Now, nearly nose to nose, Stewart took a step backward and scanned me from head to toe. “Pity.”
I arched my brow.
“I hoped there was something you needed, something Ms. Madison wasn’t able to give you.”
“I-I didn’t eat earlier. She said I could get something…”
He stepped closer, his firm chest grazing my erect nipples. Taking the container, he reached for my hand. “Come, Miss Conway, let me show you the view.”
Like an animal to its slaughter, I followed, bare feet silently padding the hard tile surface until our destination came into view. Seeing the small table with the flickering candle, I gasped. Once he led me through the glass doors, the salt-scented humidity assaulted my senses while the warmth brought back feeling to my air-conditioner-cooled fingers and toes. Glancing at the table, I watched as the small flame protected within a glass chimney illuminated the beautiful balcony, creating a contrast to the dark ocean beyond.
“Stewart, this is beautiful. Did you talk to Lisa?”
His expression blanked. “I have, but not recently. Why?”
Was he an honest man?
Could I take his reaction to mean that he’d planned this himself, perhaps, without my comment to her about candlelit dinners?
I shook my head, my dark hair cascading around my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. It was just something I said to her.”
“You don’t like the ocean breeze?”
“No, I do. I like it very much. I always wanted to spend time at the beach, but even growing up near Miami, I rarely did.”
Stewart reached for my hand. “Tonight I don’t want to talk about your decision or the contracts. If you have questions, ask me tomorrow. We’ll talk, early. Tonight, I want to learn more about you, and if you want, I can tell you more about me.”
My lips pursed. “Do you swear you didn’t talk with Lisa?”
“I swear.” He crossed his heart with his finger. “Our last conversation was about breakfast tomorrow morning. It’ll be at six.” He glanced at his watch. “Which is getting closer by the minute.” With a raised brow he asked, “Do you want me to double-dog swear? I will.”
“No.” I giggled. “No need to go to all that trouble.” I looked out at the water, the same water I could see from my room a floor above. “This is beautiful.”
“It is,” he agreed, though his eyes weren’t on the water, but on me. “More beautiful than I dared imagine.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks as I looked down to my lap. Before I could respond, his fingers reached for my chin. “Tori, don’t look away. Never look away. You’re much too beautiful for that.”
“Tori?” I questioned. No one had ever called me Tori.
“I like it. I like that it’s my name for you and mine alone. When I call you Tori, you’ll know it’s our connection.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Our connection? Did we have a connection?
“Stewart, please tell me more about you. I know you lost your wife—you mentioned that. Did the two of you have any children? Do you have any children?”
He shook his head. “No. We tried. Lindsey even tried in-vitro. Some things even money can’t buy.” The cloud of sadness took away his self-assured façade.
“I know you said not to talk about the contracts, but there’s a lengthy clause about children, about not having them. Can you tell me why?”
Stewart opened the container that held grapes and popped one into his mouth. “I can, and I will, but not tonight. My turn to ask questions. Why didn’t you run? Why did you stay here tonight?”
“I don’t know. I’m scared and intrigued. I’m trying to not make a rash decision. After all, this will be the biggest decision of my life.” I sat straighter. “Can I believe you?”
“Implicitly.”
“So everything you told me about Randall and about his debt is true? His life is truly in danger?”
“That’s the reason for the deadline. If he doesn’t come up with the money by tomorrow afternoon… well, I suppose technically it’s
this
afternoon. He needs the money by
this
afternoon.”
I reached for the grapes, feeling the rumbling of hunger. When I did, Stewart pulled the container from my reach. “Let me,” he offered.
“I’m capable—”
“Shush, let me…” Taking one grape from the container, he held it near my lips.
Obediently, I opened my mouth. The grape was sweet and juicy as I closed my lips and bit through the skin. By the time I swallowed, he had another one waiting.
As I opened my mouth, he spoke, “Tori, I didn’t know how this would work. I still don’t. I didn’t plan on truly wanting you, but since you walked out of my office this afternoon, you’re all I can think about.”
