The Gentleman Dom Page 3

  "Thanks!" he yelled back.

  LATER THAT EVENING, she was on her way down, to poolside veg with a good book on her Kindle after having eaten entirely too much at dinner. She happened to end up walking down the hall behind a gaggle of young men who looked the tech conference part much more so than her dark haired Adonis did, and when she heard his name, she couldn't keep her ears from pricking up.

  "Camden's speech was fucking amazing!"

  "He is a for real genius."

  "The best part of this convention is always when he's up on stage. I'd spend six months’ worth of paychecks just to come hear him talk."

  Their chattering descended in to areas about which she had less than no knowledge – she was still one of those people who applied the same principle to her electronics as she did her car – if she turned it on and it worked, then she was good. Anything else and she was forking over butt loads of cash to fix it, not really knowing exactly what it was that she was paying for, but praying she got it back in usable order.

  But what she'd overheard had definitely piqued her interest, and as soon as she found a place to relax near the water, she pulled her phone out of her beach bag and googled him.

  What she discovered made her even more certain that there was absolutely no reason why he should be pursuing her. He was filthy rich, a tech god who had invented something she didn't understand, but that everyone had hailed at the time as the greatest thing since indoor plumbing. He wasn't just a speaker at the convention, he was the speaker – the keynote, and tickets had sold out so fast that they'd added more on, just to give more people a chance to hear him.

  He was certainly interesting to meet, and fun to talk to, but now, more than ever, she couldn't see things going anywhere between them.

  She was just getting settled, pausing to enjoy every bit of the sensory input of the ocean she adored so much, when he appeared before her, pressing a drink into her hand and dropping bonelessly down onto the lounge beside her with a loud sigh.

  "Long day?"

  "Yeah." He sounded vaguely upset or maybe that was just tired.

  "How did your speech go?" she asked, knowing the answer perfectly well.

  But he shrugged. "It went all right."

  Elle snorted. "I rode down in the elevator with five nerds who were still trying to recover from the tantric orgasms you gave them – puhleeze, with the false modesty already."

  He didn't look any happier at her scolding. "It's not false modesty. Public speaking's not my forte."

  "Well you better tell your adoring public that, then – everything I read about you on Google was singing your praises like you're the second coming. Steve Jobs 2.0."

  "Not really, but I'm flattered you bothered to look me up."

  "I have to admit I found it very intriguing."

  She watched him take a sip of his own drink, trying not to drool too obviously as she did so.

  "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

  "Yes, I have." He looked so comically crestfallen that she caved a bit when she knew she shouldn't have. "But I'd be glad to keep you company while you eat, if you like."

  He gave her a bit of a lopsided grin while shaking his head ruefully. "Just my luck – you finally accept my dinner invitation but you're not going to eat."

  "Well, I could probably eat something…" Lord knows she wasn't one to refuse food, unfortunately.

  All of a sudden, he turned to her and affixed her with that drop dead gaze, asking, "Want to go to a nerd party, instead?" The offer surprised even him. It wasn't likely to be a scene that she'd be comfortable with, but she seemed like she might be a bit curious about it and he thought she might like to have a taste of it, anyway. He'd make sure she was in no danger, and she'd see some things she wasn't likely to again in her lifetime, if he was any judge of how she lived her life – which he had a feeling was pretty buttoned down – and he thought his perceptions were probably pretty accurate.

  Elle smiled, surprised and flattered by the invitation. She wasn't much for parties, really, if it came right down to it, but his stories about them had intrigued her. And she was on vacation, after all.

  "I thought you didn't go to those any more – you're too old."

  She was quoting him back at him – and he loved it! "I don't, but I thought you might enjoy the experience. It is kind of unusual."

  "How late is it likely to get?" she asked, wishing the question didn't make her seem as old as she thought it did.

  "Not too – most of these guys have to be back in their hotel rooms before their mommy's call them at eleven, and I'll have you home before the limo turns into a pumpkin."

  That wasn't quite how he had portrayed the parties this morning, but she had already made up her mind. "All right," she said, burying the trepidation that automatically threatened to choke off her breathing and taking a deliberately deep breath.

  He held his hand out to her and helped her up, but didn't give it back until much later, when he was sure she was a little more at ease with him touching her.

  Something was up with her. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but she seemed almost afraid of him, which activated every protective instinct he owned. He knew she was leery of him because of his age, but this was more than that. He had a feeling that fear often wasn't very far beneath the surface with her, and he was truly sorry for that. If he ever got the chance, he'd do everything he could to make sure that she never felt afraid – of anyone or anything – again.

  CHAPTER 3

  She had assumed that the party was at the hotel across the street, but she was wrong. He whisked her into a huge stretch limo for the ride, while she tried not to be too impressed and gawk around her like a complete rube.

  "First ride in a limo?" he asked, offering her champagne, which she declined.

  "No, not really."

  "Care to elaborate?"

  "No."

  He was going to thoroughly enjoy tearing down every one of those defensive walls she'd felt she needed to erect around her to keep him at a distance.

