Naked: The Blackstone Affair, Book 1

Ethan brought me my coffee in bed the next morning. I sat up against the headboard and pulled the sheet up to cover me. He raised an eyebrow as he sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully handed the mug over. “I think I did it right, but you have a taste and tell me.”

I took a sip and made a face.

“I put half cream and three spoonfuls of sugar,” he said with a shrug. “You set up the coffee yourself. All I did was press brew on the machine.”

I kept him hanging for another minute before cracking a smile and taking another sip of my delicious coffee.

“What? Just making sure you’re trained in proper coffee prep. I have my standards.” I winked at him. “I think you’ll do in a pinch, Mr. Blackstone.”

“You devil woman, teasing me like that.” He leaned in to kiss me, careful of the hot coffee. “I like having the coffeemaker set up the night before. I wonder why I never thought of it.” He stayed close to my face, looking intently over me, his hair still messy from sleep and all the sex and still managing to look like a god. “I think you should be here every night to set it up just before you get in my bed.” He put his mouth right at my neck and grazed. “So I can bring you your coffee like this in the mornings, with you all naked and lovely, and the smell of me all over you from a night of shagging.”

I shivered from the words and the images of that reality, but we still had things to discuss. And this was an issue between Ethan and me. We didn’t talk enough about what needed to be worked through. When he got near me, the clothing dropped away, my body responded to him, and well, not much talking ever got done after that.

“Ethan,” I said gently, my hand at his cheek to stop him, “we need to talk about what’s going on. The bodyguard thing with Neil? Why would you do that and not tell me?”

“I was going to tell you last night after I brought you here but it didn’t work out like that.” His face fell away from me and he looked down. “The city is full of strangers right now, baby. You are a beautiful woman and I don’t think it’s safe for you to be taking the Tube and walking all over on your own. Remember that fucking idiot at the club.”

“But I was doing that before I met you, and I was just fine.”

“I know you were. And you were not my girlfriend then either.” He gave me one of his Ethan looks—the kind where I tense up and wait for the blast of Arctic air to hit me. “I run a security firm, Brynne. It’s what I do. How can I have you going all over London when I know the dangers?” He put a hand up to my face and started in with the thumb-rubbing action. “Please? For me?” He put his forehead against mine. “If something happened to you it would kill me.”

I brought one hand up to his hair and dug my fingers in. “Oh, Ethan, you want a great deal from me, and sometimes I just feel like I’m getting pulled under. There’s so much about me that you don’t know.” He started to speak and I shushed him with my fingers over his mouth. “Things I am not ready to share just yet. You said we could go slow.”

He kissed my fingers pressed to his lips and then tugged them down. “I know, baby. I did. And I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize you and me.” He kissed my neck and nipped at my earlobe. “Can we talk about a compromise?” he whispered.

I tugged at his hair so he would stop the seduction tactics and look at me. “First you need to actually talk to me and not try to distract me with sex. You’re very good at distracting me, Ethan. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll tell you if I can do it.”

“How about you accept a driver?” He took a finger and traced over the tops of my breasts where the sheet was slipping down. “No more walks to the Tube and hailing cabs in the dark. You have a car to take you anywhere you want to go”—he paused and pinned me with his very expressive eyes that told me so much about his desire to protect me—“and I can have some peace of mind.”

I took another sip of the coffee he’d brought to me and decided to ask my own pointed question. “And why do you need peace of mind about me?”

“Because you’re very special, Brynne.”

“How special, Ethan?” I whispered, because I was a little frightened to hear. I was frightened of my own feelings for him already. In such a short time he’d possessed me.

“For me? As special as it gets, baby.” He smiled his signature one side up twist and made my stomach flutter.

He didn’t say he loved me. But I hadn’t said it to him either. I knew he cared about me, though.

He looked down again and picked up my free hand palm up. My wrist scar showed. The one I’m ashamed of and try to hide, but is impossible to conceal when it’s daylight and I am naked. He traced over the jagged line with his fingertip, so gentle it felt like a caress. He did not ask me how I got my scar and I did not offer to tell him. The pain of remembering, added to the shame, paralyzed me from talking about it.

I had feelings for this man but I couldn’t share that with him quite yet. My indignity was too ugly and horrid to bring between us. Right now I just wanted to be wanted. Ethan wanted me. And that was enough to make me agree. Baby steps. I would accept his conditions for a driver, and he would accept my inability to share my past with him. We would go slow.

