Lured In (Dark Paradise, #1) (10 page)

I started moving my hips in rhythm with the back of his palm.

“You like that, don’t you, baby?”

I nodded my head and continued gyrating my hips in rhythm with the back of his palm. He moved his hand away from my throbbing pussy and scowled at me.

“You like what I was doing to you, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. I mean, yes.”

“Good girl.”

He put his palm back on my hungry pussy and continued the assault. He increased the speed of the movements and inserted his middle finger into my wet folds.

“Oh, baby. You are so wet, so hot, so tight,” Zach said, kissing me deeply.

Moving his finger skillfully inside me, touching and caressing places that made my body scream, he worked his palm simultaneously. My breath quickened, and my moans grew stronger and longer. When I was very close to cumming, he pulled away.

“Why did you stop?” I asked him, disappointed and panting like crazy.

“I need to eat.”

“Mmm…that skillful tongue of yours …” He shook his head and laughed in amusement. “No, baby, not you. Food. Come on, let’s go downstairs and find something to eat.”

I lay there in complete disbelief.

Son of a bitch! No, you didn’t. You knew I was close, and you just leave me hanging like this. How dare you? I should smack that smirk off your face. What a cruel bastard.

“Come on, babe. I’m starving,” he said.

“I don’t have any food,” I said petulantly.

“OK. We’ll order delivery then.”

I eventually got up. I slipped on the short silk peach robe that I’d had on earlier. Zach got up, pulled the condom off, trashed it, and stepped into his cargo shorts. He pocketed some of the condoms. That was a good sign, but I only raised an eyebrow and exited the bedroom, leaving him to follow.

As we headed downstairs, Zach asked, “What are we going to eat?”

I opened my refrigerator to see what I could prepare, and he was quick to step behind me and check for himself.

“Spaghetti?” I asked.

“Spaghetti is fine.”

I pulled out some ground chicken, ground spicy Italian sausage, onions, garlic, and a box of linguine fini. I instructed Zach to start boiling water.

“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Winterfield,” he said cheerfully.

“I’ll be back,” I said, leaving him in the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to get the rest of the ingredients from the garden.”

“Garden?”

“It’s on the terrace,” I said.

I had put a small garden on the third level and planted whatever DC’s climate would permit. I had tomatoes, green peppers, hot peppers, onions, garlic, several herbs, a small orange tree, strawberries, grapes, potatoes, carrots, some green leafy veggies, and pineapples.

I picked some green peppers, tomatoes, parsley, and oregano. Zach came up to lend a hand.

“Beautiful, Abi. It’s very beautiful what you did up here. The entire three levels look stunning,” he said, looking around.

“Thank you.”

He lifted my chin, kissed my lips softly, and fixed his eyes on mine. I returned his seductive gaze and locked lips with him. I put my arms under his and caressed his bare back with both hands. He removed his left hand from my chin and started fondling my ass through my silk robe, then my bare ass itself. He gave it a few loving slaps, followed by gentle squeezes. He reached further and felt my wet folds.

“I’m going to fuck this tight, wet pussy on all three levels of this terrace and make you cry out my name.”

“How many times will I have to come close to an orgasm before you actually allow me to cry out your name?” I countered, still mad from his teasing. “And why would you want to give me ‘pink balls’ anyway?”

“Pink balls?” he asked with narrowed brows.

“Yes, pink balls,” I said. You know…female blue balls.”

He laughed boisterously. “Pink balls…how cute, babe.”

“Oh, you think it’s funny, huh? You bring me very close to an orgasm then stop. That shit is both agonizing and frustrating. You wouldn’t like it if I dick-teased you,” I said.

“I trust you’re still upset that you didn’t get a chance to cum and swallow my finger with your pussy?” he asked.

“I guess I am,” I replied as we headed back down to the kitchen. He had that same smirk on his face. I looked at him with my eyes narrowed in annoyance.

We returned to the kitchen to wash the herbs and vegetables.

Zach asked, “Did you know that the owner of this building lives in a penthouse unit that is five thousand square feet smaller than yours?”

“No. I didn’t know that. I didn’t even know the owner lived in this building. And how do you know so much about this building and its owner?”

