by Lilly Atlas
Fia’s heart galloped so fast and so loud she was half convinced Adam Wellington could hear it. “Holy crap, you scared me.” Scared was an understatement. She’d been so lost in her own world, she almost screamed when his voice rang out. She chuckled. “Though I suppose it was my own fault. I was a million miles away. You’re—” She caught herself before she said something stupid like you’re the one everyone talks about, the one they all call a criminal.
The dark blond god with the regal face walked toward her, his gait confident without crossing into arrogance. He held out a hand and gave her a panty-melting smile. “Acer,” he said. “Black sheep of high society.”
Even as her mouth turned down in confusion, she extended her hand. “Acer? I thought your name was Adam.”
He engulfed her hand in his much larger one, slowly, letting his fingers glide along her palm in what could be described as nothing other than sensual. A zing of awareness shot from her hand straight to her core. The man was lethal.
He smiled again.
Yep, melted panties.
“I see you’ve heard of me. My name is Adam, but the only people who call me that are the pricks in that ballroom. Since you don’t look like a prick, I went with my preferred name.”
She laughed. He was a refreshing change to the stuffy businessmen and political hopefuls with whom she usually socialized. “I have heard of you. Terrance Caldwell, oilman extraordinaire, is my father. He and your father are friends. My given name is Serafina, but don’t call me that if you expect me to answer. I’ll reserve judgment on whether or not you’re a prick, but nonetheless, call me Fia.”
He gave her another one of those break-out-the-condom smiles and released her hand. She immediately missed the feel of his skin against hers.
Not good.
It hadn’t been too long since she’d been with a man, but long enough that her body perked up and wanted to beg for his touch.
Acer reached with his now free hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. Forward, considering they’d just met, but the move didn’t feel presumptuous, it felt oddly…intimate. She swallowed and tried not to stare at him like she was in heat.
“I like your hair, Fia. It’s short and sassy, like you seem to be.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She kept her hair on the shorter side, an A-line bob a smidge longer than her chin. He described exactly what she loved about the style. It was chic and sassy, and the fact that she didn’t have long hair like everyone else she knew, drove her family nuts. Bonus.
“So, Fia.” He chuckled at the play on words and she rolled her eyes. “What has you running from the party to the safety of the fiftieth-floor balcony? Boyfriend troubles?”
She snorted. “Not hardly. Shitty day. Work troubles, actually.”
“What is it that you do?”
She studied him for a moment. Too frequently, if she told the truth she was met with scorn and judgment, as though her chosen profession was below her station in life. But Acer’s life choices certainly weren’t understood or accepted by the upper echelon, at least not according to the whispered buzz. Perhaps something they had in common. “You haven’t heard yet? Huh, I’m surprised. Usually, my parents warn every man within a three-mile radius. I’m the porn queen of Los Angeles.”
Chapter Three
Acer choked on his saliva and tried to draw in a breath as Fia released a throaty laugh. The sound was intoxicating and negated any anti-erection effect the choking spell may have had on his dick.
“That was kinda fun,” she said with a grin once he’d regained control of his airway. “I don’t know you, but I get the feeling not much takes you by surprise. I’m happy to be the one to break the mold.”
Nothing surprised him. Not anymore. That was for sure. He trusted no one and rarely gave anyone else control over his life, so no, surprises weren’t commonplace. But he had to admit, her statement shocked the breath right out of him.
Sexy, witty, and bold. A lust-inspiring combination.
“Okay, you had your fun,” he said. “Now, I’ll take an explanation because, babe, I’ve had…encounters with a few women who work in the adult entertainment business and I can assure you, you aren’t one.”
She laughed again and his dick twitched. How would she sound if she were moaning instead? Preferably while his cock plunged deep inside her.
“I think I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m a designer, lingerie designer. I do mostly custom pieces.” She held out her hands and shrugged. “Akin to porn in my family’s eyes.”
Jesus, did that mean there was something dirty and sinful underneath that dress? Or maybe something frilly and virginal. Either way, he was on board. “Custom lingerie, really? There a big market for that?”
“You wouldn’t believe how much rich women will pay, and how far they will travel for custom lingerie made from the finest material.” She lifted her stubborn chin and stared straight at him, the spark in her eyes daring him to belittle her profession.
He got the impression she was used to having to defend her career choice. Not surprising given her presence at this event. Most women here were arm candy, trophy wives, or hopeful singles shopping for one of those roles. Businesswomen weren’t the norm. Especially not businesswomen who specialized in sexy.
“At ease, there, soldier,” he said. “You won’t find any judgment here. I happen to think lingerie is one of the best inventions out there.”
Her stance relaxed and she sent him a grateful smile.
He leaned against the balcony wall. “So, what’s the problem? You need someone to give you some advice on which designs work? I’m more than happy to fill that role. In fact, we could head on up to my room and you could give me a private showing of your collection right now.”
Fia laughed, as he’d intended, but not before a flare of interest lit her eyes. For just one second before she laughed at his blatant and poorly executed pick-up line, her prideful expression turned hungry.
