Dare to Surrender (16 page)

I arched my back, pushing myself closer, giving him more of me, and he took, lapping at my breast, nibbling and grazing my taut nipple with his teeth until I thought I’d come from those exquisite sensations alone.

As usual, he gave, but this time I wanted to return the favor, to make him feel as much as I did. He’d been solitary and alone for so long, and I wanted somehow to make him understand that he wouldn’t be that way anymore. But he was intent on his task and held me to him in a way that didn’t give me room to take over.

Suddenly he released my nipple with a pop. “You’re not focused,” he said in that dark, displeased voice that never failed to make me wetter and more aroused than I already was.

“I’m focused on figuring out how to make you feel as good as you’re making me.”

Instead of being pleased, he scowled. “Then I’m not doing enough to keep that busy mind of yours occupied.”

“But—”

Without a word, he lifted me over his shoulder and carried me from the water. My bare breasts rubbed against his back, and despite my humiliation at his hold, I moaned at the erotic feeling.

Now I was more embarrassed than anything else. Damned frustrating man. “Gabe! Put me down!”

“Gladly.” He deposited me back on the chair while releasing the last tie keeping my bikini top in place.

Suddenly my breasts were bare. Before I could cover myself, he grabbed both arms and tied them together with my bathing suit top, then raised them over my head. “Don’t. Move.”

His gaze came to my breasts, thrust forward by virtue of their position, and his eyes darkened with lust.

I swallowed hard. “Why?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Because you weren’t getting the pleasure I intended for you to receive. You weren’t paying attention. Now you have no choice.”

“No, why do you tie me up?” I asked, really not understanding. Yes, it felt good. Yes, it forced me to think about nothing but every stroke of Gabe’s tongue and the erotic things he did to my body. But his answer didn’t make sense to me, and I wanted more. I wanted to know what went on inside his head. I’d only begun to get him to open up.

His greedy gaze roamed over me, and I
knew
my bikini bottoms would come off next. And he still hadn’t answered me.

Warily, watching him the entire time, I lowered my hands—against his instructions. He reached out and tweaked my nipple hard. It hurt for an instant before blossoming into arousal, as evidenced by the moisture dampening my bathing suit.

I drew a shuddering breath. “Answer me, and I’ll listen. And tack on an explanation for the need to cause a little pain with your pleasure while you’re at it.”

“Brat,” he muttered. A grin tipped the edges of his sensual lips despite his best effort to remain serious.

“I need it, Iz. I need the control.”

I got that much. “Why?” Everything inside me screamed it was more than an erotic kink, and I wanted to understand.

He exhaled hard. “I’m a caretaker.”

“You were forced into the role when your parents died.”

“It’s just who I am. With other women, it was kink. With you, it’s a driving, blinding need to give you pleasure at my hand. If you’re tied, you have no choice but to give over to the pleasure.” He paused.

And I rewarded his openness by lifting my arms back in place.

A blazing heat entered his eyes along with an appreciative smile on his lips. “It’s simple,” he went on. “If you argue or stop me like you did before, then I’m not doing my job, I’m not taking care of you. And make no mistake, kitten, I always intend to give you what you need. A little bondage, some light punishment, puts you back in the right headspace. That’s it.” He lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. “It’s all about you. It’ll always be about you.”

Liquid warmth oozed through my veins at his gruff admission. It wasn’t just about kink, it was about me.
I
mattered. I couldn’t remember when anyone had really cared about me before Gabe.

Tears threatened, and I struggled not to let them fall. Unfortunately, emotion got the best of me, and I choked back a sob. He was beside me in an instant, removing the ties to free my hands and pulling me into his arms, all thoughts of anything but comforting me forgotten.

Chapter Sixteen

Isabelle: Not All About Me

T
he rest of my time in Eden passed in a blissful blur. Work took up more time than I thought it would after realizing Gabe was on the island. To his credit, he really did let me have uninterrupted working hours with his sister. Today was our last day. Sadness engulfed me, but I’d always remember this island as the time I’d rediscovered Gabe and what it meant to really know someone and to care.

Lucy and I had agreed on one last meeting, and early morning, we sat in the basement at a table that had belonged to the original dance club, refining ideas. Lucy had brought sketches of her original vision, one based on the other Elite sites around the country. But considering this was an island that commanded an aura of mystery and respect, I suggested she veer off the expected course.

Elite was normally a glittery club that celebrities wanted to come to—people could see and be seen or request private space that normally consisted of a roped-off table or raised dais area where they could look out around the club—or have others see them and wonder just who they were. The island, on the other hand, was a place more for solitude and fantasy. I’d certainly gotten mine—Gabe luring me here, wanting me back, and giving me my dream job. I thought people who came to Eden would want something
more
for their private club.

I agreed that the main bar area should have the expected Elite feel, but I also suggested separate theme rooms that could be modified for different fantasies. Lucy loved the concept, and soon we were tossing around ideas that had us giggling and even squirming a bit when the Master stopped by and casually mentioned guests requesting BDSM-themed dungeons.

After taking notes, Lucy finally closed her portfolio and met my gaze. “Go find my brother, or he’ll kill me for not giving him his final time with you here.”

I smiled. “Thank you for everything. I know including me in this project was a favor, and I won’t let you down.” I rose to my feet.

“You aren’t. You haven’t. Your ideas are awesome.”

Excitement and a sense of purpose filled me. I picked up my bag, figuring I could run up to the room and see if Gabe and I could have some alone time before we had to leave the island. I turned to go.

“Iz—” Lucy had adopted Gabe’s nickname for me.

I liked it. It made me feel like I had made a real friend, and I hoped she felt the same way. I turned back around. “What’s up?” I asked.

