Rebellion (A Dangerous Man, #2)

Rebellion

A
Dangerous Man #2

Serena
Grey

This book is a work
of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination, and have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is purely coincidental.

REBELLION: A
DANGEROUS MAN #2

Copyright © 2013 by
Serena Grey.

All rights reserved.

Raven
§
Press

Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

About The Author

Teaser

––––––––

For MNC

You I love, always.

Beta readers, ARC
reviewers, Book bloggers... not necessarily in that order,

Terri Thomas at
mybookboyfriend.blogspot.com
for
her tremendous insight,

And all the lovely
readers who took a chance on a new author,

Thank you, Thank you,
and Thank you.

T
HE JOURNEY TO SEATTLE IS SILENT.
Steve, the chauffeur, keeps his eyes on the road, and David, my husband - I
still can’t believe he’s my husband - studies some papers on his lap, totally
ignoring me.

I can’t stop looking at his face in profile, his straight
nose, firm jaw and thick, wavy hair. He really is perfect, I think, captivated.

It’s still hard to believe that this man, who I only met
three days ago, is my husband, and that I am leaving the life I have always
known to go with him to his home, his city, his life, of which I know nothing.
I don’t care though, I feel as if I’ve been trapped in a box for years, and he
has shown me what it means to fly.

Between his reading and the brief, authoritative phone calls
he’s made, he hasn’t looked at me at all. It’s unfair, especially since I can’t
take my eyes off him. I don’t understand how he can make such wonderful love to
me, tease me until I’m blushing, and in the next moment, act as if I don’t even
exist.

Feeling suddenly insecure, I look away from him. I can
almost hear Aunt Josephine’s voice, telling me how foolish I am. ‘Have you
stopped to ask yourself why a man like him would marry a girl like you? Don’t
you think he has an ulterior motive?’ 

I push the doubting thoughts away. What ulterior motive
could he possibly have? I’m neither rich nor successful, nor exceptionally
beautiful. In fact, I was the one who begged him not to leave me.

Turning back to look at him, I see that he’s still engrossed
in his reading. As I watch his strong fingers flip through his papers, my mind
drifts to last night, our wedding night, and I feel my skin heat up. Last
night, I was the one he was engrossed in.

After the short ceremony, we all went back to the hotel
where he was staying for drinks and dinner. Halfway through dinner, which I was
too tense to eat, he suddenly stood up, and announced to our few guests that he
was retiring for the night with his new wife.

The look in his eyes had filled me with such want that I
almost couldn’t stand. The next thing I knew, he picked me up and carried me out
of the restaurant and into the elevator, amidst self-conscious cheers from our
guests.

We were alone in the elevator, and as soon as the doors
closed, he claimed my lips, his tongue delving hungrily in my mouth. His hands
found their way under my dress and started to knead me gently through my new
lace panties. I was whimpering with pleasure by the time we reached his floor.

Then he lifted me again and carried me to his room. Someone,
probably his assistant, Linda, had arranged for wine in an ice bucket, and
strawberries. He ignored those. He dropped me, barely able to stand, at the
foot of the bed and pulled down the zipper of my dress, pulling it off my
shoulder along with the straps of my bra.

When my breasts were free, he covered them with his hands. I
moaned softly as he massaged them gently, arousing me until I fell against him,
and he had to guide me unto the bed.

He pulled my dress up around my waist and pushed my panties
aside, then his tongue was between my legs, and I was moaning and whimpering,
my fingers clutching his hair. In only a few moments, my body was pulsing
uncontrollably, shattering around his mouth. Then he stopped suddenly. While I
was still wondering why, he pulled down his pants and in the next moment, he
had filled me completely.

I came immediately, crying out as the warm sweetness shattered
my body into a million pieces, then as he continued to move, I felt the
pleasure build up again, heat starting up in my core and spreading until even
my fingertips were filled with pleasure. I screamed my release the same moment
as he groaned loudly and collapsed on top of me.

Then I said it. I love you.

And he didn’t say anything.

~§~§~§~§~

The pleasure of my memories fades into a faint heartache. No
matter how I think about it, I can’t find a way to convince myself that I
shouldn’t be worried about his silence after I said those words.

How does he feel about me?

I have no answer to my question. It’s scary, especially
because my own feelings have taken over every part of me. It’s as if I’ve
stepped off the edge of a cliff, and even though my heart’s in my mouth and my
stomach is in knots, I’m the most excited I’ve ever been in my life. I’m
totally enthralled by him. I want him, every part of him, and I desperately
want him to feel the same way about me.

“If you keep staring at me like that I’m going to think
you’re having second thoughts already.” His deep voice cuts into my thoughts. He
is looking at me, his blue eyes probing into mine, and his perfect lips curved
into a faint smile.

I stare helplessly at him for a moment, my skin flushing. He
is so insanely beautiful to look at. Will I ever get used to being around all
that perfection? It doesn’t seem likely. Right now, he looks enticing,
dangerous, and incredibly sexy. His snowy white shirt is open at the collar,
exposing the strong column of his throat. His dark hair curls softly into the
back of his collar, making me want to run my fingers through it, and his dark
blue pants stretch over the long length of his legs. Just from looking at him, my
fingers are itching to touch him. I want him so much. I don’t think I’ll ever
stop wanting him.

“I’m not having second thoughts.” I deny softly. Second
thoughts are the farthest thing from my mind. I just wish I knew how he felt
about me. If I did, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so out of my depth. Next to his
perfection, his obvious wealth, his incredibly good looks, I can’t help feeling
extremely ordinary.

