Текст книги "Grace Street"

Автор книги: Ella Dominguez

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 8: Elsa, age 28. Profession: Biomedical engineer.

She only got halfway through the distressing passage when something on one of the monitors caught her eye and she saw Mr. Black rising from chaise. She stuffed his journal back into his satchel and turned everything off quickly, panic coursing through her body. She reached the door and looked back to see his briefcase wide open. She forgot to latch it, but there was no time. She quietly closed the door, locked it and hoped that he didn’t hear the noisy old latch when she did. She heard her name called out and sprinted into the master suite across the hall and into the bathroom, planting her ass on the seat.

Hearing footsteps on the stairwell, she suddenly remembered she still had the key and necklace in hand. She flung both out into the bedroom near the chair facing the wall and prayed he believed it had fallen off during their physical altercation.

He came sauntering in, rubbing the back of his neck, none the wiser of her little investigation. She kept her eyes to the floor as she tried to make herself urinate. She didn’t dare make eye contact for fear that he would see right through her little charade. Mr. Black was right – learning the skill of lying might just come in handy, especially around him.

Without so much as an acknowledgment, he unceremoniously undressed and climbed into the shower. Only then did Elsa let out the breath she had been holding. Her mind was still racing with what little she had read and she was itching to get her hands back on that journal.

Chapter Eight. So that’s what she was to him and now his words from Thursday made perfect sense. He had stated that she was no different than the other Chapters and she was dying to know what exactly he meant by that. She was different. She didn’t need to read the rest of his journal to know that, but that didn’t keep her from wanting to read about the ones before her and to see what else he had written about her.

But could she handle what else was written on those pages? His upsetting words were hard to forget. He admitted to enjoying her anxiety from the very beginning and she had only given him what he wanted by reacting the way she did. He also stated he was a sick and depraved fuck. Did he really believe that? If that was true, what a frightening thought. More than frightening. Mortifying.

It made her want to bolt in the opposite direction and to call the authorities, but who would she call? The police? What would they do when one of the FBI’s best was accused of being sick and depraved? Like Mr. Black had pointed out, those are subjective qualities. After all, other than the slap, he hadn’t really hurt her physically. Her allegations would go over like a lead balloon and no doubt her words would fall on deaf ears.

But the other side of him… the one he had shown her in her apartment… where did that part of his personality play into all of this? Or was his duality all part of his damned game to lure her in only to cruelly punish her? Damn Mr. Black and his secrets and games.

If she was Chapter Eight, then there were only seven others before her. She shook her head at the absurd notion. Of course there were more than seven other women he had relations with in his lifetime. Maybe he just didn’t chronicle them all. Perhaps he only recorded his writings about the ones that he showed a particular interest in.

“Why don’t you join me,” she heard from the other side of the shower door.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. She was still fuming from what he had put her through. When she didn’t respond and rose to leave, the door slid open, steam billowing out all around her. His large hand reached out for her but she darted past him before his grip took a hold of her.

“Elsa,” his voice boomed, halting her attempted escape.

Glancing over her shoulder, his well-developed, wet physique came into view and she was unable to stop her eyes from taking all of him in – all 200 lean pounds and six feet and however many inches he was.

He ran his palm over his face, wiping the water droplets from his eyes and gave her an insistent look as his eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“Ms. Cassidy,” he spoke strictly, “Shower. Now.”

“No thank you, I’ve already had one,” she huffed before leaving him to finish his shower alone.

She checked the state of her dress to find it still too damp to wear and went back downstairs to eat. Finding the soup that Mr. Black had made earlier, she reheated it and seated herself at the table. Halfway through her meal, he reappeared in only a towel wrapped around his waist and seated himself across from her. She kept her eyes focused on her food, refusing to make eye contact.

“How long are you going to be angry?” he asked without inflection.

“Until I’m not.”

“That man doesn’t deserve…” he started in.

She dropped her spoon loudly into the bowl and glared up at him. “How dense are you? I’m not angry about Patrick – I’m angry about what you did to me,” she said softly, barely able to hold back from breaking down again.

She could feel her temperature rising slowly and her body heated under his stern, green-eyed gaze. When her eyes became blurred with angry tears, she only became more incensed with herself for not being able to contain her emotions.