  To keep everyone at a distance, he realized. Not just him. He could see the distinct shadows of her unease in the backs of her eyes, although he gave her credit for not letting it stop her from coming with him.

  He still retained possession of her hand and squeezed it gently. "Thank you for coming with me."

  "Thank you for inviting me," she returned shyly.

  And he couldn't resist leaning forward to steal a kiss from her. She looked so appalled – or was that surprised – that he immediately apologized. "Sorry. But you look very endearing when you blush. I couldn't help myself. I get the feeling that you don't do it very often – you seem very self-possessed."

  It only got worse with his praise; he was delighted to see. "Sometimes, yes, sometimes, no."

  The get together was being held at someone's mansion – it was the biggest house she'd ever seen, with the longest driveway. The chauffer opened their door, and he exited first, and then leaned back in with an offer of his hand to help her out, which she definitely needed if she didn't want to end up in a heap at his feet. Again, he retained possession of it as they walked into the house, using it to keep her close by his side.

  Although she could feel his watchful eyes on her, she knew hers were hugely big – she felt like a bumpkin in New York City, head swiveling from side to side, trying to take everything in at once. Elle was doing her best not to think about the fact that she was probably older than everyone here, probably by at least a decade, in most cases.

  Including his.

  There was a stark reminder of that fact in that there were nude people everywhere – all of them women, so far, and for which she was very grateful – sort of. Two of them were stretched out in the middle of an enormous dining room table with various drinks and what she imagined was drugs on offer from various body parts and orifices.

  Fireworks were going on pretty much continuously, and what should have been the pool was full of what looked like pudding – or mud –
instead of water, although the place was right on the beach if anyone really wanted to go for a swim.

  "Hey, man! You're here! I didn't think you were coming!"

  A very large, equally gorgeous tall man with a long braid of blonde hair hanging down his back glommed onto Alt as if he would never let him go. She would have said that it would be hard for anyone to make Alt look small, but this man did. And when they eventually did part, he took one look at her, then at Alt in pure confusion, and said, "You brought your Moms?"

  Elle couldn't even feel offended – she probably would have said the same thing.

  She was smiling broadly, almost laughing, but Alton wasn't amused. "No, man. This is Elle. She's…" He couldn't quite call her his lady as he wanted to, so he settled for, "She's cool. Elle, this is Rad. He's one of my oldest partners in crime."

  Rad took a step towards her, lifting the hand she extended to his mouth.

  Elle gave Alt a wry look. "Now I see where you got it from."

  "Hell no! I taught him…" Alt protested.

  "Sure you did," she said in a mollifying tone that clearly said that she didn't believe him.

  Rad was nodding his head and giggling, which sounded kind of funny for a man of his size. "You're right, man. She's cool. She's got you nailed down."

  "A little too well, I'm thinking." He bumped big fists with the other man. "We're going to go find ourselves a drink."

  Elle found herself almost dragged away from him, towards where a very scantily clad female was tending an enormous bar.

  Once they got drinks, they wandered through the place, Alt remaining protectively at her side, trying to guide her away from anything he thought might be a bit too much for her – and distinctly away from the hallway off which there were bedrooms. Although he supposed that, by all rights, he should have been trying to get her into one, he wasn't much into that happening here where, like as not, someone might try to join them, and he didn't want her to get the wrong impression that he wanted something like that.

  Quite to the contrary, if he managed to get her into his bed, he intended to have her all to himself.

  There was a large group of stereotypical geeks playing D&D downstairs, another movie theatre showing a Star Wars marathon, where most people were actually watching the movie, and still another, larger room where the walls were the video screens. Everyone seemed to be playing a different video game.

  They did end up skirting through a place where everyone was hovering around a coffee table piled high with a mountain of cocaine. She was surprised at how quickly Alton had hustled her through there. As they were leaving that room, there was a loud scream from down a hallway he had been specifically guiding her away from, as some woman was obviously enjoying herself enormously.

  And, to her surprise, Alton flushed bright red.

  Elle had to laugh as he ended up tugging her out of the house and back towards their limo.

  "I think you've seen more than enough. We should leave before things get more out of hand. What are you laughing about?" he asked as he handed her into the limo.

  "Nothing – it just sounded like someone was having a good time – that's always a good thing."

  She was still arranging herself in the car when he tugged on her hand and asked, "Does the same go for you?"

  "In what way do you mean?"

  The limo lurched a bit out into traffic, and she found herself thrown into his arms, and he didn't show any signs of letting her go. "Is it a good thing for you?"

  "Sex?"

  She felt her shoulder length hair being lifted so that he could nibble the nape of her neck. "Yes."

  Alt felt her shudder and saw her nipples tighten beneath her shirt.

  "Sometimes, yes," she answered cautiously, much stiffer in his arms than he would prefer.

  He sat up behind her, pulling her onto his lap with her facing away from him, having found that sometimes women found it easier to talk when they didn't feel as if someone was staring at them. Alton was aware that he barely knew her and that he had no right to ask the questions he was going to, but he couldn't stop himself from doing so.

