House Rules
Book Two
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Cathryn Fox. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Scorched is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition June 2017
To Joanne MacIntyre. A lover of authors. A fan. A bookwhore. And a blogger at BookWhore’s Brothelites. Thank you for all you do for us authors. We appreciate you so much!
Chapter One
Kennedy
I crane my neck and stare at the grand hotel through the rain-streaked cab window—Hotel Royal—and I’m absolutely certain the dossier I’m holding was meant for one of the other girls and not me.
From the backseat of the taxi, my gaze goes from the majestic London hotel to the contents of the dossier on my lap—a duffle bag containing a very sexy, very expensive black lace panty set, matching lace stockings, a couple of cocktail dresses in my size, and two pairs of heels so high I’m sure I’ll end up with a nosebleed. I briefly pinch my eyes shut and shake my head. There must be a mix up, there just has to be. Then again, the dresses are my exact size.
But I would never in a million years buy anything like this for myself. I’m a quiet curator for the Chicago Museum. I prefer comfy underwear and baggy clothes, not an outfit designed for a stripper. Although, that could be the whole point of this, now couldn’t it? Get Kennedy to break out of her shell. Force her to have some much needed fun.
Seriously though, when I, along with a group of best friends, agreed to put our names in a hat during our New Year’s Eve party two years ago, little did I think I’d receive a dossier with such slutty clothes and an invitation to dance at Carleton House—one of London’s most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs.
I grab the embossed card with the information emblazed on the front and turn it over to read Friday Night, 9 p.m. Like I’m really going to show up at the club tomorrow night with next to nothing on my body—or show up at all. I have no idea which one of my girlfriends sent me this dossier—which one sponsored this excursion—but they must have pulled a lot of strings to make it happen. Too bad all their hard work was for nothing.
I groan and punch the clothing deeper into the bag then zip it up. Out of sight, out of mind, right? It’s not that I’m a prude, but no way, no how am I ever putting that outfit on my body and dancing for a bunch of over-privileged, narcissistic men with entitlement issues.
Yeah, sure, we all agreed to the pact, agreed to draw a name, keep it a secret, then on the person’s twenty-fifth birthday send a dossier for an epic adventure—where the words “epic” and “sex” can be interchanged. This package must have been for someone more adventurous than me. Someone who has no problem exposing themselves to a bunch of horny old men.
Nevertheless, the girls certainly don’t need to know I never showed up at Carleton House. I can spin a story as well as the next person and can let them believe I had legendary sex that rocked my world. Not that I would know what that is. The only time my bed rocks is when the L-train goes by.
Then, show up at the club. I dare you!
I shut the under-sexed and overly curious side of myself down and pay the cab driver. He grunts in response, and I grab my luggage and step from the car. London in the fall—the city’s wettest season. Lucky me. Big fat raindrops fall over me as I hike my duffle bag up higher on my shoulder and pull the handle up on my carry-on suitcase. I’m just glad I packed my own clothes—even though it went against the pact. You bring nothing but what your sponsor gives you. I’d be okay with that if I’d been given something decent to wear and a trip to a London museum, or even a concert, not a gentlemen’s club.
I tap my purse, happy I loaded my e-reader with my favorite romance novels, and glance up and down the street. Down the block, on the corner of a brick building, I see the sign for Carleton House, and my heart picks up tempo. The building is old and gorgeous, the history in the structure of more interest to me than the sordid kinds of activities that take place behind those heavy wooden doors.
Turning my back on the bawdy establishment, I step inside the luxurious hotel, and my mouth falls open. The lobby is gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking, and a far cry from my run-down apartment building back home. I check in quickly, my eyes and body tired after traveling all day, and grab a few brochures to leaf through before bed. Might as well take advantage of my free time and take in the sights around London.
The wheels on my old suitcase squeal and draw the attention of everyone around me as I make my way toward the bank of elevators. I lower my head and shadow myself with my long hair. I don’t like to be the center of attention, which once again makes me think the dossier was meant for one of the other girls. No way would any of my friends push me past my comfort zone and expect me to shake my ass on some stage—even if I do take pole-dancing classes to build my core strength.
I picture it for a moment, my body swaying, the center of attention in a room full of men more interested in my nakedness than my intellect. Wouldn’t that be different? Naughty even? Truthfully, no one here knows me. In London, I can be anyone I want to be, even a dancer in a high-end club. A fine shiver moves through me, and I feel a heavy pulse deep between my legs.
Do it already. Step outside your boring life and have some fun for God’s sake!
I blink my eyes to clear the sensuous image, and steal a glance around the lobby as I wait for the elevator—or lift, rather, now that I’m in London. A man plays piano in the corner, and people mill about talking quietly, while others file into the dimly lit bar for a nightcap, or maybe a dirty, sexy, clandestine affair where inhibitions are shed and ropes are used. I gulp. Clandestine affair? Ropes? Honest to God, I read far too many romance novels. One-night stands and hot sex that leads to happily-ever-after does not exist in real life. At least, not for me.
The elevator light pings off, and the doors open. My breath catches in my throat when I come face-to-face—or rather, face-to-chest—with Sean Fraser, the older brother of my best friend, Olivia. The guy I’ve always had a huge crush on and dreamed about over the years. My heart thunders in my ears as I take him in. He’s older now, looking more refined in a dark suit that fits his broad shoulders to perfection. His sun-kissed hair is cut short, his caramel eyes still rich and maple-candy sweet. He smooths a palm over his tie, and I watch, transfixed, wondering what those big hands of his would feel like on my body. Someone shuffles beside me, and my thoughts come crashing back.
What the heck is Sean doing in London? The last I heard he was some stuck-up investment banker in New York. Then again, he probably travels a lot for work. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but he gives me a curt nod, steps around me, and resumes conversation with the man beside him, once again overlooking me. Honest to God, I might as well be a fake plant in the corner for all the attention he gives me.
I stand there shell-shocked for a moment, even though I shouldn’t be. Sean never gave me the time of day when we were younger, always bossed me around like he was my big brother and I was his kid sister, a nuisance who got underfoot. Jerk.
Then again, maybe I’m being too harsh on him. I haven’t seen him in years, and I’m not the same chubby girl I was in my teens. My hair is blond, not mousey brown. I no longer wear braces, or glasses that hide my blue eyes. And Zumba and pole dancing classes have thinned my once-plump body to a lush size eight.
I step onto the lift and stare at his back in the mirror. His steps suddenly slow, and his body shifts, his head turning my way. But before his gaze can land on mine, the doors bang shut, and I suck in a quick breath to refill my oxygen-starved lungs. Is it possible that he did recognize me?
I spin around and quickly press the open button, curious to see if it was me he was turning to see, but when the doors open, he once again has his back to me.
“Do you mind?” an elderly woman who’d stepped on the lift with me asks as she glares at me. “I would like to go to my room.”
“Sorry,” I say, and jump off, the doors sliding shut behind me. I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I weave through the crowd and keep my eyes on Sean as he exits the hotel lobby and pops open a black umbrella. I hurry after him, suitcase and all, and push through the revolving door. Rain pours over me, plastering my hair to my head as I search the crowd. When I finally catch a glimpse of his broad shoulders, I follow him down the sidewalk, keeping a reasonable distance.
What the hell are you doing, Kennedy?
I seriously have no idea, but continue to follow him anyway, not that I’ll know what to do or say if I catch up. He and his friend stop outside Carleton House, and my feet come to a resounding halt. No. Freaking. Way.
Apparently, not all the members are old men. How interesting.
He pauses outside the door and angles his head as he closes his umbrella. People crowd the sidewalk, and he glances around, sorting through the throng until his gaze meets mine—and holds. My knees wobble. Does he know it’s me, annoying Kennedy Lane from his teen years? I mull it over for a second and then decide: no way. Even I wouldn’t recognize this new version of myself. He turns, and it breaks the hold he seems to have over me.
Someone bangs into me and sets me back in motion. Still feeling dizzy from the effect of his stare, I turn and hurry to the hotel, my clothes, hair, and luggage completely drenched as I dart to the elevator and shift restlessly until it opens. God, I hate how I suddenly feel out of sorts. I shouldn’t let it bother me that he didn’t recognize me—that he never wanted me. I just wasn’t his type. Growing up, he hung out with giggling, Barbie-doll girls, and I’m so not like them.
Pushing down the unease climbing into my throat, I get off on my floor and hurry to my room. I flash the key card in front of the electronic lock, and when I step inside my suite, I forget how uncomfortable I am in my wet clothes and glance around.
My God, whichever friend sponsored this adventure certainly didn’t spare any expense. The room is bigger than my entire apartment. I drop my luggage and toss myself on the bed, but as I stare at the ceiling, my thoughts once again travel to Sean.
Did my sponsor know he’d be here, in the same hotel as me? Maybe my friend knew how much I lusted after him, and thought we could have a secret, weekend affair. I shut my eyes and envision myself in Sean’s hotel room, his hard body moving over mine.
A moan crawls out of my throat and my lids flash open. Jesus, stop reading too much into the situation. Running into him was a coincidence, nothing more. My mind is just conjuring up sexy scenarios thanks to all those romance novels I devour. Working diligently to put bossy, stuck-up Sean out of my mind, I unpack, grab a quick shower, pull on my pajamas, and slip between the luxurious sheets.
I reach for my e-reader but can’t focus on the damn words, not with the stupid invitation to the club staring at me from the nightstand—a club Sean obviously frequents. I roll and pick up the embossed card. If I dressed in the slutty clothes and danced at the club, I bet Sean would finally notice me as a woman, not an annoying kid. I scoff. Wouldn’t that be epic—having wild weekend sex with my childhood crush, with ropes involved?
Wait! What?
Even if I might want that, there is no way, no how, that I’d ever walk through the doors of Carleton House and go through with the destination adventure designed specifically for me.
Right?
Chapter Two
Sean
Sitting at a round table with my colleagues, I swallow my scotch and let it burn down my throat. As the men circling me talk business and investment strategies regarding Saturday night’s meeting with Cochrane Industries—a multimillion dollar medical supply company that is merging with a U.S. company—my thoughts are too preoccupied with Kennedy Lane, my kid sister’s best friend, to join in the conversation. It’s damn hard to contribute anything intellectual when all the blood has left my brain and settled down south. Yeah, she’d lost weight, ditched the braces and glasses, but I’d bet my ball sack that it was her on the street.
I gesture to the bartender for another drink, my eyes scanning over the pretty girl dancing on the stage. Carleton House isn’t my regular scene, but my company has a corporate membership, and when I’m in London on business, it seems to be the place where my European counterparts like to conduct meetings—among other things.
Kennedy Lane.
What the hell is she doing here in London, following me down the sidewalk and looking like a drowned cat, no less? Last I heard, she was in Chicago working for a museum not too far from Venture Investment, Inc.—headquarters for the New York branch I call home. I’ve visited the main office numerous times, and whenever I’m in Chicago I always find myself looking for Kennedy. Christ, I’ve even wandered around the museum a time or two, though it went against my best interest. When Kennedy hit sixteen and grew into a beautiful woman, I noticed her, but I was nineteen, and a three-year gap at that age might as well have been a chasm, which meant she was hands-off all the way.
I might not be a cradle robber, but she’s not a kid anymore, right? The sexy curves she’s sporting allude to a very grown-up version of Kennedy—one who has my cock hardening in the worst fucking way.
The bartender delivers my drink, and when I once again look at the pretty girl dancing, I find her staring at me like I’m a fresh slab of meat. My cock thickens and presses against my zipper. But it’s not because the brunette is climbing a pole and eye-fucking me. While I might have taken her up on her implied offer any other night, this time my cock is stirring because of Kennedy. Jesus, just knowing she’s in the same hotel as me is enough to make me hard.
How many fucking times did I abuse myself when she slept over at the house with Olivia, taking my bed when I wasn’t home for the night? Jesus, the scent she used to leave on my sheet. I had to ignore her, treat her like a sister, a damn nuisance, so she’d stop talking to me—staring at me when she didn’t think I was aware. Otherwise I would have lost my shit and dragged her into my room so I could do things to her. Dirty things that fill the thoughts of every teenage boy.
Christ, my father was a minister, and if he ever knew I spent my teenage years fantasizing about sweet little Kennedy he would have forced me to devote months to repenting. But, fuck, one glimpse of her tonight and I feel like that hormonal teen again.
“What do you think, Sean?” Dawson, my European colleague, asks, nodding toward the dancer who is still eyeing me. I’m a keen observer, good at reading a person’s body language, and understanding their needs is part of my job, so I get what she wants from me. A big fucking tip like I left last time. I don’t have a problem with that, really. I think the dancers should get a healthy paycheck for putting up with the likes of us dirty, ruthless bastards. “I think she’s looking to get you alone, my friend,” Dawson adds.
I grin and hold up my glass up for a toast. “Maybe so, but I just got into town and think I’ll take the night off.” Okay, so I have a reputation with the ladies. I’m hard-wired for hard work, and sex is how I let off steam, but I’m seriously getting tired of the kind of girls I attract. Most are more interested in what I have in my wallet than in me. And for God’s sake, it’d be nice to have an actual intellectual conversation occasionally.