When I closed my mouth on the next grape, his finger and thumb lingered between my lips. Instead of moving away, I sucked them, pulling them into my mouth and licking them clean. The groan that came from deep in Stewart’s throat told me what I’d suspected: I had power. Over this wealthy, older man, I had power. The realization gave me strength.
“You didn’t expect to want me?” I questioned. “Then why would you offer to marry me?”
He ran his finger over my lips. “I expected to want to fuck you. Who wouldn’t? But that was all, as I said, to have you available, to not have to mess with the uncertainty of buying companionship, or the annoyance of dating.”
Shaking my head, I tried to comprehend. “You would choose marriage over dating?”
“I told you that I didn’t want to talk about specifics of the contract, but you did read both of them, didn’t you?”
I nodded.
“Dating requires time and commitment. I don’t want to do that. If you sign the contract, our future is secure for at least the next ten years. You can get mad at me, I can piss you off, or…” His words slowed. “You may be happy and content. The point is, for ten years, it won’t matter.”
“There was a clause to void—”
“Yes, there is a clause that gives either one of us the right to void the contract and our marriage. However, as I’m sure you read, it comes with serious repercussions. While we’re married, you’ll have access to my wealth, more access to more wealth than you can imagine. If you decide to void our contract before the ten-year benchmark, you forfeit everything: everything you’ve accumulated during our marriage, anything you stand to gain in a divorce, and anyone else who benefits personally from your generosity as a result of our marriage will be subject to terms of repayment.”
I’d read that part. “Like Randall?” I asked.
“Yes, and your sister if you choose to pay for her continued education.”
My eyes widened. “I can do that?”
Stewart brought another grape to my lips. “As Mrs. Stewart Harrington you can do almost anything you desire.”
The
almost
floated in the air as I swallowed the sweet juice and accepted another.
Stewart continued, “After ten years, you’ll have claim to a quarter of my fortune with no clause for repayment by any of the benefactors of your generosity.”
“You keep saying
my
generosity. It’s your money.”
“As long as we’re married, it will be our money. I have no deep-seated desire to help your family. If helping them makes you happy it benefits me. The decision to help them will be solely on you.” Another grape brushed my lips. “After twenty years of marriage, you’ll be entitled to half of our accumulated fortune. If I void the contract before ten years, you’ll automatically receive fifty percent.” Stewart leaned forward. “My darling, that is more money than you can even comprehend. I assure you that I will not be voiding the contract.”
“Tell me more about Val, Marcus, and Lyle—mostly about Val. As long as we’re married, I can pay her undergrad and graduate school?”
“Tori, we have already spent more time than I wanted discussing the contract. However, if it eases your mind, I’ll repeat: once we’re married, you’ll have access to enough wealth to allow your siblings
carte blanche
at any university they desire. Now…” The flickering candle reflected in the shimmer of his heavy gaze as his finger lingered on my lips. “…tonight I want to learn more about my possible future wife.”
His touch was cool and tasted sweet from the grapes. While the gentle ocean breeze blew wisps of my hair around my face, I watched Stewart’s lids grow heavy, as if he were seeing me, yet imagining more than was before him. How did he expect to learn more if he didn’t want me to speak?
With only the hum of the waves stories below, the silence on the balcony grew louder until the only sound I heard was the swish of my pulse resonating in my head. Without my realizing it, Stewart had moved from his chair and was mere inches away: his cologne lingered in a cloud surrounding both of us with the masculine scent. Moving his finger from my lips, he traced my cheek and a line along my chin. Without thinking, I inclined my face toward his soft touch.
“Stand for me,” he said, offering me his hand. Though his command was soft, it was a command.
I obeyed.
“Tori, all I can think about is pushing you against that wall, ripping off those panties, and showing you what it’s like to be with a real man.”
With each word, I became suddenly aware that my t-shirt did little to conceal my sensitive, disloyal nipples. Trying to not give myself away, I fought to keep my eyes on his. It didn’t work.
Looking down, a smug smile came to his lips. “You want that too, don’t you?”
“You said that you wouldn’t… that we wouldn’t…”
“And I meant it. That doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”
Taking my hand, he rubbed it over his not-so-hidden erection. What he offered behind his jeans was big and hard. I wondered what his cock would look like if it were released from its denim confines. The image of him inside of me scared as well as fascinated me, all the while making me wet with desire. His blue gaze drank me in as I continued to allow my hand to rub up and down the bulge.
