Chapter 1: Drawn to Mr. King: Chapter 1

“THE ARTIST DID AN incredible job.”

I tear my gaze away from the artwork on the wall towards the owner of the deep voice. Dark grey eyes fanned by thick, dark lashes watch me in amusement.

“S-sorry,” I stammer, taken aback by their intensity. It’s almost intrusive, the way they study me. But faint lines at their corners soften them as their owner smiles.

“I’m Jaxon.” The smooth, deep voice and dark grey eyes hold out a hand.

I take it politely and shake. Even the hands are intense, their grip warm and strong. The sort of hands I’m sure can dominate, draw out pleasure with ease.

The sort of hands that feature in my dreams.

“Nice to meet you, Jaxon.” I smile, willing the heat in my cheeks to fade. “I’m Megan. I’m actually the artist.”

I drop my eyes away from his gaze. He still has my hand held firmly inside his.

“Well, Megan,” his voice is as smooth as velvet as he says my name in a crisp British accent—a voice I’m sure can make something innocent sound deliciously filthy, “it’s certainly a pleasure to meet you.”

He lets go of my hand and turns his attention back to the wall. “I love how you’ve captured all those unique elements. It is beautifully executed.”

I gaze back at my artwork. The hotel wanted something travel themed for their re-opening. They have a lot of business travellers staying, being so close to London’s Heathrow Airport. My piece is circular, with individual sections, like a giant jet engine. In each section is a different person in uniform, some vintage, some modern.

“Why did you choose that image for the top?” Jaxon asks, one long finger pointing to the flight attendant wearing Atlantic Airways’ iconic bright red lipstick and shoes.

I release a small sigh as the tension leaves my shoulders. This, I can talk about. When it comes to art… I can relax and be myself.

“I used to work there as a flight attendant. For a few years anyway, before leaving to pursue a career where I could use my love of art.”

“Atlantic Airways have my sincere condolences.” His eyes glitter before they drop to my lips. “But looking at your work, I’d say it was a wise choice.” His voice delivers the compliment with ease as he returns his gaze to my artwork.

I glance at him from the corner of my eye. His features are striking—strong jawline, sharp cheekbones. All clean lines, like his immaculate suit. His dark hair is sprinkled with grey at the sides. The overall effect is sexy.

So sexy.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

A hum of excited chatter fills the air from the other guests here for the hotel’s re-opening. Some come and look at my artwork and nod their approval, then move on, ready to network with the next business contact they recognise.

Not Jaxon.

He stands with his hands in his pockets as he admires my work. A peaceful smile on his lips, as though he has all the time in the world. I doubt he’s the kind of man who allows himself to be rushed. He’s too calm and in control. I can’t imagine anything ruffles his confident exterior. He makes it look so easy—so effortless.

“Champagne, madam?”

“Please.” I smile gratefully as I take the glass being offered from the tray. Anything to give my hands something to hold. I tilt the glass back and take a sip as Jaxon shakes his head at the waiter.

“I think you have a beautiful gift, Megan.” His dark grey eyes seek out mine. “I work in publishing and see a lot of talented artists. Something about yours stands out. It’s rich and full of passion. It tells me you’re a passionate woman.”

I swallow the champagne too fast and cough.

Jaxon chuckles, the lines around his eyes creasing. “I’m sorry. That sounded like a rather terrible chat-up line.”

“I liked it,” I blurt, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

This is why I rarely drink; I make a fool of myself.

Jaxon rolls his lips, pulling back his smile. He certainly isn’t looking at me as though he thinks I’m a fool. In fact, the way his eyes keep dropping to my lips… I brush my fingers against the back of my neck as a smile plays on my lips. Is he flirting with me?

He raises a brow at me, his eyes bright as he runs a hand around the five o’clock shadow on his jaw.

“You’d think I’d be better with words, the job I’m in.”

I tip my head back and laugh, too loud.

The champagne’s fault.

He holds his hands up in front of his chest, a warm smile lighting up his face.

“Okay, I should quit now. But I want to write some illustrators’ names down for you. Some brilliant ones I’ve worked with. Maybe you’ll enjoy looking at some of their work.”

He reaches into the inner pocket of his navy-blue suit jacket and pulls out a small notepad and pen. The pen has the initials JK engraved in gold down its side. As he writes, his brow creases in concentration. His strong fingers hold the pen and mark out elegant loops on the paper. I draw in a breath.

I want to know what those fingers would feel like tracing loops over my skin.