“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t hurt to show up at the cocktail party tomorrow night with a pretty little thing on your arm. A fiancée would be even better. You know Cochrane is more likely to invest with us if he thinks you’re a family man. He likes a certain level of risk in his portfolio, but is more likely to trust a guy who understands commitment and self-control.” He takes a sip of his bourbon, lets it slide down his throat, then continues. “You know you have to sell yourself before he’ll climb into bed with us. This job is all about building relationships and gaining client confidence, my friend.”
He’s not telling me anything I don’t know. “I have a shit-ton of commitment and self-control,” I say. Well, mostly. Okay, not always. While I’m ruthless in the bedroom and the boardroom, my sex life and inability to commit shouldn’t have anything to do with business deals.
“Listen, pal,” Dawson says, climbing to his feet and putting a beefy hand on my shoulder. “I’m just giving you the heads-up. Cochrane is a hard-assed businessman and can hire any investment banker he wants to handle his overseas merger. Hell, you’re not the only guy trying to woo his company. If you want the job, and the big fucking bonus that comes with it, you damn well better not give him any loopholes.”
Fuck me.
Dawson is giving me good advice, I know it, but Christ, how the hell am I going to come up with a fake fiancée before Saturday night, just forty-eight hours from now? One who won’t just look pretty on my arm but can hold her own against a tough bastard like Cochrane.
Kennedy.
My gaze goes to the dancing brunette as I mull over the plan taking shape in my mind. I could pay the dancer to accompany me Saturday night. Let her know it’s just a business deal.
“Change of heart?” Dawson asks, his gaze leaving mine to take in the dancer.
“Nope, she’s all yours,” I say, still not sure what the fuck I’m going to do. One thing I do know is I’m not up for a private dance. At least, not from the brunette. Which is bat-shit crazy. Hell must be freezing over for me to turn down a woman.
Dawson rolls a shoulder and slips out of his jacket as he gestures to the manager and pulls out his wallet.
My phone pings and I pull it from my pocket to read the text from my sister.
“Hey, big bro.”
I stare at the phone and debate asking Olivia if she knows why Kennedy is in town, but decide against it. I can’t imagine Olivia would like me showing too much interest in one of her best friends. She knows my reputation and wouldn’t want me hooking up with any of the nice girls she associates with. And Kennedy is a nice girl, the kind of girl a guy brings home to meet his parents—not that my mind is going anywhere near that direction.
“What’s up?” I text back, happy that she and Gio have found each other again and she’s living with him in a Tuscan village.
“How’s London?” she asks.
“Fine.” My fingers swipe over the phone. “Just in a business meeting.”
“Carleton House?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” I say, even though she doesn’t have to ask. I might have been a bossy jerk when we were kids, but I’m protective of her and will do anything she asks, and she damn well knows it.
“Tomorrow night, nine o’clock. Can you be at the club?”
“Sure, why?”
“I have a friend who just joined and will be looking for a friendly face, someone nice to talk to.”
“What’s his name?”
“Oh, gotta go. Gio is calling.”
I stare at the phone, but no more texts come in. Talk about strange. Who the hell is this friend she wants me to entertain, and how the hell will I even recognize him? I power down my phone and shove it back into my pocket, my gaze going to the exit as the meeting ends. The men excuse themselves from the table, all seeking a private dance, and I slip away.
I step outside and look up and down the streets, searching for signs of Kennedy. When my hunt comes up empty, I walk back to the hotel, letting the rain pour over me. Maybe the cold droplets will help cool my heated skin. Or maybe I could find another way to extinguish the fire raging inside me—like go to Kennedy’s room and show her my thoughts are anything but brotherly.
If only she weren’t my kid sister’s best friend.
Chapter Three
Kennedy
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Head spinning, I take a deep breath, my heart racing so hard I’m sure I’m going to pass out. I grip the makeup table in front of me, glance around the changing room, and look at all the beautiful dancers as they apply makeup and style their hair. A hand lands on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Kitten,” Electra—the girl who first introduced herself to me when I entered the establishment—says as she gives me a once-over.
“My name’s not—”
She shakes her head to stop me. “Not here, Kitten. We don’t use real names.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, and shrug. “Kitten is good, I guess.”
“Hear that, Mikey,” she calls out to the big, burly man who I’d handed my summons to earlier. He seemed to know all about me, clearly expecting me tonight. “Her name’s Kitten.”
Mikey nods and Electra angles her head and eyes me. “This is your first time, is it?”
I want to lie, but what’s the point? “That obvious, huh?” I grab a brush and run it through my long blond hair. I don’t have as much makeup on as the others, but I’m pretty sure it’s not my face anyone will be looking at.
Once again, a quiver moves through me, the under-sexed part of me loving this setup.
“Don’t worry. All you have to do is dance, and you’ll be fine.” She looks me over, and I cross my arms to hide myself, completely self-conscious in the sexy outfit I found in my dossier. “The guys are going to love you.”
There is only one guy I want to love me.
Stop it. That’s not the reason you’re here!
As I lecture myself, I call on every ounce of courage I can muster and let myself think about Sean, the real reason I’m following through with this ludicrous adventure. I’m supposed to have legendary sex before returning home, and after giving it much consideration last night, I concluded that it’s damn well time I feel a real man between my legs. And there is only one real man I know—Sean Fraser, the bossy jerk from my childhood.
I just pray he’s out there tonight so I can finally get his attention, and when I do, I’m going to take what I want from him—what I’ve always wanted—and then return to the States. Sean will think he’s in bed with a dancer named Kitten, oblivious to the fact that it’s me, Kennedy Lane, a girl he always considered a nuisance.
“If a man wants a private dance,” Electra says, pulling my thoughts back. “Remember the house rules.” She wags her finger. “No touching.”
“No touching, got it,” I say, even though I have every intention of being touched.
The music changes, and Electra takes my hands and pulls me from my seat. “You’re on, Kitten.”
I stand on stupid heels that are far too high, and gather a breath of courage. I walk to the curtain and peel it open. “Please all welcome Kitten,” Mikey says into a microphone, and I let out the breath I was holding.
Legendary sex, here I come. I hope.
Light spills over me, and the song changes again. I peer into the crowd, but the damn lights are blinding me, and it takes all my concentration just to put one foot in front of the other and make it to the pole without doing a face-plant.
So far so good.
I put my hands on the warm metal and spin around it, and when the lights shift, I glance into the audience. My heart picks up tempo when I see Sean seated at a table alone, dressed impeccably again, a glass in his hand. He’s watching me, his gaze latched on my every move, and for a brief second, I panic. What if he knows it’s me?
He doesn’t, Kennedy. Get it together.
I continue with the routine I learned in class. I don’t think it’s sexy. Hey, it’s meant for core-strengthening, but I’m a half-naked girl on a pole, so I don’t think anyone in the audience cares. Music buzzes through me, and a few murmurs from the crowd reach my ears, but there is only one man who holds my attention, and right now he’s leaning forward, looking at me like he wants to eat me alive.
Yes!
When the music ends, I walk back behind the curtain and another girl takes my place. Electra grins at me. “That was fantastic,” she says. “I bet every guy out there is fighting to get you alone.”
“How does that work, anyway?”
“Whoever bids the most wins.”
Heat sizzles through my veins as I grab a brush and fix my hair. Will Sean bid the most? Then again, will he even bid at all?
“Kitten,” Mikey says. “You’ve got a live one.”
I glance at Electra for explanation. She rubs her thumb and two fingers together. “Big bucks,” she says.
“Follow me,” Mikey says.
I walk down a long hall with the broad man, the walls practically hugging his shoulders as he rocks back and forth on those big stump legs of his. “The men can look but not touch,” he explains as we walk. “There’s a button on the wall inside. Just press it if you need me, but I don’t think you will. The men here know the rules, and none of them will risk losing their membership.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. House rules or not, I don’t think anyone is going to mess with any of the girls if they have to contend with this guy. He unlocks a door, and I step inside.
“How long do I dance?” I ask.
“He hired you for a half hour. When you’re done here, ring the bell and I’ll escort you back.”
I nod, liking how well they care for their women here, but I have no idea if half an hour is a long time or not. Mikey leaves, and I step into the room and catalogue my surroundings. I’m in some sort of glass booth, but the walls don’t go all the way to the ceiling. On the other side of the pane I can make out a single chair facing me, and a door. I feel a moment of disappointment. This setup isn’t conducive to what I have in mind.
But that disappointment quickly segues into a combination of nervousness and excitement when the door slowly opens. Please be Sean. Please be Sean. If it’s not him, no way am I going through with this. The lights in my box brighten as he enters, making it hard for me to see out. Obviously we’re not supposed to be able to identify our clients. I narrow my eyes to take in his tall, athletic frame, dressed in a dark suit that fits his muscles to perfection as he seats himself. He rakes his hair from his face, a familiar childhood movement, and a jolt of lust zaps through me.
While I can’t see his face, I recognize it’s Sean. There is a familiarity about him that I’d know anywhere. My nerves fire, and for a moment, I’m shocked that I’m actually going to go through with this. This is so not like me. Then again, perhaps whoever sent the dossier is trying to kick-start my sex life. It would be wrong to let all their hard work in setting this up go to waste, right?
Yeah, right, Kennedy. This isn’t about your sponsor; this is about you. You want this.
“Hey, Kitten,” Sean says quietly, and my heart jumps into my throat. That sexy voice, deeper than in our teen years, sizzles down my body and settles itself between my thighs. As he draws a desire out in me, I begin to dance to the music.
There is no pole in the room, so I just move in circles, exposing myself to him. I know I might not be model-thin like the girls he went after years ago, but I’m confident in my body and curves. I sway and bend my knees, spreading my legs and sashaying toward the floor. I glance out, and when I feel the weight of his stare, a deep, intense longing, ten years in the making, takes hold.
The music is low—low enough for me to hear him peeling his zipper down. OMG, he’s opening his pants. He’s opening his freaking pants. Does that go against house rules? I have no idea, but what I do know is that he’s about to stroke himself while watching me, and that shit is hot.
I try to breathe, but how is that possible, knowing Sean is freeing his cock and taking it in his hands? It’s probably all kinds of wrong, but it does bolster my confidence to know I’ve finally gotten his attention. Well, Kitten has finally gotten his attention.
Heat pools deep in my belly, and I hear him grunt. Holy shit. I could die just thinking about it—I swear to God it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard—and I wish I had a better view.
His grunts become louder, quicker, and I listen to his palm move over his cock. Feeling bolder than ever before, I turn, press my ass against the glass, and bend forward. A low, tortured sound curls around me, and I smile, loving the way he’s responding. I dance, he groans, and his fist works harder. The legs on his chair scrape, and I think he’s tilting his seat back. A moment later it slams to the floor and he presses his forehead to the glass.
I hear a rustling sound as his breath steams the glass. Is he cleaning himself up? I strain to see, and he stands, tucks his cock back in, zips his pants, and turns. He opens the door and leaves. I stand there breathless, excited…so damn aroused I don’t know what to do with myself. So much for legendary sex. Cripes, talk about a plan backfiring—to a certain extent, anyway. I did manage to get Sean to notice me as a woman. But a hell of a lot of good that did for me.
With equal measures of elation and disappointment, I press the button, and Mikey comes back to collect me. In the change room, I pull my dress on over my still-shaking body, grab my coat, and slip out the back. I need a drink. Or three.
I step outside and let the night air wash over me, although it does little to cool my heated blood. I almost wish it were raining again. Dashing down the sidewalk, I make my way to the bar inside Hotel Royal. Maybe I’ll be able to find a hot guy, take him back to my room, and have sex. It might not be legendary sex, but God, I need something, anything, to ease the heavy ache between my thighs.
I step up to the bar, order a glass of wine, and grab a private table in the corner so I can collect my thoughts. I shed my coat, and with my body still on fire, I scan the room from the dark corner, take in the patrons, and make eye contact with a few men. Picking up a random guy for sex isn’t my thing, but I’m doing all kinds of things out of the ordinary today, aren’t I?
A large shadow blocks my view, and my heart jumps as my glance slides up the hottest guy I know. My gaze locks with caramel eyes, and I suddenly can’t breathe.
“This seat taken?” he asks.
I try for normal, a difficult task considering this man just masturbated while I danced for him. “No,” I say, and take a big gulp of my drink. I wave my hand toward the seat. “Help yourself, Mr.…” I purposely leave his name off. After all, I’m not supposed to know him.
“Sean,” he says, exuding raw power, raw passion, as he lowers himself into the seat. “Sean Fraser.” There is a slight angle to his head, and his eyes narrow, curious, as he looks me over. I feel a moment of panic, praying to God he doesn’t know it’s me.
“Nice to meet you, Sean. In London on business?” I ask.
He quirks a smile, looking like every sexual fantasy I ever had. “That obvious, huh?” Shifting closer, he leans in toward me, and his scent is enough to melt my clothes, what little I’m wearing. The clients the girls dance for are supposed to be anonymous, but something tells me he knows I know.