Humming, he continued, “You have no idea how badly I want to free myself from these jeans. Just having your hand there…” He nuzzled my neck. “…knowing you’re this close. You have me ready to come right now.” His warm breath on my collarbone, he purred, “Tell me you don’t want the same thing. Tell me you don’t want to be fucked right here, against this wall. Tell me you don’t want me to fill that void you’re feeling and satisfy the tension building within you.”
God!
He was so right. My insides ached with need.
“You’re wet for me already, without my even touching you, aren’t you?”
“Y-Yes, I’m wet.” Part of my brain told me that this was wrong, and that even having this conversation was wrong. The problem was that I could barely hear that part of my brain: the blood thundering through my veins as well as the sound of his heavy breathing overpowered everything else. As the stubble of his cheek brushed against mine, he pulled me closer, pressing me against the wall.
Before I registered the sense of entrapment, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his neck.
“Fuck,” he growled, pushing his knee between my legs, spreading them apart.
Despite my position, my sense of empowerment returned. I reached again for his erection, not freeing it, but rubbing, on my own, without his guidance. His jeans strained as his cock twitched below the material.
“Do you remember the question I asked you this afternoon?” he whispered, hot, needy breaths bathing my skin.
Hell, I couldn’t remember my own name. There’d been too much. “Which question?” I asked through panted breath.
“If you would fuck my fingers… I promised you no sex until you’re ready, but damn, girl, you’re so fucking ready. You just don’t know it. Let me give you the best orgasm of your life. If I can do that with only my fingers, then you can just imagine what I can do with my cock.”
“S-Stewart, I-I don’t—”
He reached under my shirt, stopping my words with the caressing of my breast, teasing the taut, hard nub of my nipple. “You don’t
want me to stop
? You don’t
think you should say yes, but you want to
? You don’t
know what it’s like to have an orgasm
?”
I buried my face against his wide chest, hiding my embarrassment in his cotton shirt. Everything he’d just said was true. It wasn’t how I’d planned on finishing the sentence, but nonetheless, it was true. Again, the amazing scent of cologne overpowered my already overloaded senses.
Continuing to fondle my breast, he reached for my chin and brought my eyes to his. “Don’t hide from me. I want to see every emotion behind your incredible eyes. That’s what I want out of this agreement. I want to watch those eyes as I take you places you’ve never been.”
I nodded.
“Words, Victoria, I need to hear it.”
“I want what you just said.”
His nose nearly touched mine, as he probed, “What did I just say?”
Damn him!
He was going to make me say it. “I want to feel your fingers. I want to have an orgasm.”
Letting go of my face, he reached for the waistband of my panties and teased the elastic band. “Have you ever had an orgasm?”
I shrugged. “I think. I’m not sure.”
A low chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. “Darling, if you’re not sure, you haven’t. Now, I still haven’t heard exactly what you want.”
The tension continued to build as his hand found my thighs.
“Shit, girl, you’re so wet, you’ve soaked these panties.”
Again, my cheeks blushed. “I-I should have worn the yoga pants. It’s just that…” I shyly admitted, “…I was about ready to go—”
He reached down and shifted his growing erection. “Fuck!” he interrupted. “Tell me what you want before I rip these panties right off of you.”
Gathering strength from his need, I reached for my own waistband and pushed the satin and lace down over my hips. “Stewart, I want you to fuck me with your fingers. I want an orgasm.”
His smile grew, while his eyes shimmered with seduction. “Tori, my darling, that’s one request that I’ll never deny you.”
The rough texture of the wall bit my back as his body once again pressed me against the outside of the building. When he lifted one of my legs with his knee, I reached for his shoulders. Before my exposure registered, his fingers opened my swollen lips and spread my wetness. I tensed at the intrusion until one of his fingers slid between my warm folds and inside of me. Simultaneously a long hiss filled my ears. It took me a moment to realize that the sound was coming from me. Everything he was doing felt incredible. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable like it had been with Wesley.