“I told you I am very resourceful.”

“How did you manage to get the CEO position?” I asked.

“Which one?” he replied with raised eyebrows.

“First Choice Health and Wellness, Inc. What other position do you think I’m talking about?”

“Abi, I—” He was interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

“What is it, Stan?” he answered.

How rude. You’re supposed to say hello. Or ‘Zach here.’ Or ‘Hi, Stan.’ Not ‘What is it?’ I bet you’re so damn controlling all the time.

“What?” Zach, obviously agitated, yelled into the phone, looking back at me. “How long?” He closed his eyes. “Do you know if he …” He looked at me again, this time with fear in his eyes. Breaking my gaze, he walked out onto the terrace, closing the door behind him.

Red flag! What the hell was that about? Why did he feel the need to go out on the terrace to finish his conversation? What is he into?

By the time Zach came back in, I had already cut the ingredients and put the linguine in the boiling water. He wrapped his arm around my waist tightly and kissed the back of my neck.

“What’s the matter?” I asked him.

His mood had obviously taken a turn for the worse since the phone call, and his tight grip on my waist implied it was serious. I turned around to face him, noting that he was pale as hell. I cradled his face in my hands.

“Zach, what is it?” I asked again.

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head with his eyes closed.

“Nothing? Bull. Don’t tell me it’s nothing when you’re standing here pale and barely breathing. Your eyes are filled with fear. So what is it?”

“I promise I will tell you when I get the full details. Deal?”

“No! Tell me the details you know now.” He looked at me with his eyebrows drawn in in a look of surprise.

Am I the first person to ever tell him no?

“Please, Abi. We need to drop it.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. And we are not going to bring it up again until I have details.”

“Is it about Taylor? Does she have a secret child and it is yours? Is that the real reason why she came to see you?”

What the fuck am I doing? I’m questioning this man like he is my man. It was just sex…great, amazing sex at that. Why the hell am I mad? Why the hell did I give in to this man so soon after I met him?

“Would you put the onions and garlic in the olive oil and butter already? And stir the pasta,” he said, changing the subject. Picking up a fork from the counter, he began to stir the pasta. I snatched the fork from him and stirred the pasta myself.

He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist again. “It’s not about her. I don’t have a child with her or any other woman—”

“That you know of.” I cut him off. “Just so you know, it doesn’t matter if you do. I have a daughter from a previous relationship,” I added.

“It was about my past. The man who was once my stepfather. And that’s all I’m going to tell you, right now. OK?”

What the hell happened? What’s going on?

I nodded and continued to stir the food. He turned me to face him, and I could still see a glimpse of fear in his eyes. I kissed him and decided to drop it for now.

I made plates, and Zach poured drinks. I placed Zach’s plate opposite mine, and he took his seat at the table.

“Toast?” he asked.

I held up my glass of red wine. He smiled. “To white flags and happiness.”

I watched him as he took the first bite of my cooking. He closed his eyes, shook his head slowly, and licked the corners of his mouth. I ate from my plate and agreed that it was delicious. As if I didn’t know. He took a sip of his wine and smiled.

“Damn, Abi. This should be on the menu at my lounge.”

I nearly choked on my food.
Did he just say
his
lounge?

“Did you just say
your
lounge?”

“Abi. Um …” He looked at me and opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. He ate from his plate again, guzzled the rest of his wine, and finally said, “Sens.”

“Sins what?” I asked.

“It’s mine,” he replied, looking at me intensely.

“We all have sins. What sins have you committed?”

He laughed and smiled at me and then asked me to think about last night at the lounge.

“Oh! Sens.”

“Abi. I was going to tell you, but—”

“It’s fine, Zach,” I said, cutting him off.

“No. Let me explain.”

“No worries. Eat up,” I ordered. I looked at him and asked, “How much?”

“How much what?”

“Are you willing to spend to get your hands on my recipe?”

He sat back in his chair in relief and sighed before pouring us each another glass of wine.

