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  “All right. I’ll send the elevator down.”

  I move toward his private penthouse elevator and wait. When the doors open, I expect Christopher to walk out, but the elevator is empty. I enter and push the lone button for the penthouse.

  Chills sweep over me as the cubicle ascends. Too soon, the door opens.

  Braden stands waiting in the entryway. “Good evening, Skye.”

  “Hi.” My voice cracks. Shit.

  “Thank you for the treats for Sasha. I just saw the basket in the kitchen.”

  “You’re welcome. I got it free at a shoot, and of course I have no use for it.”

  “Nice of you to think of her,” he says.

  Things seem icy between us. But why? He showed up at my place unannounced. Why shouldn’t I show up at his? “Why are you home so soon?”

  “I was able to complete the business early.”

  “In one day?”

  “Does that seem implausible to you?”

  Does it? He’s a billionaire. People probably continuously kiss his ass. No, it’s not implausible. What’s more implausible is that he had to be gone the rest of the week. Did he lie to me?

  I have no right to ask, especially with a stolen piece of mail burning a hole in my purse.

  And that’s just it.

  I don’t want any lies between us. I can’t control what he tells me, but I can at least control what I do. If I want him to eventually commit to a relationship, I need to show him I mean business. Honesty and trust are a big part of that.

  “Braden”—I clear my throat—“I didn’t lose an earring.”

  “Oh?” His blue eyes twinkle a bit. “Why are you here, then?”

  “Because I…” I draw in a deep breath and hold it a few seconds.

  “Spit it out, Skye.”

  Because I want you. Because I think I’m falling for you. The words are on the tip of my tongue, and they’re not a lie. Just looking at him makes me yearn for him. But I thought he was in New York, so no way will he believe I came over here because I miss the smell of him.

  I gather every bit of courage, pull the crumpled envelope out of my purse, and thrust it at him. “To return this.”

  He wrinkles his forehead and takes the envelope.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” I say, words tumbling out of my mouth faster than I can think about them. “I brought the stuff for Sasha, and then I went to the bathroom. I saw all the mail in the magazine rack, and I couldn’t help myself. When I saw the Ames Hotel envelope, I just… You won’t tell me about you and Addie, so I thought maybe…”

  “Maybe you could figure it out from this?”

  “I didn’t even look inside. I swear it. I felt terrible about it, and that’s why I came back. I was going to come back up here and replace it in the powder room so no one was the wiser. But now you’re here, and I…I don’t want to lie to you, Braden.”

  He opens the envelope, withdraws the paper inside, and hands it to me. “It’s a bid for an event my foundation hosted last year.”

  I glance over the words. The letter is dated more than a year ago. A quick look at the postmark would have given me this clue.

  I can’t believe it. Really can’t believe it.

  “You see,” he says. “Nothing about Addison and me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Do you really think I’d leave anything important sitting in my powder room?” he asks incredulously.

  “No. I…” I sigh. He makes a valid point. “I wasn’t thinking at all.”

  I brace myself. He’s going to be angry. He might yell. He might call off our relationship—or whatever it is—forever, and if he does, I can’t blame him.

  “I’m sorry. I understand if you want to…”

  He cocks his head. “If I want to what?”

  “Not see me anymore.”

  He laughs. He laughs! So seldom does he laugh, and he picks this moment?

  I hold back a huff. “What’s so funny?”

  He pulls me against him, his lips pressing against my ear. “Nothing is funny about this.”

  “Then why did you—”

  “You want to know why I’m home early? Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted you in my bed. I almost sent you a plane ticket, but I knew you wouldn’t take off work with no notice. So I came home. I came home because I couldn’t wait five fucking days to see you again.”

  I swallow as flutters rack my stomach and limbs, and my nipples harden against my bra. My pussy throbs between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together to try to ease the ache. “So…you’re not angry with me?”

  His blue eyes burn through me. “I didn’t say that.”

  I swallow again. “Then you are angry?”

  “Of course I’m angry. Who wouldn’t be?”

  I have no answer for his question, so I stay silent.

  “The question is, what do I do about it?”

  Again, I have no response.

  “I could end things with you, but I didn’t fly two hundred miles today to punish myself.”

  It would punish me as well, but I don’t vocalize the thought.

  “I could take you over my knee and give you a good spanking.”

  My body tingles. Do I want a spanking from Braden? No, I don’t. Except that I kind of do.

  “It’s what you deserve,” he continues. He advances toward me, like a wolf stalking his prey.

  I walk backward, away from him, until my back hits the wall beside the elevator door. He closes in on me, his gaze smoldering.

  “Your lips are parted in that sexy way,” he rasps. “I want to kiss you so hard that your knees give out.”

  I inhale a slight gasp.

  “That wouldn’t punish you, though.”

  I stay silent and close my eyes.

