Read His Passion (By His Command #4) for Free Online Page A

and ignored him.

-7-
     
    It wasn’t a bedroom.
    It was a loft.
    A large loft.
    But in the eyes of a billionaire, perhaps
the extra large bed, couch and chair, fireplace, desk, bookshelf,
bar, private bathroom and kitchen were all just parts of a
bedroom.
    “I can’t believe this,” I said. “It’s
beautiful.”
    “It’s a waste,” Jonathan said. “Just a way
to flaunt…” He growled for a second and then added, “This is what
an inheritance gets you.”
    “Inheritance?” I asked.
    “My grandfather left a lot to my father.
Granted, the man was able to make sound investments and create
wealth but he never did anything. Did nothing. Ever. And he gave me
nothing.”
    That’s where the history lesson and memories
were cut off. Jonathan grabbed for my wrist and pulled me towards
him. I crashed against Jonathan and his hands were around me,
holding me tight. He stared down at me and I could tell his eyes
were filled with anger and hate.
    “Trust me,” Jonathan said.
    “Always.”
    His right hand moved from my back to my leg,
slowly around front, making my knees bend as I moaned.
    “The house is sound proof,” Jonathan said.
“Bullet proof. Bomb proof.”
    “He must be a paranoid man,” I said.
    “Or he’s pissed off a lot of people in his
lifetime.”
    “I don’t care which one it is.”
    “I know you don’t,” Jonathan said. “You’re
mine, that’s all you’re allowed to care about.”
    His hand moved between my legs and he
groaned.
    “Mr. Black, are we in trouble?” I asked. I
showed emotion I should not have but I needed to know.
    “We?” Jonathan smiled. “You are. Get the
handcuffs out. I owe you for not calling me Mr. Black. Before I
leave.”
    I heard the words before I leave but
before I could speak again Jonathan put a hand to my lower back and
pushed. I stumbled, caught myself, and reached for my bag. I always
kept everything we had used together, with the exception of fleeing
California. When we arrived to our new destination (to murder
Oliver Rush) Jonathan had new items waiting for me. Everything he
had was for me and fit me. It made me wonder how long he’d been
watching me in secrecy. I had watched him in the open, pretending
to read magazines while he came to work. But just what had he done
to watch me?
    It drove me wild thinking about it.
    I opened my bag and found a pair of
handcuffs along with the black cloth he used to blindfold me – and
tie me up when needed – along with the new pieces of blood red and
black cloth from the stairway back at the hotel. Part of me wanted
to leave them there but my knowledge of crime television spoke
otherwise, not wanting to leave clues behind. Then again, for all I
knew, we could have been on camera again and again throughout the
hotel, maybe even in the stairwell. Maybe some lucky employee got
to watch Jonathan tie me up and have me.
    I took the cuffs from my bag and when I took
a step back, I felt Jonathan right behind me. He groaned, then
growled, the mood in the room changing.
    He was angry. Annoyed.
    I knew he didn’t want to be there, with his
father, but something made this meeting occur. I just didn’t know
all the details yet.
    Jonathan reached around and ran his fingers
along my hand, interlocking with my fingers. Then he reached for
the handcuffs. He smelled my hair, then rubbed his cheek against
mine, exhaling. He turned his head, his nose pushing at my cheek. I
turned my head too. His eyes were different and vicious. I prepared
for whatever he had to offer me.
    Our lips touched but we didn’t kiss. Our
eyes were open. I was breathing heavier than he, as always. When he
finally closed his mouth on my lips, it was just a single kiss.
Something so tender, even romantic, perhaps a contradictive warning
of what he was going to do to me.
    “Hands behind your back,” he whispered as he
pulled away.
    He took the handcuffs from me as I put my
hands behind my back.
    He applied the handcuffs, the steel
tightening around my