“He’d kill me for talking about him again, but I need you to know, you changed him.”

I narrowed my gaze.

“It’s like he was walking around in this fog, dating women he couldn’t possibly fall for, running the business, worrying about me … but never taking anything for himself. I worried he’d always be alone.”

I swallowed hard, knowing what that was like and hating it for Gabe. Remembering the
other
room in his apartment, I knew Lucy was right. That was the exact path down which he’d been headed.

It was a path I knew too well. “I was the same way,” I admitted to the other woman.

“Maybe you two saw that in each other. I don’t know. But I do know you’ve changed him. He’s more open and … vulnerable, not that he’d admit such a thing. But it’s good. And it’s thanks to you.” Lucy stood and pulled me into a warm hug. “I like you, Iz.”

Tears threatened. Other than Lisa, this was the first woman I’d felt a kinship with in years. “I like you too.”

I didn’t know what the future held for Gabe and me. It was too soon, things too fragile. But if I’d helped open him up and his sister noticed, that had to be a good thing.

Unfortunately, when I reached the room, Gabe was on a conference call with one of the managers at the New York hotel. He shot me a regretful look but did pull me into his lap while he spoke. He wrapped a solid arm around me and stroked my hair, all the while giving specific orders to the man at the other end.

I laid my head against his chest and thought about our time here. I now knew his favorite meals, what kind of fruit he liked—melons—and the kind he hated—pineapple. I’d learned he had had loving parents, which explained why I liked him and his siblings so very much. They’d done a great job. And I was sad they’d lost their mom and dad and wished I could have met them too.

And when Gabe ended the call, he immediately stripped off my pants, yanked his down, and soon I was easing myself onto him, taking him into my body the way he was already deep inside my heart.

Because I loved him, I thought, rocking myself against him, taking us both up and over quickly. I loved him, and I was sure this time.

Yes, it was fast.

Yes, it was furious.

And no, I didn’t care.

*     *     *

Isabelle: Home

The trip home was a lot less frightening with Gabe and Lucy by my side. Even the small plane didn’t scare me. I’d been gone for the long weekend, though it felt like much longer. Everything had shifted once again, only this time I felt much more in control.

Until we landed in New York.

No sooner had we exited the doors, following the driver who waited for us, than we were greeted by flashing cameras and people shouting questions.

“Mr. Dare! Is it true you’re opening another club, this one on Eden?”

“Gabriel, did you see the Master of the island?”

“Who’s the woman with you?” another one shouted.

I glanced up, taking in Gabe’s unhappy scowl. “No comment.”

I shivered, unused to being in the spotlight, and Gabe pulled me along, squeezing my hand tighter. He strode forward, but the vultures kept pace along with him.

“Who the hell alerted them?” he asked.

“It’s good press for the clubs,” Lucy said.

He didn’t break stride until the driver stopped at the limo and opened the door for us to climb in.

Gabe waited until we were enclosed inside before he turned to his sister. “What the hell, Luce? Since when do I want to be ambushed?” he asked in a dangerous tone.

She merely shrugged. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Gabe. The club on Eden will be unlike any we’ve built before. I knew reporters would kill to have any tidbit of information, so I leaked the news that we’d be landing after a business trip. Relax and let me do my job.”

He treated her to another scowl, then pulled me closer and stared out the window, his mood clearly soured. The car sped into Manhattan, and I stared out the window, wondering how things would change now that we were back in New York.

Since Lucy shared Gabe’s apartment when she was in town, I expected the car to drop me at my place first. Instead, the limo headed farther uptown.

I cleared my throat. “Gabe, my apartment is downtown.”

Lucy snickered.

Gabe inclined his head. “I’m aware of where you live, Isabelle. Tell me, did you plan to go home alone?” He leaned closer, his lips treacherously close to my ear. “After all we shared, can you really sleep by yourself?”

His deep voice rumbled inside me, and I shivered at the warm breath of air across my skin, my body automatically reacting, my girl parts perking up.

“You’re coming home with me,” he said, as the car came to a halt in front of his building.

And that’s how I moved in with Gabe. Lucy remained in the limo, having conveniently decided to stay with Decklan so she could have time with her other brother before returning to L.A. I knew Gabe well enough by now to know he’d sent her away so we could be alone.

I didn’t feel too bad. Lucy was a woman with her own mind. If she wanted to stay, not even Gabe could drive her away.

I reentered Gabe’s apartment, and to my surprise, though I’d only stayed there for a few days, I felt as if I’d returned home. It helped that the place smelled like Gabe, warm musk and all man, wrapping me in his strength. He paused in the kitchen, and out of habit, if I could form a habit in such a short time, I turned into my old room. At which point I found myself picked up and hauled over Gabe’s shoulder and dumped on his big bed.

This time, it was all I could do not to laugh at his ridiculous overreaction. I sat up and scooted back against the pillows as he strode to the closets and began opening doors. “Your own closet. With all your clothes.”

He gestured to the inside of a mini-room where familiar-looking clothes hung on matching hangers before moving across the room to a larger dresser and opening one drawer after another. “Personal items.” He strode to the nightstand on the right side of the bed. “Your books and things. Want to see the bathroom next?”

I shook my head, mute. I couldn’t think of a thing to say until the reality of how all this had occurred set in. “You sent someone into my apartment and moved out all of my things?”

He met my gaze, his unflinching, but I saw the stiff set of his shoulders, the near certainty I was about to flip out – and probably bolt.

“I moved you where you belong,” he said tightly. “And before you give me a hard time, you should know that there’s been no other woman in this bedroom. Ever.”