Free Hard As Stone (Beautiful Betrayal Book 1) by Alex Elliott Page B

he asks.
    “The opposite.”
    He gives a slight tug to my hand. “Come talk to me. Over there.” Orion juts his chin to some invisible place, not that I break eye contact to see where he means.
    I’m floored by a man who is taller than any jungle gym I’ve encountered wants to talk. “Okay. Sure.” I hope I’m speaking and the mute button isn’t pressed.
    Confirmation: he leads me to an alcove. It’s down from the dance floor, and one I didn’t know existed. Not that I’ve been to this club before. Thunderstruck, I follow along, our fingers interlaced, and a tiny voice inside my head asks, “ Should I be afraid?”
    We’re alone and even though he’s wearing an expensive suit, he has the body of someone who clearly doesn’t sit around all day crunching numbers.
    “Why were you dancing alone?” He peers down at me as if thoughtfully assessing as he waits for me to explain. There’s a magnetic undercurrent in him that has me melting like a sugar cube in hot water.
    My tongue is numb being this close to an unchecked power source of masculinity. Let’s get real—he’s too … I can’t fathom the proper term, but he’s too . Inside the narrow hall, I’m panting and the blood is pounding in my ears. I can’t compose my thoughts and rattle off, “Doesn’t everyone?”
    “Not you. If I admit to watching you across the club, would that turn you on?” His stare drills into me.
    I’ve heard of insta-attraction and what’s sizzling between us, I’d like to explore. Hell, I’d like to ride it from top to bottom like no one’s business.
    I look directly into Orion’s eyes, and murmur, “You turn me on all the way.” Pointless to fight something this strong.
    He pilots me further down the hall, halts and tries a door, then another. They’re all locked. Nearing the fire exit, he stops. “Looks like this will have to do. Unless you’re ready to leave.”
    Dumbfounded, I ask, “Who are you?”
    Leaning closer, he whispers in my ear, “Your worst nightmare.”
    “Trust me,” I reply. “You aren’t.”
    “So young and yet so sure.” His expression turns serious. “You don’t seem like a woman waiting for prince charming.”
    When I gasp, he chuckles. I’m not put off. If anything, I’m lured in by the gravelly edge to his rich smooth voice. “What else do you imagine?” I ask him.
    For a beat our gazes lock.
    It’s followed by a decadent rumble in his chest. Orion is far different from those men I associate with from Nantucket. Each of those is owned by a woman with a pedigree. Possessing the correct DNA are their claim to fame. Archaic that some women are still birthed and bred to rear the next generation of power moguls—but it happens. A bevy of gentile ladies and each is expected to dress in pastels, smile graciously while wearing strings of pearls, and wielding a saber.
    Orion closes the gap between us. “How about we forego the fantasy. Kiss me, beautiful.”
    His tone is as alpha authoritarian as it is commanding, and not one I’m accustomed to hearing. Or obeying . Yet I get the novel sensation, I’d like to and that’s frightening. Definitely the idea of really being touched by him, more so than what he’s already doing, is mind-blowing. But instead of being truly afraid, my clueless brain is saturated with lust so deeply tinged, it’s cloying. Without question, whatever he has to offer, I want in on.
    “Just a kiss?” I ask.
    “Just a kiss,” he promises and my heart batters within my chest.
    Bending toward him, I don’t close my eyes. He’s what I need. Maybe this is just a kiss, but it’s a reminder that I don’t want to spend another New England summer counting days, hours, minutes. I’m done with pretense.
    I want hard, dark, gritty.
    A blur and a storm.
    Dangerous.
    I can’t become what my family wants: predictable. Safe. A cog in a wheel. One kiss and I’ll remember. I’ve got to remember this night. Our lips meet and his warm mouth envelops me in a way