Her expression grew somber and she rigidly choked back her tears. “Haven’t you ever loved before?” Her throat began to close up and she forced her words out as she held his chilly gaze. “Haven’t you ever been so consumed with someone that you would do anything for them only to have them wreck you completely?”

Mr. Black leaned over the table, his normally insensitive eyes becoming liquid as he stroked her arm, but she turned away and tried to make herself as small as possible, not wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing her pain.

“How could you do that to me?” Unwelcome tears began to stream down her blanched cheeks and she swiped them away quickly.

In a flash, he was kneeling next to her, pulling her to his chest.

“Let him go, Elsa.”

“You really are thick,” she pulled out of his grip to face him. “I let him go a long time ago. I only called him because… I don’t even know why. I drank too much and… And what should it matter to you? I’m just another woman on your long list of physical associations,” she blurted out. And just another Chapter she reminded herself; a Chapter who was just like all the others in his eyes.

Knitting his brows together, he backed away from her and seated himself back at the table.

“Answer me: have you ever loved before?” she repeated.

His jaw tensed and the gritting of his teeth could be heard. “I don’t answer personal questions about myself.”

Elsa pounded her fist on the table as she straightened up in her chair. “Then let’s fuck and get this weekend over with.”

He frowned as he pushed his damp hair off his forehead.

“That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” she griped.

“Sex isn’t the only thing I want from you.”

Surprised by the sudden unexplainable sentiment in his voice, she challenged him. “Prove it.”

Reaching across the table, he grabbed her hands and turned them palm up as he circled his thumbs over them. His lips parted but only a sigh was heard. He did this several times, each time shaking his head as if he couldn’t find the words. Elsa became entranced as she watched his inner battle play out before her. His fingers continued sensually caressing her hands, the erotic tingling moving up her arms and hardening her nipples.

Hushed and barely audible, Mr. Black finally found the courage to speak. “Yes, I’ve loved.”

He gulped hard and shook his head again as his mouth opened one final time before he clamped it shut. That was all he was going to share; three words that carried the weight of a thousand. His dark eyes showed the tortured dullness of lost love and she knew he had been punished in his own way by love’s cruel fury and her heart ached for him.

Perhaps the harshness he had put her through earlier was his way of exacting some kind of misguided revenge on the one who had broken his heart. Or maybe he believed that doing what he did would force her to let Patrick go and keep her from ever loving another man again and being hurt.

In an instant, the realization hit her that she was not just another player in his game, but his muse – someone he was trying to manipulate into seeing things his way. In his own twisted reality, he really did believe that he was trying to help her. But she didn’t need his help or to be fixed. Most certainly not by a man with the kind of demons he was fighting.

Her thoughts were interrupted when he seductively moved closer, inching his way to her as his mouth descended on her palms. His closeness was so bracing, she felt drugged and her chest heaved as her breathing became uneven.

“Would you feel better if we stepped out and got a bite to eat? Would you like that?” he asked, as he nibbled the tip of her index finger playfully.

Elsa was too surprised by Mr. Black’s sudden mood change to do more than nod her head in agreement.

“Go and make yourself pretty for me,” he smiled as he flipped her hands over and kissed the tops of them.

She managed a small tentative smile. “I have nothing to wear.”

“You’ll find everything you need in the closet. And wear the same shoes you came with, the ones that say there’s a bad girl beneath your good girl exterior that likes to be fucked in bad ways,” he licked his upper lip.

What was it about this man that made her forget everything – time, place, purpose, logic… even the torment he had caused her and the upsetting words he had written about her? In that moment it was all forgotten. The world only consisted of the two of them, both exposed and heart-broken. But what was it that lured her to him? It was how he looked at her as if no other person in the world existed or mattered to him. His insatiable hunger was present not only in his compelling gaze, but his devastating touch.

If only he was this man all the time. The one giving into his carnal desires and unable to resist putting his mouth on her…This perfectly fucked up man in front of her who had claimed her with merely a touch and a glance, and a piece of paper with four words on it.

