Taming Blake (A New Adult Romance): The Complete Trilogy (40 page)

I watched his grey eyes begin to well up.

“When a whole fucking
town
doesn’t believe you, you start to question things yourself.”

“But you did nothing wrong, Blake,” I whispered. “Elizabeth told me what happened.”

“That’s not true,” he cut in, obviously still so angry – angry at himself. “I didn’t do enough. I didn’t help Brett, as much as I could have. He went off the rails, and I didn’t do enough to try and get him back on track.”

“But you know
why
they didn’t believe you, don’t you?”

And as I spoke, I could hear Elizabeth’s words ringing in my ears:
it was easy to blame Blake, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who should never have been there in the first place ...

“You weren’t born to all this, were you?” I added softly as I gestured around this sumptuous room, with its breathtaking view of the Manhattan skyline. “So why did you keep letting me think that you
were
? All those times I was running my mouth off about your ‘privilege’, about how
easy
it must have been being Blake Matthews ... I feel like such a damned
idiot
.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “It’s just second nature. It’s what I’ve been doing with
everyone
in this world, practically my whole life. To succeed in business, I needed to believe that I was
born
to this, just as entitled as anyone else. And it’s what people want to hear, too. Nobody wants to know
my
past, not really. They want to believe that I’m just like them, and so I let them. A few people know the truth —  Elizabeth O’Connor and Brett’s parents, the Carters, of course. But these days we all pretend. We’re all
very
good at pretending …”

I reached out to take his hand, half convinced he might pull it from my grip. But instead, he let me take it in both hands, turning towards me.

“You know what?” he said, quietly. “I don’t think I’ve told
anyone
the whole story.”

“So why don’t you start with me?” I said tenderly.

He took a deep breath, then began.

§

“Well, I
am
from New York. That’s not a lie. This place is in my blood, and I could never change that. But I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, in the Upper East Side. I was born and raised ... if you could even call it that, in Queens. I never knew my father; he didn’t stick around long enough for that. There were
men
,
of course. My mother’s boyfriends. If I was lucky, they ignored me. And if I wasn’t, then regular beatings made sure that I kept out of the way.

“My mother tried her best, I
have
to believe that. But things were difficult for her. A single mother, trying to hold it together back then? No family of her own to help her out? Well, over the years, she slid further and further into addiction. First it was just booze and pills, something to numb the pain. I can understand that. But then things got worse.

“I had a sister, Jenny. She looked after me as best she could. She was older than me. And I don’t blame her for taking off like she did. She was sixteen, life was unbearable, and even
I
could see the way that Mom’s latest boyfriend was looking at her. She promised she’d come back for me once she got settled somewhere. But she never came back. I never heard from her again.

“So after Jenny left, it was just me. I was
seven years old
, Jessica. But there was some place warm, where I could stay all day. So, I practically moved in to the library. It was wonderful to escape into books. You know that as well as I do. And while I was there, I could forget everything at home. The hunger. The cold. The fear. The screaming and crying, as my mother’s latest boyfriend walked out on her, as they always did, sooner rather than later. I was good at school, and I put all my energy into that. I’d go to school, then the library ‘til it closed, then walk around the park until I was exhausted enough to sleep through the incessant noise at home.

“I don’t know what would have happened to me without Mr Matthews. He was my sixth grade teacher. First, he noticed I was smart. Then, he noticed I was hungry. I was always the first into the classroom, and he began to bring me breakfast. And we talked. About school, and about my future. He told me about college. You know? I hadn’t even
heard
about Harvard.

“And years later, when I actually found myself there, I realized that everyone else at that place had been practically
born
swaddled in the school colors. So, you see why I’ve had to hide all this?”

I nodded, shifting closer on the couch, softly brushing the tears from his cheeks with my thumb.

“One day,” he continued, “along with my breakfast, Mr Matthews brought me something else. It was a practice test paper. He told it to me straight. ‘Blake,’ he said, ‘you’re a smart kid. That much is clear. You deserve to go to college, to an
ivy league
college, if you want. But that’s just not going to happen if you stay here. I’ve been in touch with some schools, some
good
schools, the ones that prepare you for college. I’ve told them just how smart you are, and they think you might be scholarship material.’

“So, I sat the paper. And that’s how I got into Dalton on a full scholarship. Man, it was a different world. I was struggling to keep up. The scholarship paid for my uniform, so I
looked
the same as the other kids, at least. But what with the lack of sleep and food at home, it was getting increasingly hard to concentrate on my studies.

“I kept in touch with Mr Matthews – he said I should come round any time I wanted, let him know how I was getting on. Well, I started going round more and more, spending less and less time at home. Without either of us ever having to say a word, I’d moved in with him. And though we never really talked about it, when I was eighteen I took his name. He felt like a father to me ...”

