Mile High (Up In The Air #2)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Are you ready to leave yet?” James murmured to me a few minutes later.

We’d grown silent as the group moved on to another topic. James was stroking me lightly, touching me everywhere, falling just short of indecency.

He would touch my collarbone, but stop just short of my breasts. One hand lingered at my hipbone, dangerously close to dipping low enough to be obscene. I was getting more and more lost in his touch, losing all sense of what was appropriate, and losing sight of all of the reasons that I’d ever had any reservations about him at all.

This was the reason I had tried to keep my distance from him, but also the reason that I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t resist him. I had held out for a time, but if I was honest, it had only been a countdown to my capitulation.

I didn’t answer him, and he took it as a challenge. He kissed me again, holding nothing back this time.

He was gripping my hair almost to the point of pain, his other hand grabbing my butt as he ground against me. He was aroused and I moaned into his mouth, the sound barely registering in my lust fueled haze.

He pulled back, his breath ragged now. “You ready to leave now? I don’t find the idea of f*cking you against that wall behind you even slightly unpleasant. Exhibitionism has never been a problem for me. Is that something you’d like to try?”

He ground against me with every word he spoke, and his voice was mocking, almost angry. His words were barely registering, as my focus was on what he was doing.

“Hmm?” Was all I managed to get out.

“Are you ready to leave now? Or would you prefer that I f*ck you in front of all of your co-workers?”

James bit out in a hard enough tone to finally bring my mind back to the surface.

“No,” I said, breathless and agitated.

How could I so quickly forget where I am, and that we’re in a room crowded with people that I know?

“No, you’re not ready to leave? Or no, you wouldn’t prefer that I f*ck you in a room crowded with your friends? Where they can all watch me bury my cock inside of you against that wall, not ten feet behind you. Is that something you want them to see?”

I just stared at him for awhile, my mind moving like molasses.

He seemed to be getting angrier by the moment. “Answer me. Do you want me to do that?” he asked, each word biting and harsh.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No,” I repeated, trying to make it sound convincing. “We need to go.”

He ground his teeth together. “I’m aware of that. Go say goodbye to Stephan,” he ordered.

I stepped away from him, catching my breath for long moments.

I counted in my head as I made my way to Stephan, trying to get my mind onto the matter at hand, and off of James.

Stephan gave me a slightly worried look as I approached. “You okay, Bee?” He leaned near my ear as he spoke.

I just nodded, looking only at him. “James and I are leaving. I’m going home with him. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I told him.

He began to look around as I spoke, searching for James. He met the other man’s stare as James approached. James leaned in, saying something in his ear, pitched too low for even me to hear.

Stephan nodded slowly, giving the other man a severe frown, but saying nothing.

James led me from the room by the hand, his own grip uncompromising. We didn’t speak to anyone else. I was lucid enough to know I should be a little embarrassed at how far I’d almost let James go in a room full of people.

James was close to dragging me by the time we got to his car. He ushered me, rather forcefully, into the low limo the second Clark opened the door. He was a hard presence at my back as I moved across the seats. He sat close to me, but made no move to touch me again. I didn’t mind, taking the reprieve to try to compose myself.

Several minutes passed in silence, James staring out the window as though he was avoiding even the sight of me. I could tell he was angry, but I couldn’t even begin to guess why.

“So you’ve done that before?” I finally asked him quietly. My mind had been stubbornly lingering on the idea in the long silence. “You’ve had sex in front of other people before?”

He looked at me, his brow arched, his expression cold. “Yes. Are we sharing information now? I thought that was strictly off-limits tonight. Your idea, if I recall.”


My eyes narrowed on him. “Don’t bring things up that you aren’t willing to talk about, then.”

His brows flew straight up at that. “Is that a rule now? So you’re saying that if you bring up a subject, you have to answer my questions about it, as well? If you’ll agree to reciprocate, I’ll accept those terms.”

I bit my lip, wondering how this was going to backfire on me. I knew it would, eventually. How badly did I want to know about his exhibitionist tendencies?

Badly. “Fine. Tell me.”

He pursed that pretty mouth. “Tell you what, exactly? About having sex in front of other people?”

I nodded.

“Is it something you’re interested in doing, or are you merely curious?”

My eyes widened in dawning horror. Had he thought I would want to do that in front of my co-workers, if I was thinking at all clearly? The thought was abhorrent.

“Merely curious,” I said with a blush. “About you more than the practice. I want to know what you did in front of other people, and with whom.”

He spread his hands. “I’ve done it several times. There are…events for people like us. BDSM demonstrations. I’ve dominated, and spanked, and f*cked several women at things like that. In front of a few people or even crowds. I never had a problem with it, though it was more a novelty than one of my actual preferences. And I f*cked a few women at some frat houses in college in front of crowds, a few times on a dare, if I recall. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I used to be a real slut. I’ve been more circumspect in recent years, but only in comparison to my past exploits, really. Anything else you want to know about it?” His voice was tight with agitation by the end of his explanation, and his question was downright angry.