11: Respite

Victor knew he was playing with fire by ignoring the rules of the game he had set forth by taking Eight out in public. It was a rule he had strictly adhered to with his other Chapters and for good reason. Richmond was too close of a community and if was seen with her, people would start asking questions. More than that, his environment wouldn’t be controlled like it was within the walls of their designated meeting place and he couldn’t replay the images of their encounter on video to study later.

As he buttoned his shirt he shook off his hesitation and reminded himself that it was only dinner. Anyway, it would be the perfect opportunity to watch how Eight interacted with him and others in her natural habitat. He chuckled under his breath. Even though she could be ferocious at times, she wasn’t some confined animal that was being reintroduced back into the wild.

Just then, she came out of the closet wearing the lacy white dress he had bought for her the day he had purchased the brownstone. The fabric was just sheer enough that he could make out her pink areola and hardened nipples under the bright bedroom lights. She spun around showing herself off, and at the right angle, he could even make out the shape of her uniquely puffy labia, stirring his arousal. When she noticed where his eyes had settled, she tugged her skirt down nervously and looked up at him as if pleading her case. Yes, this little outing will be quite interesting.

She seated herself on the edge of the bed and slipped on her fuck-me pumps and her look was complete. He grabbed her hand and pulled so hard he yanked her upright. Guiding her by the shoulders, he led her to a full-length mirror and stood behind her. He was almost a full head taller than her 5’ 6” frame and his hulking physique shadowed hers. He watched her reflection in the mirror as she looked them both over.

He held her by the waist and pulled her snug against him. “We look amazing together, wouldn’t you agree?” he breathed into her ear.

Her eyes roamed endlessly over his face and their bodies as if trying to formulate a coherent thought, but she remained silent. Victor studied her expression, unable to read her thoughts. He liked that she was no longer an open book and that he had to work for her trust now. She had given it too freely in the beginning, but she was learning under his tutelage the dangers of trusting a handsome stranger.

“I’ll take your stunned awe of silence as a yes,” he lifted one side of his mouth in a crooked smile. He glanced at his own reflection and the look on his face suddenly delivered a mental kick to his balls. The smile that had been meant to be playful toward Elsa looked sinister. He stepped back, suddenly feeling disgusted at the familiarity of it.

Staggering to the bed, he sank onto it as his heart began beating rapidly out of control and his breathing becoming more labored with each passing second. Not this again. He closed his eyes and began counting down from one hundred. He got to eighty-eight when a soft voice brought him out of his self-loathing.

“Mr. Black…” Elsa’s voice sounded a million miles away.

Prying his eyes open, she was kneeling between his legs with her hands resting on his thighs. Her look of utter concern crushed him and he recoiled. He didn’t need her concern nor did he want it.

“Mr. Black…” her voice was louder and more insistent. “I didn’t mean to upset you with my silence.”

Regaining his composure, he swept her hair from her forehead and tipped her head back so he could study her face more closely. He stared into her mahogany eyes and what he saw gazing back was true sorrow. This charming creature hadn’t even done anything wrong and she was remorseful for the pain she thought she had caused him. Even after everything he had put her through, she was repentant.

He dipped his head down and dusted his lips against hers. What a truly sweet and easily pliable peach she was.

***

The look of panic on Mr. Black’s face troubled Elsa. No matter what he had done to her, she never wanted to be the reason for that look on his face again. His tongue slipped past her lips and his kiss sang through her veins. She liked this version of Mr. Black – the one who was relaxed, playful and flirty.

“We do look amazing together,” was all she could get out before his mouth smothered hers again.

With his hands gently holding her head in place and his demanding lips caressing hers, dinner out suddenly sounded like an unnecessary interruption. A night in would be much more entertaining so long as he stayed in this mood. Her eyes remained closed when she felt him rise to his feet and pull her up. His slow drugging kiss had left her feeling high and wobbly on her feet, but his firm grip steadied her as he led her down the stairs.

“We can walk to the restaurant from here,” he stated. “It’s only three blocks away and the night is perfect.”

Once on the street, the warm, sultry May wind dampened her skin. The sun was almost out of view and the sky was muted with dark blue, orange and violet hues. Elsa inhaled deeply the gritty metropolitan scent of Richmond. It was beginning to feel like home.