“Oh, Blake, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, reeling from all this new information. It was so far from what I’d imagined, and so sad, that I couldn’t help but cry myself. But still, I held back my tears as much as I was able; I needed to be here for
him
.

“I might have been wearing the same uniform as the other kids,” he said, “but I wasn’t the same, and they could smell it. The kinder ones ignored me, then there were those who made the snide remarks. I tried to keep myself to myself, if only not to give anyone any fresh ammunition to hurt me with. But Brett was different from the start. If he could sense my poverty, he never mentioned it. He just treated me like any regular kid, the same as him. I was lucky to have Brett on my side. He was popular. And it meant that from then on, people mostly left me alone.

“We spent all our time together. Every day at school. And then in the holidays, he took me with him. Harvard became
our
dream: we were going to go there together. And so, I reached a kind of normality. I lived with Mr Matthews during the week, where things were quiet, calm and peaceful. And during weekends and holidays, I became one of the Carters. I could see where Brett got it from: they were all just as kind, warm and welcoming as him.

“I went round to visit my mother at least once a week. Some days, she was pleased to see me. Some days, she cried, said sorry, begged me to come home. And some days? She just looked straight through me, as if I wasn’t there.

“As I got closer to the Carters, I saw what it was like to be in a real family. I loved spending time with them. Their jokes, their long relaxed dinners, their family stories, their easy ways ... But Brett? I guess he was just too trusting. He saw the best in everyone, and some people took advantage of that. He began hanging around with a bad crowd. I tried to get him away from them, but he just wouldn’t listen.

“He was drinking all the time, and taking drugs as well. Cocaine mostly. He was high the night he died. That was proved at the inquest. But the Carters managed to keep that out of the public eye, and I don’t blame them for it.

“That night, we’d been hanging out with Brett’s new crowd. Yes, I was there. I tried as much as I could to be with Brett, to keep an eye on him. But things started to turn dark. After the cocaine, they were out looking for trouble. I don’t know what they wanted to do exactly. It might have been something stupid, like smash up a storefront. So I begged Brett to come home with me. He wanted to stay out, but eventually he relented. I suppose he just wanted to stop me pestering him.

“He
insisted
on driving. And I’ll never forgive myself for not taking the wheel that night. But Brett could be so God-damn stubborn. He kept telling me, over and over again, that he was sober. And it just seemed safer to get him out of there, away from those kids. I was worried they’d get caught by the police, and he’d wind up with a criminal record, and then our dream of Harvard would be over. If I’d just let him stay that night, he’d probably still be alive today ...”

At this he let out a short, sad laugh, shaking his head.

“And from what I know now, a little criminal record wouldn’t stand between a family like the Carters and the Harvard admissions board.”

He pushed himself up from the couch, taking a moment to stare out through the large picture window at the sprawling Manhattan skyline, before turning to face me once more.

“The Carters stood by me. They made it clear that they didn’t blame me in any way. They’re good people, Jessica. They said they’d come to think of me almost as a son, that they wanted me to live the life that Brett and I had dreamed of. They paid my way through Harvard. And when I started in business, Brett’s father was the first person I went to for advice. He was also my first investor. We’re still close, but as you know by now, I’d always found it too difficult to return to Southampton, to dredge up those painful old memories once again.

“I’ve told you before, Jessica. You make me feel like
new
things are possible in my life, and when I heard Elizabeth talking to you about her summerhouse, I realized that I desperately wanted to see the place afresh. I loved it there, and I wanted you to experience it with me. I tried to leave my past where it should be – behind me. I wanted to focus on the future, our future, together, with you. I was wrong to think I could have done that without being totally honest about who I am, and where I came from. I’m sorry if I deceived you, Jessica. It wasn’t my intention.”

I was left speechless for a moment. It was so far from what I’d imagined his upbringing to have been. I saw him in a whole new light. And if I thought I loved him before, it was nothing compared to the way I felt for him in that moment: my feelings so intense they were like a kind of pain.

I knew I should say something to break the silence, but almost no words would come.

“Oh Blake,” was all I could manage. Just a simple whisper, my heart breaking, my eyes welling up as I took him in my arms.

“So there you have it,” he said quietly as I hugged him. “My sister, Jenny, left when I was just a kid. I’ve spent thousands on private investigators over the years, but there’s never been so much as a trace of her. I was sixteen when Brett died. And I wasn’t quite twenty when I lost Mr Matthews to cancer. As for my mother? Well, I tried to help her as much as I could. I paid her rent, and I sent her to rehab, over and over again. But her liver finally packed in, just a few days shy of my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” I murmured, my head resting against his shoulder, my arms wrapped around him from behind.