“Tell me, Kitten,” he says, “was there more going on in that booth than just you dancing for me?”
Holy Jesus, way to get right to the point.
My stomach flutters. “What…what do you mean?” I ask.
“I think you liked it when I stroked my cock.” Raw hunger flares in his eyes. “I think you wanted to watch, maybe stroke it for me.”
Flames shoot through me, and I’m hardly able to believe how direct and bold Sean is being.
“I––no touching––house rules.”
He looks around the room, his glance flitting over the piano player and the couples dancing before zeroing back in on me. “Yeah, but we’re not in the house anymore, are we?”
I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip and his gaze drops to take in the movement. “No, we’re not.”
“So tell me, did you need it just as bad as I did, or am I reading this situation all wrong?”
I go still. Am I really having this conversation with Sean? “I…I…” I fumble, unable to form a coherent thought.
He leans closer, and beneath the table, his hand lands on my thigh and toys with the lace stockings I’m still wearing. He pushes up my dress, the slit exposing my right leg. He might as well be stroking the bundle of nerves throbbing between my thighs, because I’m sure I’m about to orgasm.
“How about I find out myself,” he says, not asking but telling, a feral intensity about him that I’ve never seen before. He’s going to freaking eat me alive. A flurry of excitement races through me.
I want to stop him, say no, but instead find myself widening my legs because, yeah, I want him to take me. His grin is so cocky; I don’t know whether I want to kiss it or smack it off his face. I should put a stop to this. He’s practically accosting me here in the bar, touching without permission—then again, maybe the widening of my legs was all the permission he needed. And seriously, am I going to let this opportunity pass me by? I’m in London on a quest for sex, and Sean is the perfect man to give it to me.
He widens my thighs even more, and his fingers climb higher. I turn my head away, hot, tight need spearing through me. Good God, what if someone is peering into our dark corner and watching us? My pulse thuds, and I can’t tell for certain whether that’s from excitement or fear.
“Look at me, Kitten.”
I turn back to him, and his eyes are piercing, holding me captive as they lock on mine. I want to whimper, squirm, beg him to touch me already, but the sound will draw attention, I’m sure. One look at the two of us and it’d be easy to tell what Sean is doing beneath the table.
A moan I have no control over crawls out of my throat.
Oh God, in only a few short hours I’ve turned from a straight-laced museum curator to a kinky dancer with fetishes. Did the bartender put something in my drink?
“Mmm,” he says, his thumb brushing my sex, his breath scorching my face. “Very hot.” He puts his mouth next to my ear, the heat of his breath caressing the shell. “I bet you’re wet, too.”
I gulp, wanting nothing more than for him to slide a hand into my panties and find out. Before I can respond, he stands and holds his hand out to me. “How about a dance?”
His hand swallows mine whole as I reach for him, and he lifts me from my chair. My body collides with his, and his cock presses into my stomach. My eyes widen, and he just gives me an unapologetic grin in response, no modesty or constraint—bold as hell.
A shiver races through me.
His scent curls around me as he guides me to the small dance floor and pulls me into his arms. He’s so tall I have to crane my neck to see him, and when our gazes lock, I feel like he has me under some sort of spell.
A warm arm slides around my back and he pulls me close. “So what about you?” he asks. “What brings you to London?”
I grew up in New York. My accent has given me away. “Business,” I say, a partial truth. I’m in the business of seeking out legendary sex, but he doesn’t have to know that. Let him think I’m here in London to dance at his club.
“You’re staying at this hotel?”
“Yes. It’s close to work. But I’m looking for another place to lay my head.” Again, not a lie. I am looking for another place to sleep—Sean’s bed.
“Hmm.”
“What.”
“Will you be here tomorrow night?”
“Yes,” I answer. What is he up to? What is he getting at?
“I have a proposition for you.”
At the word proposition, hot lust floods me. I want whatever he has in mind, whatever he’s offering, but try to play it cool by asking, “What might that be?”
“I’m here on business, and I need a girl.”
I need a girl.
With my breath far choppier than I would have liked, I ask, “What do you need a girl for?”
“To pretend to be my fiancée.”
My head comes back. A fake fiancée? What the hell? That’s the last thing I expected him to say.
“You see, I have to attend a cocktail party tomorrow night. It’s important the client thinks I’m settled. The best way for me to convince him I’m no longer a guy who fucks random women is to have a fiancée on my arm.”
Holy God, his dirty mouth is doing the most ridiculous things to me.
“What do you say?” He runs his fingers along my nape, and I visibly quiver.
“So this deal,” I begin, a measure of disappointment sitting in my gut. “It’s just about me pretending to be your fiancée tomorrow night, nothing more.”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
“Oh? Then, what exactly would you say?”
“I’d say it’s about fucking, too, Kitten.”
Holy cripes, Sean’s dad might be a minister, but honest to God, this man is a dirty-talking bad boy, a sinner all the way. I think I’m in love.
I try to present boredom. “What’s in it for me?” I ask, like the sex he’s offering doesn’t quite cut it. Oh, but it does. It does so much my insides are in chaos and my entire body is ready to go up in a burst of flames.
A devilish glint dances in his eyes, and my pulse pounds in my throat. “We can negotiate it.”
“I’m a pretty good negotiator,” I say. I’m not.
“Yeah, me too. I’m an investment banker. I negotiate. It’s what I do. And I’m damn good at it.”
“Sounds like a guy who always gets his way.”
“That’s right. So, what will it take, Kitten?”
Me, in your bed.
“Name your price.”
“Are you suggesting you’ll pay me to fuck you?” I square my shoulders. “I’m not a hooker.”
He grins, and my toes curl in my ridiculously high heels. “No, I’m going to pay you a dollar amount to attend a function with me. The fucking is just a benefit of the pretend engagement. And forget about house rules. Only my rules apply when you’re in my bed.”
His rules. The guy didn’t look or act like any rules applied to him.
Halle-freaking-lujah!
His fingers slide down my back, brushing along the zipper. “I know you like that idea.”
I lift my chin, a feeble attempt at dignity, even though he’s right—I do like that idea. In fact, all I want to do is drop to the floor and spread my legs for the guy I’d been crushing on since my teenage years. “Really? How do you know that?”
His gaze moves over me, undressing me with his eyes. The slow, leisurely inspection, combined with the heat in his eyes, suggests he’s considering every depraved activity he’d like to do to me. My breath grows quicker, my nipples swelling to the point of pain.
“Because, Kitten”—he bends his knees and his cock presses against my sex—“you want this. I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your body.”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
His gaze moves over mine, and something dark flashes in his eyes, something that tells me he’s not a man to be played with. “Yes or no?” he asks.
Jesus, it’s been a long time since I’ve been around Sean. He was always bossy, but now he’s a direct, straight-shooting, right-to-the-point kind of guy.
I try for casual. “Well…I suppose I could help out with the function. I really don’t have any plans for the weekend.”
“And the fucking?” I open my mouth, but he presses his finger to my lips to stop me. “Before you answer, you should be warned, though.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, forcing his way inside. “I might just destroy this pretty mouth of yours with my cock. Ever since you climbed on stage, all I’ve thought about is having these sweet lips wrapped around me.
Oh. My. God.
Chapter Four
Sean
I have no idea what kind of game Kennedy is playing. I only know that she’s playing one and it involves me. When she appeared on stage at nine sharp—looking like she’d just been dipped in sin—two things became glaringly apparent. One, she’s not acting like the innocent I remember, and two, my sister is somehow involved in this setup. Which means sexy Kennedy Lane, who makes my balls fucking ache, is no longer off-limits.
I still don’t know why she’s pretending to be someone else, or why she thinks I don’t recognize her. I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually. But right now, as she walks ahead of me and my gaze slides down her back to settle on her lush ass, there is another bottom I’m more interested in exploring.
A savage, hungry growl rumbles in the depths of my throat as I take in her curves, the sway of her body as she goes back to the table to collect her jacket. She takes a sip of her wine, and when she brushes her tongue over her bottom lip again, my cock throbs and something dark stirs inside me. Jesus, I’m going to fucking destroy her.
I look her over as she turns back to me, my mind’s eye tracking the path my tongue will take. I’m going to eat every inch of her and leave her spent and bruised come morning. Her blue eyes widen, a hint of unease, but everything about her says she wants this—wants me.
Heat flares through me and my balls constrict as I slip my hand around her waist and guide her to the elevators. She keeps casting me quick glances, and it feels like an eternity as we wait for the doors to open. When they do, I usher her on, anxious to have her alone. An elderly couple slips in beside us. Too bad. I might have taken her right here against the back mirror.
“Lovely evening,” the gentleman says. I smooth my hand over my tie, an effort to present composure as arousal burns through me.
“Great night,” I say, and pull Kennedy against me to hide my erection. It jabs her waist, and her little intake of breath makes me smile.
If she were as bold as she’s pretending to be, no way would she gasp at my hard cock pressing against her. In fact, she might have rubbed against it, teased me a little, the way she was trying to tease me in the booth. Fuck, why does the idea of a good girl wanting to play bad turn me on even more? I have no idea, but what I do know is if she wants bad, she came to the right guy.
I place my hand on her stomach, and she quivers as I splay my fingers. Sure, there is a couple beside us, but as they stare at the number pad, counting the floors as they slip by, I let my hand glide downward, lightly brushing over her pelvis.
Her breathing changes, becomes erratic, and I like teasing her, like that innocent pink flush on her cheeks. I can feel her heat reach out to me and can practically smell her arousal. Sweet fucking spun sugar, like those damn candy hearts she used to devour when she was a kid.
Be Mine.
I still remember her giving me that one when she was sixteen—when she and Olivia were secretly playing their favorite game of Truth or Dare. I knew everything those two did. Just like I knew how upset she was when she couldn’t get tickets to see her favorite British band, Random Nation. Olivia and I were going—we’d saved all summer, and the only way our father would let me go was if I took my kid sister. But despite all the babysitting Kennedy did, she didn’t have enough money for the overinflated ticket price. Christ, I worked extra hours at the coffee shop that summer, saving every goddamn tip I made. In the end I had enough money, but the fucking concert was sold out by the time I tried to get her a ticket. Not that she knew any of that. The last thing I wanted to do was give her the wrong impression. Which was why when she handed me that stupid Be Mine candy, I tossed it into my mouth and laughed at her, treating her like she was a stupid kid. She ran away, embarrassed. But it was either that or follow through with every depraved activity I wanted to do with her.
But tonight…tonight I will be hers and she’ll be mine, and I plan to get my fucking fill of her once and for all. Tomorrow night she’ll help me out at the cocktail party, and on Sunday life will go back to normal. Hopefully that normal will include Cochrane as a new client.
The elevator stops on my floor, and I slide my arm around her back, resting it at the sweet swell of her ass, and guide her off. Her steps slow, and I pray to fuck she isn’t having second thoughts. Fifty hand-jobs won’t be enough to get me through the night if she changes her mind.
“Kitten?” I ask, pulling my key card from my pocket. “Everything okay?” I want her certain. I want to fuck the hell out of her, but I won’t lay my hand on her if she’s not game.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice stroking my cock and flaring the need inside me.
“You good?”
“No one can know about this,” she begins. “I’m not supposed to sleep with the customers.”
Since I’m not really her customer—because she’s not really a dancer at Carleton House—I’m not sure why she doesn’t want anyone to know about us, or what else she is hiding, but I’ll play along for now. “My lips are sealed.”
“This is just a one-time thing,” she adds.
“One time,” I agree, and I flash the key card over the lock. The light turns green, and I push open the door and wave my hand for her to enter.
“Nice place,” she says as she glances around my penthouse suite.
“Nice indeed,” I say, my voice deeper than moments before as my gaze slides to her lush ass—one I definitely plan to spank. She spins, and when she faces me, I capture both her hands, slip them around her back, and hold them there with one of mine. “Tell me what you were thinking about,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Her voice is wavering, and I like that she’s rattled, like that I can do that to her.
“When I was rubbing my cock, thinking about driving it into this pretty mouth of yours, what was going through your mind?”
Her head drops, her long hair shadowing her expression. “I––” she begins, then shuts her mouth. But I’ll have none of that. Tonight, we’re going to fuck and fuck hard, and I want to know every dirty thought she has, every little thing she wants done to her.
“Tell me.”
“I was thinking…”
I cup her chin and angle it so she’s forced to look at me. “What?”
“That I wished I could see what you were doing.”
Hmmm, not quite what I expected her to say, but it’s definitely something I can work with. “I can make that happen. As long as I get the same in return.”
Her chest heaves, those creamy white breasts of hers rising and falling with an innocence I can’t wait to exploit.
“What do you mean?”
I hold both of her wrists in my palm, and run my free hand down the front of her body until I reach her sex. Backing her up, I press her to the wall and cup her hot mound. “This,” I say. “Tonight, this is mine. I’m going to do whatever I want with it, and if I want you to touch yourself, to spread your sweet lips wide so I can see every inch of you, you’ll do it.”