“Okay.” I leaned forward and kissed him on the throat above the vee of his T-shirt, the hairs of his chest tickling my mouth, his male scent already familiar to the point of downright necessity along with food and water and breathing. “I’ll accept the driver and you’ll tell me up front what you’re doing. I need honesty. I like that you are so blunt with me. You tell me what you want and I get it—”

“Thank you.” He started kissing me again. My coffee was set aside and the sheet was tugged away. Ethan pulled his shirt off and ditched the sweatpants and stretched out over me. I finally got a really good look at his body. Completely naked. In the light.

Sweet Jesus!

From his chiseled chest and tight nipples down to his impressive and beautiful cock, I was mesmerized. He was trimmed up neatly, nothing weird, just nice and totally masculine.

He stopped and tilted his head. “What?”

I pushed him back, so he sat on his knees and pulled my own self up. “I want to look at you.” I trailed my hands over him, over his nipples and that V-cut so sinfully sculpted it was truly unfair to the rest of the male population, to his thighs hard with muscles and dusted with dark hair. He let me touch him and control the moment. “You’re beautiful, Ethan.”

He made a sound in his throat and his body shuddered. Our eyes met and there was an exchange; a communication of feelings and an understanding of where we were heading in this force connecting us.

I looked down at his shaft, hard and pulsing. A drop at the tip confirmed how ready he was for me. I wanted him so badly I hurt. I wanted to give him pleasure and make him come apart like he did to me, totally blown into a million fragments. I lowered my head and took his beautiful penis into my mouth. I got my wish a few minutes later.

We broke in the shower too, or I should say I did when he propped me in the corner, dropped to his knees and returned the favor. The sex never ended with this man. And I was on board the sexy train right with him, flashing my frequent traveler pass. I had not had so much sex in—

Don’t go there and don’t ruin this time with him.

Ethan had a tattoo on his back. Right across his shoulders were medium-sized horizontal wings. They looked a little Goth and almost Greco-Roman in their black inked starkness. I loved the quote underneath the wings. No more yielding but a dream. I saw it in the shower when he turned to get the soap.

“That’s Shakespeare, right?” I smoothed over the ink with my hand, and that’s when I saw the scars. Many white lines and ridges. So many you couldn’t count them. I gasped a sharp breath, desperately sad to think about how badly he’d been hurt. I wanted to ask, but I held my tongue. I didn’t offer to tell about my scars.

He turned back around and kissed me on the lips before I could say another word. Ethan didn’t want to talk about his scars any more than I wanted to talk about mine.

• • •

More than a week of nights at Ethan’s place and I needed to get back to my flat for other than a grab of fresh clothing. I needed a recharge in my own home. Ethan agreed to come over here tonight. I told him slumming was good for the soul. He teased me back, saying it wouldn’t matter as long as we had something to eat and a bed because we’d both be naked for his sleepover. I told him that if Gaby showed up he’d have to get dressed; that I wasn’t going to allow my roommate the chance to lust after my boyfriend’s godlike physique. He laughed and told me he loved the sound of jealousy in my voice. I told him to show up hungry for dinner and fully clothed. He was still laughing when we hung up.

I changed into some yoga pants and a soft T-shirt after Neil dropped me back home. He’d picked me up from the Rothvale, plus a quick stop at the supermarket for ingredients for the Mexican dinner I’d planned. Ethan knew that Mexican food was my favorite, and I was determined to recruit him over to my team. On the menu tonight? Chicken tacos with corn salsa and avocado. If Ethan hated it, then I would fix him a burrito. No guy can resist a burrito packed with meat, beans, cheese and guacamole. I hope. Brits were weird about food.

As soon as I got the chicken started and my hands were washed I decided to call my dad. It would be morning for him but he’d be at work by now, and if he wasn’t too busy we could have a chat. I set my phone on speaker and dialed his office.

“Tom Bennett.”

“Hey, Daddy.”

“Princess! I’ve missed hearing your sweet voice. This is a surprise.” I smiled at my dad’s choice of name for me. He’d been calling me Princess ever since I could remember. And now that I was twenty-four years old, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest about continuing with the nickname either.

“I thought I’d call you for a change. I just miss you.”

“Is everything all right over there in London? Getting excited for the Olympics? How was Benny’s show? Did you like how your pictures looked when they were blown up huge on canvas?”