“So you see,” he continued, looking out onto the glimmering city below us, “I lost everyone I ever loved, far too young. You don’t have to be a psychiatrist to see why I have to build walls around me, to stop people getting too close. But I think it’s time to stop now. I thought I was making myself stronger, but I realize now that there was always a part of me running away.”

As I picked out my outfit — a plain black ensemble of skinny 7 For All Mankind jeans and a black satin Valentino blouse, with matching black Stella McCartney underwear beneath — I felt that familiar mixture of nervousness and excitement, putting on these sexy, stylish clothes, all the while knowing that soon enough I would be peeling them straight off again.

Because it was here once more: the last Friday of the month.

I pulled up my jeans, buttoned my blouse, then stepped back to check myself out in the mirror that now hung from the wall next to my bed. I was looking good, and if I’m honest, so was my apartment. Taking a look around, I nodded with satisfaction, happy that I had made the best possible use of the space that I could.

As I was zipping up my boots, I heard the sharp sound of the buzzer to my apartment, a noise so shrill and loud it never failed to make me jump out of my skin.

But who could that be?

I approached the intercom somewhat cautiously, wondering what kind of excuse I might have to think up, if whoever-it-was wanted to visit for a while.

“Hello?” I said, speaking into the receiver.

“I was just passing by,” the familiar voice said, “and I thought you could use a ride?”

I felt a smile flicker across my lips.

“Down in just a minute,” I replied breathlessly.

Stepping out onto the wet, windswept city street just a few moments later, I saw Blake’s sleek black town car. And as I approached it, his driver Nathaniel stepped out, nodding politely before opening the passenger door for me. I felt myself blush as I met his eye — after all, I’d seen a
lot
more of him at Blake’s parties, not to mention the time I …

“Good evening, Miss Clark,” he said in his usual polite tone, interrupting my thoughts, the very picture of professionalism and good manners, no indication that I was anything other than another anonymous passenger.

“Good evening, Nathaniel,” I replied, trying to match his cool, businesslike tone, trying to pretend I didn’t know exactly what he looked like beneath that crisp, tailored uniform.

He held the door open for me and I slid into the dark, plush leather interior, thankful that the back of this car was rendered private by a sleek panel of blacked-out glass.

“Hello again,” Blake said, his white teeth glinting as he smiled at me, the intoxicating musk of his cologne giving me a dizzy rush as the door to the car closed behind me and I slid myself right up towards him. He too was dressed from head to toe in black, and his hair was slicked and shining, just begging me to run my fingers through it.

“Thanks for the ride,” I purred, feeling my heart begin to thump and my skin begin to tingle beneath his intense steely gaze.

“I didn’t want to wait until later to see you,” he explained, a note of playfulness to his voice.

And as he spoke, he reached out and took my hand, lifting it spontaneously to his soft sensuous lips and kissing my fingers, sending an electric shiver right through me.

Whatever Blake wants, Blake gets.

Just then, the car’s engine growled into life and we began to move, the dark streets flashing past as we headed towards that unassuming location, halfway between Chelsea and the waterfront.

“You look amazing by the way,” he said softly, as I turned towards him, my desire for him so strong now it was almost outside my own control.

I took a final hopeful glance at that blacked-out window, then leant forward to kiss him, my lips grazing against his, another shiver running right through me as he grabbed me hungrily in response, his tongue slipping eagerly into my mouth, his fingers moving through my hair, his body pressing hard against mine.

My fingers had soon strayed between his legs as we kissed, gently cupping him through the soft black cloth of his pants, feeling how hot and hard he was getting already, wondering if I might even dare unzip him here on the back seat. And I knew I was ready too, from the distinct hot wetness I could feel between my legs as I shifted my thighs even further apart, yearning for some kind of sweet release.

But even as I stroked Blake through his pants, I felt his fingers gently close around my wrist, stopping me.

“Not yet,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses. “Not here. As much as I want you all to myself, Jessica, I think we should save this for later …”

§

The car pulled up in a wide, shadowy alleyway, around the
side
from the usual door, and as I looked out puzzled, Blake murmured, “I thought we could take the private entrance this evening …”

Nathaniel got out of the car, opening the car door for us and we both smiled and nodded at him. And from behind me, just the faintest trace of a whisper, I heard Blake add, “I’ll see you inside.”

Blake led me to an unassuming door hidden by shadows, just a little further down from the car, removing a sleek keyfob from his pocket and unlocking it quickly and smoothly.

“Ladies first,” he said with a smile.

At first, all I could see was darkness, and I felt my nervousness increase as I stepped into the pitch-black room, all my senses enveloped for a moment by the thick, velvety blackness. I heard the door thump close behind me and then, after another moment, the room was bathed in a soft warm light.