Son of a bitch owns the lounge. Now everything makes sense: the doorman pulling us from the back of the line; the waitress, that bitch, with her stank-ass attitude toward me, knowing what he likes; Zach demanding her to make my drink the way I wanted it and demanding that the chef do the same with my meal, even though they didn’t have it. OK, Mr. McConnallay. Who are you? You aren’t just my CEO, are you? Who the hell did I fuck? Or better yet, who did I let fuck my brains out?

Zach moved his chair beside mine, put his hands over mine, and said, “I would like it very much if we can continue what we started. I still owe you an orgasm.” He placed his left middle finger on my lips, pacifying me once again.

Fuck! He’s doing it again. Why would you tease me like that? You play dirty. The left middle finger? Dude, you have got to cut that shit out. You are appeasing me again, as well. Look, I’m trying to figure you out here.

“Stop trying to overanalyze things, Abigail. Your head must be running a million miles per hour. And come to think of it, why the hell did you leave two hundred dollars on the table last night?” He pulled the same two hundred-dollar bills out of his pocket and threw them on the table.

I dropped my bottom lip and gasped, as I didn’t expect for him to be so upset about me paying for my meal. He looked so damn sexy being upset over something like that. I bit my lip and kept my eyes on him.

“I told you about staring at me and biting down on your bottom lip like that. You know what happens when you do that.”

“Who are you, Zach?” I asked, not expecting anything different from what he’d already told me. I just needed him to stop trying to placate me.

“I’m Zach Austin McConnallay, owner and CEO of ZAM Enterprises and owner and CEO of McConnallay Enterprises. ZAM Enterprises is my baby, and McConnallay Enterprises is family owned and operated. It belongs to my grandfather, my dad, my brother, and me.”

I was at a loss for words.

How do I counter that? ZAM as in the boutique store? The clothes I wear? Oh my God…he did stalk me.

“You own the boutique store?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s how you got my information? From the customer registration form I completed a few months back—it’s in your computer database.”

“Yes.”

“Then you are a stalker. How long—”

“I’m not a stalker, Abigail.”

“How long did you stalk me before you convinced Carmen to bring me out to your lounge?”

“Thursday was the first time I ever laid eyes on you. And it was the best day of my life. After you paid for your items and swiped your customer card, I went and asked Cheryl, the cashier, to print me your customer bio. And Carmen, well, she looked familiar to me. And when she came over and told me her name, I recognized her from the pictures in Matt’s office.”

We continued eating and talked about him invading my privacy, Sens, ZAM, and McConnallay Enterprises.

“Are you done eating? I would like to wash dishes now,” I said as I got up from the table. I needed time to process what we had talked about. I wasn’t necessarily mad, though I should have been, but I was definitely taken aback a little.

He stood up with the dishes, and I didn’t turn down his silent offer to help.

“What about all of the extra food on the stove?” he asked.

“I usually take some to Carmen and Megan and give some to the building staff on duty. There are some takeout trays and forks over there.” He helped me pack them.

Everything started to make sense again.

“Zach?” I called out.

He turned to me and answered, “Yes, baby?”

Yes, baby? Whatever.

“Correct me if I’m wrong. You knew Carmen from the pics in Matt’s office, and you noticed our close friendship when we were shopping. So when you realized that Matt was somehow connected to me, you called him that same night to work on the merger. How soon after I had left your boutique store did you start investigating me and found out that my dad and stepdad were the owners of Capitol Health? Why did you grip my hand so hard when my dad asked Matt if he and I were friends with benefits?”

Zach grabbed my wrist and asked, “Can we have a seat to talk about this?”

We sat facing each other, and he said, “You are absolutely correct. After you and Carmen walked away, I got on my phone and called Stan—he’s the chief of security and IT at McConnallay Enterprises. I gave him your information and demanded that he get me everything available on you in two hours. Your dad’s and stepdad’s information was included. I called your dad, introduced myself, and told him about Health Choice and the service we offered. He was interested and said that he would call your stepdad to see if he was interested in meeting that night as well. I met both of them and proposed a merger, to which they both agreed. And the rest is history. As for your hand, I don’t know why I gripped it so tightly in the conference room. I’m sorry about that. I guess I wasn’t thinking about the fact that you and Carmen are practically sisters. But hearing your dad asking Matt if you two were friends with benefits made me lose all of my common sense.”