His eyes linger on my face for a moment, as if he’s reading
my thoughts in my expression. He puts a hand on my thigh and strokes it lightly,
in a gesture that should be reassuring but only fills my mind with images of
the things those hands have done to me.

“Don’t worry,” He says, turning back to his work, his hand
still on my thigh. He sounds relaxed, his voice faintly teasing. “I promise I
don’t have a firing squad waiting for you.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” I reply with a
self-conscious laugh.

“Then what are you so afraid of? An underground torture
chamber?”

“No.” I protest. “Of course not, I was just thinking that I
know so little about you.”

He chuckles as he turns back to me, and one of his eyebrows
rises just a little higher than the other. “Really,” His eyes dip to my lips, and
stay there for a second before rising back to my eyes, with a teasing and unmistakably
sensual look. “I would say you know a lot about me, Sophie.”

I don’t miss his meaning, and I blush fiercely. We’ve spent
the last twenty-four hours more naked in bed than out of it. The memories are
enough to make my body clench with helpless desire. I cast an embarrassed
glance towards Steve, but he is totally occupied with driving, his eyes
straight ahead.

“I meant... about your life, your work...” I can’t stop
stammering. I look up at David in despair. Around him, I’ve obviously lost the
ability to be coherent.

He studies me as I trip over my tongue. “You’re charming.” He
says, amusement dancing on his lips. The compliment only makes me blush harder,
and I bend my face to hide my flaming cheeks. 

He puts a hand under my chin and lifts up my face, so I’m
looking at him. “Don’t hide your face when you blush,” His voice is soft and compelling.
“I like it.”

I nod helplessly. With his fingers under my chin and his
blue eyes doing things to my heart, it’s not as if I can refuse him anything.

I’m still thinking of what to say when he bends over to brush
his lips across mine in the lightest of kisses. I lean into it, as pleasure
flutters through my body. By the time he lifts his head, my whole body is
shaking with anticipation. I can’t believe how much I want him. Nobody told me
it would be like this. My body feels as if it’s in a permanent state of sexual
hunger.

“We’ll be home soon.” He says, his eyes dark with desire.
It’s as if he can read my mind and knows exactly what I want.

I can’t wait.

I
FALL ASLEEP SOON AFTER, LULLED by
the steady hum of the car engine. When I wake up, my head is resting on David’s
shoulder, and he is stroking my hair, his fingers gentle and soothing. I
realize that the car is no longer moving. I open my eyes and sit up, wondering
how long I’ve been asleep.

“I was beginning to think I would have to kiss you to get
you to wake up.” His hand leaves my hair. “You were very determined to use me
as a pillow.” He adds wryly. I wonder if he is teasing me, but I can’t tell
from his face.

I stretch self-consciously and smooth my hair. Steve is already
opening the door on my side, so I step out of the car, looking around to get a
feel of my surroundings.

We’re parked on a tree-lined street, in front of a towering
stone and glass apartment block. I have to crane my neck to try to see all of
it. The walls are cream stone, and the glass gleams blue in the sun. It’s
massive and yet elegantly beautiful.

Right in front of me, a pair of glass double doors stands under
a wide curved awning. As I take it in, David comes to my side, slipping his
hand around my waist with a touch that is both firm and proprietary. As always,
I immediately respond to the contact, my skin tingling where I can feel the
pressure of his fingers.

He starts to lead me inside. When we reach the entrance, a
doorman holds the door open.  

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Preston, Mr. Preston.” The man greets
me with a smile as David and I step inside the building. I look at him in surprise,
and smile back. “Good afternoon.” I reply, inexplicably pleased at being
addressed by my new name.

“Thank you Jimmy.” David’s voice is curt. He doesn’t pause. His
hand on my waist urges me forward, and I follow him into the spacious lobby.

I take a second to look around, taking in the magnificent
space. The floors are perfect gleaming marble, so well-polished that I can see
my reflection when I look down. The walls are richly detailed and paneled, and
the ceiling is at least two-storeys high, and adorned with a sparkling crystal
chandelier. Everything carries an air of unmistakable luxury.

I would stand and admire, but David’s hand at my waist is
firm and insistent, and I have no choice but to follow him. I turn a
questioning glance at him, wondering at his haste, but his face is impassive. I
assume he has no time to watch me appreciate the beauty that’s probably
commonplace to him.

The man at the front desk gives us a greeting too, also
calling me Mrs. Preston, and making me wonder if Linda has been passing a
picture of me around. We acknowledge him without stopping as David leads me further
towards the elevators. In only a matter of moments, we’ve crossed the lobby and
are in the private elevator that leads to his penthouse apartment.

As the doors close, he turns to me, and using his body, presses
me against the wall, pinning my arms at my sides. His face is only inches from
mine, and the desire in his eyes turns my bones to liquid. I swallow hard as my
body heats up from the close contact with his. Then his lips dip, and he claims
my senses in a scorching kiss.

I open my lips to him, hungry for him, and hungry for more.

“I’m going to make love to you until your voice is hoarse
from screaming my name.” He promises softly when we come up for air, making my
heart pound with excitement, his sudden passion erasing any doubts I have had
in the past hour. He kisses me again. “Your lips are so soft.” He whispers
huskily. He continues to kiss me, his lips tracing a path from the sensitive
spot below my ear, down to where the neckline of my blouse covers the top of my
breasts, which are heavy and aching with need. My breath starts to come in
short moans. I want him here, now.