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Free Trade by Lynda Aicher (1)

Chapter One

Shelly Carrigan tossed her name into the bowl with a flick of her wrist, the roulette of possible partners an added enticement to the sensual game. Who would she get tonight?

A scan of the boardroom provided a number of interesting possibilities. Each one could give her something different. Yes, a fuck was a fuck, but no fuck was the same. She’d been with every man in the room at least once, a few of the women too. She wasn’t picky when it came to sexual pleasure, just as long as she left satisfied.

That was the whole point of the Boardroom. The private sex group had been her primary source of sexual release over the last few years as she focused on building her name in the competitive San Francisco real estate market. The proven “not what you know but who” had landed her more deals and exclusive advantages than she could count, including entry into the Boardroom.

Networking, charm and street smarts had pulled her from the scrap pile of wasted potential. Her smile grew as she thought of how far her determination had gotten her. She rubbed elbows with the Bay Area elite, along with the inconspicuously wealthy, on a daily basis. She could name-drop like a pro—if she chose to be that crass, which she didn’t.

The secret of amplifying connections was to keep every single one private. She had a treasure trove of knowledge locked tight behind her lips. Like how the handsome guy across the room had a BDSM dungeon in his basement that he rented out to people in the lifestyle. Or how the studious-looking man at the end of the table had a rooftop fuck nest in Pacific Heights.

“Hey,” Lori said at her side, her smirk containing secrets of her own. “Cute dress.”

Shelly glanced down at the silky baby-doll number she’d purchased for nights like these. “Easy on and off.”

“Sexy too.”

She shrugged off the compliment. Her appearance was part of the image that kept her at the top in a field based on first impressions. Platitudes never reached beneath her insulating shell since she’d learned how fleeting they could be, a life lesson she’d acquired in grade school.

“You look ready to attack,” she commented. Lori possessed a predatory air that could be attributed to her legal profession. Could be, but Shelly doubted it.

Lori flashed a devious grin, which pulled a chuckle from Shelly. “Looks don’t lie.” She had a rougher charm that worked for her. “Truthfully, I have an urge to give a lucky guy the blow job of his life tonight.”

Her voice carried through the room, attracting the interest of many as she folded a piece of paper and dropped it into the bowl. Her sultry appraisal of the men backed up her bold declaration.

Shelly watched the display with a mix of envy and appreciation. She knew how to scramble for what she wanted. She could negotiate amazing deals for her clients and work sixty-hour weeks finding the best properties. She was a master in the art of persuasion, spin and biting her tongue, but stating her sexual wants was outside her skill set. She could smile, react, encourage, even beg, but that was as close as she could come.

There was no explanation for it. She’d tried to be everything Lori was, only to choke on the words. Some would see it as a weakness, and she had a hard time disagreeing with them, especially given the very nature of the Boardroom. She owned her sexuality, and in doing so, she accepted her desire to be...controlled. No, that wasn’t it.

She didn’t want to be told what to do or forced to accept whatever the guy wanted. That wasn’t her kink. Maybe she’d simply never been comfortable enough to make her wishes known. Or maybe she just wanted a man who could read her mind and give her what she wanted without her having to say it.

A sexual mind reader.

She muffled her laugh behind her hand and quickly cleared her throat. God, she really needed the night to start if only to distract her from wishes that were impossible to fulfill.

The Boardroom gave her control over the scenes she signed up for. She could say no to anything, which provided the freedom to explore. After years of discovery, she’d fine-tuned her desires to a range of good, great and outstanding, and there was only one man who consistently reached the outstanding scale without a single direction from her: Drake Hanson.

The air seemed to drain from the room a moment later when Drake strode in on the same intent he tackled life with. Hard by some standards, gruff by others, he took what he wanted, gave where he needed, all while playing by his own rules. A self-made man who’d ridden to success on the internet startup wave by being three steps ahead of his competitors, he continued to challenge norms, staying relevant in a saturated technology market.

She respected that, respected him. Everything he had was due to his own hard work. He wasn’t that different from her on that point.

He greeted the men with firm handshakes, the women with nods accompanied by a side smile. Her breath stuck when he got to her. His chin lifted a notch, his smile falling as a dark heat took over, one that seared her from across the room and left her struggling to respond.

She swallowed the longing that never failed to hit when he was around. He was just another partner. A Boardroom member who came to scenes for a fuck and nothing more. Just like her. Just like everyone in the room.

And she wanted him to fuck her so badly.

He was the reason she’d signed up for the scene tonight. He was the reason she’d participated in so many Boardroom scenes lately. Had he noticed? Caught on to her subtle stalking?

She looked away, unable to play the coy flirtation game so many had mastered, especially within this domain. It wasn’t in her, not with Drake. There was no point, when it would only fuel fantasies she couldn’t embrace.

Sex was on the table, literally. It was illicit, daring and just wrong enough to entice. There was nothing romantic about it, which was another major attraction to most members. She couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in something that would never be.

“Shall we get started?” Trevor James asked as he closed the door to the boardroom. His quick scan took in every player without inflicting a hint of question. As the Boardroom founder, he ran the group as equal parts authoritarian and watchdog. He emptied the contents of the bowl into a black cloth bag. “Each guy draws one name and that’s your partner for the evening. All activities take place in the room, limits are defined between the couples. Interaction with others is up to each person but must be consensual.”

She focused on Trevor, ignoring the presence of Drake in her peripheral vision. Her pussy contracted at the thought of him fucking her hard, fast and with that perfect mix of rough and tender. Could she handle being that close to what she truly wanted and then walking away?

She’d been doing it for months, and each time it was getting harder and harder to keep her distance. Why had she come back?

Because he was the only one who truly satisfied her.

The knot in her stomach mocked her over-simplification of the situation.

They mingled in the same circles, which had allowed them to become friends. His sharp wit was refreshing in the often-boring settings. He’d uncovered her favorite drink, food, sport and getaway as they’d morphed into each other’s social wingmen. He sought nothing in return, except her company, a laugh and a break from expectations. Beneath his abrasive front, he really was charming and kind and...not hers.

Closing in on forty, Drake was the epitome of the eligible bachelor. His reputation as an employer was exemplary, his businesses thriving. He could have any woman he wanted, but he was here instead of married with two kids, a dog and a mansion. Why?

The question was irrelevant and could be applied to every member of the Boardroom, including herself. It still circled her thoughts, setting land mines around her own intentions. What did she want? When had the enticement of the Boardroom faded and the desire for something deeper grown?

Something long-term and exclusive with Drake?

She shoved the pointless thoughts aside. Tonight was about nothing more than sex. The odds of being paired with Drake were long, and that was fine. Good, actually. She could keep her distance while getting off on watching him. It didn’t matter if he was physically fucking someone else, in her mind each hard thrust he made would be filling her.

She would come for Drake—even if he wasn’t the one fucking her.