“Blake,” I gasped. “It’s beautiful!”

“Thank you,” he replied, as I gazed around me at the small, elegantly furnished room. “I designed this place myself …”

It was a chamber fit for a king. The walls, like the locker room, were made of a heavy sumptuous wood, and in the far corner was a plush red velvet daybed.

“I use this private chamber to prepare before parties,” he explained, “and sometimes I come back afterwards to catch some sleep, too, if I don’t feel quite like going home. But …”

At this he paused, then smiled.

“Well, you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to bring back here.”

I paced around the room, marveling at the beautiful furnishings, running my fingers over the surfaces, exploring every little nook and cranny. There were large fitted cupboards, an elegant shower room, and even a small, well-stocked fridge.

“Champagne?” Blake asked, removing a chilled bottle of my favorite, Verve Cliquot.

How could I resist?

“Thank you,” I said, feeling another distinct rush of excitement as he popped the cork, the delicious liquid overflowing from the neck of the bottle in a rich white froth, and I shivered with anticipation at the thought of whatever fun and games might layahead of us
…

§

This time, instead of being a timid outsider, I felt like one of the
hosts
of tonight’s events. After a delicious champagne toast, Blake and I eagerly got undressed, donning our matching silver masks, the electricity crackling in the air as we made our way through a private corridor and then out into that main central chamber — the very first to arrive.

My eyes kept darting hungrily back to him; this perfect, statuesque man that was now
mine
, his sculpted body still such a turn on. And from the way his cock had grown, the minute I undressed — and had remained rock solid ever since — I could tell he must feel the same way about me.

And as we took our seats on one of the plush, gilt-edged velvet couches right in the center of the room, waiting for the place to slowly fill up, I found my whole body tingling with anticipation.

“I love this moment,” Blake said, leaning across to me. “The calm before the storm.”

A moment later, the lights dimmed, the soft throb of music pulsed from the speakers, slow and sensual, and the doors opened as the first of the party-goers arrived. I watched with growing excitement, as the parade of sexy strangers flowed out into the room: all naked, a range of skin colors and body types, but all with that same hungry look in their eyes, each of them eager to seek out their own kinky, private pleasures from this evening’s entertainment.

“Welcome, welcome,” Blake murmured, nodding and smiling at a few folk that had obviously shot him a knowing glance or a smile — probably recognizing him, despite his mask, from their countless previous visits here, and no doubt from his godlike body.

From Blake’s relaxed, comfortable pose, lounging back on the plush velvet sofa, it was only only the sheer hardness of his cock that betrayed the fact that he, too, was just as excited, just as turned on, as the rest of us.

“Hello again,” a soft, feminine voice purred from nearby.

Both Blake and I turned in its direction. Perhaps
he
knew this raven-haired, tanned svelte beauty, but she was a total stranger to me — her icy blue eyes staring straight past me as if I wasn’t even there, flashing hungrily over Blake’s tanned skin, taking him in then licking her sensuous lips and placing her hand so confidently on her hip, her perfect little breasts softly rising and falling, the hair between her legs shaved in a razor-thin, jet-black stripe above her swollen pink lips.

“Mind if I join you?” she cooed, her eyes still fixed firmly on Blake.

I held my breath, waiting for him to speak.

He looked across to me, meeting my eye for the briefest half-second, before turning back towards this pouting, expectant brunette.

“I’m afraid I’m taken,” he said with a slow smile, and I felt my whole body flash with a heady mixture of relief, excitement and pride.

He’s finally mine.

And as the brunette watched on, unable to pull her jealous gaze away from us, I reached over, trailing my fingers lightly and sensuously over Blake’s tanned skin, then down over his pecs, down over his washboard abs, down between his legs, finally curling my slim fingers around that thick hard cock of his – God, it always looked so
huge
in my tiny hand! – slowly masturbating him.

Then, with a final shiver of anticipation, I actually lifted myself right up from my seat and threw my leg over him, so that I was in position to ride him, my back to the room, my forehead pressed against his, my eyes boring into his, my breasts lightly grazing his chest, one hand on his broad shoulder to steady myself, the other reaching down confidently between my legs, first to play with my pussy for a moment making sure I was good and wet, then to take his cock and gently lower myself right onto it, gasping as I felt him stretch me wide open once again, sliding as ever so easily inside despite my tightness, his hands moving to my ass, spreading me, guiding me even
further
down onto him.

And as I began to ride him, working myself sexily up and down his hot hard shaft, my tongue flicking against his own, our eyes locked and our bodies moving in unison, both of us beginning to gasp and groan as we worked our way towards a simultaneous release, it felt as if the whole room was watching on as I claimed Blake as
mine
.