Possession (18 page)

by Violetta Rand

Available from Loveswept

D
ECEMBER

A
SPEN,
C
OLORADO

On a normal day, Violet didn't believe in coincidence. Nothing happened at random. But meeting someone from Corpus Christi who lived a few miles from her childhood home at a party in Colorado qualified. Because she would never look twice at a guy clad in leather from head to toe, with MC patches on his back. Spilling a glass of champagne on him after she tripped over the edge of an area rug might have something to do with it, too.

“What the fuck?” He wiped the front of his jacket, then looked down at her, his frown slowly disappearing. “You okay?”

“I just wasted a glass of Don Perignon,” she complained. “But beyond that, fine.”

He grinned then, perfect white teeth and dimples distracted her. “I'm sure there's more where that came from.”

She shook her head. “It's not worth the cost.” She looked in the direction of the bar, set up in the living room of the Aspen mansion.

“If you're short on cash…” He reached inside his open jacket and pulled out a black wallet. “I'll buy you a drink.”

She shifted on her heels, laughing nervously. “I have money,” she said. “I meant it's not worth getting another glass if I have to talk to Ash.”

“The bartender?”

“No,” she answered. “My boss.”

His wide blue eyes were too expressive, and that face belonged on a fashion billboard in New York. His unshaven jaw and full lips were sexy as sin. And she couldn't remember ever feeling so small; he towered above her like some gladiator. “Violet Banderas.” She extended her hand.

He gave it a gentle shake. “Julian Kronos.”

“Sorry about your jacket.”

“I'll live.” He let go of her hand. “You live in Aspen?”

“Denver.”

“Great place,” he commented. “I have family there.”

“Not me,” she said. “I graduated from the University of Colorado last year and haven't returned home yet.”

“Where's home?”

“Texas.”

“Me, too.”

That got her attention. “You're from Texas?”

He turned around. “See the patch?”

She couldn't miss it; “Sons of Odin” was stitched in black thread on the top rocker. The logo patch in the center showed Thor's hammer on a sea of silver. The bottom rocker read “Texas Born.” She swallowed her apprehension, raised to avoid men like him. Hell, she'd been trained from a young age to set her standards high. To pursue the “in” crowd so she could get ahead in life. Every extra penny her parents made went into a college savings account for her. They'd sent her to a private high school and slaved away to pay for piano lessons and academic programs to prepare her for a better life. But one smile from Julian nearly made her forget.

“Nice hammer,” she teased.

He faced her again. “Be careful who you say that to.”

What was it about this guy that made her smile so easily? “Or what?”

A wolfish grin lit up his features this time. “Let's find out—
Violet
.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the bar.

The crowd of suits parted as he approached, and the bartender immediately stood at attention in front of him.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“A Jack and Coke, champagne for the lady.”

The drinks were quickly served. Julian offered her the crystal flute, then picked up his glass, gripped her gently by the elbow, and steered her to the back door of the house.

“Wait,” she said, trying to keep up with his ridiculously quick stride. “Where are we going?”

“To the hot tub.”

She stopped just outside the door. “Is this your home?”

He chuckled. “Belongs to my brother.”

“Oh.” That surprised her as much as her undeniable attraction to Julian. “He's very successful.”

“Imports and exports,” he said on a shrug. “It's cold. Let's get inside.” He gestured at a beautiful Japanese teahouse-style structure, all glass and wood with solar panels on the sloped roof.

They walked briskly down the short cobbled pathway; the frigid mountain air chilled her legs. Inches of snow covered the ground, and she cursed herself for letting her boss talk her into wearing something short and sexy. It would help secure a donation from the rich businessman who owned the house. But a silk minidress couldn't stand up against subzero temperatures, even for a half million dollars for the museum.

Once inside, Julian flipped a switch and dozens of soft lights came on. The hot tub gurgled invitingly; steam filled the lovely space.