  “So no kisses tonight. I’m going to spank your creamy ass, and then I’m going to take what I came all this way for. And you’re going to let me.”

  Am I?

  He’ll let me go if I tell him to. I know that. He won’t do anything without my permission. But he won’t ask. I see it in his gaze. If I want this to stop, I have to be the one to stop it.

  “Braden…” I whisper.

  “Yes?” His eyes laser into mine.

  I squeeze my thighs together more tightly, but still my pussy aches with need. I’m wet. So wet already, without so much as a kiss. I won’t get a kiss tonight. He’s made that clear.

  I inhale sharply. “Do what you need to do.”

  In a flash, I’m in his arms, and he’s carrying me to his bedroom. He throws me on the bed and tugs off my shoes, slacks, and panties. I spread my legs, giving him full view of my arousal. Just his words, his smoldering gaze, his domineering countenance, make me wet. So wet.

  He closes his eyes and inhales. “You smell like heaven. I’d love to taste you, Skye. Give you a hundred orgasms like last time, but that wouldn’t be punishment. So I’m going to spank you. Then I’m going to fuck you hard and fast and take my own pleasure.” He unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He yanks his pants and underwear over his muscled hips. His dick is fully erect, and a small pearl of clear liquid emerges.

  He tosses me over onto my stomach, and before I can even anticipate what’s to come, his palm comes down on my ass.

  “Ow!” I cry out.

  Another slap. Then another. I grit my teeth to stop from shouting again. I can take this. I want to take this. I want to give him what he needs. And I deserve it. I’m the one who did something wrong.

  “Gorgeous,” he rasps. “So pink.”

  The pain from his smacks turns to a tingling sting, a warming sensation. He slaps me again and then once more.

  I brace for another—almost crave another—but he flips me back over so I’m lying on my back.

/>   He pushes my legs forward and thrusts into me.

  I cry out at the invasion—the burning invasion that makes me feel so complete.

  He fucks me hard. He fucks me fast.

  And with my legs pushed so far forward, his pubic bone doesn’t nudge my clit.

  Still, I climb the invisible mountain, edging toward the peak. I can get there. I can get there…

  Except I don’t get there.

  He releases inside me, groaning, cursing my name, embedding himself in my body and taking his own pleasure.

  Leaving me hanging.

  My ultimate punishment.

  It’s no less than I deserve for violating his trust and stealing a piece of mail—a piece of mail that turned out to be useless anyway.

  When he finally stops pulsing, he stays inside me for a moment, his eyes closed and his hands clamped onto my thighs. I lever myself against his strength, trying to move my clit forward. I’m still turned on. If I can just find something to grind against…

  But he pulls out then and opens his eyes.

  Leaving me wanting.

  Which was his intention the whole time.

  I say nothing. I told him to do what he needed to do. I gave him permission. My body may be on fire, but I’ll never beg him for an orgasm.

  At least not tonight.

  He pulls up his pants and fastens them. “Have you eaten?” he says nonchalantly.

  His voice is so calm, as if he didn’t just spank me and withhold my orgasm. I’m still naked from the waist down, my legs still spread, his semen seeping out of me. “Well…no. Not yet.”

  “Get dressed. Marilyn is off this week, so I’ll order something.”

  Chapter Forty

  He leaves the bedroom.

  I lie still for a moment. The phantom imprint of his hand on my ass still stings but in a good way. I stare at the unusual contraption above his bed. Does he ever use it? And what exactly does it do?

  Still so much I don’t know about this enigmatic man I’ve become addicted to.

  I could lose my heart, and I’m not sure he’ll ever be able to give me his. A wave of sadness sweeps over me. At least he desires me. I can live with that. For now. Indeed, I’m lucky his desire is so strong, otherwise my mail stunt might have cost me something much more than a missed orgasm.

  I pick up my clothes and head to the master bathroom. I clean myself up and run Braden’s brush through my hair. My lipstick is still intact.

  Of course it is. He didn’t kiss me.

  Does he miss our kisses as much as I do?

  Is this truly all physical for him?

  How can I feel this much for a man I know nothing about? Am I mistaking our physical chemistry for something more?

  I don’t have any answers for my own questions.

  I leave the bedroom and find Braden at the bar pouring two Wild Turkeys.

  “There you are,” he says. “I ordered Thai food.”

  I nod. “Sounds delicious.”

  He hands me a glass. “Wild Turkey goes great with Thai.”

  I smile. “Wild Turkey goes great with everything.” I take a sip and let the amber liquid sit on my tongue for a minute. The smoky caramel flavor soothes my nerves. I swallow, and it burns my throat. In a good way.

  He takes a sip.

  The silence grows in the room, like a rain cloud above us about to let loose at any moment.

  Or is it just me?

  Braden seems perfectly fine saying nothing.

  “Braden?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m…really sorry about…you know.”

  “We don’t have to talk about that.”

