Page 45 of Reveal Me
I take a left and head towards the Sanctuary Suite, still carrying her against my chest like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.
Three masseuses rush to greet us. ‘Mr Beckett, we’ll take care of her for you.’
‘No, I’ll do it myself.’ If this doesn’t tell me I’m fucked—I don’t know what does. ‘Organise some clothes. Leave them outside the rainforest showers.’
I leave my staff with their jaws on the floor and open the door to the rainforest shower suite, an enormous room comprised of black marble and glass. The air is infused with eucalyptus and bergamot. There’s a changing area to the left, showers to the right. I lock the door behind us and turn on the multiple overhead rain heads. They cascade from the ceiling, while side jets create a cocoon of warm mist.
I set the princess down on one of the heated stone benches lining the wall.
‘How did you get into this life?’ She asks, her legs still trembling in the aftermath of our performance.
I swallow thickly, debating on how much to tell her. ‘A woman. We met at a party. We’d had a lot to drink. She brought me to a club similar to this one.’
‘And you liked it.’ It’s not a question.
‘I liked that I had something of my own, something that I could control, something I chose for myself that wasn’t marked out for me. A secret identity that separated me frommy brothers. To a lot of people, I’m just one of the “Becketts”–sometimes it’s suffocating.’
‘I get it, believe me, I get it.’ She sweeps a hand in front of her face. ‘How long were you two…?’
‘A year.’ I swallow. ‘We didn’t have a formal contract.’ My jaw ticks. ‘It didn’t occur to me that we’d need one.’
She stares at me for a long beat. ‘But you did?’
I shake my head. Even years later the memories still stir a dull ache in my chest. ‘I assumed our arrangement was exclusive, and I fell for her–hard.’
Realisation dawns in her eyes. ‘Oh.’
I blow out a breath. ‘To me, it was a real relationship. We kissed. We fucked. We played, mostly inside the club, but sometimes at her place too. I didn’t realise it was just sex to her. It kind of fucked me up for relationships after that. Truth is–I’m broken.’
‘You’re not broken,’ she says, touching her fingers to my lips. ‘You’re beautiful.’ Her earnest eyes bore into mine.
That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. But she’s wrong. I am broken. Because when it comes to choosing between this, what I have at the club, and what my brothers have–real relationships–love, I choose this. Because this is safer.
I take her hand gently in mine and move it from my mouth. ‘Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.’
I strip her slowly, starting with her mask. ‘Just so you know,’ She stares at me, silently contemplating. ‘I know this isn’t a relationship or whatever– but contract or no contract–I’d never do that to you.’
‘I’d hope not.’ Especially because I’m catching feelings way bigger than the ones I held for Hannah.
She places a finger beneath my chin and tilts my face to meet hers. ‘Apart from common decency, there’s not a man on this planet who could hold a candle to you.’ She drinks in mytorso as I unbutton my shirt. Her eyes widen and fill with a fresh appreciation.
‘If you keep looking at me like that, Princess, I’m going to take you again, right here in this shower.’
‘If you keep looking at me like that, I might just let you,’ her voice is low and full of wonder as she devours my naked body with her eyes.
I step under the steaming jets, reach for the bottle of shampoo and beckon her under the water with me. She stands, shakily, keeping one hand on the wall for support. Her vulnerability is my undoing. The urge to kiss her pouty lips is all-consuming. But I can’t. I won’t.
‘Turn around.’ I motion for her to face the wall. She rests both palms flat against the marble, and the jets bounce off her back.
Her hair is silk between my fingers as I work the shampoo through the strands, taking my time, letting the warm water carry away the bubbles. She tips her head back, eyes closed, completely surrendering to my care. The trust in that simple gesture undoes me further. What is this woman doing to me?
I squirt the body wash into my hands and lather it over her shoulders. She moans as my hands glide down her back, over the curve of her hips and then round to her stomach. I find myself memorizing every curve, every small mark on her skin. She’s pliant, leaning into my touch. Something in my chest tightens.
A soft sigh escapes her lips as my fingers skim higher until they reach her breasts. My dick is rock solid again, straining against her back.
‘Sean,’ she whispers.
‘Yes, Princess.’