“Don't be nervous,” he said. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

He pointed to a seating area, where six cushioned chairs were arranged around a wood burning fireplace. Someone had lit the fire already. She chose the seat closest to the hearth, and warmth slowly seeped back into her body.

“Are you here for the holiday?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “My mother and sister will join us tomorrow.”

He sat across from her, his gaze sweeping over her. “If you don't know my brother, what are you doing at his Christmas party?”

She set her champagne aside and crossed her legs. “Ash Singletary is the manager of exhibits and artifacts at the Denver Museum. Your brother has been a loyal patron. We're here to secure another donation.”

Julian laughed, took a long swig of his drink, set the near-empty glass on the side table, then steepled his fingers under his chin. “My brother has a soft spot for the arts. He believes enriching the lives of troubled kids might help set them on a path for success.”

“You sound skeptical.”

“I am,” he said without hesitation. “Men like your boss feed on my brother's generosity.”

Violet leaned forward. “But the kids…”

“There's other programs that keep them off the streets.”

“Like?”

“Denver Rescue Mission, StandUp for Kids, Big Brothers Big Sisters…”

“I can't disagree with that.”

“Is that why you're wearing that dress?”

“What?”

“Hoping my brother pulls out his checkbook while he gets an eyeful of your cleavage?”

“Screw you.” Violet jumped up.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he said, standing up. “I needed to make sure you were different.”

“By insulting me?”

“By testing you. Your boss spends half his time trying to get between your legs, and the other half scamming rich people.”

“I think you misunderstood me,” she said. “The Denver Museum is a prestigious institution.”

“I know, been there many times.”

“Generous donors like your brother make it possible for kids who can't afford to visit the museum to take field trips with after school programs.”

He rubbed his chin, then sat down again. “Why didn't you want to get another glass of champagne?”

Now her face flushed. “Ash wouldn't leave me alone.”

“So it's true.”

She nodded, reclaiming her chair. “He's a dirty bastard,” she said. “But I need my job.”

“My brother is a die-hard philanthropist. All the proceeds from tonight go to the Marine's Toys for Tots program in Texas.”

“That's why you're here?”

He nodded. “Every year.”

It seemed they'd both misjudged each other. “Why the MC?”

“I graduated college a few years ago and didn't have a clear plan. A friend invited me to a clubhouse party and I never left.”

“Seriously?”

“Traded the trust fund in for leather.”

The more he talked and the longer she stared at him, the clearer it became she wanted to fuck him. Nothing about Julian Kronos made sense. “Where did you go to school?”

“Boston College, I majored in International Studies with a disciplinary base in economics. My brother wanted me to go to work for him.”

“Did you?”

“For a few months. It didn't end well.”

“I'm sorry.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “What about you, Violet Banderas?”

“Art History.”

“Ah,” he said. “And did Van Gogh and Picasso satisfy your need to be surrounded by beauty?”

Smart-ass.
“I am a Libra.”

“I would have guessed Virgo or Libra.”

“Why?”

“Your personality matches the profile. And you're fucking gorgeous.”

A different kind of heat spiraled down her body, pooling between her thighs. She reached for her drink, sucking down the rest of the champagne. “I better get back inside.” She stood, ready to escape the magic of the teahouse and the man who kept staring at her like she was the last woman on earth.

“Fuck Ash,” he said, coming to her side. “Let him deal with my brother alone. We have better things to do.”

She gazed up at him, fear and excitement colliding in her chest. The man exuded the kind of confidence she only dreamed of possessing. As he stripped off his clothes, first his jacket, which he folded reverently and placed on the closest chair, then his sweater, boots and socks, then his pants, she couldn't move or look away. Standing in his boxer briefs, his perfectly tanned, muscled body screamed for kisses. And caresses. The kind she'd never given to a man.

“Better close that mouth or a butterfly might fly inside it.”

She snapped out of her daze, her eyes following his movements as he eased down the stairs that descended into the pool-sized Jacuzzi. “Butterflies?”

“Do you prefer ladybugs?”