“But—”
I press my finger to her lips. “You’re in my territory now, Kitten. This is my playground, and you’re my toy. I get to play with you any way I want. Only my rules apply here.” Heat flashes in her eyes, and I smirk at the raw need emanating from her body.
I lower my head and capture her mouth. My tongue seeks entrance, and she leans into me. Her mouth is soft, so goddamn soft, her body so pliable in my arms, it’s like she’s never been touched or kissed before. Then again, before tonight, before I have my way with her, it’ll be like she’s never really been fucked.
Her tongue flicks across mine, her taste so sweet it just about drives me insane. I need to have her. All of her. Now. After a good, hard kiss to mark her as mine for the night, I step back. My gaze never leaves hers as I tug on my tie. She watches me carefully, her eyes wide, wanting. I catch the way her mouth drops open, the way she’s rubbing her wrists together, a telltale sign I bet she doesn’t even know she’s sending. Christ, little Kennedy Lane is such an easy read, but I’d bet my next paycheck she’s never been tied up in her entire life—no matter how much she wants to be.
Time to fix that.
“On the bed, hands behind your back.” I give her a little nudge to set her in motion, and she hurries across the room and sinks onto the bed. I take in her posture, the rapid-fire pulse on her neck. “Panties off.”
“Sean,” she says, my name coming out on a breathy whisper.
“Yeah, Kitten?” I ask slowly.
Her entire body is practically vibrating. “I…nothing.” She lifts her backside from the bed, reaches under her dress, and removes her panties. She’s about to kick off her shoes to make the removal easier, but I shake my head.
“Shoes stay.”
She works the panties past the high heels, tosses them on the floor, and lowers herself again. I take a moment to look at her. How did I get so fucking lucky? A sweet innocent all dressed up in sin and just waiting for me to make her feel good. Motherfucker. I swear to God I must have done something right in a previous life.
I step up to her and push her hair from her shoulders so I can see that pretty mouth of hers. I can’t wait to fuck it. As I admire her, she stares up at me, her eyes wide, like she’s holding her breath and counting down the seconds until I touch her.
“Breathe,” I say.
She sucks in air, and the desire I feel for her rocks me to the core. How many fucking years have I dreamed about this exact scenario? Kennedy Lane, mine to do with as I please. Sweet Jesus. I take a second to savor the moment, savor her before I strip her naked and slide my fingers into her slick core.
“Sean,” she pleads, her eyes flicking shut.
I angle my head, take in her quivering body. “Look at me.” Her lids flutter open, and I grip her hair, pulling on it gently so her head lifts. “Do you even have any idea what you’re begging for, Kitten?”
“Yes…no. I don’t know.”
My gaze drops to her parted lips, all wet and ready for me. “Could it be that you want your mouth on my cock?” I push my finger between her lips to spread them. “Want to fuck me with this hot, tight hole until I come?”
A little cry catches in her throat. “I think so,” she murmurs.
“You want my cum, don’t you? You’re a naughty little girl who wants every drop, and you don’t care how you get it—in your mouth or in your pussy.”
“Sean,” she hisses out. Christ, what is it about the way she says my name that turns me on so much?
“Then again, maybe what you really want is my tongue on your body. Maybe you want me to lick those hard nipples poking through your bra, or could it be that you want me to bury my mouth between your legs and eat at you until you come all over my face. Could that be it?”
The pink on her cheeks darkens like a goddam confession, as her nipples grow so hard I’m sure they’re going to cut through the lace holding them back. My fingers itch to touch those lush breasts, to roll those hard buds around in my mouth until she’s screaming my name.
Now that I have her right where I want her, I continue. “Or maybe you want me to tie your hands together, limit your movement while I drive my cock inside you so hard and deep you’ll never walk the same again.”
“Oh. My. God.” She breathes out.
“Better yet…” I brush my thumb over her mouth.
“What?” she asks.
“I’m going to do all three.” I wait for a second, examine her responses, then say, “Yeah, you want it all. You want every little bit of that because you’re a greedy little girl, aren’t you?”
A cry slips from her lips as she tosses her head back. “Yes,” she answers.
Good enough for me. I grip her chin, squeezing lightly until she opens her mouth for me. “This fucking mouth. As much as I want to hear it scream my name, I want my cock in it more.”
I bend forward and attack her lips, my tongue seeking entrance, wetting her pretty mouth even more to prepare it for my cock. She kisses me back, and our tongues tangle. Fuck, she’s a good kisser. So good I don’t want to stop. If I didn’t have other things I need to do to her—need her to do to me—I could spend the night with my mouth on hers and be as happy as fuck.
“Lift your dress and open your legs. I want you spread wide when you suck my cock.”
She inches her legs open, and I glimpse her hot, pink lips glistening in the lamplight. Goddammit, I can’t wait to lick her, make her come hard. I want to give it to her so fucking good that she’ll forget she’s putting on an act. But I’m going to make her wait a bit for it. If she wants to play a game with me, I can damn well play one with her, too.
I grab my tie and shackle her wrists behind her back, keeping the knot loose enough that she can get out if she needs to, even though her eyes and body language tell me this is exactly what she wants. Her warm breath flutters across my face as I lean over her. “Keep your hands here. You’re going to get me off with your mouth only.”
I step back, rip into my pants, and kick them off. As I expose my cock, the color in her cheeks darkens. I take my cock into my hand and stroke the long length of it. Hot blood fills my veins, and I throb. It feels good, but her mouth is going to feel better. “So this is what you wanted to see?”
She nods, her mouth opening and closing like she wants to say something but can’t. I kind of dig the way she’s looking at my cock—like she seriously wants a taste. Who am I to disappoint her? Although, I’m a bit worried that as soon as her hot mouth takes me deep, I might just erupt down the back of her throat. My cock grows impossibly thicker, and I’m sure I’ve never been so hard in my life.
I move back into her personal space until her mouth is poised at my cock. “Open wide,” I say, and run my thumb along her wet bottom lip. Christ, she looks so fucking hot I’m about to shoot off before she even touches me. She obliges, and I push my thumb into her mouth and shake my head. “You think my cock is going to fit in here?”
She whimpers and shifts on the bed like she’s struggling with the bind, but I know she likes it. As much as I want to feel her soft hands on me, touching my body and stroking my cock, this time I’ll keep her tied because it seems to be part of the fantasy she’s built up in her head. Next time will be different.
Next time?
Yeah, who am I trying to kid? There’s going to be a next time. One time is so not going to cut it after waiting an eternity for this, and we still have the whole weekend to play.
I slide my crown into her mouth, and her lips close around me. I rock my hips, giving her an inch at a time. Fuck, that feels good. I hold the back of her head as she swallows me, her mouth so wet and hot that I moan loudly. That seems to urge her on. Her head bobs, and I follow the motion with my hands until I hit the back of her throat and she chokes a little. She pulls back and a cry slips from her lips, one of pleasure not pain, and it tells me so much about her.
“Try harder,” I command in a soft voice, and her body vibrates. I grin at her reactions. Christ, who knew we’d make such a great team in the bedroom. I like giving orders and she likes taking them. She relaxes her throat, and I slide in deeper. I’m practically halfway down her damn throat, my cock stretching her neck. She’s going to be rewarded for this. “Yeah, Kitten. You’re so good at that.”
Tenderness moves through me, and I inch out to give her air, knowing she’s taken me far too deep as it is. She licks my crown then runs her tongue over the length of me. I grab my balls, and she dips her head lower to suck one into her mouth. Oh, shit. My cock throbs as she licks, and I grip her hair.
“Put my cock in your mouth,” I order.
She takes me back in, and my blood pumps faster as I let go and spurt down her throat. My heart squeezes as I look at her happily drinking me in. She’s so fucking good, trying so hard to be bad, that I want nothing more than to please her.
I stop pumping and inch out. I brush my thumb over her mouth then wipe the wetness on my leg. “Come here, Kitten.” I pull her to her feet, and her dress falls back to her thighs. I touch the material, dip my finger under the hem. Using a soft touch, I slide up her inner thigh until I reach her wet sex.
“You’re soaked,” I murmur, and lightly brush my thumb over her clit. The heat of her skin is almost more than I can take.
“Sean,” she whispers as her body begs for relief. “Oooh.”
I apply a bit more pressure, pinching the tip, then run my finger down her slick folds. She wiggles slightly, and deciding she’s had enough torture, I push my finger all the way inside her tight hole.
“Yes,” she cries, rubbing up against me like a…well, like a kitten.
I pull out only to push back in again, and her legs are so shaky it’s a wonder she can still stand. I remove my finger and she groans in disappointment, but it turns to a moan when I reach behind her back and unzip the dress that is totally in my way. I remove the tie from her hands and toss it over my shoulder. She wiggles slightly and the dress falls to her feet.
As she faces me in nothing but a bra and high heels, looking like a sex kitten, I take a long moment to just drink in the sight, to memorize it so I can whack off to it when this weekend comes to an end. Her teeth rake over her bottom lip as I take my sweet time looking at her, and in turn she gazes the length of me, and a little gasp catches in her throat when she sees my cock hardening all over again. Yeah, that’s what she does to me.
“Turn,” I say.
She spins on those ridiculous high heels, her sweet ass aimed my way. I unhook her bra, let it fall to the floor, and slide my hands around her ribcage. I brush the underside of her breasts, then take her nipples between my fingers and rub. I nudge her a little, until her knees hit the bed.
“This ass,” I say. “It’s mine.” I pull my hand back, and with my fingers splayed wide, give a little slap. She gasps, and I rub the sting my big palm leaves behind. But when she wiggles, I whack her again, only this time I add a bit more strength.
“Yes,” she cries out.
I pull the tie from my shoulder and loop it around her hands again, a little tighter this time. I want her to know she’s restrained, that she’s my toy, under my command. She cries out in bliss, and I press my mouth to the shell of her ear. “That’s just the start of what you’re going to get for shaking your ass at me tonight.”
I push a knee between her legs and spread them wide, then nudge her forward until her shoulders are on the bed. I look at my handiwork, and when I see her ass in the air, her sweet pussy wide open, I nearly sob with pleasure.
I step back in to her and give her another slap, and she whispers my name. I drop to my knees and bury my face between her legs. The second I taste her sweetness, pure lust fills me, and the need to bury myself in her balls deep strips away my ability to think with any sort of clarity. Lust provoking me, I probe her with my tongue, opening her up and exploring her deep. She pushes back, rubbing herself on my face, and my cock grows so hard a shudder races through me.
I steal a quick glance at her. Her upper body is moving, her breasts pushing against the soft bedding as her hair spills over her shoulders. Fuck, she’s sexy. Returning my focus to the heat between her legs, I lick her again and run circles around her swollen clit. I shove a finger into her, and her muscles quake. She’s so damn close, but I don’t want her to come just yet. I need a deeper, more thorough taste first.
It’s fucking insane how much I want her.
I pull my finger out and replace it with my tongue, licking and fucking her bare sex until she’s nothing but a quivering mess.
“Look at you, all hot and desperate to come,” I say, breathing the words over her pussy. I grip her thighs and squeeze, my fingers leaving little red marks as I widened her even more. Her pussy spreads open and I push two fingers inside. She bucks against me, and with my other hand I stroke her clit.
Jesus, she’s really something.
“Oh, yes,” she moans, and just like that, she comes all over me. I keep my fingers inside, giving her the length of them to clench down on, and once the tremors subside, I push my face between her legs. Honest to fuck, I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.
I grab my pants, pull out a condom, and quickly roll it on. With her ass still in the air, I hold her hips for leverage and push my cock into her. I drive in so hard and deep she gasps and grips the tie binding her hands. My heart misses a beat as I look at her, feel her squeeze around me.
Un-fucking-believable, and way better than any juvenile fantasy I’ve ever had.
“Your pussy is so fucking hot and tight, Kitten. It feels so good around my cock that I might not ever take it out.”
She glances at me over her shoulder, and the sweet scent of her shampoo reaches my nose and damn near does me in. It’s all I can do to hang on. My heart thunders in my ears as I strive for a measure of control. What the fuck? I’ve never lost control before. I glance down to watch the way my cock slides in and out of her. I push and grind deep, then pull out again.
She begins to pant and rear back harder to meet my every thrust. As she moves with me, I grab one shoulder to hold her down and slip the other hand between her legs to stroke her clit. She whimpers and moves with me, pushing against me and massaging my cock with her tight pussy. Fuck, I could get used to this.
Careful, Sean, it’s just a weekend fling.
The second I apply more pressure to her clit, her muscles squeeze my cock so hard the room fades to black. “Fuck, yes,” I groan.
As her pleasure resonates through me, my cock throbs inside her, and on her last clench, I throw my head back and let go, wishing I didn’t have a damn condom on because I want all my cum inside her. I fall over her, lost in a fog of pleasure, and work to catch my breath as I ride out the pulses.
Talk about rocking my fucking world.
“Sean,” she whispers, and I shift to the side so I’m not crushing her. I remove the condom, wrap it in a tissue, and drop it into the waste can. Then I run my hand down her back, watching little goose bumps form as I free her hands. I roll her and catch a warm, sexy, sated look in her eyes when they meet mine. I might not be a religious man like my father, but as she looks at me, a miracle happens between my legs.