I laughed. “That was four questions all at once, Dad. Give a girl a break, would ya!”

“Sorry, Princess, I just get excited to hear from you. You’re so far away and busy with your life. The proofs you sent of your photos were magnificent. Tell me about Benny’s show.”

“Well, it was a success. Ben did well and the pictures sold. I’ve had some more jobs too, so I’m just taking it slow and we’ll see where this leads.” I was happy I could talk to my dad like this and that he supported my modeling. He thought it was good for me, unlike my mother, who was embarrassed by her daughter posing sans clothing.

“You’re going to be famous the world over,” he said. “I’m proud of you, Princess. I think that the modeling is going to help you. I hope you feel that way.” He sounded a little off to me, almost sad. “What are you doing right now?”

“I’m making dinner. Tacos. I have a friend coming over in a bit. Dad, is everything okay with you?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering me. I could tell there was something on his mind. “Brynnie, you heard about the plane that went down and Congressman Woodson’s death?”

“Yeah. He was the one they were going to tap for vice president? That was big news even for over here. Why, Dad?”

“Have you heard about who is replacing Woodson on the ticket?”

I never expected the name he told me. And just like that the past reared up and dug its claws in again.

“Oh no! Do not tell me Senator Oakley got the nomination! You’ve got to be kidding me if that—that—man could be the next vice president of the United States! How is it possible they want him? Daddy—”

“I know, sweetheart. He’s been working his way up the food chain these last years. First state senator and now U.S. senator—”

“Yeah well, I hope they all go down in a big ball of flames.”

“Brynnie, this is serious stuff. There’ll be digging into his past to find dirt on Oakley—on his family—by the incumbent party. I want you to be careful. If anyone approaches you or sends you anything suspicious, you need to let me know right away. These people have the resources to dig down deep. They are like sharks. When they scent even a drop of blood get ready for a sneak attack.”

“Well, Senator Oakley is the guy with the demon seed for a son. I’d say he has a very big problem then.”

“I know, sweetie. And Oakley’s people will work just as hard to keep his family secrets buried. It’s not a nice situation, and I hate that you’re so far away from home. But I do think in this case it might be a good thing that you’re in London. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, and the further removed you are the better. No evil stories to surface in the news or . . . anything else.”

Like a video. I knew that’s what my dad was thinking of. That video was still out floating around in cyberspace somewhere.

“You’re doing so well, Princess. I can hear it in your voice, and that makes your old dad smile. So who is this friend you’re cooking dinner for? It’s not a man, is it?”

I smiled as I mixed up the corn salsa. “Well I met someone, Dad. He’s really special in a lot of ways. He bought my picture at Benny’s show. That’s how we met.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” It felt weird telling my dad about Ethan all of a sudden. Maybe because I’d never talked to him about boyfriends much. There had never been reason to. I hadn’t wanted one for a long, long time.

“Tell me more. What does he do for a living? How old is he? Oh, and go ahead and let me have his number while you’re at it. I need to give him a call and set him straight on the ground rules with my baby girl.”

I laughed nervously. “Well, I think it’s a little late for that, Dad. Ethan’s pretty special, like I said. We spend a lot of time together. He really listens to me and I feel truly . . . happy with him. He understands me.”

Dad got quiet for a minute. I think he was shocked to hear me talk about a man like I really cared. And I shouldn’t have been too surprised either. Ethan was the first in a long line of firsts with me.

“What is this Ethan’s last name and what does he do for a living?”

“Blackstone. He’s thirty-two and he owns a private security company. He’s so paranoid he has me assigned to a driver so I won’t take the Tube to get around. All the influx of people for the Olympics has him nervous. So you don’t have to worry about my safety at all. Ethan is a pro.”

“Wow, that does sound serious. Are you . . . are you guys sleep—in a relationship?”

I laughed again, this time feeling sorry for my dad in his obvious discomfort. “Yeah, Dad. We’re having a relationship. I told you this one’s special.” I waited into the silence on the other end of the phone and started warming tortillas. “In fact he won some big poker tournaments in the States about six years ago. I thought you might have heard of him.”

“Hmmmm,” Dad muttered. “Maybe, I’d have to check.” I heard some muffled talking in the background.

“I should let you go, Dad. You’re working, and I just wanted to say hi and tell you what’s been happening with me. I’m doing well and things are good.”