“I’m just going to—” I gesture towards the back of the lobby where the toilets are and turn, walking away. But not before seeing the confusion on Jaxon’s face at my sudden departure.

God, I’m an idiot.

He’s just a nice, polite man, admiring my artwork. It doesn’t matter that he’s Henry Cavill-sexy and has got my heart pounding faster than the horses’ hooves at the Grand National. I just know if I stand there a moment longer, I will say something stupid, like… can I lick you? Or something to that effect.

I head into the ladies and freshen myself up, fixing a loose curl that has fallen from the messy pile at the back of my head. I’m not one of those women who can look polished with no hair out of place. Having wild, auburn curls that pay no attention to hairspray and grips does that to you.

I sigh as I smooth down my deep blue dress and take a deep breath before heading back out into the lobby. The spot where I left Jaxon is now occupied by another couple. Maybe he left already. It would serve me right for leaving mid-conversation.

The hotel manager comes over with some guests, introducing me and my artwork to them. I stand and make polite chit-chat with them as he heads off to draw the winner for the evening’s raffle. Applause echoes around the foyer as it’s announced that ticket number three-hundred thirteen has won an all-expenses-paid stay in the newly re-furbished penthouse suite tonight. It’s only when the unmistakable deep voice responds that I realise Jaxon has won.

After hearing his voice, I search him out in the room and see him talking to two men in business suits. He looks up as though he senses me watching him. His dark eyes lock with mine as he continues his conversation. My fingertips tingle as I make my way over. It’s as though I am in a trance, led only by the glimmer in his eyes as they stay glued to mine.

“Congratulations,” I say as I reach him.

I hold my breath, waiting. For what, I’m not sure. But being near him has my skin buzzing with energy like something incredible is about to happen. Like that moment you reach the peak on a rollercoaster and level out, your stomach lifting in anticipation in that split second before you fly, adrenaline flooding your veins.

Alive.

That’s how I feel. The way he looks at me, the way the cells in my body fizz in response—I can’t keep away even if I wanted to.

His lips curl into a warm smile. “Thank you, Megan.”

The other men he’s talking to look between us and then excuse themselves.

“I’m sorry for leaving suddenly earlier. I felt faint,” I explain.

Because of you, I felt faint because of you. But I can’t say that. Instead, I roll my lips together and glance up at him as warmth blooms in my cheeks.

“Do you feel okay now?” His eyes soften with concern, and he lays a hand on my forearm.

My breath catches in my throat as the touch of his fingertips against my skin sends electricity pulsing through my already sensitive body.

I nod slowly. “I’m fine now, thank you.”

He takes his hand off my arm, and I’m able to breathe again. “Looks like you’re in for a treat tonight.” I gesture toward the gold envelope in his hand.

He raises a brow.

“I didn’t mean… Oh, God.” I cover my eyes with one hand.

He laughs, a warm, easy laugh that breaks the tension. “Relax, Megan. I know what you meant. And yes, it’s always nice to have a surprise. A good one,” he adds.

I shake my head and smile at him. He could have been a sleaze about it and made some lewd comment. But he didn’t. Besides, he doesn’t strike me as the type. He’s too sophisticated. Maybe it’s his age. He must be about forty. Maybe that’s the age men finally grow up and don’t make every comment about sex.

“Thank you for being a gentleman.”

He smiles at me, and my insides feel as though they’re melting.

“Thank you for being such wonderful company, Megan.”

My smile turns into a grin as I relax in his company, and we talk about illustrators again.

I don’t know how much time passes, but this is the perfect evening. Maybe I should consider dating an older man if they’re all this polite.

I listen to Jaxon as he tells me a story about a teenage boy coming to a cookery book signing. The boy stood out like a sore thumb in his ripped jeans and giant hoody amongst all the women there. But he waited patiently in the queue for his turn. When he got to the front, he told the author that her peanut butter cookies were the best thing ever because making them together with his mum had made her smile again, when she’d been sad for a long time. I don’t ask why the mum was so sad, but the shine in Jaxon’s eyes tells me there was a family tragedy.

He talks with so much compassion and empathy. This is the first time I’ve ever felt so at ease. Talking to an educated, respectful man, who doesn’t only think with his dick, is refreshing. There’s no hidden agenda, no dropping his hand too low on my back, no eyes looking at my cleavage.

We are just two adults enjoying a civilised evening together.

It couldn’t be any better.

Two hours later.

“God, Megan! Don’t. You. Dare. Stop,” Jaxon pants.