I felt sick to my stomach suddenly, the last vestiges of arousal leaving me completely. “And you’d have no problem doing that to me, in front of a crowd?”

His jaw clenched hard, and he turned his head away. He was silent for so long that I didn’t think he was going to answer, though the answer was important to me.

“I have a huge problem with it,” he said finally. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it. Even knowing how much I would have regretted it after, I still had a hard time stopping myself. I felt like you wanted me to, and that made it so hard to stop. I’m starting to see that that’s not what you wanted. Still, I would have been furious with us both if it had gone that far.”

“Why furious? You said yourself you’ve done it several times.”

He gave me an almost malevolent glare. “Because you’re mine. I don’t want other people to see you like that. I don’t want to share you like that. When I’ve done it before, it’s been with women who were…dispensable. They were all dispensable, Bianca. I’m not proud of that fact, but it is the truth.

Even the few subs who I’ve had under contract longterm were dispensable, in a way. I never shared them, but I certainly didn’t care if anyone saw me f*cking them.”

I licked my lips. “You had subs under contract? Longterm?” I asked, feeling the sickness growing.

He sighed. “I did bring it up, didn’t I? Yes, I’ve had a few subs under contract. They were amenable, though only two were compatible for what could be considered longterm. It can be a necessary arrangement, when you have a lot of money and your sexual proclivities are…unusual. I wanted no misunderstandings, and certainly none of them were strangers to the scene.”

“Is that something you would try to do to me? The contract thing?” I asked him, my voice smaller than I preferred.

He gave me a baffled, wild look.

I had a horrible thought. I hadn’t wanted the arrangement, would certainly have turned it down, but what occurred to me next was even more appalling.

“Oh,” I said, the sick knot in my stomach growing by the moment. “That’s a more longterm arrangement than what you had in mind for me, I take it.” I made my voice and face empty of emotion as I spoke, wanting to take the blow with some grace. “You would obviously want someone more experienced with the things you like, to fill a role like that. Well, that’s for the best. I couldn’t make a commitment like that, anyways.”

His head dropped forward, his hair covering his face. I saw his fists clenching and unclenching.

He was silent for a time. His voice was low but harsh with intensity when he spoke. “That is not the contract that I had in mind for you. But which is it, Bianca? Are we talking about our relationship, or am I not allowed? Because you keep saying the most infuriating things, and I’m finding it increasingly difficult to bite my tongue. So are we talking about our relationship tonight, or not? I’ve wanted to explain myself to you for a long time, but you always run away before I can even begin.”

I swallowed. I suddenly wanted to know, quite desperately, what he would say if I encouraged this conversation. But I lost my nerve, feeling terrified enough of what he might say to postpone it for another day.

“Not tonight,” I said finally.

A chilly silence filled the car after that. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t touch. I withdrew into my own thoughts, for a time. We stayed that way until we pulled into the parking lot of Las Vegas’s private airport. It was close to the main airport, but I’d never actually been to it.

“What are we doing?” I asked James.

He didn’t look up. “You said I could do anything with you that I wanted. I am.”

I gave him an exasperated look that he didn’t see. “I don’t have anything with me. I haven’t even packed a bag. And it’s late.”

“I’ve taken care of it.”

“It will be morning by the time we get anywhere. I can’t wear this outfit anywhere but a night club.”

“I know. I said I’ve taken care of it.”

We had stopped by then, and Clark was opening the door scant seconds later. James got out in a flash, pulling me out as soon as I got within his reach. He gripped my elbow firmly, guiding me into the small terminal.

“We should be able to depart immediately,” he said brusquely.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No. Not to a beach. I’ll tell you that much.”

I nearly laughed. “What is your issue with beaches? Everyone loves the beach.” I looked at him, smiling to draw him out of his mood.

His face darkened. “I’m aware,” he said, his tone scathing. The beach was a topic off-limits, I noted. I tucked away that little piece of information.

“I need a change of clothes,” I complained.

“I’m aware,” he repeated.

“You’re the moodiest person I’ve ever met,” I told him, my own tone dark now.

He squeezed my arm, hard. “You make me crazy. If you would give me some clue what you were thinking or feeling, if you even feel anything for me, I think I could handle our situation with a little less volatility.”

His words struck me silent, and we walked like that through the smaller airport. We went through all of the motions, my mind reeling.

He wanted to know if I felt anything for him? It was a strange notion to me, one I couldn’t credit. He’s worried about getting me to care for him? I mused.

I dismissed the thought after mulling it over. I’d had this type of interaction with men before. It wasn’t that he cared. It was that I came across just aloof enough that it made me a challenge. James couldn’t have felt challenged to gain the affection of many women. One night with him, and most probably professed undying love. Because, frankly, there was so much to l ove. But I wouldn’t humor him, not at the cost of what little pride I intended to retain at the end of our affair.