Damn, if she kept that up she might not make it out of this hotel tonight.
“As generous and selfless as your offer is,” she said with a wink. “That’s not the problem. I’d rather not get into my troubles right now. I just met you; no need to bore you to tears just yet.”
“Come on, spill it.” He stepped closer and ran a hand down her arm, from her shoulder to her hand. Halfway to her wrist, she shivered and goose bumps rose beneath his palm. He linked their fingers and gave her hand a little squeeze.
Her eyes widened and she tensed slightly but didn’t pull away.
“I need something to distract me from how much I hate everything about being here. You won’t bore me. I’m sure you’ve heard hundreds of stories about me, and I can promise you that no more than ninety percent of them are true.” He played with her fingers as he spoke, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin under his coarser fingertips. Would his rough hands bother her? He may be rich, and he may be well educated, but he wasn’t soft. His chosen life as a member of a one-percenter motorcycle club saw to that. Women of her caliber often found that unpleasant. Another reason he stayed far away from rich girls.
She must have recognized the contrast to the men in her social circle because her focus darted to their hands then back up to his face. The gown she wore covered every inch of her chest, not even a peek of cleavage showed, but when her breathing sped up and with it, the rise and fall of her breasts, she might as well have been naked.
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and the momentary spell was broken.
“Okay, but now you lost the right to complain if you lose interest,” she said.
He nodded. She was such a welcome reprieve from the rest of the evening. Her sassy personality was as sexy as her gorgeous body. He bet she’d get along really well with Lila and Emily, two of his brothers’ women.
What? Where the fuck did that thought come from? This woman would never be within ten miles of anyone from his club. Her existence and his might as well be oceans apart. One night per y
ear spent back in her fancy world was disturbing enough. Bringing her into his might push him over the edge.
She licked her lips and he nearly swallowed his tongue. Dam that mouth was enticing. “I lease a storefront on Rodeo Drive,” she said.
Her statement knocked him out of his thoughts. The woman wasn’t kidding. She had some high-end clientele.
“I stock a handful of retail pieces, but the majority of my work is custom like I said. So, women with more money than they know what to do with come from all over to commission pieces. I take precise measurements, and meet with them to formulate designs based on their specific desires.” She sighed and shook her head, frustration returning to her face. “Or at least I used to. My landlord sold the building out from under me, and my lease doesn’t carry over to the new owners, so I’m out on my ass.”
He frowned. “That can’t be—”
She held up a hand, stopping the inquisition before it began. “I don’t know all the details, but my lawyer assures me it’s all legal.”
“Maybe the new owners will let you stay through the completion of your lease.”
She shook her head. “The new owners are my parents. They’ve gone from verbally attacking what I do to actually sabotaging it. The pattern will just continue now. Anywhere I set up shop, they’ll find a way to buy the building and boot me out, they as much as told me so.”
She pulled her hand from his grasp and jammed them both on her hips. “They don’t even live in LA. My whole family still lives in Texas, where I grew up.” A spark of frustration lit her amber eyes. “Apparently, my indecent business is just too embarrassing for them. Since I often sell to women in their social circle, even so many states away, they see it as low-class. They’d rather me hang off some politician’s arm with a fake smile than run a successful business. My parents and I have always gotten along well enough, but now… I’m just not sure where we stand.” She pressed her lips together and shrugged, her chest rising and falling in time with her shoulders. “So there you have it. Sorry you asked?”
“Jesus.” He turned away from her and stared out at the city, her story hitting too close to home. The memory of being stabbed in the back by his father too near the surface, especially tonight when the old man was trying to drag him back into a world he loathed.
“I’m not sure Jesus is too fond of what I sell either,” she said in a deadpan tone.
Acer turned back. She looked at him with a half smirk on her face. He threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. With one line, she yanked him from his dark thoughts. Not an easy feat. “So, you’re an entrepreneur, the sexiest woman at this benefit, and apparently, a comedian. Anything else I need to know about you?”
There it was. That surge of heat. Her face flushed to a pale pink and her eyes darkened. The visible rise and fall of her throat as she swallowed drew his gaze like a heat-seeking missile. At some point tonight, his lips would be on that neck, of that he was sure.
She tilted her head as a small grin played across her tempting mouth. “And you are smooth with the words, huh?”
“You should just do it all online.” The idea popped in his head and was out of his mouth before he had time to question the wisdom of messing in someone else’s business affairs.
Her mouth opened, closed, then dropped open again. “What?”
“Your business. Forget the storefront and just sell online.”
After just a second, she caught up with the directional shift in the conversation and shook her head. “Eighty percent of my revenue comes from custom designs. I need to meet with clients, take accurate measurements, show them samples, then do a fitting to make any small adjustments before the piece is finished. I can’t do that on the computer.”
“Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your business, but, you can. Well, most of it anyway. Just use Skype. The women can go to any tailor they choose and Skype you in. You can display samples and supervise to make sure their tailor is measuring the way you want. Then at the end, you can go to them for a fitting. Do it in their homes, or have them come to yours if you’d rather. I bet your customers would love how personal it is. I promise I’m not just butting in. This is right in my wheelhouse. I run all our business affairs and know my way around a computer.” That was putting it mildly, and he’d never tell her what his business affairs actually were, but it was close enough.