She bites her bottom lip and glances down at my cock with renewed interest. “Oh,” she says, her lashes fluttering innocently. With her hands free, she reaches out and gathers my hard appendage in her palms, stroking lightly as I grow.
“Yeah. Oh,” I respond, and reposition her in the bed. I fall over her, my hands going to her face as my mouth crashes down on hers again. The woman is fucking addictive, and I plan to have my way with her again—all weekend, really—even though we agreed on a one-shot deal. Now, how to convince her?
Chapter Five
Kennedy
Oh. My. God.
I’ve heard the term fucked silly before, but until last night, I had no idea what it meant. Now, I do, because instead of putting sugar in my coffee, I grabbed the salt packet and added it. But I don’t care that Sean fucked me senseless and I’m messing up the most menial task. Zero brain cells this morning is a small price for the three orgasms he gave me last night. Talk about epic sex. If only I could wipe the stupid smile off my face.
Honestly, I can’t freaking believe he tied my hands—spanked me, even. I never expected that. But holy hell, it was hot.
I’d sneaked out in the middle of the night after he fell asleep. If I know what’s good for me, I’ll jump on a plane today and get the hell out of London while the getting’s good. Any more time with him and it’s quite possible I could want more. But heck, we agreed to a one-night affair, and he doesn’t know who I am, anyway.
I gesture to the waiter for a fresh cup of coffee and peruse the brochures I’d grabbed from the front lobby. But in my peripheral vision, I spot Sean and the man he was with the day I arrived entering the hotel’s dining room. Heat moves through me as his gaze slides over mine, and when his mouth quirks in a smile and he runs his hand down his tie, I quiver deep between my legs.
Oh God, who do you think you’re kidding, Kennedy? You do want more.
Yeah, I should flee, leave with the great memories I have before I do something stupid, like fall for him. But I promised him I’d go to the cocktail party tonight, and while I have no plans to take his money, this is Sean and I want to help him out—even though he was a bossy jerk when we were young.
He’s still bossy, but damned if it doesn’t work on him now. My mind rushes back to all the orgasms I had last night, the greedy way he took command of me, and there is nothing I can do to stop my body from quivering.
Whichever girlfriend set this adventure up for me, I’m going to owe her big time. Next month is Reese’s birthday, and I drew her name that fateful night two years ago. I’m going to have to think long and hard to give her an epic adventure. Although I’m sure nothing could ever stack up to mine.
As I mull that over, the waiter brings my coffee and Sean walks by my table. His warm scent overrides the fresh java and reaches my nostrils. I breathe him in and look up to find his gaze still locked on mine. Only this time he’s not smirking. No, he’s glaring at me like he’s going to give me another spanking. A good, hard one this time.
What the hell?
“Excuse me,” he says to the guy he’s with, who continues to make his way through the dining room as Sean stops at my table.
“Kitten,” he says through clenched teeth. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Having coffee.”
His nostrils flare, anger lighting his eyes. “That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, as my insides flutter with excitement at the dark, warning tone in his voice.
“You’re not to get out of my bed unless I say so. My territory, my rules, remember? You sneaking out wasn’t part of the deal. I’m pissed off, Kitten, and you’re going to pay for that.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“Now you do, which means we need to rectify this.”
“How will we do that?”
“Tonight. You. Back in my bed. You don’t leave until I tell you to. If I must tie you down tight to force you to stay, I will.”
Oh my God, yes!
“It was just supposed to be a one-time thing,” I say, pretending to be calm and collected even though I’m anything but. My entire body is on fire, the hot spot between my legs urging me to head back to his bed right freaking now.
“And now it’s a two-time thing.”
“You’re kind of bossy. What makes you think you can just change the terms now?”
“You want to negotiate, Kitten? We’ll negotiate. What will it take for me to get you back into my bed, short of putting you over my shoulder and carrying you there like a fucking caveman?”
I gasp. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
I steal a quick glance around the room and open my mouth, but I have no idea what to say. Of course I want what he’s offering, but damn, another night with Sean will be emotional suicide at best. The truth is I’ve been in love with the jerk since I was a kid, and seeing him again brought all those old feelings to the surface. It’s no wonder I can’t seem to have relationships with other men, can’t find the sexual satisfaction I’m looking for. I think I’ve been holding out for Sean all these years.
Great. Just flipping great.
“Tell me what you want?” he says.
You.
“I have everything I want.”
Liar.
“Fine, then. This isn’t about you. It’s about me, and what you owe me.”
I lift my cup to my mouth and hold it there. “What could I possible owe you?”
“I rubbed my cock for you, remember? You said that’s what you wanted to see when you were in the booth, so I gave you what you wanted.”
My cup clatters on the saucer as I drop it. “Sean,” I hiss out, and shoot a glance around to see if anyone has overheard him. He doesn’t seem to care, though. “I remember,” I whisper, hoping he’ll lower his voice to meet mine, but he doesn’t.
“I told you I’d do that if I got the same in return. We did a lot of things last night, Kitten, but not once do I recall you playing with yourself for me.”
“So, that’s all it is, then?” Please don’t let it be all it is. Please don’t let it be all it is. “You just want to see me play with myself. Is that what this is about?”
“Yeah, it’s about that. But it’s about fucking, too. It’s always about the fucking, Kitten.”
Needing to wet my dry throat so I can speak, I take a sip of my coffee. As I swallow, he leans in and presses his hot mouth to my ear. “I want you to spread that sweet pussy and rub your clit for me. Better yet, I’ll order in some toys and you can show me how you get off when you’re alone. Hell, maybe I’ll even get one of the small vibrators and make you wear it to the cocktail party tonight.”
I sit there staring at him, a mouthful of coffee burning my tongue, but I can’t seem to swallow as heat bombards me. He grins like he’s getting off on knowing how much he’s torturing me—how much he’s going to punish me—then says, “I’ll pick you up in your room at six sharp. We’ll go to the cocktail party, we’ll play nice for my client, then when I get you alone, you’re going to get everything but nice from me.”
I finally swallow my coffee, and it slides painfully down my throat as every muscle in my body tightens with anticipation. Sean turns from me, and I take in his impeccable suit and fine, athletic body as he saunters away, acting confident and composed, like he didn’t just tell me he’s going to watch me masturbate—or wear a goddamn vibrator to his meeting.
Holy God.
I grab my phone from my purse, desperate to talk to a friend. But what the hell would I say? Oh, my childhood crush Sean Fraser is going to do the dirtiest things to me tonight. And I can’t wait.
I finish my coffee, snatch the brochures, and stand, even though I’m worried I’m going to do a face-plant before I can get outside and get some fresh air to clear my head and my oversexed body. As I walk to the door, I can feel Sean’s eyes burn into my back, and I wobble slightly.
“Are you okay?” A hand slides around my waist, and my body tightens, because after last night, I don’t want another man’s hands on my body. Which is so not good. So not good at all.
Dammit Kennedy, what have you gotten yourself into?
I turn to find a guy in his mid-thirties dressed in a business suit, crowding me. Dark eyes meet mine, and his mouth turns up in a smile. “You looked like you were about to fall,” he says in a sexy British accent that would have once intrigued me. But now it’s only Sean’s voice I want in my ear at night. With his hand still on my back, the man steps closer.
“I’m okay. I just slipped on something,” I say, unable to blame my instability on high heels, since I’m wearing flats this morning. “Thanks.” I ease from his arms, and I’m about to excuse myself, but he doesn’t seem to want to let me go.
“Where are you from?” he asks. “Wait, let me guess.” He cups his chin and his gaze drops to take in my T-shirt and jean skirt—the comfortable clothes I picked out for sightseeing today. I have to find something to do to occupy my brain until Sean picks me up for the party, otherwise I’ll spend the entire time in bed fantasizing about what he’s going to do to me tonight.
Like I’m not going to do that anyway.
“New York,” he says.
I smile. “You got it.” I was raised in New York, but live in Chicago now, but don’t feel the need to clarify.
“The accent gives it away every time.” He touches my arm, unwanted contact on my part. I mean, the guy is cute enough, and friendly, but he clearly can’t read my body language—not the way Sean can. Okay, I seriously need to stop thinking about Sean, or I’m going to end up a quivering mess of need. “What brings you to London? I’m Sebastian, by the way.” He looks at the brochures in my hands. “What sights are you seeing?”
“Ah, not sure yet,” is all I say, wanting to leave but not wanting to be rude. It’s just not in my nature.
“If you’ll excuse me,” a deep voice says from behind him. Sean moves past Sebastian, and inserts himself in between the two of us. His gaze lands on mine, and I see a softness in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He gives me a warm smile that curls my toes. “You’d better get going if you want to take in all the sights before we head out tonight.”
“Right,” I say, playing along.
He cups my elbow and pulls me in tight against his hard body, and a soft moan catches in my throat. I put my hand on his chest, feel his strong heartbeat, and melt into him. His head lowers, and his lips move over mine, a soft caress, so different from the hard way he took me last night. I can’t decide which I like more.
After the kiss, he opens the door, and I step out. As the door closes behind me, I hear him say something to Sebastian. I don’t bother looking back. Instead, I head toward the double decker bus parked in front of the hotel lobby, a little chuckle bubbling up inside me. Sean is definitely a take-charge guy, and he knows how to read a woman, as well as a room. I kind of like that he came to my rescue. Even though I’m an independent woman and can take care of myself, there is something about Sean’s protectiveness that gets to me, reminds me of when we were kids, really. Olivia and I might have been an annoyance to him, but we knew he always had our back. I guess he’s just the kind of guy who protects what’s his.
What’s his?
Whoa, don’t go there, Kennedy. You’re not his. I make a sound, a half laugh, half moan. Sean doesn’t even know it’s me, for God’s sake. He thinks he’s having weekend sex with a dancer from his club. If he knew it was me, he’d probably never talk to me with such a filthy mouth. Then again, maybe he does know it’s me, knows I’m a good girl wanting to be bad, and is purposely talking to me the way I need him to. That would be just like Sean. He might have been a bossy jerk when we were kids, but there was a sweetness to him that I totally fell in love with.
Pushing that from my mind, I use the pass included in my dossier and spend the better part of the day taking in the sights around London. At one stop, I even sneak into a boutique to purchase a very sexy panty set for tonight. Who would have ever thought I’d be buying lingerie in London? Heck, just a couple of days ago, I was shocked to see the sexy clothes in my dossier. Now I wish there had been more.
It’s getting late in the day as the tour bus takes us back to the hotel, and I grab a shower and slip into my new clothes. I examine my curves in the mirror and run my hands over my body, hoping Sean likes white lace. As my fingers linger on my stomach, my pulse picks up. Is he really going to make me touch myself tonight, and watch while I do it? I might be used to touching my body, using toys at home, but holy hell, I’ve never done it in front of a man before. Will I like it? Hate it?
A fine shiver moves through me, and I know it’s not from fear. Goodness, who would have thought that deep inside I’m such a dirty little girl? Thank you, Sean, for teaching me that. A knock sounds at my door, and my heart leaps, eager for this night to get started.
“I’ll be right there,” I say. He’s early.
I pull on a tight black cocktail dress that hugs my curves, slide into my ridiculous heels, and open the door to find the concierge standing there, two paper bags in his hand.
“Good evening,” he says. “A special delivery from a friend.” He holds the bags out to me.
“Thank you.” I take the bag and say, “Wait,” as I turn to go for my purse.
“No need.” He holds his hands up, palms out, and shakes his head. “Everything has been taken care of.”
“Oh, okay,” I say.
“Have a great evening,” he says and closes the door behind himself. As the lock clicks into place, I rush to my bed and set the parcels down. A bubble of excitement swells inside me, because I know what’s in them. But holy hell, why two bags full of bedroom toys? One little toy would be enough, unless he plans to keep me tied to his bed until I leave Monday morning.
Could I be so lucky?
I dump the contents of the first bag and examine all the toys. I pick a few up and turn them over, even though I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with some of them. A flogger catches my eye, and my ass burns in response. Is he going to use that on me? I turn my attention back to one item called LUNA Beads. I read the package, and my stomach flutters with excitement. Apparently, you wear these in public, and they vibrate inside you with movement. How would Sean react if I used them? Would it drive him crazy knowing I was pleasuring myself while at a very important meeting with his client?
After inspecting each item, I grab the other bag, which was much lighter. I turn it upside down, and when I see a Truth or Dare adult card game, my pulse picks up tempo. Olivia and I used to play Truth or Dare all the time. It was the reason I was brave enough to ask Sean to Be Mine. That incident comes rushing back, and embarrassing heat floods me.
Pushing that from my mind, I reach for another square box and tug off the lid. When I see two tickets to Random Nation, playing tonight, I sink down on the bed, unable to breathe past the lump in my throat. I can’t believe I’m finally going to see my favorite band. I missed out on seeing them when I was a teen, when I was supposed to go with Olivia and Sean. I babysat all summer, but hadn’t earned enough for a ticket, and I wasn’t about to ask Mom, who was doing all she could do to put food on the table.
