Tainted Love (Book 1) (14 page)

“
It’s called
Her Impassioned Plea.
” A tall, handsome dark-haired man in khaki pants and a white untucked linen shirt with brown stitching approaches me, echoing my sentiment.

Did I mention he is handsome? His smoky blue eyes spell trouble, but I manage
to turn my attention back to the painting, as intriguing as he is.

“I love it. I can feel the woman’
s emotion. The pitiful, degrading action of dropping to her knees and groveling is a powerful force in the painting. Especially with her head down almost touching the ground and her tears hitting the floor…the painting just comes to life. Looking at it, you just want to weave a story about it,” I gush.

“
Wow,” he says, seemingly struck by my elaboration. “Are you an artist?”

“
Me? God, no,” I snort, still entranced by the painting. “Did you paint this?”

“Oh
, no. I’m only the dealer. This was done by an Italian painter, Paolo Rodini.”

“Do you have more pieces from him?”

“No, this is my only piece. A rare piece, like the rare beauty admiring it.” He takes my hand to his lips, kissing it and I feel the tingle in my groin.
Whoa.

That’s when I feel it.

The hairs on my body stand. My ears perk up with awareness as I feel Ben’s shadow looming over me. I quickly withdraw my hand from the man’s grasp. Looking up at Ben, the man smiles ruefully.

“Hayes,” he says tightly, masking a smile.

“Hayes,” Ben retorts with a smile.
What?

My mouth falls open, confused at the exchange between the two men who have the same last name.

“Sullivan, meet my younger brother, Matt Hayes.”

I gasp and look at Ben with disgust. “You’re trying to take over your brother’s business?”

“Is
that
what he told you, sweetheart?” Matt brings my attention back to him and continues, “It’s a ploy…to get you to have lunch with him. This place is an art studio with a garden restaurant. A hidden jewel from the hustle and bustle of the city. He practically begged me to close my doors during the lunch hours so he could treat you. In my estimation, big bro here must’ve fucked up pretty good to want me to do that.”

I turn a timid gaze back to Ben who is scowling at his brother. He must’ve felt me watching him as he lowers his eyes to me, immediately warming with a god-forsaken, heart-stopping smile that makes me squeeze my legs toge
ther to stop the ache between them.

We stare at each other for a moment, drinking each other in. I am speechless. A grand gesture, just to apologize to me.
Wow.

“If you two lovely kids would stop ogling each other and pretend
ing that I’m not in the room, please follow me,” Matt interrupts, breaking our gazes.

We both clear our throats,
trying to bring ourselves forcibly back to the present, and follow Matt outside onto a smooth rock floor walkway. Bamboo trees are on either side and they stalk over us creating a bamboo ceiling. The sun peers through the leaves, lighting parts of the walkway romantically. Ahead of us is a hut-like building with a wooden sign that reads
Garden Oasis
. It is simply awe-inspiring.

Ben clasps my hand and runs his thumb smoothly over the knuckles. My heart swells and a knot forms in my throat, constricting my breathing. All of a sudden, my flight instincts kick in. This feels just too good to be true; too good to indulge in. My insecurities flash across my mind:
What does he see in you? You’re nothing but a high-priced whore. If he knew your past he wouldn’t be here with you; he’d run as fast as he could.

My movements slow. Tears spring to my eyes and I start shaking. I am having a panic attack. My dark tan skin reddens and I start gasping for air. I haven’t had a panic attack since I first heard of Jared’s death.

Ben pulls me to him and lulls me; his even steady breathing commanding me to calm down.

“Shh,” he quiets. “You’re having a panic attack. Shh.” His voice is so soothing against my ear. He brushes my hair lightly with one hand while the hand he has on the small of my back provides me some much needed balance as I sink into him.

Just like that, I am calm again. This is what scares me. It is like he knows me. He knows how my body works. What stroke will make me come; when I am hot for him; what will calm me down. And my body responds all too well to him, like he owns my body and holds it under subjection in every way. I never give anyone the gratification of owning me body, mind and soul. Yet, it seems that he does. He owns me whether I want to admit it –
accept it
– or not, and I pray he never knows the power he has over me.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

“Closed space,” I lie. I can’t let him know what is causing my panic attack.

He doesn’t seem to believe me anyway. He looks at me, his eyes searching mine, but gives up when I don’t reveal anything else.
Thank God
.

The resta
urant brings a further tranquility to my panicked soul. The hut that I saw on the outside was simply an entrance into the outdoor space the restaurant occupies. The space is shaded in supple green Lacebark elm trees and willow oaks. Each seating area has a wooden canopy – I imagine for warding off unwanted bird poop. The white wood seats sit neatly in front of shiny black wood tables that are decorated with candles in crystal holders. The birds that chirp around us make me feel as though I am in another world – a romantic version of Narnia maybe.

Matt seats us in the cent
er of the garden restaurant.

“This place is beautiful, Matt,” I enthuse, gazing at my surroundings and feeling utter peace.

“Coming from you, I’m flattered…since you are beauty personified,” he flatters, bowing before me. “Grecian goddess.”

I blush shamefully. He has the same charm as his brother
does but he is laying it on a little thick.

“I know you see me sitting here, Matt,” Ben finally speaks up giving him an amused raised eyebrow.

“Just saying what needed to be said, since you won’t say it, bro.”

“Go fetch our lunches before I have to call mom and tell her that you’re being an ass,” Ben orders.

“And I’ll tell mom that you’re threatening me again,” he shoots. “I can hear her now: ‘Benjamin, you know you shouldn’t be threatening your brother. It messes with his confidence’,” Matt mimics.

“A pity she doesn’t know that you have the confidence of
the Greek God, Apollo himself. You’ve got her so tight around your finger.”