  “But we do. I don’t want you to think I’m the kind of person who—”

  “Skye, you did what you did. No amount of telling me what kind of person you are will change what already happened.”

  Brick to gut. Now what?

  “Do you think I’ve never made a bad choice?” he continues. “Done something I regret?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know.”

  “You don’t get to the top without making mistakes along the way. I learn from every mistake, and I never make the same mistake twice. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

  “Yeah. I won’t do it again. I told you that already.”

  “I understand mistakes. I’ve made my share.”

  I nod. I’ll never bring up the stolen piece of mail again. I won’t bring up Addison, either—not tonight, anyway.

  I take another sip of Wild Turkey. Christopher brings the Thai food into the kitchen. Braden murmurs his thanks and dismisses his driver. Then he pulls dishes and utensils out of cupboards and drawers. I’m surprised he knows where everything is. He dishes out a plate of food and hands it to me.

  “Thanks,” I murmur. I sit on one of the barstools at the granite island and wince slightly.

  “Sore?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

  “No. Just a little tender.” I take a bite of the spicy curry.

  Again, silence descends.

  “Something interesting happened at work today,” I finally say.

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  I give him the short version of the call from Eugenie at Susanne Cosmetics.

  “Are you going to call her?” he asks.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Addie won’t like it. I’ll probably lose my job.”

  “She hasn’t fired you yet.”

  “No, but we had a shoot today. For the pet boutique where I got Sasha’s gift basket. She needed me.”

  “She’ll always need you.”

  “I’m not sure of that. Besides, the only reason Susanne wants me to do a post about the lip stain is because of you.”

  “So?”

  “How can you be so nonchalant? I’m a nobody. No one gives a crap what kind of lip stain I wear except for the fact that apparently I’m your girlfriend now.”

  “So?” he says again.

  I lift my eyebrows, shaking my head slightly. “What don’t you get about this?”

  “Here’s what I get,” he says. “This is an opportunity for you. Would you have this opportunity if not for me? Maybe not, but it’s still an opportunity that has presented itself. Take it, Skye. You’re a fool if you don’t.”

  “A fool? How dare you—”

  He gestures for me to stop.

  I do.

  “Don’t get all excited. Anyone, including me, is a fool not to take advantage of what’s thrown in his lap. Do you think I haven’t taken every opportunity that’s come my way? I won’t leave you in suspense. I have, and some of them came along simply because I was in the right place at the right time. They had nothing to do with me.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re a self-made man, Braden.”

  “For the most part, that’s true. But do you truly think I never had any help along the way? That opportunities fell into my lap simply because I’m me?”

  “I’ve read all about you.”

  “The media never tells the whole story.”

  I pounce at his opening and smile. “Will you, then, Braden? Will you tell me the whole story?”

  His lips twitch.

  Yeah, I got him. He’s trying not to smile.

  “You are a challenge, Skye.”

  “You’ve said that many times,” I say. “Has it escaped your notice that you’re also a challenge?”

  “I never said I wasn’t.”

  “What will we do, then?”

  He swallows a bite of food. “I’ve never backed down from a challenge.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “Then you’ll do the post for Susanne Cosmetics.”

  I freeze, my forkful of food stopped midway
between my plate and my mouth. How did we get back to that? Already I know the answer.

  “You don’t play fair,” I say.

  “Sure I do. I’m just more experienced than you are.”

  I can’t fault his observation. “Posting about lip stain isn’t exactly a challenge.”

  “Of course it is. It’s something new. It’s something you’re not sure you’re up for, but it fell in your lap. You can take your own pictures, Skye. Get credit for them. This is what you want.”

  “I want to take photos of things that move people. No one’s going to be moved by me wearing Susanne lip stain.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it’s makeup, Braden. Who cares?”

  “Your followers.”

  “The mobs who follow influencers aren’t concerned about anything real.”

  “Do you know all of them?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  “Don’t you see, Skye? You have the chance to grow a platform. To reach people. Once you reach them, you can introduce them to the kind of photos that will move them.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  My mouth drops open.

  No wonder Braden has come so far.

  He’s fucking brilliant.

  “But,” he continues, “never take the first offer. I don’t care how high it is, counteroffer something higher.”

  “What if they tell me to go jump in the lake?”

  “Then they tell you to go jump in the lake.”

  “But then—”

  “Skye, show them you know what you’re worth. They’re not getting just Braden Black’s girlfriend with you. They’re getting an ace photographer, someone who can make their product look amazing. They know that, and if they don’t, they will soon.”

  “Wait a minute,” I say, my mind working overtime. “You didn’t…”

  “Of course not. I had nothing to do with them calling you. It may surprise you to know that I don’t have time to call cosmetics companies and ask them to hire my girlfriend.”

  I nod. It sounds really ridiculous when he says it.

  “Never be afraid to turn down the first offer. You’re new at this, so they know they can lowball you.”