Page 65 of Soft Tissue Damage
Cullan follows me, and the gate closes with a loud, metallic click that has a hint of finality. When I look around, he’s doing something on his phone, and then he slips it into his pocket.
Slowly, he draws me into his arms and kisses me, holding me close to his warm, hard body as the perfumed flowers and his rich, masculine scent go to my head. His lips devour mine, and his teeth nip at my lower lip. I open my mouth to invite him deeper, but he draws away.
“It’s beautiful here,” I breathe.
“Isn’t it?” But he’s only looking at me.
Stepping aside, he invites me to walk along the white pathway with him. I realize he’s fallen a few steps behind, and I glance over my shoulder at him. A primal look flares in his eyes, and my heart races.
His gaze drops to the high heels. “Have you ever shot rabbits, Elena?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never really been anywhere rural.”
He trails a finger down my bare back. “I used to shoot all the time back home as a boy. Rabbits have little white tails that flash as they scamper away. Taunting you as you line them up in the sights to take your shot. Seeing those pretty white tails always got my heart pumping. That flashof red I see when you walk in these shoes gets my heart pumping in just the same way.”
That’s why he likes these shoes? Because they remind him of hunting? Goose bumps erupt over my flesh, and I feel excited and fearful at the same time.
He tilts his head and smiles. “The moment you want to go home, we’ll go home. The night’s just so pretty, and I felt like being…” He takes a deep, pleasurable breath. “Myself.”
I feel a flicker of curiosity. I know professional Mr. Grant who’s always scrupulously polite and courteous to his nanny, but I’m curious to see more of his other side. Cullan, who kissed me in his car. Who chased me upstairs when I fled to his bedroom and said heated, crazy things as he pumped his thick finger inside me.
Cullan brushes his hand through my hair and tucks it behind my ear. His eyes are very sharp and bright, and something clicks in my mind about the shoes. About the chasing. Cullan doesn’t have a foot fetish.
He loves the hunt.
Heat floods my core. “I think I know your fantasy.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”
I glance around at the moonlit garden, the high walls surrounding the property, and the darkened windows of the house. “Can anyone see us?”
“The owners are away. I switched off the security cameras. No one can see in, and the whole place is locked up tight.”
Cullan thought of everything.
“Will we get into trouble?” I ask.
“Only if we get caught.”
That seems to be the theme of whatever it is that’s happening between us. Don’t get caught.Don’t let him catch you.
I do the most daring thing I’ve ever done. I stroll languidly along the garden path away from him. After I’ve taken a few steps, I glance back over my shoulder, wondering if I’m provoking him just by walking away.
His lips are parted, and his gaze scorches me as he scours me from the top of my head down to the red soles of my stilettos.
I think I’ve got his attention. Now I want to be even more daring.
I reach down to the hem of my dress and pull it up over my head. The night air kisses my bare body. I keep walking, and let the dress drop from my fingers.
I hear his muttered, hungry, “Fuck,” and his footsteps crunch on gravel as he follows me. I keep up the same languid pace, and Cullan matches it as we walk deeper into the garden, just a step behind me. I can feel his eyes on my body. The power that I feel right now is a rush.
I reach behind my back and unhook my bra, hold it out to the side, and let it fall provocatively from my fingers. I don’t know where this newfound daring has come from. Maybe it’s the last of my cocktail buzz. Or maybe I really enjoy the feeling of Cullan pursuing me.
I reach the water fountain, a beautiful white stone sculpture with gentle, trickling water, and I start to circle it. Cullan’s patience snaps, and I hear rapid footsteps behind me. Hecatches me in his arms and presses a burning kiss to the nape of my neck. His hands slide up my body to cup my breasts, and he tweaks my nipples, plucking them with calloused fingers. I moan, and my head drops back on his shoulder as he goes on kissing my throat and squeezing my breasts.
“You like taunting me, darlin’?” he asks in a harsh whisper between kisses. “You enjoy winding me up until I can’t take it anymore? That’s a dangerous game you’re playing.”
I turn in his arms, and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He’s so tall that my fingers can just reach the short hair at the nape of his neck.
