It was beyond voyeurism. Yet it only whet his appetite for more of her. God, the things he wanted her to do for him.
He stroked her shoulder. She didn’t stir. “Thank you, Manuel, I appreciate your participation. I trust we didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
A passing car lit Manuel’s face, and his smile. “It was my pleasure to help out, sir.”
When he had need of a driver, he always chose Manuel. And it just so happened that Manuel also drove for Courtesans. Coincidence? He preferred to think of it as providence.
She turned then, as if she’d heard his thought. Providence. Divine intervention. She opened her lovely eyes, pushed her hair back from her face, and gazed at him through long lashes.
“That was incredible,” she whispered, her voice almost reverent in the quiet 218
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glide of the car along the street.
He nodded, oddly overcome, with no words better than hers. She pushed herself up, twisted slightly to look out the side window. “Where are we?”
“On our way home.”
She blinked. It was enough of a question.
“My home.”
She didn’t argue, didn’t ask if Manuel was coming in to fuck her, too, or if Dax would take her alone this time. She simply laid her head down upon his lap and wound one arm around his waist. “Wake me when we get there.”
SHE SHOULD HAVE CARED WHERE HE WAS TAKING HER AND WHAT he planned for her once they got there. She should have called Isabel or someone at Courtesans to let them know where she’d be. Instead she simply snuggled into the warmth of his body, his salty male scent teasing her, the gentle glide of his fingers over her skin lulling her.
The car rocked into the turns, then finally slowed to a stop. She heard them talking but was too sated to listen.
This was better than Pistachio Crème and Blue Moon all rolled into one. First the rooftop dinner, the sexy talk, sharing secrets, then the hardness of his cock inside her and the heat of Manuel’s gaze, his tongue caressing her fingers. The car door opened, and she felt herself lifted against Dax’s firm chest, her shoes dangling from one hand. She wasn’t petite and couldn’t fathom how he carried her so easily. Cold air caressed her, the salt of the ocean tickled her nose, the crash of waves was like music.
He lived on the edge of cliff overlooking the ocean outside the Golden Gate. With the beep of a remote he unlocked his front door. The aroma of expensive leather permeated the house. A wall of windows stretched across the back, only blackness beyond.
Upstairs in the bedroom, he let her feet slide to the floor. Holding her against him, pulling her arms around his neck to steady her, he reached behind to unzip her dress. He backed off, allowing the silk to pool at her feet, then lifted her out of it.
“Get into bed, sleepyhead.”
She wasn’t sleepy, she was dazed, and she adored the way he pampered her. 219
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No one had ever carried her before.
She was wet for a slow, lazy fuck in his big bed. When he raised the covers, she slid between cotton sheets. The soft pad of his feet headed across the carpet, a light went on, water ran, sounds, the rustle of clothing.
Then his warm body heated her back. “Spread your legs,” he murmured, his breath minty with toothpaste.
What delicious thing did he have planned now? She parted her thighs. Draping her leg over his, he pressed a heated washcloth against her pussy. Oh God. He was cleaning her, soothing the flesh he’d ridden.
“God, that feels good.”
“You worked hard. You deserve it.”
She tipped her head back to look at him. He was an inky spot in the dark. “I was very naughty for you.”
“Yes, you were. It was too fucking hot for words.”
She laughed from deep in her belly, satisfied. He leaned back and tossed the washcloth. It landed with a wet thwap, then he surrounded her.
“Go to sleep, baby.” His voice was like a lullaby. She was sure he’d wake her in the night and take her. Again and again. She fell asleep dreaming about his tongue on her.
She woke twice to the darkness and his even breathing. He never moved, never let her go.
In her chest, something grew. In her sweetest fantasies, she’d dreamed of this, a hot, naughty episode, one special man watching, even participating, then afterward, his heat all over her.
She’d never been able to ask it of her husbands, not any of them. She hadn’t stopped wanting the men she’d married; she’d just needed excitement. It had become an obsession. Each time. Ruining everything. She’d hated herself for cheating.