  His arms tightened gently around her. "Feel free to tell me to fuck off and die, Elle, but did you have a bad experience?"

  That certainly was a loaded question; one she didn't think she wanted to answer.

  "Fuck off and die."

  She didn't say it nastily at all, just as if she was reciting exactly what he'd told her to say.

  "Fair enough. Did my kissing you earlier bother or frighten you?"

  "No."

  She felt him heave a sigh of relief. "I'm glad, because I already like you a lot, and I really don't want you to be afraid of me. If you think I'm pushing you at all, please don't hesitate to tell me to back the fuck off."

  "Back the fuck off," she repeated.

  He had to laugh. "Okay. Message received." Alt arranged her more securely in his arms, still holding her tightly against him, but he could see her face now, and she, his.

  "Alt?"

  "Yes?"

  "How do you know you like me a lot? I mean, what are you doing here with me? You should be dating someone your own age who is drop dead gorgeous, like you, and making little drop dead gorgeous babies."

  He could feel himself coloring a bit at her description of him. "You think I'm gorgeous?"

  She snorted. "Have you looked in a mirror at any time lately?"

  Alt shrugged. "Yeah."

  "You're fucking amazing looking, and you should be with someone who doesn't remember when M*A*S*H* wasn't in reruns."

  He caught her eye. "Thank you for the advice, but I know what I like."

  "Fat, middle aged women who – hey! What do you think you're doing? No! Don't – I can't go over your lap – stop!"

  But he proved her wrong – she most definitely could, and she did.

  Not for very long, but long enough for him to deliver about seven swats that had her shrieking her disapproval the entire time, even though he hadn't done what he would normally do. If they got to a point where there was a "normal" for them, and he fervently hoped that they did, he wouldn't bother to leave her pants up in the interests of maintaining her modesty and not traumatizing her too much.

  Practically before it began, it was over – leaving her sitting, highly disgruntled, on his lap on a very sore behind.

  "I won't have you talking about yourself like that. I'll understand completely if you don't want to see me again because I just spanked you, but this is non-negotiable. Any time you start to rag on yourself within my earshot, you can expect to find yourself exactly where you just were – and I'll warn you to be careful, because I won't necessarily worry about who's around when I do it, either."

  Even though he knew he might well lose her forever, in doing so, he let go of her, and she skittered away from him, into the corner of the limo. He remained exactly where he was, his jaw working as he listened to her sniffling as a result of her spanking.

  "I'm not mad at you, Elle, and I'd love to hold you, if you'd let me. It just hurts me to hear you say things like that about yourself, and I won't tolerate it. I hope you can find it in your –" He was going to say heart, but it was much too soon for her on that count. "I hope you can find it within you not to hate me too much."

  He left his hand on the seat between them, palm up, like an invitation to a little bird.

  But she didn't take it, and his heart sank as, when the car stopped, she didn't even wait for his chauffer, Briggs, to open the door but clambered around him and out, into the hotel. He could have gone after her – with his long legs, he could have caught up to her in about five strides – but he decided not to.

  Perhaps he was barking up the wrong tree. Perhaps he shouldn't have done what he did. But he didn't change himself based on whom he was with. If she gave him a chance, she'd have to come to grips with that – and other things – about him.

  HE WAS STRANGELY absent for the next day or so, and it wasn't until the middle of the next day
that she finally saw him, only she didn't think he saw her. She'd deliberately taken a chair that was somewhat hidden by foliage, although not enough to truly obstruct her view. There were several volleyball nets on the beach, and he was playing at one of them with a group of other guys who looked even less nerdy than he did, and he fit right in. For a nerd, he had no small amount of athletic ability, too.

  And didn't he look absolutely fine in a pair of body hugging swim trunks?

  So much so that she felt compelled to call a friend of hers, one of the few who knew where she'd disappeared to once the mess of what she'd been through was all cleared up.

  "Hey, Elly-Belly, how are you? Found any good looking beach bums to hang around with?" April asked, and Elle knew that she full expected her to say a resounding "No," since that really wasn't how she thought of Elle at all.

  Instead, she went with, "Well, not exactly a beach bum…"

  April was on full alert at that point and demanded all the details, which Elle readily spilled.

  She remained entirely unimpressed, even after Elle had told him just who he was.

  "He spanked you?" she bridled. "After what you've just been through with –"

  "He doesn't know about that."

  There was silence on the other end. "Honey, as much as I would love to tell you to go for it – and if you were any other woman, I would – but I'm much more concerned about your physical safety and psychological and emotional well being than I am anything else. Maybe it's better for you to play this cool right now and just have a nice, relaxing vacation without the…complications – however lovely – he represents. You're not the hook up type, anyway. You never will be."

  "I know."

  "You know that I'm right here for you, any time you need me? That I'll be down there in a couple hours if you so much as make a peep that you want me there?"

  April would have preferred to have accompanied her on this little adventure of hers, but she couldn't get the time off work without pissing off her pain-in-the-ass boss, but given the right impetus, she'd tell him to take a long walk and be sprawled next to her BFF in a second.