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off before she could argue. “The ones who travel are willing to pay to come to you, right? If you don’t want them coming to your house, I’m sure they’d be willing to pay you to fly to them for a fitting. In fact, they’d probably prefer it.”
He needed to shut his mouth or before he knew it, Fia would be calling him with computer questions at all hours. Sure, he wanted to sleep with her, but that’s it. When this event was over, and he walked out the hotel doors tomorrow morning, there would be nothing tying him to this world for one entire year.
Not even a sassy woman with whiskey-colored eyes and a hypnotic laugh.
~ ~ ~ ~
Fia blinked at him, which was only slightly less embarrassing than gaping with her mouth hanging in the breeze.
The man was a genius. He was also get-horizontal hot, confident, mysterious, and there was a slightly…dangerous air about him. But for now, he was a genius.
Could it really be that simple? Well, no, of course it wouldn’t be that simple, but the idea was solid, and with a little fertilizing, it could grow into something real, and possibly quite profitable.
He raised one eyebrow at her. “Nothing to say, Fia?”
“It’s actually a really great idea. I need to give it some serious time and thought.” She laughed. “But you very well may have just saved my business. I suppose I owe you one, now.”
Acer’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. For one second, his gaze dropped to her chest, then back up to her face and his eyes smoldered with undisguised desire. He went from intelligent business advisor to hungry male animal in the blink of an eye.
He stepped close to her, so close she had to tip her head back to see his face. The heat radiating from his body wafted across her skin, raising her temperature until she felt almost feverish. Two seconds of his nearness affected her ten times more than an entire dance in Gordon’s arms.
“In that case, I’m going to need to request a private consultation,” he said. “You happen to have any samples you could show me?”
That was an invitation if she ever heard one.
She clenched her fists to keep from reaching up and yanking his mouth down to hers. “Just one set.” One set that was currently on her body.
He must have caught her meaning because he smiled a predatory grin. “Perfect, that’s exactly what I’m in the market for.”
“My consultation fee is pretty hefty.”
One eyebrow arched. “I thought we already established that you owe me.”
“True.” Beneath the underwear they spoke of, her nipples beaded, abraded by the lace. Fia clenched her teeth, unwilling to release the needy sound that threatened to escape.
“You know what? I believe in supporting the small business owner. I’ll make you an offer.” He bent his head down to her ear. “How’s five orgasms before the sun comes up? That sound reasonable?” As he whispered, his lips brushed her ear.
Hell, yeah, that sounded reasonable. It sounded fantastic. “Um.” Words were hard to conjure. “I think…um…I think I can work within your budget.”
He chuckled against her ear. “Room sixty-seven twenty-four, ten minutes, smartass.”
He nipped her neck, not a bite really, just a grazing of his teeth along the tender skin and goosebumps rose all over her body. She couldn’t quell the visible shudder that traveled through her muscles. “You smell fucking delicious, Fia.”
You smell lovely, Serafina. Gordon’s words from just twenty minute ago floated through her mind. No contest. She’d take fucking delicious over lovely any day. Fucking delicious meant he just migh
t want to eat her up. Her empty pussy clenched and moisture drenched her panties at the thought of his mouth between her legs.
Acer pulled back and winked at her like he knew the direction of her thoughts, then turned and strode back into the banquet hall his gait confident once again, as though he hadn’t just been whispering filthy promises in her ear.
Fia blew out a shaky breath and remained where she was. The past fifteen minutes had been a whirlwind and she needed to gather herself. If she tried to strut across the balcony as Acer just had, her trembling legs would likely crumple beneath her, leaving her in an aroused heap on the floor.
She liked sex. She had sex. Not enough to make her promiscuous, but enough that she knew what she wanted in a partner. Unfortunately, no man had ever quite fit the bill of exactly what she was looking for. Acer, however, was nothing like the sedate bankers and upper-class men she typically went out with.
Was she really going to do this? One-night stands weren’t her thing, and she had no doubt that’s all this would be. All it could be. If the rumors were to be believed, he lived a dangerous life on the wrong side of the law.
Instead of turning her off, that fact only ignited every bad boy fantasy she’d ever had.
Yes, she was going to do this. She was a big girl, she made her own decisions, and tonight she was going to have a little fun.
Or, if the expression on Acer’s face was any indication, a lot of fun.
The man’s hands were callused after all.
Chapter Four
Fia’s stomach fluttered with a mix of anticipation and nerves as she rapped her knuckles in a soft knock on the large, black oak door with the brass six-seven-two-four.
He didn’t make her wait long. Acer opened the door before her fist was back at her side.
Her jittery stomach kicked up a notch at the site of him. He’d shed his shoes, jacket, and tie, and the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt were open, revealing a small expanse of skin she couldn’t wait to taste.
He was mouthwatering.