But what if she’d had this? A man whose excitement peaked when other men wanted her. His voyeuristic needs fueling her desires. She fell asleep once more to dream of Dax watching her go down on another man.
In the morning, he was gone, the bed and the house empty. Her stomach trembled. He’d left her cash and a note.
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“When’s your next Courtesan date?”
Thank you, God. For a moment, she’d thought he was giving her the brushoff. For the first time in a long time, she couldn’t bear not to see a man again. This man.
She held the note to her chest. Her heart swelled. Infatuation. Lust at first sight. It was exactly what she’d been waiting for. 221
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5
“TELL ME ABOUT HIM,” DAX CAJOLED HER.
Almost two weeks later, Thursday night, ten p.m. Dax lay naked on the bed, lights off, Bluetooth in his ear, cock in his hand, Noelle’s voice making him hard.
“He’s close to six feet, a hundred and ninety pounds, nice, thick medium brown hair, brown eyes, about my age, a very nice smile and—” She paused; Dax could hear the rumble of a male voice, then she laughed, the music of it making his dick twitch. “And he told me to tell you he’s incredibly hot.”
“Do you think he’s hot?”
“Mmm.” The purr thrummed along his cock.
“Have you ever done him before?”
“No, he’s new. From—” She paused again. “Fargo, North Da kota. Can you believe that? Just like the movie. It’s snowing back there.”
“Tell him to get naked, but I want you to keep your clothes on.”
She snapped her fingers right near the mouthpiece. “Off. Now.”
She’d gone on three dates since he’d seen her, and after each one, she’d called him, described in detail the things she’d done, turning him inside out with her erotic words and sexy voice. Then on Tuesday, she’d informed him she’d arranged a date for Thursday night with a guy willing to play their game, allowing Dax to listen in. The man probably found it hot as hell. She was going in hands free and plugged in, ready to do anything. It was too fucking hot. Dax had always wanted this. He’d once had a woman friend who called him after she’d fucked another guy, but he’d never had every facet illustrated for him, punctuated by the emotion she felt and the sounds she made.
He’d never had a woman like Noelle. She was addictive. The night she’d lain in his arms had been heaven. He’d never slept so well, hated to leave her in the morning, and he wouldn’t have except for an early golf date with a major supplier. If he’d known the effect she would have, literally enthralling him, he’d have canceled the game despite the fact that a lot of business was conducted over golf.
“Oh my God, Dax, he’s huge.” Awe dripped from her voice. Male laughter drifted to him. He closed his eyes and lightly stroked his dick. 222
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Not too much yet; he wanted his tension to rise as theirs did, as if he were in the room.
“Describe it to me.”
She made little noises, and a deep voice reached across the distance. “That’s it, baby, take a real good look.” She’d obviously moved closer.
“I’m down on my knees, Dax. He’s longer than my hand, and when I wrap my fingers around him, they don’t overlap.”
He pictured her stroking, felt her tou
ch on his cock, his balls tightening. A groan rumbled across the phone.
“He likes that,” she said. “He’s hard already.”
“Fuck, sweetheart.” The male voice was tinny with the slight distance to Noelle’s earphone. “Listening to you tell your boyfriend all about it makes me fucking crazy.”
It made Dax nuts, too. He pumped faster, twisting his wrist, stroking from base to tip until a bead of pre-come oozed from his slit. He palmed his crown and coated his dick.
“Pour some lube on him,” Dax demanded. “I want him real slippery for you.”
He wanted to hear it.
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, laughter threaded through her voice.
“Holy shit,” the guy muttered, groaning again. “This is fucking kinky, sweetheart, and I love it.”
Dax liked the term of endearment rather than a curse. Noelle deserved respect. She was more exceptional than her client could ever grasp. He visualized it all behind his closed lids, as if he were there with the light musk of semen permeating the air. Grabbing the lube, he drizzled a small amount over his cock. She was stroking his dick, crooning to him.
