SEAL'd Heart

by Alice Ward

  “I know that he can have me fired,” I argued. “He’s one of the most powerful people in the city, if not the most powerful.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You can get another job.”

  “Where? Waffle House? People tip in change there. I don’t know about you, but I like eating something other than ramen.”

  Jess interrupted. “On a scale of one to ten...”

  “Eleven,” I immediately answered.

  “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Don’t use the rating scale so liberally.”

  I fell back into the cushions. “I’m not,” I sighed. “Google him if you don’t believe me. He’s an eleven. There isn’t even a celebrity to compare him to, because no one else on Earth is that good looking.”

  “Oh, I will Google him. Believe you me.”

  “I can’t do it,” I suddenly decided, the words popping out of my mouth before I knew they were coming. “I can’t.”

  “Good,” Laine answered, falling back on the cushion.

  “Hold on,” Jess said. “Emma, you’re practically breathless talking about him. You already sound like someone’s got their hand down your panties.”

  “So?” I countered.

  “So do it.”

  Laine tossed a throw pillow at her. “She can’t whore herself out like that. She’s better than that.”

  Jess picked the pillow up and chucked it back over. “I’m not even thinking about her job. I’m thinking about what an amazing once in a lifetime opportunity this is.”

  Laine crossed her arms. “This isn’t a chance to go to Disney World.”

  Jess’ nose crinkled. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you think that is a big opportunity.” She turned to me. “Emma, listen. It’s obvious you’re turned on by the thought of this guy, and it’s obvious you’re at least curious, or else we wouldn’t be talking this much about it. If you don’t do this, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

  I chewed my lip. “I guess...” I sighed, absolutely done with the day. After hours of classes, the excitement at the restaurant had been the last thing I needed. Every part of me ached, especially the arches of my feet and the spot between my eyes.

  “I need to go to bed,” I announced.

  Laine straightened her back. “Just make sure you think this through. Please.”

  Jess nudged her with her foot. “We know who’ll she’ll be with. We’ll call the cops right away if she doesn’t come home. We’ll use the secret code. What’s the worst that could happen to her?”

  Good question.

  “Good night, guys.”

  Trudging to my bedroom, I shut the door and stripped down to bra and panties. I briefly glanced in the direction of the bathroom, knowing I needed a shower. In the end, I decided against it. Surely, every once in a while, a girl was permitted to put off personal hygiene until at least the next morning. After such a day as the one I’d been through, hopping into bed before midnight was a luxury.

  I turned the fan on and nestled down under the sheet. Though the window was closed, the sounds of traffic still permeated the walls. The apartment wasn’t exactly in a quiet area, but it allowed me the ability to walk to both work and classes at the university.

  I stared at the shafts of light sneaking through the curtain’s sides. Niall Lambert’s stoney eyes entered my vision. They’d been so calculating, so cold... and yet there was something about them I couldn’t resist.

  Was it the way the people around him bent to his will? Each time I’d seen him in the restaurant, the people he came in with practically ate out of his very hand. It was clear he wielded immense power.

  Or was it just the fact that he was a man who knew what he wanted? As inappropriate as he was in the restaurant, and as much as I knew I should have been appalled and offended, I couldn’t help but like the move he played on me.

  And the way his fingertips had danced up my arm...

  A delicious shiver went down my back at the thought. And then there was his breath.

  What would it be like to have it tickling parts other than my ear? To have his lips float down my neck, his tongue swivel across my breasts, suck on my nipples?

  They got hard at the mere thought. Niall hadn’t been specific about what he would do to me if I were to take him up on his offer, but he had promised me something about pain and pleasure together.

  I gulped hard and shut my eyes, willing all thoughts of him to go away. Unfortunately, they did anything but disappear. I could practically feel his hands gripping my hips, first massaging my thighs and then spreading my legs. The heat from his cock hovered close to my entrance. Any second and it would plunge into me, filling me up and taking me to a place I’d never before imagined.

  I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Niall

  I stared out at the city, the hazy early autumn morning like all the others before it. Far below my penthouse, people littered the sidewalks, little ants hurrying about their little lives. There was something desperate about the scene. I turned away from the window, not wanting to see any more of it.

  It was almost noon, and she hadn’t called. Emma Emerson. It had been easy enough to dig up information on her. Nursing school student. Twenty-two years old and from a suburb of Chicago. She’d worked at Kristopher’s for a year. I’d noticed her, of course. Maybe even squirreled her away in the back of my mind as a potential prospect. It wasn’t until she’d been down on her knees, her emerald eyes sparkling with so many emotions, that she’d taken on a new glow.

  I ran my hand over my mouth and walked across the polished wood floor, my footsteps echoing in the space. Surely she wouldn’t turn me down. How could she? Without considering the matter of her job, the girl had been undeniably attracted to me. I’d read it in the way her pupils grew and shrank, the way her neck had arched up towards my lips, begging to be sucked and bitten.

  Fire pulsed in my veins. Pulling my shirt off, I walked into my personal gym. The morning had stretched on in that painful way Saturdays could. I’d already completed my daily workout, but there were a couple hours to kill before my afternoon meeting at the office. A few miles on the treadmill would do me good.