His grey eyes glitter up at me as I slide down onto him, rolling my hips as I reach his skin and dragging my swollen clit against him.

God, he feels so good inside me. It’s been so long; I was beginning to forget what sex feels like. But then, I’m sure it never felt like this. This is off-the-charts hot. The way he’s looked at me since we came up to his suite, the way he’s touched me; I feel like a goddamn goddess in his arms.

“No way,” I say breathlessly, “no way am I going to stop.”

It feels far too good to contemplate anything other than riding his hard, thick cock right now. A meteor could hit the street outside, and I wouldn’t even falter. The feel of him, stretching me, caressing places inside me, igniting nerve bundles I didn’t even know existed—it’s incredible. Every second since we crashed through the penthouse door has been amazing. I don’t know how we made it out of the lift with all our clothes still on.

“You look so fucking good up there,” Jaxon growls as his large hands palm my breasts, his thumbs dusting over my hard nipples.

“You feel so good,” I murmur as I rotate my hips down onto him again.

A new wave of wetness rushes between us, coating his cock as I pull up and drop back down again, my breath pushed from my lungs as I take him even deeper.

His eyes darken as he watches me. The same way they did downstairs in the lobby. Before I joked that he might get lonely alone in a giant penthouse by himself. Before he asked if I would like to see it, just to admire the artwork that might be hung there. I’ve no idea if there even is any. My eyes haven’t left his from the second we stepped into the lift together. I even rolled the condom down onto him whilst we kissed and grabbed at each other. I just couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait to have him inside me, to explore this complete draw I have to him, like a magnetic pull. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before.

And God, am I glad I chose to explore tonight, for once in my life.

“I’m going to come, I can’t… it’s too—”

With my hands resting on his broad chest, I sink back down onto him and throw my head back. A delighted moan escapes my lips, and I come with a strong shudder. His hands, which are holding my breasts, drop to my hips, and he digs his fingers into my flesh, pulling me up and down on his huge erection twice more. His cock seems to swell inside me as his jaw tenses, and he groans my name, coming hard inside me.

I part my lips, sucking in air and trying to catch my breath as I watch the expression of pure blissful release forming on his handsome face.

“Wow!” He lets out a deep sigh, his chest falling slowly.

I brush a curl away from my eyes as I take in the sight of him beneath me. He looks so relaxed, a serene smile spreading across his face as he gazes up at me. His hands caress the skin over my hipbones as he lets out another deep, satisfied groan.

“Megan…”

The way his voice sighs my name sets warmth blossoming in my chest. It sounds so sensual, so in control… so confident. I’m struck with the realisation that a man like him probably sighs a different name like this every weekend. The way it rolls off his tongue, so naturally… so familiar.

“I don’t normally do things like this,” I say, suddenly more sober and aware of how naked I am, straddling him. Let’s be honest, I barely know him. I just really want to. “I mean, this isn’t what I usually do with men like you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Men like me?”

I lift myself off him and lie down next to him on the bed with my stomach against the crisp cotton sheets. “You know what I mean.”

Jaxon removes the condom and turns to face me, propping his head up on his hand. His face softens as he trails a finger down my back. His touch has my skin tingling with appreciation.

“Do you regret it?” His dark eyes watch me, waiting for my answer.

“No,” I fire back quickly, too quickly.

The smile is back on his face as he strokes a loose tendril away from my eyes. “Good, neither do I. And I intend on doing it again. At least twice more before the night is over.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to stay all night.” I smile, biting my lip as he narrows his eyes at me.

He reaches out to hold my chin in his strong fingers, pulling my lip free of my teeth at the same time.

“Just you try leaving, Megan,” his deep voice whispers.

His eyes are playful as he leans forward and presses his lips against mine. Heat floods my body as my lips part for him of their own accord.

The way my body reacts to him, I can’t stop this even if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life.

His warm, skilled mouth moves to my neck, and I draw in a breath and thread my fingers through his hair. How can one pair of lips bring so much pleasure?

My eyelids flutter closed as I allow myself to become lost, pinned down on a giant bed in a luxury hotel penthouse suite by the sexiest man I’ve ever met. His hard, broad body covers mine, and I wrap my legs around his waist, his skin feeling like fire against mine. Delicious, seductive flames licking at me, drawing me in, firing up something new deep in my core.

This right here… feels like the start of… I don’t know what.

I just know I won’t be the same after tonight.

It’s something.

He’s something.

Something big.