“Tell me how you like his cock,” he whispered to her. Her breath came faster, light puffs in the mouthpiece. “He’s so smooth. His balls are shaved, and they feel so good in my hand. When I squeeze like this, he makes all these sexy sounds.”
Dax heard them, a low growl, a rumble in the throat, soft words in a deep voice, shit, fuck, baby.
“Reach up and pinch his nipples.”
A harsh gasp, a sharp exhale, then a hiss. “Bitch.”
In this case, it was a term of endearment.
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“He likes that a lot. He just flopped flat on the bed, with his feet on the floor while I work him.”
Dax imitated the position and pinched his own nipple. She was so perfect. He should have thought of paying a woman to do this years ago. Then again, he wouldn’t have found Noelle. Right time, right woman. Providence.
“Tell me how it makes you feel,” he urged. He needed her emotions as much as anything.
“Powerful. He’s putty in my hands, his flesh is all mine. I can make him do anything.”
The cock’s owner grunted, refuting her, then in almost the same moment, he cursed, groaned. She did own him.
“I love cock, Dax, the way it feels, all that smooth flesh marred only by the veins along it, how hard it feels yet how utterly soft against my palm, how it pulses, the way it changes color, almost purple right there”—pause, a shocked male gasp; she must have done something extraordinary—“his crown all covered in his own come. My mouth waters . . .” Her voice finally trailed off. His head was going to explode.
“Suck him,” he whispered, the devil in her ear. The warm, wet sound of it filled his mind. Her lips were on him, the way they’d been in the car, pulling, sucking, teasing, biting.
“Give him the phone.”
She moaned, a hollow sound, her mouth full. “Uh-uh.”
“Yes. I want him to tell me.”
She suckled, slurped; it drove him wild, but he needed more. “I want him to describe how it feels. I want you to know how much he loves it, baby. Do it now.”
She let out a low moan, swallowed, then the sexy sounds ceased. “Yes, Dax.”
The breathy quality of her voice, need lacing her words, tied him in knots. The phone crackled and rustled, her fingers fumbling over the mouthpiece.
“Man, you two are fucking nuts,” the guy said once he had her earphone in.
“I fucking love it. Christ, if I had a woman like her, I wouldn’t need to pay.”
He didn’t say his name; Dax didn’t ask. But he totally agreed with the sentiment. With a woman like Noelle, a man would never need anyone else. Ever.
“Tell her to suck you.”
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“He says get busy sucking me, baby.” The guy emphasized the line with a dirty laugh.
“How does she feel?” Dax needed to know.
“Fucking good. Really hard on the tip until I feel like my fucking head will blow.”
Dax shared the sensation. He didn’t know what this was called, whether it was voyeurism or something completely new and undefined. Whatever it was, her lips sucked him just as she sucked this nameless, faceless stranger. His eyes closed, the touch on his cock was hers, not his own, the ache in his balls was destined for her mouth.
“More.” He could barely manage the word.
“Oh fuck. She’s taken me so damn deep down her throat.” The groan was gut-deep. He panted, swore, and beneath it all, Dax detected her moans and sighs.
“Christ, I wanna fuck her. Christ, she’s so fucking good. How can she do that to a man? How can she take my dick so far? God, my nuts are full. It almost fucking hurts.” He cried out. “Oh fuck, oh shit, she pinched my fucking nipple.”
Dax felt the white-hot streak of pain himself, and his cock became impossibly hard in his fist. “Come in her mouth.”
On the other end, in the heaven between her lips, the guy choked, sobbed, begged. “Oh man, her lips, her mouth, her teeth, all those little bites. It’s like she can’t get enough of me, like she’s devouring me.” Then he shouted. Dax exploded. He emptied himself and gave it all to her. He shot high into the night, became one with a man he didn’t know, and together they fucked Noelle’s mouth.
