She came down slowly and her head dropped to his shoulder again.
"That's it baby." He slid his finger from her and held her head gently while she trembled in his arms. A long moment passed as she tried to calm her raging heart. Finally, he spoke against her ear. "Our relationship just changed, Natalie. The orgasm you just gave me--it's a game changer. You understand?"
Her head lifted from his shoulder and she looked into eyes that he quickly hooded. She studied his closed features. "What do you want from me, Marco?" she asked softly, her body still trembling with after quakes of desire.
"You," he said, his voice firm as he looked into her eyes.
She shifted, suddenly anxious in his arms. She was tempted. God knows she was tempted. That one word of his seemed so final, so very sure. She needed clarification--but she could barely get her throat to work. "Me?"
"Yes, you--in my bed."
She licked her lips. "You said it would be a game changer. Would I still live with you? Live in your penthouse, I mean."
"Without question. That won't change." His tone was adamant.
"So--you want a girlfriend?" she questioned.
He hesitated. "No. Not a girlfriend."
"Then what?"
"I want--an arrangement."
An arrangement? Who the hell put it that way? "What--what would this arrangement entail, exactly? What kind of arrangement?" Doubt and insecurity beat a loud drum in her head. "Friends with benefits?" she asked hopefully.
The look he gave her pierced through her heart. "We're not friends, Natalie." He dropped that small bomb into the quiet of the night with a smoldering heat in his voice.
Mixed emotions surged through her. She knew what he was inferring--that the sexual tension constantly between them didn't allow for mere friendship. But a tiny river of fear was blending with the strong attraction she always felt when in his radius. A fear that was telling her she didn't ever want to be this man's enemy--and she felt sorry for anyone who got on his bad side. "Being friends isn't bad. We could be friends as well as--" Her voice trailed off.
"No, Natalie--we can't. Friendship is a tame emotion that doesn't have a damn thing to do with the way you make me feel. I have no desire to unload on you about how my day went, or to sit beside you without touching and watch a damned movie. Those aren't the things I want from you."
She listened to his speech as her head swirled. She knew the gist of what he was leaving unsaid. All he wanted was to fuck her brains out. She remained silent while she digested what he'd told her so far.
He continued, "I want an escort to events like the one tonight--I want you--as my sexual partner--living with me so that I don't have to go out in search of--relief."
"What about the money I owe you--from the wreck?"
He ignored her question and asked one of his own, his thumb reaching out and swiping across her bottom lip, back and forth. "Do you want to sleep with me? Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be naked in my bed? Open yourself up to me? Let me take what I want--give you what you need?"
His gaze locked on hers, his thumb making rivers of molten need rush through her. Natalie became almost hypnotized with want. Sensual heat passed between them and her legs trembled as she tried to hold herself up over him. There was absolutely no doubt that she wanted to sleep with him. She'd have to be over ninety or a lesbian not to want him--and even then she'd probably be more than a little curious.
"Answer me, baby."
"Yes, I've thought about it."
His hand speared into her hair, holding her captive. "And? Is it what you want?"
"Yes."
"It's settled, then."
"No--not yet. I'm not at all comfortable with the situation."
"Here's how we'll play this out. The debt is null and void. If you make me a promise--tell me you'll be exclusive to me--that's the promise I want from you--I'll let the debt go. It won't be mentioned again."
"That's not right--I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of you--"
He cut her off with a rough laugh. "No, you won't be. Take my word on that. I want you--only you, not your money, not your maid service."
"If I make that promise, I don't mind continuing to keep up the penthouse. It's easy--not a problem--unless you'd rather I tried to find a job elsewhere?"
"No, don't find a job. I'd rather you be at the penthouse when I need you. If the housekeeping isn't too much for you, you can do it. I don't like strangers in my home anyway."
"All right. One more thing." She swallowed. She didn't know how to say this but it had to be part of the arrangement, so she was just going to spit it out. "The exclusivity bit you mentioned--it goes both ways? I can't do this if it doesn't."
"You're all I want."
She studied his hooded expression. "Is that an agreement? You'll be exclusive to me as well?"
"You're going to have to learn to trust me, Natalie." His face was carved from granite and his voice was flattened with disapproval.
Like you trust me? Trust me so much that you track my movements? "I hope I will trust you someday. For now--I'll take your word if you give it to me."
"You have it." He stared at her unflinchingly--as if he meant it.
The car was pulling into a circular driveway and Natalie wanted to put this behind them and move on from here. "Okay."
"Yes? You're okay with everything? We have a deal?" He demanded to know.
Natalie's head snapped back to him and studied the lean, closed-off features. A deal? He was calling the beginning of their relationship a deal? But then, he didn't see it as a relationship--it was an arrangement to him. She needed to remember that if she wanted to protect herself--protect her heart.
"We have a deal."
Chapter Seven
The venue where the charity event was being held was beautiful, and Natalie was pleased with her dress and overall appearance. She didn't feel as if she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Two hours later, dinner had been served and speeches had been made and she felt as if she was having an out of body experience. She'd sat beside Marco the entire time and was profoundly glad she was left-handed. He'd stroked her right hand through most of the meal, holding it and caressing it, letting it go only long enough to drop his hand down to her thigh where he stroked her leg, moving the material up and out of his way.
He'd introduced her to the other occupants of the table and then began conversing almost exclusively with the other men, business topics mostly, only about a third of which she understood. But she never felt as if he was ignoring her. The opposite, in fact. Even though he said few words to her, and looked at her even less, she felt flush with his attention.