She laughed, edging closer to the hot tub.

He moaned in pleasure. “Feels so good.”

Temptation.
“Is there room for me?”

He looked at her. “Want me to close my eyes while you get undressed?”

“No,” she said, reaching for the zipper on her back. Thank God she'd worn one of her best bra and panty sets tonight. Another coincidence she couldn't explain away. Her dress slid down her hips and pooled at her feet. She kicked off her black heels and looked down at her freshly painted toenails.

Julian didn't move from his relaxed position, but she could see the unadulterated hunger in his eyes. If they touched, she knew she'd explode, all that pent-up sexual energy she ignored while she put in sixty hours a week at work would come gushing out.

“Beautiful,” he said as she slid into the water.

Instead of sitting on one of the molded plastic seats, she went straight to Julian, hoping he'd embrace her. As she neared him, he rose from the water, his nipples as tight as hers, his bronzed skin gleaming in the underwater lights. Her wet dreams weren't this perfect. And when he tugged her into his arms, his mouth capturing her trembling lips, all that doubt she carried around inside dispersed like a puff of smoke in the wind. Lust infused her, and she locked her hands behind his neck, pulling him lower so she could kiss him more easily.

Then he swept her into his arms and settled on one of the seats with her in his lap. “Fuck,” he groaned, tasting her again. “You're incredible.”

His fingers pinched and teased her sensitive nipples through the lace of her bra. She squirmed and met his tongue with hers, hoping she hadn't been out of practice with kissing so long that she'd forgotten how to do it. But something told her he wouldn't give a shit, because Julian was all about control. He flipped her around, so she was sitting underneath him, then disappeared under the water, reemerging in front of her, her breasts in his palms, his face at eye level.

“I want to fuck you, Violet,” he said in a low, possessing voice. “Have since the moment I saw you.”

She closed her eyes and arched her neck. Like any seasoned predator, he took advantage, leaving a trail of skin-scorching kisses between her collarbone and the soft skin below her ear. Lust ignited inside her, and she reached between his legs, cradling his balls, admiring how hard and long his dick was.

“Let me put it inside you,” he whispered, covering her hand with his. “Squeeze me.”

She did.

He moaned, his penetrating eyes locked on hers. “Tell me I can fuck you.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Where?” he asked. “Here or my room?”

“Start here,” she choked out.

He nodded, then reached behind her and unfastened her bra. “I want to see them—need to taste them.”

Her bra floated away, and she lifted herself just enough so he could see her breasts.

He squeezed them together and buried his face between them, his fingers caressing her arms. Then he moved lower, his big hands finding her thighs. “Spread your legs, baby.”

He invaded her panties, finding her clit. She screamed his name, sinking lower in the water. A noise from outside the teahouse made her freeze. Her whole body tensed.

“What is it?” he looked up.

“I heard…”

“I'll lock the door and close the shutters. Okay?”

She nodded, that kernel of fear inside her growing by the second. She watched with fascination as he climbed out of the hot tub and went straight to the door, then made his way down the row of windows, slamming the wood shutters closed.

Something warned her he'd done this before—many times.

And when he joined her again, that willingness to sacrifice herself to a man she'd just met had nearly disappeared. He leaned in for a kiss and she pulled back.

“What is it, baby?”

“I-I can't do this.”

Disappointment contorted his handsome face. But she didn't care enough to stay. Violet scrambled to the steps, not looking back. She gathered her dress and shoes, leaving her bra behind as she dressed and fled the teahouse soaking wet and ashamed. How would she explain this to Ash?

Did it matter? She needed to dry off and get home before she changed her mind about Julian. The man had gotten under her skin too easily. As she chose a side door, hoping it was a shortcut to the cloak room where she'd left her jacket and purse, she ran into a group of women who stared disapprovingly as she rushed by. She found a bathroom, turned on the light, and slammed and locked the door behind her. Sanctuary came in many forms, and she'd never been so happy to find a closet full of fluffy towels.