  My personal cell interrupted me. Turning and following the sound into the bedroom, I picked it up from the bedside table. The local number was unknown.

  Her?

  “Hello,” I answered, keeping my voice neutral.

  “Hi. Um, this is Emma Emerson. From Kristopher’s.”

  A heavy pause followed. I smiled into the phone and sat down on the edge of my bed, enjoying the sweet taste of the delicious moment. So she had called, just like I knew she would.

  “I know who you are,” I smoothly said.

  She cleared her throat. “Okay.”

  “I assume you’re calling to tell me you’ve had enough time to consider my offer.”

  “I did,” she said in a voice that grew stronger with each word. “And I’m going to accept it.”

  Though I knew as soon as her voice came over the line that she would say yes, hearing the actual words gave me a euphoric high. I bit down on my bottom lip to stop myself from vocalizing my pleasure.

  “Good,” I said without any inflection. “Next weekend?”

  “N-next weekend?” She sounded flustered, all confidence from her earlier statement gone out the window.

  “Unless you have plans. Although if you do, I highly suggest you cancel them.”

  “I don’t have plans. Next weekend is fine.”

  “Then send me your address. I’ll have a car pick you up on Friday night.”

  I briefly considered giving her a sneak peek of just what would happen, but knew it was better she remain in the dark. Let her spend the whole week wondering just what I had in store for her. Once reality came, it would blow all prior fantasies out of the water.

  She gave me her address and then stuttered an awkward goodbye. The deal sealed, I ended the call and s
tretched, reaching my arms up to the ceiling. I stripped the rest of my clothes off and pulled on a pair of exercise shorts, the plans for the next weekend swirling around in my head.

  The options were nearly endless. I did, after all, have the resources to take her anywhere, to do anything with her. Every once in a while, I flew women to exotic locations for a day or two, but for the most part, I got what I needed from them right in Chicago. Doing anything more than that could be exhausting.

  But something told me Emma might be worth the extra effort.

  I could take her to a restaurant. Or I could hire a chef to prepare something in my penthouse. There was my regular chef, the man who came in twice a day to prepare meals. But I could also bring someone in special, someone who specialized in exotic dishes. Before all that, though, I would need to pick out her clothes for the weekend. It would all take planning. Meticulous planning. It was one of the things I was best at.

  And then there was the matter of actually fucking her. Would we do it on the bed? The penthouse had several spacious bedrooms, one of which I specifically kept set up for women. It seemed like a sad place to limit things to though. There was also the living room. The foyer. The library. The kitchen.

  By the time I clocked five miles on the treadmill, the anticipation had gotten to me. I wiped my sweat slick forehead with a towel and headed to the bathroom. Visions of Emma with her hair down and her lips parted clouded the room thicker than the shower’s hot steam.

  She was so delicious I could hardly bear to think of her without any clothes on. Which was odd because, judging by the drab waiter’s outfit I’d only seen her in, there was nothing particularly special about her physique. Even if there was, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. I’d had every kind of female there was.

  With Emma, there was something different that went beyond outer appearance. There was a vulnerability in her, but one mixed with a kind of strength. After hours of replaying her looking up and into my face, I finally realized that. The biggest appeal of her went beyond the physical — but also increased the physical. She was pretty, yes, but beautiful because of something deep inside of her.

  I wanted to find that deeper part. Wanted to wind my fingers through it, conquer it. Make it mine.

  Stripping fully, I stepped into the shower and let the hot stream hit my back. Rolling my neck around to get the kinks out, I let my thoughts drift back to plans for the next weekend. As soon as I got out of the shower, I would get started. I would make those two days ones that she’d remember for the rest of her life.

  My cock twitched, and I reached down to run my hand along it. Emma’s full, pink lips parted, so real they seemed to be there in the shower with me.

  I could fuck her right there. That was one option. Lift her leg up and press her against the glass, her wet hair clinging to her skin, her open mouth screaming for more.

  Clutching my shaft harder, I stroked its entire length, concentrating on the tip. Warmth flooded me, and I pumped faster. I could smell Emma’s hair, feel her soft cheek against my own face, the bite of her nails in my back.

  She’d be tight, her walls clutching at me, pulsing when she came, my name echoing…

  Unexpectedly, I came hard, fast, groaning into the spray.

  With a shuddering breath, I turned my face up into the water, my desire hardly close to satiated.

  Nothing would truly please me ever again, I knew, until I had a real taste of that green-eyed good girl.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Emma

  “You’re biting your nails,” Jess announced.

  “I know.” I dropped my hand in my lap where I began wringing my fingers together, the anxiety too much to bear. “You don’t have to wait here with me. Don’t you have to be at work?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, but I want to. Even if I get fired, it’ll be worth it. I want to see what kind of car he sends.”

  The doorbell buzzed, and Jess practically flew up from the couch. She bounded over to the door and pressed the intercom. “Who is it?”

  “The car for Miss Emerson.”