“Okay, Princess. I’m so glad you called. And I’m happy if my baby girl is happy. Be safe and tell your new boyfriend if he hurts you he is a dead boyfriend. Don’t forget. And give him my number too. Tell him your dad wants to have a little man-to-man with him sometime. We can talk about poker.”

I laughed. “Right. Will do, Daddy. Love you!”

Ethan walked in just as I ended the call. He had a six-pack of Dos Equis and a predatory smile on his face. I’d given my key to Neil, who passed it along to Ethan so he could get in downstairs. He plunked down my key and the beer on the counter before asking, “Did I hear you telling someone you loved them just as I came in?”

I grinned and nodded slowly. “It was a man too.”

He came up behind me at the counter, put his hands to my shoulders and started rubbing. I leaned into his hard body and let myself enjoy the massage. “That bloke is one lucky fellow then. Wonder what he did that was so special.” He peeked down at the food sorted out in bowls and snagged a piece of cooked chicken. “Mmmmm,” he said as he savored it, his mouth at my neck.

“Well he read me bedtime stories. Combed out my wet hair without snagging and hurting. Taught me how to ride a bike and how to swim. He always kissed my boo-boos when I got scraped, and most importantly, opened his wallet frequently, but that wasn’t until later.”

Ethan grunted, “I can do all those things for you and more.” He stole another piece of chicken. “Especially the more part.”

I smacked his hand away. “Thief!”

“You’re a good cook,” he murmured against my ear. “I think I must keep you.”

“So you do like my Mexican dinner. I see you went with the theme and brought us Dos Equis. Smart move, Blackstone. You’ve got potential.” I started moving bowls to the table.

“Dos Equis is from Mexico?” He made a noise and shrugged. “I just chose that one because I like the ads . . . the most interesting man in the world.” He grinned malevolently and helped me transfer the rest of the food.

“A liar and a thief.” I shook my head sadly. “You just blew all your potential, Blackstone.”

“I’ll change your mind later I’m sure, Bennett.” He grinned over at me from the sink, where he washed his hands quickly and then opened two beers for us. “I have an abundance of potential,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Ethan delivered my Dos Equis and looked over everything set out on the table, head tilted in perusal. “Help me out here. How do I put your chicken tacos together, which smell very nice, by the way.”

I couldn’t help laughing at him. The way he said “tacos” in his British accent cracked me up. And how he worded things too. It just made me laugh.

“What’s so funny? Am I amusing you now, Miss Bennett?”

“Here, let me fix it.” I showed him how to put some chicken, corn salsa, a drizzle of sour cream, a sprinkle of shredded cheese and a couple slices of avocado on the tortilla and fold it. “You’re just adorable that’s all, Mr. Blackstone. That accent of yours—it makes me laugh sometimes.” I handed him his taco on the plate.

“Ahhh, so I went from losing all my potential to adorable in a very short time. And just by speaking.” He accepted the plate and waited for me to fix mine. “I’ll have to remember that, baby.” He flashed one of those million-dollar Ethan smiles at me and took a sip of his beer.

“So go ahead and take a bite. Give me your verdict and be aware that I will know if you lie to me.” I tapped my head. “Super powers of deduction.” I picked up my taco and took a bite, moaning in overexaggerated sounds of pleasure and arching my neck back. “So delicious I feel hot all over,” I purred across the table.

Ethan looked at me like I’d just sprouted devil horns and swallowed hard in his throat. I knew he would get me back later for the merciless teasing. I didn’t care. Ethan was fun. We had fun together, and that was part of what I loved about him. Love. Did I love him?

He lifted the taco to his mouth and took a bite. He stared at me as he chewed and swallowed. He wiped his mouth on a napkin and looked up in contemplation, pretending to count on his fingers. He took another sip of beer.

“Well, let’s see . . .” He focused on me. “Chef Bennett, I give you a five on execution. Laughing at me got you a five-point deduction right out the gate. I think a six on presentation—all that moaning and thrusting at the dinner table was a bit unfair, don’t you think? And a nine-point-five on taste.” He took another bite and grinned. “How did I do?”

He was so handsome sitting there at my table, eating the tacos I’d made, and sweetly telling me he liked my cooking, and just being Ethan, that I knew the answer to my question all in an instant. Did I love Ethan? Yes. I do love him.