My heart pounds against my chest, and I feel a bit breathless as I look the cards and tickets over. My thoughts whirl, and my brain races to catch up. I feel a moment of panic. Sean couldn’t know Truth or Dare was my favorite game as a teen, right? Or that Random Nation was my favorite band.
Unless…
Chapter Six
Sean
I stand outside Kennedy’s door at six sharp and smooth my hand over my tie as I knock. My little Kitten is hiding her true identity from me, thinks I don’t know it’s sweet Kennedy Lane I’m playing sex games with. But after today’s delivery, will she clue in to the idea that I do know? She’s a smart girl, I’m guessing she will, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to break cover. Of course, that’s what the card game is for. Later tonight, I plan to play it with her and get to the bottom of matters once and for all.
Why?
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I should just let her continue to pretend, finish the weekend off without her ever being the wiser. It’s not like we run into each other back in the states. I haven’t seen her in years, and with Olivia living in Italy, it’s not like she’ll be inviting an old friend to any Sunday dinners.
So why, then, am I determined to expose her?
Because you really like her, dumbass.
Dammit, this is just supposed to be about sex. About fulfilling some strange fantasy Kennedy seems to be trying to live out.
The door opens, and my throat squeezes as I look at the beautiful woman standing before me, her blond curls falling over her shoulders, a soft pink tinge on her cheeks as she gives me a wobbly smile, like she’s trying to decide whether I know it’s her or not.
I take in her body-hugging dress and the high heels that shape and curve her legs. “You look beautiful,” I say, meaning every word as I run a long strand of her hair between my fingers.
Her glance races over me. “So do you,” she responds, her face flushing.
I look past her shoulder, waiting for some comment on the packages I had delivered. I see the contents, minus the tickets, spread out on her bed and wait for her reaction. When none comes, I say, “I see the gifts arrived.”
She nods and glances down for a moment, like all the toys have embarrassed her, or… Wait! I cup her chin and lift it. “Kitten?” I say, my cock swelling inside my unforgiving dress pants. “You are, aren’t you?” I ask.
She moves slightly and her lids flutter, bliss spreading across her face. Holy fuck she is!
“Which one,” I ask, sounding like I’d just eaten a bucket of nails.
“LUNA Beads,” she murmurs, her mouth curving slightly.
I scrub my hand through my hair, my balls drawing up inside my body. Sweet fuck. I thought I’d tease her with the idea, but I never thought she’d go through with it. How the fuck am I supposed to make it through the night knowing she has a vibrating sex toy inside her? Jealousy rages through me. Jealousy? Fuck, what have I become that I’m jealous of a damn vibrator? But seriously, right now the only thing I want inside her is my damn cock.
“Everything okay, Sean?” she asks, like she has the upper hand on these games we’re playing. She might, but I plan to rectify that later. Right now, I have other business to attend to, and we have no time to waste.
I square my shoulders and pull myself together. “Yeah. All set?”
“Just have to grab my purse.”
She sashays across the room with a little extra swing to her hips to tease me, I’m sure, and my dick throbs. I swallow, wanting nothing more than to bend her over and drive into her, balls deep.
She comes back with her purse under her arm, and I slide my hand around her waist and guide her to the elevator. A little mewling sound catches in her throat as she walks, and I just about shoot a load off in my damn pants.
Fuck me.
As we ride the lift to the lobby, we take that time to get our ducks in a row. I suggest we pretend we met though my sister years ago. Which, in fact, is true. Then we quickly exchange enough information about ourselves so we can pull this off. Not that we need to exchange facts. We already know a lot about each other. But she’s still pretending so I’ll continue to go along, for the time being. When the lift stops, I usher her outside to the waiting limo. Her eyes widen. “Nice,” she says.
“Only the best for my Kitten,” I say.
“Isn’t the cocktail bar just around the corner, though?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say, and neglect to tell her my plans for the limo later this evening.
I open the door and she slides in. I follow her inside, give the driver the address, and press the button to close the window separating the backseat from the front.
It’s obvious to me that she’s not going to tell me who she is, so for now I’ll play along. “Champagne?” I ask, and reach for the bottle chilling.
“Sure. It might help calm my nerves.”
“What are you nervous about?”
“I am pretending to be your fiancée. What if I can’t pull it off?”
“Don’t worry. Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I don’t know anything about banking, Sean. I have no idea how to talk to this client you’re trying to impress.”
We drive by a museum and I ask, “Well, what do you know about? What are your interests?
“I like a lot of things,” she says.
“Then just talk about your interests. No one expects you to talk finance with Cochrane.”
“Cochrane?”
“Yeah, the client I’m trying to impress. Thomas Cochrane.”
“Sean?” she says quietly.
“Yeah?”
She pats her purse. “These tickets…thank you. I really like Random Nation. I heard they were sold out months ago. How did you get them?”
I was wondering when she was going to bring it up. I shrug and make light of it. “I have connections.”
She nods. “I’m really looking forward to seeing them.”
“Good.”
I pass her a glass of champagne, and she sips it and glances out the window as we drive to Studio 12 Cocktail Bar. When we arrive, the limo pulls up in front, and the driver rolls down the window. I lean forward and give him instructions, then exit the vehicle. I stand on the sidewalk and hold my hand out to Kennedy as she slides out.
“This place looks nice,” she says, then she stills and moans. I can only image the slide from the car kicked the vibrator into motion.
“Cochrane is a very important client,” I somehow manage to say as I think about her tight pussy squeezing the toy.
I make a move to turn, but she places a hand on my chest to stop me. Her eyes narrow. “Sealing this deal means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She nods. “Then it’s important to me, too.” Her teeth flash in a smile, and she takes a deep breath. “Let’s go win him over.”
As I stand there staring at her, I have no doubt she’ll win Cochrane, as well as every other male in the place, over. Hell, without even trying, she wound herself around my heart. Unease moves through me because suddenly I don’t want to share her with a room full of men. As possessiveness takes hold, my mind races back to this morning, and how close I was to kicking the shit out of the guy hitting on her. But hell, how could I blame him? She’s a beautiful woman with no ring on her finger, which means she’s fair game, right?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I slide my hand around her waist and guide her inside. The place is bustling, and I search the crowd to find Dawson chatting with Cochrane over a glass of champagne. A waiter walks by, and I grab two glasses of the bubbly stuff from the tray he’s carrying. I hand one to Kennedy, and we clink glasses.
“Let’s do this,” I say. I guide her through the throng, and when we reach Cochrane, his eyes widen when he sees Kennedy on my arm.
“Cochrane, Dawson,” I say, greeting them. “Good to see you both again.” I nod at Dawson. “This is Kitten, my fiancée.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Kennedy says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Well, well. Where have you been hiding this beautiful woman, and why have I not heard about her before?” Cochrane asks, lighting up as he turns to Kennedy.
“Wasn’t ready to share her,” I say between clenched teeth.
Cochrane takes her hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist, and it’s all I can do not to knock his front teeth out.
Kennedy gives a flirtatious laugh as she lets him hold her hand longer than I like. “Aren’t you a charmer,” she says.
“Maybe I could charm you away from my boy, Sean.”
“No such luck,” she says, and moves in close to me. “Sean is the best guy I know.” As she looks up at me with those big blue eyes, my heart misses a beat. Fuck, I’m in trouble.
Cochrane laughs then winks at her. “That’s only because you haven’t gotten to know me yet.” He gives a tug on her hand, urging her away from me. “We have all night to rectify that, now, don’t we?”
I’m happy that Kennedy is hitting it off with Cochrane, but I want to punch the guy in the face for acting like a total fucking douche. Does he think I’m going to let him sleep with my girl for his business? Or maybe he’s testing me somehow? Testing my loyalty and commitment to my fiancée? To him? Fuck that. Honestly, Kennedy shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of bullshit from a dickhole client. I never should have put her in this situation. No account is worth it. I open my mouth, about to drag Kennedy away, but she plants her hand on my chest, hard.
Her eyes lock with mine, and she says, “Why don’t you go get us a real drink.” She presses the champagne glass into my hand and looks back at Cochrane. “Brandy?”
“A woman after my own heart,” Cochrane says.
Kennedy gives me a warning look, and as much as I don’t want to leave her with Cochrane, it’s clear she can take care of herself—and that she’s trying to stop me from fucking this whole thing up.
I step away and walk up to the bar, my glance constantly flipping back to Kennedy. Her smile is bright as she chats with my client. I have to hand it to her, she is impressive, and if it weren’t for her, I’d likely have blown the deal. I gesture for the bartender, who is run off his feet, and wait forever for the drinks to come. As the minutes tick by, I grab a stool and plant myself on it. A woman sidles up beside me and gives me a once over.
“Here on business?” she asks as she takes in my suit.
Her hand goes to my tie to straighten it, even though it’s already straight, and when I feel her put something into my shirt pocket, I look past her shoulder to see Kennedy casting a quick glance my way. Her smile falters for a moment, then it’s back in place as she gives her attention to Cochrane. I have no idea what they’re talking about, but from the intent look on my client’s face I can tell she’s holding his interest, no doubt engaging him in an intelligent conversation.
“So that’s a yes?”
“What’s that?” I ask, unable to keep my thoughts focused.
“You here on business?”
“I am.”
“I thought so. I saw you at Hotel Royal last night, and again this morning. I’m staying there, too. On business.” She moves closer until our legs are touching. “Nights get lonely away from home, though, don’t they?”
“They can,” I say when the waiter brings me my three drinks. But my nights are anything but boring, or routine. Sex had gotten a bit mundane lately, but Kennedy has breathed new life into me.
She twirls her empty glass, a ploy to get me to refill it.
“Please pour her another of whatever she’s having,” I say to the bartender, and stand. “I have to go. I’m here on business.”
“I’ll see you later, then?” she asks.
I just nod, not wanting to be rude but not sure why she thinks we’ll be seeing each other later, either. I make my way across the room with the three drinks.
I step back up to Kennedy and Cochrane, and they are immersed in conversation about the local museum. Cochrane seems impressed with her. And why wouldn’t he be? She’s beautiful, intelligent, fun, and sexy. Everything a guy could ever want.
“Hey,” Dawson says. “Kitten, huh?”
“Yeah, Kitten.”
“You find her at the club?”
“Yeah, something like that.” I’d found her many, many years ago, when my sister brought her home. I couldn’t do anything back then about how I felt. I’d sure done something about it this time, but the problem was one weekend with her wasn’t going to be enough.
I break into their conversation, and after a while, Kennedy excuses herself so Cochrane and I can talk business. The whole time, I keep casting Kennedy glances to make sure she’s okay, but the only one in the room who isn’t okay is me.
As the business meeting closes—and I have a damn good feeling about this relationship with Cochrane Industries—I find Kennedy and lead her outside, back to the limo.
She slides in and a soft moan catches in her throat. I smile at her. Despite the sexy toy she’s wearing, she managed to pull off the fake fiancée act and impress my client. My heart squeezes.
“Come here.”
Her eyes widen as I slide my hand around her neck and draw her mouth to mine. I kiss her, enjoying the taste of bourbon on her tongue. She leans into me, and I deepen the kiss. Fuck, I could spend the rest of the night kissing her, but we have a concert to get to. First, though, I want to take a drive through the park. I lean forward and instruct the driver, and tell him to go slow.
I roll the window up for privacy and turn to Kennedy, aching to bury my mouth between her legs. I must have one hell of a look on my face because her eyes widen and she asks, “What?”
Instead of answering, I press a button and the moon roof overhead rolls open. I pat the seat. “Stand. Look out.”
“Isn’t that kind of dangerous?” she asks.
“Driver’s going slow. You’ll be fine.”
She gives me a dubious look, like she knows I’m up to something else. “If you say so.”
“Up, now,” I say, eager to get my mouth on her.
I help her stand, and she pokes her head through the opening. I shift in my seat and place my hands on her thighs. Her body vibrates, and it brings a big fucking smile to my face. I look up at her, and her eyes are only half open, her hair flowing in the wind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her more beautiful.
I move her hips to stimulate the toy inside her, then grip her sexy lace panties and tear them clear from her hips. I hear her gasp, and lust prowls through me. I slide my hands up her thighs and push her legs open. She widens for me, and I lean in and press my mouth to her sweet pussy. I circle her clit, and she’s already so turned on from the toy buzzing inside her she begins to quake beneath my invasion.
I lick her clit, flatten my tongue and taste her from bottom to top, widening her lips and sucking her hard nub into my mouth. I can’t see her face, but I can only imagine her eyes are rolling back in her head like they do when she comes for me.
Later tonight I’ll position her so I can watch her come, but right now I just need to taste her heat. I move her hips to stimulate the toy as I pay homage to her sweet pussy. In no time at all, her muscles begin to clench. My heart thunders as she gives in to the pleasure, and I stay between her legs and lick, not daring to miss any of her sweet nectar.