Mr. Black took a hold of her hand as they walked unhurriedly in the direction of the main activities on Grace Street. His hold on her was unyielding, his fingers unabashedly interlaced with hers. Surprised by the unassumingly endearing gesture, she stared at her hand in his. Was this the same man who had tormented her only hours before? She watched him closely as they walked the distance to the restaurant. He was always two steps ahead of her, his head turning in every direction as he scanned their surroundings. When she would dawdle to look at something, his eyes would dart back to her and he would tug her hand to keep her close to him and moving along.

As they rounded a corner, a couple on a park bench engaged in light petting immediately caught her attention. It was that voyeuristic side of her rearing its naughty head again. She couldn’t help it. It was in her nature. She paused as she watched them curiously when Mr. Black yanked on her hand again. She tugged back, halting his movements. As she watched with adoration the couple whose kissing was becoming increasingly more intense, she heard Mr. Black’s breathy chuckle next to her. He moved behind her and kissed her neck.

“So you like to watch, do you?”

Elsa’s cheeks burned, but still, she couldn’t take her eyes off of the attractive couple. She licked her lips and turned her head to see the wickedest of smiles on Mr. Black’s mouth.

“I thought you knew everything about me?”

His grin widened. “I strive to know everything about you, but there are just some things I can only learn by spending time with you.”

She returned his smile and glanced at the couple again when he gripped her hand.

“Are we going to stay here all night watching these two or go make our own fun?”

She wouldn’t mind staying to watch the conclusion, but something in his voice and statement urged her away from the amorous man and woman. Yes, she wanted to make her own fun with Mr. Black.

Two blocks later, her feet started to ache. Luckily they arrived at their final destination only a few minutes later. It looked like an upscale restaurant and when she peered into the window, it was bustling with well-dressed patrons. Suddenly feeling exposed in her see-through dress, she began to have second thoughts. Without a doubt people would see her naked body underneath, possibly even her tattoo. What a distressing thought.

Mr. Black seemed to sense her hesitation and smiled down at her as if amused with her discomfiture. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of her humiliation this evening and she straightened herself with pride.

As they waited for a table, a man who recognized Mr. Black approached them.

“I’m to be called by my given name in public,” he whispered in her ear.

“Victor!” the older, gray-haired and well-put together man put his hand on Victor’s shoulder.

The man’s eyes immediately focused on her face first then slowly moved down her body. Her face flushed under his probing gaze and she scanned her shoes – the ones that said, yes, she did like being fucked in bad ways. Undoubtedly, Victor was enjoying this.

His hand rested on the small of her back, giving her comfort when she felt a finger on her chin, bringing her face up.

“Say hello to District Attorney Drew Matheson.”

Elsa cringed but forced a smile. Here she was dressed like a call girl and meeting the esteemed District Attorney for Richmond. He thrust his hand at her and her good manners kicked in. She shook his hand and made brief, polite conversation about being new to the area. He seemed authentically interested as well as surprised, though she had no idea why.

“This is a treat,” he added when there was a break in conversation. “I can only think of one other time I’ve seen Vic in the company of a female and that was a very long time ago. You remember that, don’t you, Vic?” he glanced at Victor.

The muscle in Victor’s jaw quivered with agitation.

“You must be one special woman,” Drew added.

Her demeanor immediately brightened and her embarrassment abated. Victor’s large hand slipped around her waist, drawing her nearer to him as his expression darkened. Glaring at Drew, his grip tightened. He held her so close against his body, his heat could be felt penetrating the delicate fabric of her frock.

“She is special,” he commented, stunning Elsa. He leaned down into her ear and whispered so softly she could barely hear his words, “and mine.”

Too shocked at what he had just said and the way he reacted, she didn’t hear the rest of their exchange. Was this the real Victor in front of her or the Game Maker? She stared at him, dumbfounded and turned on. Never in a million years would she have guessed this man to be the jealous type – not with all his confidence and austerity. Anyway, whether or not she liked it, she was still just another Chapter according to his own words.

As the hostess seated them, she watched him closely for some sign of acknowledgement of what he had just told her, but he showed no further emotion.

She reached for the menu, when he gently pushed it down.

“There’s no need for you to worry over such things. I’ll order for you.”

It was hard to be offended by his offer and he did know her likes and dislikes, after all.

