels.” He rolled her over on the bed and started stripping out of his suit. “Just those heels.”
“You’ll have to do something about this lingerie.”
“I don’t care if I have to rip it off,” he said as his pants fell to the floor, leaving him in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
His body covered hers a second later, reaching under her body until he unclasped her bra. He pulled it over her head and watched as her glorious breasts fell into place.
“Fuck,” he muttered. His hands caressed them, stiffening her nipples, and then he sucked on the hardened points.
She arched her back and wound her fingers through his hair. He hadn’t moved an inch lower, and her blood was pounding. She was already wet and close to soaking through the thin material keeping him from her. She tilted her hips up hoping to encourage him to move farther south, but he only laughed at her.
“Not yet,” he murmured softly.
Then, out of nowhere, his tie reappeared. He had her hands clasped above her head, and he was tying the material around her wrists. The tie wasn’t attached to anything, but his point was clear.
Don’t move.
Her heart rate skyrocketed. He had tied her hands together. Shit!
He went back to work on her tits. He alternated between giving her pain and pleasure as he nipped at the sensitive peaks and rolled them between his fingers. She felt ready to combust under the attention and all before he even yanked her underwear to the ground to find out exactly how wet she already was.
One finger went in, and he groaned. She had to resist bucking off the bed as a second followed, and then he was working her in and out. Slowly at first, and then he picked up the pace as he brought her closer to climax. Her eyes were closed, and she was digging her fingers into the comforter when she felt his tongue flick against her clit. Her body jerked. Then, he was giving it the same treatment as her nipples. He swirled his tongue around the nub and licked and sucked until she was convulsing underneath him.
She was in ecstasy from her orgasm when she felt his dick pressed against her opening. Her body tightened around the head, and she pushed her hips toward him.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned.
He withdrew from within her, and her eyes snapped open, full of questions. She saw him tear open a condom, and she nearly groaned herself. She would have rather felt him against her, inside her.
But she didn’t protest, and then he plunged deep into her. She cried out as he filled her. For once, she didn’t feel empty or hollow. She felt completely and totally full. Of his cock.
He leaned forward, so one of his hands rested on her bound wrists, and then he started working her back into a frenzy. He pulled out slow and then slammed into her as fast as he could. Over and over and every agonizing moment over again, he would thrust into her until she was shaking with the need for release, but then he would be deliberately gentle and hold her off for another minute.
His lips fell hungrily on hers, and she felt him somehow expanding further inside her. He was as close as she was. They were both ready to collapse from exhaustion and the pent-up energy.
“Do you want to come, beautiful?”
She nodded her head. How am I even holding on to composure? All she wanted was for him to make her explode.
His hands fell to the sides of her face, and they passionately locked lips once more as he thrust into her until they both let go. Bryna’s body shook from head to toe. She threw her head back as waves of heat passed through her. She saw stars in her vision.
When it finally cleared, she looked up at the man who had taken her to all new heights. She knew there was no going back from here.
THE NEXT MORNING, Bryna awoke to an empty bed. She sat up, clutching the bedsheet to her chest, and looked around the dark room.
No Jude.
She scooted off the bed and winced as she stood. Her body reminded her exactly how much physical exertion it had endured last night. She shimmied back into her dress, grabbed her shoes, and walked out into the living room.
“Jude,” she called out.
No response.
She ducked her head into the guest bedroom and the kitchen, looked into both bathrooms, and even decided to peer into the closets.
Empty.
What the fuck?
They’d had an incredible connection and an even more incredible night. Then, he had ditched her? What kind of scumbag would do that to me? Has he been playing games the whole time? Have I been a conquest?
She quickly made arrangements for a cab to come pick her up and then stormed to the door. On her way out, she noticed a piece of paper on a table next to the exit. She snatched it into her hand.
I GOT CALLED INTO WORK AND DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE YOU.
STAY AS LONG AS YOU LIKE, BUT I DON’T KNOW WHEN I’LL GET BACK TO THE APARTMENT.
SORRY TO RUN OUT ON YOU.
—JUDE
Contemplating, Bryna rolled the paper over in her hand. This could be the truth. She didn’t know what line of work he was in, but her father worked most Saturdays. It was a reasonable assumption that he worked a lot to have amassed such a fortune.
She ground her teeth. She didn’t want to think it was okay for him not to even say good-bye. But he had left a note. Well, if it were all true, then he would get in touch with her again. She scribbled down her number on the bottom of the paper and signed it Bri.
She was sure she would hear from him soon enough.
After leaving Jude’s apartment, the cab took forever to get back to her dad’s place. She had to be at school soon for the away football game tonight. It was weird even thinking about going back to high school after being with Jude.
Her life felt upside down and inside out. There was the most fulfilling night of her life, where she had been completely free, and then there was the rest of the world. If Jude hadn’t more or less left her high and dry, she wouldn’t have ever wanted to come back.
Bryna walked in through the kitchen door in an attempt to avoid all human contact and nearly ran smack dab into her stepbrother, Pace. Another person she definitely did not want to come back for.
“Where the hell were you last night?” Pace asked.
She ground her teeth and turned away from him. The only person she wanted to see less than Pace was his stupid fucking mother. At least the twins would leave her alone.
When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Huh, Bri?”
She closed her eyes to try to get her emotions under control. She needed her hard exterior right now to deal with this bullshit.