When her body stops spasming, I tug on her hips and she tumbles into the seat, her cheeks so pink, her eyes so glazed with lust, all I can do is grin. “Hey,” I say. Jesus, I’m so crazy about her, yet she still doesn’t want me to know it’s her. Obviously, this is just a game to her, nothing more. What the fuck am I supposed to do about that?
“Hey,” she whispers back.
I clear my throat and work to get my shit together. “Enjoy the scenery?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Beautiful,” I say.
She blinks slowly and says, “Sean.”
I brush her hair back. “Yeah, Kitten?”
She opens her mouth and closes it again, and for a minute I think she’s going to confess. But instead she gives me a mischievous grin and points toward the still-open moon roof. “You don’t want to miss the view of the park.”
My cock throbs in my pants as I stand, and when I feel her hands on my body, I know I’m so fucked. So completely fucked.
Chapter Seven
Kennedy
Exhaustion overtakes me as I stare at the amazing, dirty-talking, sexy-as-all-get-out man seated in the limo beside me. After an eventful night of schmoozing his client, having sex in the limo, and watching my favorite band, it’s nearing two in the morning, and all I want to do is fall into bed—with Sean.
At this point I get that he knows who I am but isn’t saying anything about it. I can’t help feeling a bit torn by it now. What if we could have a future after London? Then again, I’m guessing he’s not saying anything because this is a fantasy weekend, and why bring reality in sooner then we need to. I guess if he wants to keep playing this sexy game, he expects me to as well.
I yawn, and he laughs. “Am I boring you?”
I grin. “Far from it. It’s been one amazing night.”
“Yeah, and don’t think for one minute that it’s over.”
I smile and shift closer to him. We are quiet for a long time, lost in our thoughts. “Do you think you’re going to get Cochrane’s account?”
“Yeah, I think so.” His eyes soften, and there is a new tenderness about him when he says, “Thank you. I owe you.”
My heart squeezes. Why did I have to go and fall for him? I give myself a mental shake. Seriously? How can I even ask myself such a stupid question? I’ve been in love with the guy for freaking years. I fell a long, long time ago. “Do you head back to the states tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Where is home for you?” I ask.
“New York.” His eyes move over mine as he softly rubs his thumb over my hand. I swallow at the intimate way he’s touching me. Good God, no man has ever looked at me like that before. It makes me wonder if there could be more between us. But even if we both wanted more, we couldn’t have a relationship. His life and work is in New York, and mine is in Chicago.
“Oh, and Sean, you don’t owe me anything. I was happy to help you out with Cochrane.”
He scrubs his jaw and goes quiet. Too quiet. Minutes tick by as something troubled flashes in his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s fighting an internal war. Then something seems to come over him, and the old, take-charge Sean slips back in place. “Yeah, well, you still owe me.”
My body fires at the lust I hear in his voice. “Oh.”
“Are you forgetting what you still haven’t done for me?”
“I thought wearing the LUNA Beads covered that.”
“Not by a fucking long shot.”
The limo pulls up in front of the hotel, and we both climb out. Sean tugs at his tie, and the move is so sexy my legs wobble. “My place or yours,” he asks, the muscles along his jaw rippling as he clenches down.
“Yours,” I say, knowing it will make my escape easier.
He captures my hand hard and leads me to the elevators. He seems a bit different suddenly, more intense, and I wonder what’s going through his head. Maybe bringing the conversation back to sex again is his way of reminding me that once the weekend comes to an end, so do we.
I pinch my eyes shut for a second to get it together, cursing myself for chasing after Sean in the first place. He hurt me when we were young, and he’s going to hurt me again. But it’s my own fault. I played a game with him where I could only end up on the losing end.
We climb onto the elevator and stop at my floor. I give him a look. “I thought we were going to your room.”
“We are, after you pick a few things up from your room.”
My body quivers. I can’t believe he’s going to make me go through with this.
But oh, how I want to.
I let myself into my room, shove all the toys back into the bag, and meet him at the door. The heated look on his face fills my mind with naughty images of things to come.
“All set?”
I nod and we step back on the elevator, getting off at his penthouse suite. He ushers me inside and locks the door behind us. Catching me off guard, he pins me to the wall with a body that is hot, all raw power, and I want him with a searing intensity that I’ve never felt before. He shoves his knee between my legs, his actions rough and needy—demanding. He dips his head, and his eyes meet mine. His breathing is heavy, labored, as it burns over my flesh.
“I want these beads out and me in.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll be right back.”
He lets go of me, and I practically sink to the floor. It takes all my effort to get my legs moving. I can feel his eyes drilling into my back as I make my way to the bathroom, the toy inside me buzzing with the movement.
“Get naked and turn the shower on. I’ll be right in, and I want you ready for me.”
I hurry to the bathroom, remove the beads, and turn on the shower. As I strip off my dress, the moan at the door gains my attention. I turn around to find Sean tugging off his tie as his gaze roams over my body.
“You are incredible,” he says. “Fuck, the things I’m going to do to you.” He shakes his head and looks at me with total possession as he wraps his tie around his hands. “If you were my fiancée, I’d fucking keep you tied to my bed and take you every day, all day, any way I wanted.”
I watch, transfixed, and try not to think about how excited that makes me, how much I would love to be possessed by him. He sheds his clothes, and when I take in the gorgeous man in all his male perfection, my brain stalls.
“Shower, now,” he says.
I open the glass door and step in, Sean following me. I stand under the rain shower nozzle and let the water fall over my hair and face. Sean pushes my hair back, and my hard nipples press against his chest as he plants his mouth on mine. The kiss grows and deepens as his palms race over my body with aroused eagerness, shaping my curves and contours.
My God, I’m going to miss his touch when this weekend is over. In only a couple of days I’ve grown accustomed to his hands on my body, pleasuring me. He reaches for the soap and lathers his palms, then places them back on my flesh. My soft murmur curls around us as he washes my hot skin. His hand slips between my legs, and he strokes me. I shudder in his arms, aching to feel him inside me.
Once I’m clean, he positions me under the spray and the water rinses away the last of the suds. Sean lathers his hands again, but I want to touch him now, so I reach for the soap and run it over his hard body. I feel his gaze burning through me so I glance up, and the air leaves my lungs at the way he’s looking at me. Hungry, needy, and lustful, but underneath that there’s something else. Something warm and tender––affectionate. Affectionate? Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.
I wash him, spending a few extra moments on his cock, enjoying the weight of it in my hands. Seeing how hard and ready he is—for me—fills me with female power. He dips between my legs and pushes a finger inside me. It glides in and out, and I moan as he presses his palm against my swollen clit.
“I need inside here,” he growls. “Now.”
He turns the water off, opens the glass door, and grabs a towel. He runs the soft cotton over my body, then turns it on himself. Once we’re sufficiently dry, he gives me a tap on the ass to set me into motion. When he stops to pick up his tie, I hurry to the bed, pull down the covers, and climb in.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, slapping his tie against his palm.
I blink up at him, putting on my best innocent face. “What do you mean?”
“Get out from under those covers and show me that sweet pussy of yours.”
My breath catches. Jesus, I love when he talks to me like this. I kick off the covers and spread my legs wide.
“Is this what you want?”
His gaze slides over me, coming to rest between my legs. My pussy clenches just from the way he’s staring at me. “It’s a start.”
He tosses his tie over his shoulder, closes his hand around his cock, and pumps. I moan with pleasure and he grins at me. “You like that, huh?” I swallow and nod. “Tell me.”
“I like watching you rub your cock,” I say, and his grin widens.
“Such a sweet, sweet girl with such a filthy little mouth.”
I lick my bottom lip and he steps closer. Using the pad of his thumb, he traces my lips, then shoves his thumb inside, stretching my mouth. “I’ve already destroyed you here,” he says, driving his thumb in and out of my mouth for a moment, pushing so far back I nearly choke. His hand slides lower, and he drives a finger into my hot pussy. “And here.” He pumps a few times, and my pussy squeezes his finger. “But I haven’t destroyed you here yet.” He drags his hand lower, a soft slide, until he’s probing my backside.
“Oh my God,” I whimper. “Sean…” He steps back, leaving me squirming and begging. I lie there practically crying for him to touch me when he disappears for a moment and comes back with the bag of goodies.
He pulls a long rubber vibrator from the bag, steps up to me, and runs the toy over my body, urging it between my legs. “You want this big cock inside you.”
Feeling braver than I ever have, I say, “I want your big cock inside me.”
“You’ll get it, but first you owe me.” He presses the toy into my hands. “Show me how you fuck yourself when you’re alone.”
Oh God, how sexy and…naughty. I totally love it.
I position the toy over my clit, rub a few times, and then slowly slide it inside me. “Oh, yes,” I whimper, partly because it feels so damn good, and partly because the look on Sean’s face as he strokes his cock while he watches me is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m so wet the toy glides in and out, and I lift my hips restlessly because it’s Sean I want.
“Yeah, Kitten. Show me how you like it.”
I begin to pant and work the toy in and out of me until an orgasm is just a few strokes away. Sean must sense it, because he grips my wrist to stop me. “Stop. Your orgasms are mine, and nothing is to ever fucking go inside you again but me, got it?”
“Yes,” I murmur, so far gone I can barely comprehend what he’s saying.
“Only I make you orgasm,” he says, and I just about lose it from the command in his voice. He takes the toy, tosses it away, and leans down, running his tongue over my slick folds.
I grip his hair to hold him there, and his soft chuckle whispers over my thighs. “Such a greedy girl.”
“Sean…” I plead, the ache between my legs building.
He grips my hips, flips me over, and shoves a pillow under me until my ass is exposed. I gasp. Is he going to…? Oh God, I’ve never had anal sex before, but I can’t deny that I want Sean to take me, destroy me everywhere, like he promised.
He slaps my ass. “It’s okay, Kitten,” he says, like he’s inside my head, reading my thoughts. “I won’t destroy this pretty ass too much. At least, not tonight.”
I hear him tear into a condom and sheath himself. Strong hands grip my outer thighs as he climbs onto the bed and positions himself between my spread legs. I grip the bedsheets, not sure what he’s planning but wanting everything he has to offer.
“Tell me how much better my cock is. Tell me how I can get you off better than any fucking toy.”
“So much better. The only cock I want is yours, Sean. It feels better than any toy,” I say on a breathless whisper. “I want you to fuck me, hard.”
“Yeah, Kitten. That’s exactly what I plan to do.”
He uses my hips for leverage and slides inside, filling me so beautifully that soft quakes begin at my core. I groan and push back, wanting every last inch of him inside me.
“Don’t move,” he growls, and grabs my ass cheeks. He kneads my flesh then gives me a smack. The sound echoes in the room, and our moans mingle as my pussy muscles squeeze around him.
He pulls out and slams back in harder, and my aching nipples smash against the soft mattress. I curl the bedsheets in my hand as pleasure grips deep inside. He leans over me and licks the skin below my ear, and I quiver.
Deft fingers push my hair from my back, and he trails his hand along my spine and over my backside until he reaches my sex. He pulls his cock out and slides a finger into me. “You’re so nice and wet,” he groans as he wiggles inside me. I move against him, but he removes his finger and thrusts his cock back inside as his hand moves to my ass.
“Such a pretty, pretty ass,” he says as he gently eases his lubricated finger inside. I concentrate on the sensations, the fullness in my body as he works his way in, his cock still pounding me into the mattress. I glance over my shoulder to see him, and when his eyes meet mine, looking at me with intimate recognition, my heart goes into my throat.
I’m so in love with him.
His gaze searches mine. “You okay, Kitten?” he asks, his voice soft and intimate, different from before.
“Yeah,” I say, and when his thrusts become faster, harder, I can barely breathe, let alone think. My entire body lets go, giving in to the pleasure and the things I feel for this man. My heart thumps double time, the heat between my legs intensifies, and I almost blurt out all my dirty secrets, almost tell him who I really am. Lust swirls through me, and I open my mouth, but the only thing that comes out is, “Oh God, Sean, I’m coming.”
He leans over me and gently bites my shoulder, like he’s leaving his mark on me. “I want my cum inside you. I want to fill your mouth with it, your ass, your sweet pussy.”
“Yes,” I hiss out.
“I’m clean,” he says. “Tell me you’re on the pill so I can get rid of this fucking condom.”
“I’m on the pill.” He pulls out and discards the condom. “Oh, and I’m clean,” I say.
He lifts me from the bed, and I stand on wobbly legs, wondering what he’s up to. He touches my lips. “If my cock didn’t taste like rubber, I’d be wrecking this mouth again.”
I truthfully don’t care how he tastes. I’m about to drop to my knees when he pulls the tie from around his neck and falls to the bed, pulling me on top of him. I straddle him, my pussy wide open as I stretch my thighs around his big body.
“Time to fuck hard. I want to feel your cum drip down my balls. Then I’m going to fill you with my cum, and I want you to take every drop of it in. Don’t you dare spill any.”
I wouldn’t dream of it.
I swallow, my nipples so damn hard they ache. He slides the tie around my body and binds my hands so my chest sticks out even more. Lifting slightly, he draws one hard bud into his mouth and bites down. I feel the pleasure and pain all the way to my sex.