While he ordered for her, she slipped her shoes off under the table. The sexy platforms were meant to entice and not for any longer of a walk than it took to get to the bedroom. Once the waiter left, Victor reached under the table and took her foot into his strong hands and began circling his thumbs into her aching arch. His fingers explored the soft spots of her feet, the raw sensuousness of his touch scorching through her body. His eyes examined her face as he sat silently teasing her with his caressing fingertips.

He was so relaxed, she couldn’t resist taking advantage of his good mood. She had opened the door earlier with her question and he walked through it, and she wasn’t about to let him retreat again.

“When you said you’ve loved before, were you talking about your wife?” she cautiously inquired.

He shook his head and one side of his mouth lifted in a wry smirk. “I already told you I’m not married.”

“You also told me that lying is part of your game. So… are you lying?” she asked genuinely concerned.

The muscle in his jaw tensed even though the twinkle in his eyes was hard to miss. But, as ever, he was otherwise unreadable. When he didn’t immediately answer, her mouth became unbearably dry. She would be sickened if she found out he was married, not just heart sick, but physically ill.

“Please tell me you’re not married,” she pleaded.

He smiled, but didn’t answer.

“Please, Victor,” she begged again. His given name felt foreign on her lips.

His mouth parted as he blinked long and hard. What did that mean? Elsa was frantic as she formulated all sorts of things that would come from his mouth – an explosion of irritation for her continued prying or worse, an admission of being married.

Finally he answered smoothly, “I already did.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Amused, he chuckled while squeezing her foot. “I don’t really care if you do or not.”

Her eyes squinted critically and when she responded, she made sure there was no ambiguity in her statement. “You should because if I ever find out you’re being unfaithful to your spouse, I don’t care what you do to me, our agreement will be null and void.”

Victor’s brows went up, clearly enjoying their dialogue and his smile reached from ear-to-ear. “Null and void? Oh, Elsa, do you really think you can end things between us that easily?”

Exasperated that the conversation was going nowhere, she sighed. Why did he have to be so difficult? Would he always be like this? Would every bit of information she got from him have to be painfully extracted?

As she sat mulling over everything that had happened in the last ten hours, he reached his hand under the table and began massaging her other foot. This man… always brooding yet so damned irresistible.

Once their food arrived, they began eating in silence. Uncomfortable with the unnatural quietness, she started talking about the most mundane and nonsensical things. She could hear her own voice and how anxious she sounded, but it was like she was unable to shut herself up. She was nervous. Halfway through some ridiculous statement, Victor cut her off.

“Do you always find it necessary to try and fill the silence?”

She closed her mouth and shrugged. “I enjoy good conversation. When it’s not one-sided, that is.” Undeterred, she asked, “Do you enjoy your job?”

The corners of Victor’s eyes tightened as they strayed from her eyes to her mouth. “What job would that be, Ms. Cassidy?”

She immediately mentally cursed herself. She wasn’t supposed to know anything about him. Looking down at her food, she did her best to hold her composure and prayed he couldn’t see through her pretense. She could play this game, too. She met his gaze and didn’t blink an eye. “Whatever job is it that you do.”

His eyes continued to roam over her face, trying to read her, but she didn’t waiver. She couldn’t or else, God only knows what the consequences would be.

Bringing his fork to his mouth, his facial features relaxed and he responded, “I’m good at it.”

She let out the breath she had been holding, proud of herself for having played his game his way, and gulped down the non-alcoholic Asian pear sparkler that he had ordered for her.

“But do you enjoy it?” she repeated.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, “Certain aspects. How about you? Do you enjoy your job?”

Her insides tingled. Victor was engaging her in normal conversation, something everyone took for granted – but not her. Not with this man. “Most of the time. I enjoyed it more when I had coworkers to bounce my ideas off of. I thought I would enjoy the solitude, but…” she trailed off, feeling like she might be sharing too much. “I’m easily distracted,” she whispered while she began to pick at her food.

“I’m well aware of that,” she heard from across the table.

When she looked up, he was sitting with his hands in his lap and watching her pensively, probably thinking about what he was going to write next about her or how he was going to compare her to his other ‘Chapters.’ Her thoughts were on the tip of her tongue and if she were to just open her mouth the slightest bit, all of them would spill out. She bit her bottom lip to prevent that very thing from happening when Victor spoke.