“Like you don’t? Let’s face it: we’re the apple of our mom’s eyes. No wonder dad kicked us out.” Matt laughs wildly at his comment, causing Ben to do the same.

“Dude, he wanted to finally have mom’s attention,” Ben hoots then stops immediately when he sees me smiling at him. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” I don’t feel awkward that he and his brother are having this brotherly moment. It is actually very sweet to witness. “But I am hungry though.” I purse my lips
and dart my eyes around, trying not to smile.

Matt’s
eyes light up and perfect white teeth come into view as he flashes me an alluring smile.

“And she has a sense of humor. Have you ever thought about dating brothers, angel?” Matt jokes.

“Oh, we’re not –”

Ben shoots me a look that stuffs the rest of my sentence down my throat.

“Please stop trying to steal her away from me, Matt. Don’t you have a Svetlana, Anya…” Ben trails off.

“Katja,” Matt finishes Ben’s sentence.

“Ah, Katja. Aren’t you dating her this week?”

“Hey, I can always fit an even more beautiful woman into my repertoire,” he says staring at me. I flush. He continues, “But, alas,” he says with a faraway look. “I see she’s gotten away. I’ll go fetch your meals. I shall be your waiter for today.” Matt bows then leaves us.

“He wants to fuck you,” Ben acknowledges.

“And you don’t?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I recoil under his horrid stare, with his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

His chest deflates upon exhaling then he states, “That’s not all I want. You know I want more Sullivan, but that’s not what you want. So, I’ll take what I can get.”

“Then why’d you say what you said last night?” The hurt of his words popping unbidden in my head.

He sighs. “I thought we dealt with this in the car?”

“It doesn’t stop it from still hurting, though,” I snap.

He exhales exhaustively as though worn. I am being unfair. I wince at my behavior.

“I’m being a bitch.” I am contrite. It is unfair for me to keep bringing it up
when he has already apologized.

I choose to change the subject, “All this…” I gesture around the restaurant. “All this you did to apologize to me. What is with you and trickery, Mr. Hayes?”

He exhales, thankful for the change in topic. “Conventional methods don’t work with you, Sullivan.” He waves off the comment like it is no big deal to him.

“Have you
tried
any conventional methods with me?” After his contemplative silence, I speak, “I thought not.”

“So you don’t like all of this?”

“I love it, Ben. I love that you’re trying to get my attention with these grand romantic gestures that you once said you had no time for,” I say, calling to mind our first conversation in the ladies’ bathroom at his company’s Christmas party.

“I want more than your attention
, Sullivan,” he grumbles, closing his eyes. When he opens them, his eyes become a deep green. I freeze and watch him crawl inside me with his penetrating gaze.

If not for the interruption of Matt, I’d have told him that I wanted the same thing. I blow out the breath I’d been holding and Matt stares down at me, a twinkling mischief in his eyes.

“You can blow–”

“Don’t even think about saying it, Mapollo,” Ben warns.
Did I miss something?

“Don’t call me that, Benji,” Matt
snaps as he rests our meals on the table.

I snicker at Ben’s nickname. Isn’t that the name of some dog in a movie? “Mapollo and Benji?” I laugh.

All eyes are on me as I shut my mouth and look everywhere but at the two brothers.

“Matthew Apollo Hayes, Mapollo,” Matt explains, gesturing to himself. “And of course, Benji is short for Benjamin.”

“Like you’re one to laugh about names,” Ben challenges. “What kind of first name is Sullivan?”

My alias actually.
“It’s a unique name for an equally unique girl,” I respond.

“Touché.” Ben lifts his empty wine glass to me, smiling.

“I’ll leave you two lovely kids to enjoy your meal. Before you is beer battered tilapia and grilled asparagus stalks coated in a warm Hollandaise sauce with a side order of garden salad. Your bottle of Shiraz will be brought to you in short order. Please, do enjoy.” Matt pivots, leaving us once again.

“I hope you don’t mind me ordering ahead?” Ben says.

“No, that’s fine. It all looks delicious,” I observe, eager to taste the fish.

Another man enters and pours the red wine in both our glasses. Leaving, he rests the bottle on the table for us.

“By the way, I love your name,” he commends. The compliment gives me flutters, despite it all being a lie.

He
stares at me with adoration, a look that makes me very nervous.

“Thank you.”

Knife and fork in hand, I cut into the meal before me.

“Well…?” Ben asks, brows rising, as I take my first bite of the tilapia.

I moan in appreciation, tilting my head back and chewing.

“That’s a very sensual sound Sullivan.” His voice is deeper and his eyes hooded. “You’re making me hard.”

I swallow, painfully, taking a quick gulp of wine. My core clenches at the sound of his voice so filled with lust. I free one foot from my sandals then, extending it, I start rubbing my toes over his hardening length. He grips his utensils tighter, and I see him fighting the urge to tear across the table and devour me. I continue eating in mock innocence.

“You don’t play fair,” he groans.

“Neither do you, Mr. Hayes. Eat up before you starve to death.”

He eases into my probing toes, biting his bottom lip in conjunction with my touch. Taking a swig of his wine, he finally settles down to eat, rocking every so often into my foot.

“Don’t get mad,” I advise, taking a sip of wine. He tenses, but I continue, “We need to work this arrangement out thoroughly. We need to know the rules, the expectations, fine tune things so that what happened last night doesn’t happen again.”

His face hardens, but he relents,
“I agree. I’m assuming you’ve had this kind of relationship before?” Ben takes a cautious sip of wine, not breaking eye contact with me.

I clear my throat and respond, hoping it doesn’t cause an argument, “Yes I have and I won’t get into the details of those relationships with you.”