He grips the back of my head, his fingers tight on my neck as he guides me down over his cock. He tugs and impales me so deeply it chases the air from my lungs. A gasp catches in my throat as his rough hands move to my shoulders to press me down harder, forcing me to take him even deeper. Heat bursts through me, obliterating every thought.
I ride him, and his hands go to my ribcage to lift me up and down. His fingers sink into my skin, and I tremble all over. I grind against him, and his hips power upward, filling me, destroying me so beautifully.
Beneath me, Sean inhales a ragged breath, and while I want to touch him, there is something so erotic in the way my hands are tied behind my back. My breasts bounce with the motion, and as he zeroes in on them, pleasure centers between my legs.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says.
Seeing him so aroused spikes my desire, and another orgasm pulls at me. “Sean,” I cry out as I feel a rush of wetness between my legs.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Come all over me, Kennedy.”
I continue to scream his name, so lost in bliss, so delirious with ecstasy, I can barely make out his words. I hover over him, shaking, gasping, the room fading in and out of existence as fireworks blast off inside my brain. He grabs my hips and holds me down, and I throw my head back and nearly sob as he shoots his seed high inside me. I clench around him, holding every precious drop inside.
“You are fucking incredible,” he says, and drags my mouth to his. His kisses are less rough, more tender, but just as powerful. I kiss him back and struggle to get the things I feel for this man under control. He holds me for a long time, until his cock grows flaccid, then he lifts me from his hips, settles me beside him, and snuggles me in close.
I yawn, and he chuckles. “Boring you, am I?”
I chuckle with him, sleep clawing at me. “You’re anything but.”
He pulls me in tighter, his warm body, and the steady beat of his heart against my cheek lulling me to sleep. “Tomorrow,” he whispers. “Tomorrow we’ll play Truth or Dare. Right now, you need sleep.”
“Okay,” I say, for lack of anything else.
“Night, Kitten.”
“Night.” I’m about to drift off when something niggles in the back of my brain and wakes me. Did he call me Kennedy? I angle my head and take in his face, his closed eyes, his soft breathing sounds. If he slipped out of the fantasy and called me by my name, is it possible that he might want more than just a weekend of sex? Did I dare hope?
When he begins to snore lightly, I slide from the bed and tiptoe into the bathroom. I step over Sean’s clothes and turn on the water, but when I see a key card sticking out of his shirt pocket, I turn the tap off and bend to pick it up. The little white envelope has a room number and the name Deanna scribbled across it. Was Deanna the girl from the cocktail bar? Is it possible that while I was schmoozing his boss, he was making a date with another woman?
The Sean I knew always was a player…
My heart freezes, and I drop the envelope like it just lit on fire. Stepping back, I hold my hands to my chest and try to get my emotions under control. Sean has a key card to another woman’s room. I feel stupid tears threaten and swipe them away. Why the hell did I let myself believe there could be more between us? I came to him playing a game, and he was playing one with me in return. I have no right to be upset that he has some woman’s room key. I never even came right out and told him who I was, for God’s sake.
I stand there for a few more minutes, breathing past the tightness in my throat as I think about my adventure and strategize my next move. I came here for epic sex, nothing more. Now that I’ve had it, it’s time to grab my things and get back to reality.
I slip into the room and go still when Sean stirs on the bed. How the hell am I going to get out of here without waking him? Last time I snuck out before morning, he was angry. But that was before our weekend was over. Now, would he even care?
Chapter Eight
Sean
Morning sun slants in through the curtain, and I reach across the bed for sweet Kennedy, who totally gave herself to me last night. I’m shocked how the first thing to cross my mind in the morning is her, how reaching for her has become somewhat of a habit. But when my hand comes up empty and I find the sheets cold, I jackknife up and glance around the room.
“Kennedy,” I call out and kick my sheets off. No sense in calling her Kitten anymore. The cat’s out of the bag, so to speak, since I called her by her real name in bed last night. I pad to the bathroom and stick my head inside. Unease curls through me, and I spin around. Where the hell did she go?
I grab my clothes off the floor, tug on my pants and shirt, and notice the little white envelope on the floor. I pick it up and examine it. Deanna? Shit, who the hell is Deanna? My tired brain races, but I don’t give two shits who Deanna is, or how her key card ended up on my bathroom floor. The only girl I care about is Kennedy, and she’s nowhere to be found. Even her clothes are gone. I reach for my cell, only to realize we hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers. Dumbass.
Finger-combing my hair, I step out of my suite and dart to the elevator. I ride to her floor and knock on her door. I pace restlessly as I wait for her to open it, but my gut is already telling me she’s not inside. I try the front reception and feel physically ill when they tell me she checked out.
Feeling like I’ve been sucker punched, I sink into one of the chairs, plant my elbows on my knees, and drop my head into my palms. Kennedy’s gone. Why the fuck would she just up and leave in the middle of the night like that? Not even a good-bye or a fuck-off. Nice, real nice. It’s something I would have done in the past.
In the past? When the hell was that, last week? Jesus, I can’t believe how much I’ve changed since falling into bed with my sister’s best friend.
I sort through everything, from the second she chased me down the rain-soaked street to waking up in bed alone. Obviously, she was playing a game with me and didn’t want me to know who she was. Had I totally fucked it up by calling her Kennedy? Did she never want me to know who she was? Never want anything other than sex from me? Guess not, considering she took off.
I push from the seat and step outside, needing the cold morning air to help clear my head and get my thoughts straight. I walk the busy sidewalk, pass a few stores on the way, and play with my phone in my pocket. Whatever this was all about with Kennedy, my sister was clearly involved. I pull my phone and shoot her a text.
“Tell me what’s going on with Kennedy?” A second later my phone rings, and I slide my finger across the screen to answer. “What’s going on, Olivia?”
She’s hesitant at first, then says, “We had a pact.”
“A pact?”
“Yeah,” she says, and then explains the whole New Year’s Eve name-drawing game they were all involved in.
“So you thought you’d send her to me? For epic sex?”
“She’s always had a thing for you, Sean, and you’ve been into her for just as long. I thought you both needed a push in the right direction.”
Fuck. I rake my hands through my hair, lean against the window of a confectionary store, and say, “You knew.”
“Of course I knew.”
“I figured Kennedy was the last girl you’d want me to be around.”
“She is the last girl I want you to be around. Meaning she’s the one for you. I’ve always known that. I just don’t think the timing has ever been right.”
“She is the one for me,” I say, my heart racing. “But she took off.”
Olivia laughs. “Jesus, she really did a number on you, didn’t she?”
“Olivia—”
“Look, I’ve known you for twenty-five years. You’re a ruthless businessman, a tough negotiator. Since when did you ever let anyone or anything stand in the way of getting what you wanted?”
“Never.”
“Right.”
I push off the building and glance inside the store. “I’ll talk to you later, Olivia,” I say, and power down my phone. With renewed purpose, I grab the door handle and walk into the market. My pulse leaps when I find what I’m looking for. Oh, yeah. Kennedy is going to be mine, even if I have to tie her to my bed until she understands that.
Chapter Nine
Kennedy
After photocopying a bunch of documents, I drop into my chair and ignore my buzzing cell phone. It’s been ringing all week, but I’ve disregarded all calls from my friends, especially Olivia, and spent the last week busying myself with work. Anything to keep my mind off Sean and the pain those memories bring. A sound catches in my throat, and I blink to dispel the image of him and…Deanna.
I turn sideways to my door and boot up my computer, needing to input some data. But my hands freeze over my keyboard when I hear, “What do you think you’re doing?”
I spin and glance up. When I see Sean in the doorway, looking so relaxed and handsome, dressed in a dark suit and impeccable as always, my heart pounds in my chest.
“Sean––” I say. “What––how?”
He pushes off the doorframe, and his presence overwhelms me in the small space of my office as he nears. “Kitten,” he responds. “Or, should I say Kennedy?”
Oh God, what kind of game is he playing now?
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask as he stalks toward me.
He stops on the other side of my desk and dips his head. “I’ve already asked you that question, and I’m waiting for an answer.”
“When did you figure it out?” I ask.
“Two seconds after I got off the elevator the first day you arrived in London.”
I take in the smirk on his face. “You knew all along…” I say, and look down, hardly able to believe it.
He knew all along and still wanted to play with me.
My heart picks up tempo as I chew on that. He never thought he was sleeping with Kitten, and knew all along it was the annoying girl from his youth he had between the sheets. A little thrill moves through me. I guess I kind of like that he knew from the get-go that it was me, and that he’d been anxious to have me beneath him.
Oh, how anxious he was.
As my mind races back to all the naughty ways he took me, and the deliciously dirty things he said to me, he says, “I guess you don’t remember me calling you Kennedy when you were coming for me.”
My mouth drops open, and I glance past him to make sure no one in the hall heard.
“Sean.” I lower my voice, but past experiences tell me he’s not about to hush for anyone.
“The tickets to Random Nation weren’t random, Kennedy,” he says, a new softness to his voice. My heart squeezes painfully, more touched than ever by the tickets. “I knew it was you all along, and the game of Truth or Dare, well, that was so I could get the truth from you. But you took off before we could play it. Why did you do that?”
“It was a one-night deal that turned into a one-weekend deal,” I say, my pulse beating so hard against my throat I think I might pass out. I can’t tell him that I’m in love with him and that spending any more time with him would surely kill me. “Besides, you had Deanna.”
His brow furrows. “Who the fuck is Deanna?”
“I know your reputation, Sean. I saw her put the card in your shirt pocket that night at the cocktail bar.”
“Fuck. Right, I remember now. It actually flew in and out of my mind that night because I was so caught up in you.”
“So you didn’t––you haven’t…?”
“Jesus Christ, Kennedy. I could never sleep with another woman after you.”
“Are you serious?” He only wants to sleep with me?
“Fuck yeah, I’m serious.” He dips his head, and his eyes lock on mine, holding me captive within a whirlpool of need. I love him so much. “This is how serious I am.” He lifts one hand, and I notice the big brown bag he’s holding. Oh my God. I hope he doesn’t have a bag of sex toys with him. I know our relationship has been all about bedroom games, but I’ll lose my freaking job if he dumps a bunch of vibrators on my desk.
He opens the bag, and I hold my hand up. “Sean, don’t,” I say quickly, my throat so tight it’s hard to speak.
He turns the bag upside down, and a thousand candy hearts fall onto my desk. Some roll onto the floor, and I gasp when I see that each candy has Be Mine written on it. My hand goes to my chest, and I falter backward. Good God, he must have gone to a million stores, opened a million packages to collect all the ones that said Be Mine.
“Sean,” I say, confused. My mind races back to the day I gave him that exact candy and he laughed in my face.
“I’ve always wanted you, Kennedy. I pretended you were a nuisance because back then a three-year age gap was too much. Today, it’s not.”
I can’t breathe as I stare at him, and my ears are buzzing so hard with the rush of blood that I’m not sure I’m hearing what he’s saying. He picks up a candy and hands it to me.
“I want you. You want me.” He comes around to my side of the desk, and when he tugs on his tie, my body fires. “Now, say yes to this before I toss you over my shoulder, drag you to my place, and tie you to my bed until I coax the answer I want from that pretty mouth of yours.”
“Sean…I can’t believe this.” I shake my head. “I’m surprised you knew right away it was me. I’ve changed so much.”
He laughs. “Yeah, you changed. Grown up. I have, too, but I’d know you anywhere. You’re still that sweet, fun-loving, sexy-as-hell girl I fell for ten years ago.”
He pushes a candy into my mouth and lets his thumb linger there for a moment. His eyes darken as his gaze drops to my lips. “What do you say?”
I’m about to say yes when reality hits. “You live in New York. I’m in Chicago. There’s no way…”
“I really hate that word. In fact, I don’t want you to ever use it with me again,” he says, his voice hardening.
My entire body quivers at the command in his tone. “What word?”
“No.”
“But—”
He presses his lips to mine to seal my protest, then says, “My head office is around the corner. I’ve already made the change. The only thing left is for you to pick out whatever house you want to live in.”
He wants to live with me? Is this just about sex, or more? Oh God, do I dare hope it’s more? My heart couldn’t take the alternative. “This is all coming at me rather fast.”
“Now, there’s a word I want you to use all the time.”
“What word.”
His grin turns wicked. “Coming.”
My legs wobble, and he pulls me against him. “Do you think you could take the afternoon off? I’d like to take my fiancée out to celebrate our engagement properly.”
“Your fake fiancée, you mean,” I remind him.
“No.” He pulls a box from his pocket and drops to one knee. “I love you, Kennedy. Will you be mine?”
I stand there, shell-shocked, looking at the man I love—the man who loves me—down on one knee, proposing for real. I sink to the floor next to him. “I’ve always been yours, Sean. Always,” I say, and press my lips to his.
He kisses me deeply then pulls back and says, “And I’ve always been yours, Kitten. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here so I can tie you up and make you purr.”
Acknowledgments
A shout out to Pamela Callow, Kelly Boyce and Julianne MacLean, wonderful friends who are always there to support me, and give excellent advice. You ladies are the best!