Say My Name (Stark International Trilogy 1)

I lick my lips. I am undeniably aroused—he’s definitely nailed that much. But I’m scared, too. “What will you do?”

“All sorts of things, baby. Because the more you give, the less scared you’ll be.”

“You’re talking kink? Bondage? Toys?”

“All of the above. But we’ll start slow.” He brushes my lips with his fingertip. “Is that panic in your eyes, or excitement?”

“A little of both,” I admit.

“You ran from me in Atlanta because I didn’t know what you were battling. But I do now, and we’re going to fight it together. And, sweetheart, I think this is one battle we’re both going to enjoy.”

I am breathing hard, my body tight with anticipation and wonder. Could he really be right? Can I really beat back my fears by giving in to Jackson’s desires? Hell, to my own desires?

“Will you let me help you?” His voice is tight. Earnest. “Will you give yourself to me and let me fight this battle for you?”

I draw a breath, seeing him now as the knight from my fantasies. “Yes. Oh, god, Jackson. Yes.”

“Good.” His grin is slow and very, very wicked. “Now take off your clothes.”

I want to protest that we are outside on a vacant lot, but the words won’t come. I have just agreed to submit, and damn me, I do not want to take back what I have given him.

And, truth be told, the idea of standing naked on this hilltop with Jackson is undeniably exciting.

I strip, then lay my clothes on the jacket he has taken off. Once I’m naked, he steps behind me, then cups my breasts and slides his hands over me. “You’re mine now,” he says. “These breasts, this body. This cunt.” His fingers tease me, and I tilt my head back, losing myself in the sensation of being stroked, aroused. “No touching without permission, sweetheart. I find out you got yourself off, and there will be a price to pay. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“This is how I want you always,” he adds, stroking my sex and teasing me to the brink. “Wet and hot and open for me. So close to the edge that the stroke of my finger over the palm of your hand makes you explode. I want you ready for me. Wild for me. Not because I demand it, but because you want it. Not because I’m taking, but because you’re giving.”

He’s been stroking me in time with his words, teasing my clit with tight circles that are building and building until I am quite certain that I will come so hard and so fast that I could fly all the way to the Pacific.

“Tell me you want that,” he demands.

“Yes,” I say as he turns me in his arms, then gasp as his mouth closes over mine. The kiss is deep and wild and deliciously intimate, and I cling to him, afraid that I will fall to the ground if I don’t.

When he breaks the kiss, he breaks all contact, and I whimper, because I was so very close to breaking apart in his arms.

“Please,” I say, but he only shakes his head and tells me to get dressed.

“But—”

“You don’t want to be late, do you?” he asks, and I grimace, because I have entirely forgotten that we are supposed to be in Malibu.

I slip on the dress then bend for my panties, but Jackson gets them first, and tucks them in his pocket. “You don’t need those.”

“Are you insane?”

“Possibly,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean you get the panties back.”

seventeen

“Mr. Steele,” Nikki says, holding out her hand to greet Jackson at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again. And, Syl, I love the dress.”

“Thanks. You look amazing as usual.” Nikki is blessed with the kind of girl-next-door good looks that win beauty pageants but still keep us lesser mortals from hating her. Today, she’s in a flowing blue dress that pulls off both elegant and casual. Her shoulder-length blond hair frames her face, and she seems to glow with happiness.

“Let’s get you both a drink,” she says, moving between us so she can take both me and Jackson by the arm as we walk toward the stunning staircase that leads to the Starks’ third-floor living room. “I was thrilled when Damien told me you’d agreed to do the resort. I think you’ll bring something very special to the project.”

“I’m happy to be on board,” Jackson says, and I can’t help but wonder if Nikki notices the way his eyes go to me. “Sorry we’re a bit late.”

“Traffic on PCH was a bitch,” I add, hoping Nikki can’t tell the way my cheeks are heating. Because the truth is, I don’t really want to be here. Not now. Not when I’ve got nothing on under this dress and all I want to do is feel Jackson’s hands on me.