He’d never come harder, better, longer. It was more than double the pleasure. It was life-altering. She wasn’t even there, and he knew he’d finally found that precious something he’d searched so long for. A woman who was so sexual, so open, so uninhibited, so in love with sex itself she would never stop surprising him. She was undoubtedly the perfect match for his appetite, a woman he couldn’t tire of, a lady who wouldn’t eventually look upon him with disgust.
He willed her to call him when she was done. He needed one more thing from her tonight. Just one thing, and he would be utterly replete.
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CHUCK, HER CLIENT, INSISTED ON GOING DOWN ON HER, GIVING her an orgasm, making sure she was satisfied. As if it were his duty, when her pleasure was really not a prerequisite.
Noelle could have done without the orgasm. She’d wanted to snatch the Bluetooth out of Chuck’s ear. Dax was gone when she finally regained possession. Damn.
She left the hotel giddy, as if she’d downed three glasses of bubbly. Champagne always made her light-headed, but this time it was Dax’s voice dizzying her on the other end of the phone. He was her alcohol. This was the fourth date she’d gone on since she’d met him, and it had come to the point where calling him before, during, or after was more important than the date or the client. His voice was the adrenaline shot, the drug in her veins. She needed that breathless, heart-racing, pulse-pounding kick that only he gave her. But tonight, it had been above and beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Was she really that good? Sure she knew how to make men come. But listening to Charles Winstead IV, king of a North Da kotan manure empire, extolling her cocksucking virtues over the phone . . . it had done something to her. Set her free. Pushed her to never-before-reached heights. She wanted Dax to know what she was capable of, as if she were sucking him right through the phone. Swallowing him. His unique, sexy, spicy scent had filled her head. Chuck was merely a conduit.
In the back of the cab, she rattled off the address, dizzy with anticipation. Excitement thrummed in the pit of her stomach. Like being sixteen years old, waiting for a phone call asking her to babysit, her hand in the air right over the receiver so her mom couldn’t get to it before she did. Ah, then the sweet caress of his voice and the fear: Would he look at her differently tonight, see her as a woman, touch her?
What if Dax didn’t answer the door? What if he answered, then closed it in her face? What if he dragged her in and fucked the hell out of her? God, she just wanted to see him. Honest, she’d be satisfied with that. His voice on the phone—he couldn’t know what that had d
one to her. Even now, she was wet and close to the edge. So close that she sighed and parted her legs, catching the cabby’s eyes in the mirror. Maybe she could tease Dax with a story of how she’d masturbated in the backseat on the way over. Then he wouldn’t throw her out. 226
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This was lust and infatuation. Part of the high was the uncertainty, the giddiness, the ups, the downs, and everything in between. Her fingers itched to punch his number into her cell. But what if he told her not to come over? God, she loved this manic feeling. She was alive with it, every nerve sensitized, stretched, on edge. You couldn’t get this from sex alone. No, you had to have the emotion, too.
The cab pulled to a stop at the gate. His home was a freaking seaside estate, but the driveway gate was just for show. She’d discovered that morning a couple of weeks ago that the wooden gate beside the brick column wasn’t locked. Climbing out, she gave the cabby a bill and a smile. “Could you wait please?”
It would be embarrassing if Dax turned her away and she was stuck. He was standing in the open doorway as she climbed his steps, silhouetted against the wall of windows over the ocean. Not a single light burned. She couldn’t see his eyes, yet intensity sizzled off him. She reached him. Snagging her with one hand at her nape, his fingers curled into her hair. She had to rise up on her toes to touch her lips to his mouth. That first kiss was electric. His lips taking hers, his tongue invading and conquering, stealing her thoughts, her soul. He smelled so good, she wanted to melt into him, and he tasted all minty and sweet. Hard muscles melded to hers, as if she were becoming a part of him. And she was completely taken. He let her go. She licked his taste from her lips.
“You taste like him.”
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