Blush (Black Rose #1) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Black Rose Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
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I don’t know why it matters. Does he really think I’m going to tell someone about this club? How to get into it? I signed their nondisclosure agreement.

By now the path is familiar to me. Through the back of the bar, down a flight of stairs, through a narrow hallway.

And then—

Into the club.

He slides the blindfold off me and I look around. The club is busier than I’ve ever seen it.

It’s a Saturday night, but it’s very late on a Saturday night. People are dancing, people are making out, one woman sits on the bar, a man’s head between her legs. He’s eating her. Eating her right here in the public part of the bar.

Not public, actually. It is a private club.

“Is this what you want?” Jackson nods toward the couple at the bar. “You want me to eat you out in public?”

Is he still trying to scare me away? His gaze is inscrutable, and for the first time, I honestly have no idea what he’s thinking. “Yeah, I do, Jack. If that’s what you want.”

“Dear God.” His eyes blaze with heat, but he makes no move to touch me. “If you only knew what you were doing to me. What you’re doing to every man in this club right now. With that corset. Even with my jacket on, your boobs… Those tits… Those sweet, luscious tits…”

I shed his jacket, let it land on the floor. “You like what you see?”

“This isn’t a game, Mandy. You’re playing with fire here.”

The idea actually turns me on. Fire. Candles. Wax play. Yeah, I’ve done some research.

“Or maybe you do know what you do to me. Still want to learn how to give head, Mandy?”

“Maybe I do. Or maybe I want to get burned.”

Jackson’s whole body stills for one beat, two, and then—

“Damn it all to hell,” he growls and pulls me to him, crushes his lips to mine.

I try to keep my mouth closed. I’m determined to keep my lips sewn shut. I want to. He doesn’t deserve a kiss from me, not after ignoring me for a month.

But he’s still Jackson Paris.

And…I still love him.

Zorro—or Ben Black, as it turned out—didn’t make me tingle like this. The hunky dancer at Frankie’s party didn’t make me tingle like this.

Neither of them made my body warm in a sizzling flush.

I try. I try so hard…

But Jackson’s will is stronger than mine.

I part my lips, and I let him kiss me deeply.

My legs turn to jelly, and my whole body beats with the pounding of his heart.

We’re on display in the open part of the club—I wearing my corset, Jack wearing only a button-down shirt.

And we’re making out. Making out next to the bar, where only ten feet away, a woman is getting her pussy licked.

This isn’t reality. It can’t be. I’m kissing the man of my dreams while a woman gets eaten out next to me.

I want it.

I want it all.

I want Jack to show me everything that happens in this club. After all, that’s what he thinks I’m not ready for.

So I open to his kiss, let his tongue sweep deeper into my mouth. I kiss him back. I kiss him back with all the tingling in me that his nearness evokes. With all the love in my soul that I feel for him.

And with all the deep, dark passion of this place, with what this place conjures in me.

What Jackson conjures in me.

In the end, it’s Jackson who breaks the kiss.

Jackson who gazes at me with his beautiful hazel eyes.

“Come with me, Mandy. Come with me to the dark side.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Jackson

Only one suite is available, and it’s just been vacated. Employees are sanitizing, so I stand outside the door with Mandy while they finish.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask her.

“I’m sure.”

“Be very sure. Once we go inside, I’m in charge.”

She swallows. It’s not audible, but I see the movement in her neck.

“I understand, Jackson.”

“Do you?” I touch her cheek gently. Does she know what I’m after?

She smiles slightly. “I understand…sir.”

God, she sounds just like a submissive. Dare I hope?

The jealousy that invaded me when I saw her dancing with that stripper felt like razor-sharp knives cutting my flesh open. I’ve never felt anything like it, and damn, I never want to feel it again.

Except I have felt it before.

When I caught her with Zorro at this very club.

The night my friend Ben betrayed me.

He apologized the next day. I forgave him, of course. He’s my employer, but even more than that, he’s my friend. He was trying to show me that I felt something more for Mandy than I was willing to admit. I threw his accusations into the back of my mind and took a break from sex, from the club.

From Mandy.

And now, a month later? Seeing her up onstage with that dancer?


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