Page 38 of The First Taste
Keir pulls up a video, putting it on mute and playing it for a few seconds. My heart contracts in my chest when I see myself, fully naked, astride a flushed-looking Keir. He is treating sex like it’s a competition that he aims to win, thrusting upward to meet my body, a wicked look in his eyes.
The way he’s looking at me in the video gives me chills, because I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me that way before. Mean, hard, admiring… all three, at once somehow.
I reach out and snap the laptop closed, my cheeks burning. “Keir!”
“Relax, sweetheart,” he growls. “I’m not about to announce to everyone that I have a sex tape floating around in the ether. I was just showing you that I have this copy.”
My hand flutters up to clutch at my necklace. “So… that’s it? I can just… go home?”
I won’t lie, a teeny little itty bit of me really hates that idea. My heart twists in my chest.
Keir studies me cool. “Not so fast, sweetheart.” He drums his fingertips on the top of the computer. “The video is stored in the cloud. And apparently it has already been accessed by three IP addresses. One is registered to the reporter. But the other two are using end to end encryption.”
Raising my brows, I shrug. “What does that bunch of jargon mean?”
“That two other people in the world may have seen the video. And those people may have copies.” He makes a frustrated sound, running his hands through his hair.
“So… there may be another blackmailer?”
He nods slowly. “I know for a fact there is someone out there who is knee-deep in this. Because when I tried to have my IT guy turn off the dead man’s switch, he said that the switch was already reset remotely. There is someone watching me, waiting for me to…” Keir’s mouth balls up. “Fuck. I don’t even know. Make a mistake, maybe.”
“What if you already made the mistake?” I ask softly. He looks up at me, arching a brow. I push on. “What if I’m your mistake?”
Of all the reactions I’m expecting, a bleat of laughter is not among them. He laughs and runs his hand through his thick, dark hair again.
“That much I already know, Ella. Fucking you was certainly a mistake. And one I will pay for dearly, it seems.”
At that moment, the plane hits some turbulence, enough to send me skittering across Keir’s lap. His strong hands catch me, holding me firmly. Electricity sizzles up my arms and straight to my core. His face is only inches from mine, reminding me all too much of our first kiss.
Just like that, I am primed and ready. I lick my lips, darting a glance at his mouth.
I look up in his eyes, wondering if he feels the same way. I swear, I can see a hint of that same fiery look, just the same way he looked at me when we were fucking.
Then Keir shatters my moment by pushing me off his lap. I’m not ready for it, so I tumble onto the seat across from his.
“Ella,” he grits out. A warning. A prayer. “Don’t go misconstruing what happened. It was just a one night fling.”
I swallow against the sudden lump in my throat. “I know that.”
He stands up, folding his arms across his chest. “We’re employer and employee now. Until we get this whole blackmail thing sorted, that’s all that I’m interested in. Then you go back to your life, and I keep on living mine.”
“Great.” It comes out sounding harder than I meant it, but I can’t stand the way he’s looking at me right now, disgust in his expression. “That’s what I want, Keir. I wasn’t the one who wanted to get on this plane in the first place.”
A muscle flexes in Keir’s jaw.
“I think you’d better call me Lord Grayrose, Ella.”
The gall of the man. I glare daggers at him.
“Fuck you, Keir.”
His hands bunch into fists. He stands there for several seconds, looking absolutely livid. And then he turns, heading back through the thin curtain, swatting it away and storming off.
And me? I feel like if we are playing a game, I earned a point. But maybe I don’t even understand the rules yet…
Thirteen
Ella has her face plastered against the back window of the limousine as we progress down the rain-slicked streets of Glasgow. It’s late at night and this part of the city is raucous. NewsCorp moved its headquarters a few years ago from the uptight, tie-wearing financial district to the new headquarters, a three-story building that is centered right in the heart of the Arts District. At the time, it was widely regarded as an out of the box decision. Frankly, most of the city’s residents hated us moving into their little nest of theaters and clubs and live music venues.