  She turned to me. “That’s you,” she said, practically squealing the words before turning serious and asking, “Remember the code word?”

  “Dry cleaners.”

  “Right.”

  It was a phrase we’d set up with Laine upon becoming roommates. If any of us were ever in trouble and needed help, we were to either text or call using the code phrase dry cleaners. The other roommate would then know something serious was afoot and call the police. There was no way a cry for help would ever get mistaken for an actual need to stop by the dry cleaners because none of us used that service. Not even Laine, with her endless supply of polos and button-ups.

  I picked up my backpack that I’d loaded with clothes and toiletries for the weekend. On last thought, I’d thrown a text book in there, thinking maybe I’d get in a little studying. After all, I had no clue what Niall had planned for me. Perhaps there would be some down time in between all the sex.

  All the sex.

  I shivered at the thought, delicious anticipation mixed with fear. I could hardly believe what I was doing, but there I was, doing it.

  Jess ran to the living room window and pressed herself against the glass so she could gaze down into the street. “Ooh, it’s a good one. You’re gonna be happy.”

  “Here’s hoping.”

  “Good luck,” she sang out as I grabbed my keys and walked past her.

  The car waiting downstairs was a limo. The driver stood at the back door, holding it open for me.

  “Thank you,” I murmured to him, not willing to look at his face. Did he know that I was a regular suburban raised college girl headed out for a weekend of sex with a local billionaire tycoon?

  I practiced steady breathing for the ride to the penthouse. I knew exactly where Niall lived, having taken liberties to look up every detail I could find of him online.

  Soon it became obvious the limo wasn’t headed for the penthouse. I didn’t exactly know Chicago like the back of my hand, but a few years there gave me a pretty good general understanding of its streets.

  I searched for the button that would roll down the partition hiding me from the driver.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “Where are we headed?”

  “To the spa,” he announced.

  “The spa?”

  “Yes. Mr. Lambert requested that you be taken there.”

  “Oh.”

  I sat back in my seat, more confused than ever. I wanted to ask more questions but didn’t want to expose myself too much to the driver. A spa? Was Niall there, waiting to partake in a couples’ massage?

  I almost laughed out loud at the thought. I didn’t really know the man, but from the small taste I’d gotten of him that just didn’t seem likely.

  I pulled my phone out and texted Jess to let her know what was happening.

  She responded right away: He wants to prep you.

  “Prep me?” I whispered out loud, looking out the window at the buildings flashing by. Sunset engulfed the city, bringing promises of the weekend.

  For me, those promises were still mysteries. So Niall wanted to prepare me. Hopefully, his idea of doing so didn’t involve full body waxing.

  The salon the limo took me to had fallen straight out of the pages of a magazine. It was the kind you would find in a list with a title like Top Ten Salons in America. The second I walked through the doors, I was offered a glass of champagne. At first, I declined, thinking I needed to remain sober and level headed, but, on second thought, decided it might be better if I was the opposite.

  The treatment didn’t involve waxing, but I was scrubbed and polished, then sat in a chair to get my nails and hair done. Amid calming piano music and the bubbling of indoor fountains, my hair was pulled back into an elaborate updo and my fingers and toes were painted in a soft tan color. A makeup artist came in and worked her magic on me and then I was taken to a private room where my clothes waited.

  Perplexed,
I went into the lavender-colored room, wearing the fluffy white robe I’d been given when I arrived. I looked around the room, but my jeans and shirt were nowhere to be found. When I saw the simple black dress hanging in the room, I understood. Apparently, Niall didn’t trust his women to dress themselves.

  I ran my hands over the cocktail dress, feeling the soft fabric. It was very high quality and probably cost ten to twenty times more than what I usually spent on clothes. The lingerie was sinful, black lace that felt like feathers to the touch. I felt like I’d entered a fairytale as I slipped the dress on over my head. The high heels placed next to it complimented the dress perfectly. How did he know my size?

  I took a moment to admire myself in the floor length mirror. I hadn’t looked so done up since high school prom. Actually, prom didn’t come close to what I was currently experiencing. There was no way my pink sequined prom dress came from the same place the cocktail dress did.

  Trying not to wring my hands, I went back out to the lobby. The limo driver waited for me there, holding my backpack which I hoped contained the clothes I’d arrived in. He opened the door for me, and we were off. This time, the destination really was Niall’s building. Pulling up in front of it, I recognized it from Google images.

  A tall man dressed in a black sports jacket waited outside. The second the limo came to a stop, he jumped forward and opened the door for me.

  A little uncertain, I climbed out. Just how many people were in on this whole shebang?

  “Good evening, Miss Emerson,” his deep voice rumbled. “Let me take that for you.”

  I handed the bag over but kept my cell phone clutched tightly in my hand. The man led me into the building and past the concierge’s desk, then to the elevator.

  “Take this to the top floor,” he instructed, then hit the button to shut the elevator door.

  I opened my mouth to protest — after all, the strange man still had my bag — but he was already gone, and I was flying skywards, the numbers ticking by. With each floor, my nerves increased. I looked down at my hands, noted they were shaking.