His Passion (By His Command #4) Read Online Free

figured that.”
    “We have to go back to go forward. Do you
understand that?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Jonathan half smiled. My hands were free so
I stood up and started to buckle my pants. His hands clamped on my
wrist a second later, causing me to jump. I knew it was Jonathan
but even still, I looked up the steps, half expecting to see
someone standing there. Waiting for us. To kill us. To lock us
up.
    The steps were empty.
    “We have to go now,” Jonathan said.
    He took the steps and I followed, trying to
keep my balance, but each step I took I could feel the wetness
between my legs rubbing, a second by second reminder of the sexual
ability of the sexy billionaire taking me along for another one of
his adventures.
    At the bottom of the steps, in the basement,
which would also serve as a private parking garage, Jonathan put
his hand to the door and stopped. He turned and pulled me in close,
letting our bodies touch. We stood in silence for a few seconds, my
breathing heavy, his calm.
    “Don’t trust him,” Jonathan said. “Promise
me.”
    “Trust who?”
    “Trust me,” Jonathan said. “Always.”
    “Of course,” I said. “Always, Mr.
Black.”
    “Good. Just don’t trust him.”
    I opened my mouth and Jonathan shook his
head.
    I didn’t speak, I waited.
    Jonathan pushed on the door and it
opened.
    “And we’re off,” he said. His grip on my
hand tightened. With a growl and hate in his voice, he added, “to see my father…”

-4-
     
    As I sat in the backseat of yet another
black vehicle, this one a small, sleek car, I realized that a good
portion of Jonathan’s life must have been spent traveling. In the
calm roar of the engine, I was able to finally take a moment to
relax and assess myself, Jonathan, and our situation.
    The driver of the car was a built man, with
a thick neck, wide shoulders, tattoos on his knuckles. The font was
thick and I wasn’t able to read what was written. He stared ahead,
focused on the road and nothing else.
    I wanted to ask Jonathan about our
destination but my memory held tight to the sound of his voice when
he spoke before. About his father. I could understand the contempt
for a father and I hoped I would have the chance to understand
Jonathan’s story and even share mine. There were so many ways for
us to become connected, to continue to tie our souls and needs
together over and over, making it impossible to get away from each
other.
    Jonathan had his left elbow on the door with
his chin resting on his open hand. His fingers rubbed his cheek.
The powerful man was deep in thought, and I knew better than to
bother him. And why would I? The sight of Jonathan like this made
my body and heart go wild. Nobody could ever compare. Even his
fingers were defined in their own way… his long fingers, slightly
curled, a small vein running in each one, showing the potential of
his strength without speaking about it.
    I thought about what it must be like to be a
man like Jonathan Black. Traveling the world, managing his
multi-billion dollar operation. In constant control, working along
a variety of fields and investments, all with the purpose of
creating himself more wealth. A billionaire’s passion. As long as I
was included in that passion, I would go to the end of the world
and back.
    And perhaps that’s right where I was
headed.
    Jonathan’s right hand moved towards me,
climbing over my hand and going to my leg. He squeezed and
continued until his fingers were between my legs, touching me. As
his fingers pressed, my body reacted, wishing we were alone and
that I was naked.
    “I won’t lie to you,” he said, still staring
out the window. “I promise you that, Isabella Grace. But I need
your trust.”
    “You have it,” I said. “I swear.”
    “You trust my decisions?”
    I paused. I realized my hesitation and what
it could imply then quickly tried to save myself. “Yes, Mr. Black,
yes.”
    My mind flashed the image of Oliver Rush,
dead on the hotel floor. Did he