“What’s on your mind?”

Thinking quickly, she responded, “How normal you seem outside of 2500 East Grace Street.” The sweet sound of genuine joy floated up from his throat, a deep and throaty laugh escaping his mouth. “Even though I’ve been told ‘normal’ is a subjective trait,” she grinned.

He laughed louder. “Touché, Elsa.”

***

Victor didn’t do ‘normal,’ but he supposed this was about as good as it would ever get for him. He was quite enjoying dinner with Eight. She was engaging and friendly with nervous energy bubbling just under the surface. He liked her that way – always on the edge of her seat, wondering what was coming next.

The choice of attire he had chosen for her had brought out her soft reserved side, a side he didn’t see often, but he liked that she didn’t enjoy freely showing herself off in public. The other Chapters, particularly Three and Four were all too eager to flaunt themselves in front of anyone who would look their way. Though he enjoyed Eight’s modesty, in the privacy of the bedroom is where he drew the line. There – he wanted full exposure without hesitation.

Victor gave a quick look in the direction of Drew who kept glancing over at him and Elsa. He hadn’t liked the way Drew had blatantly ogled Elsa and he felt disrespected. He just had to bring up Chapter One, too, didn’t he? Motherfucker. He’d never liked that man. On too many occasions Drew refused to file charges against people because: A. Either he was too damned lazy and didn’t want the hassle, or ,B. He was too concerned with his public image to risk trying a case he might lose.

He took a swig of his whiskey and Coke when the Cambridge case popped into his mind. Thankfully it was a federal case and, therefore, would be tried in a Federal Court of Law and the S.O.B. Drew Matheson would have nothing to do with it. If the killer was ever caught.

Fucking Anthony Bruce. Why hadn’t that asshole contacted him yet? He made a mental note to get in touch with him by Tuesday, at the latest. He and everyone involved in the case was already doing everything they could on their end and he was tired of waiting for that cock sucker’s assistance.

He felt a warm touch on the top of his hand, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“What’s on your mind, Victor?”

He liked the way his name sounded coming from her unspoiled mouth. Of course, he also enjoyed being called his alter ego’s name. But for now, his given name would be just fine considering the circumstances.

“A little bit of this, a touch of that,” he answered mysteriously. “Did you know that sexual arousal is also subjective, Elsa?” he added for fun.

She shook her head and pinched her eyebrows together.

“It is, in fact. However, for me, sexual arousal is my main objective.”

“Isn’t it for most men?” she asked ironically.

Another laugh caught him by surprise. This woman had a sharp, dry sense of humor, even if she didn’t realize it herself.

“Yes, I suppose,” he nodded in agreement as he waved the waiter over for their check.

Dinner had been short, but he had a plan of action that was beckoning him. Elsa had a voyeuristic side to her – something they shared in common and a revealing detail he hadn’t foreseen. But as always, he was quick on his feet and he had been plotting out something sinful all during dinner. He would kill two birds with one stone while both pushing her limits and achieving his main objective.

***

Elsa was disappointed their dinner had ended so quickly. She wanted more time with Victor while he was still in his ‘normal’ state of mind. She grabbed her shoes as they left the restaurant, deciding to walk the three blocks back to 2500 East Grace Street barefoot. The sidewalk was dirty, but the cool pavement felt good on her soles.

Victor took her hand again and led the way. She stopped several times in front of shop windows to peek inside, but was pulled along like the tides of the ocean by the moon. Peaceful and content to be tagging along behind the enigmatic and dangerous man known as Mr. Black, she had forgotten about everything he had put her through. Well maybe not so much as forgotten, but pushed the things Mr. Black had done to the back of her mind in favor of the time she was spending with Victor. She just wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted, however fleeting it may be.

Her attention was somewhere other than on what was in front of her when Victor unexpectedly pulled her into a dark alcove and shoved her up against a brick wall. There was no time to think or to comprehend what was going on when his mouth and hands ravaged her. She felt the heady sensation of his lips against her neck and her blood pounded in her temples when he hauled her skirt up an over her hips. Dropping her shoes, she let out a small moan and fisted his hair.