Seven Nights of Sin

by Lacey Alexander

  Without the lull of intoxication clouding her head, it seemed all the more amazing. Who had she been last night? New Brenna, definitely. But apparently the new her was willing to go to extremes she’d never even imagined.

  She suffered no regrets. Just a hint of sadness when she looked at him.

  Because he was like a toy she couldn’t keep. And so she would play with him as much as possible while she had him, but she knew every bit of the play would be tainted with the knowledge that she’d soon have to give him up.

  Silly, she chided herself. She was acting like she really knew him, like there were emotions involved here.

  But there weren’t—there couldn’t be, because she didn’t know him. Not really. And because she had a feeling Damon Andros didn’t do relationships. And even if he did, it wouldn’t matter once he found out she’d been lying to him.

  God, I can’t ever let him know. Whatever happened, however this all came down, she had to keep her involvement in it quiet. Because maybe she didn’t really know him, but she knew him well enough now that she’d die if he found out what an underhanded, conniving lowlife she was being—all to get a glamorous job.

  From what she could tell, he was naked, too, wearing nothing but his earrings and the small cross she’d noticed on a chain around his neck last night. Mmm, he looked good.

  Even better when he turned to face her, hair mussed, eyes slowly opening. “Hey,” he said, a sleepy smile gracing his face, the lower half of which was covered with a dark, sexy stubble.

  She smiled back. “Hey.”

  “Come here,” he said, voice low and persuasive. She didn’t hesitate to roll into his cozy embrace. Odd how easy it was, how normal it felt, to press her naked body against his, even though they’d never done that before. His warmth kindled in her a fresh desire as he kissed her good morning.

  God, he was perfect—he didn’t even have morning breath.

  Which made her fear that she did. She backed slightly away, hoping she was wrong, and hoping he didn’t see her distress. She was so not used to casual sex or waking up with a guy she didn’t know well. “I have a confession to make,” she announced.

  He arched one sleepy brow. “Oh?”

  “I, uh…don’t exactly remember what happened after we got here last night. I’m…not very good with hard liquor.”

  He cast a naughty look. “Wrong, babe—you were very good.” Then he winked. “But nothing happened after we came back here—unfortunately. We just crawled into bed and went to sleep.”

  She lowered her chin slightly, peering at him from her pillow. “Sorry about that.”

  His eyes shone as warm and sexual as always—but she’d not yet begun to get used to it. “Maybe you can make it up to me.”

  Suddenly remembering the closet, his hands, and the rough, welcome entry of his cock, her pussy tingled. “I’ll do my best.”

  In response, his palm closed over her hip, heating her further—and she forgot all about the possibility of bad breath as she instinctively leaned nearer, nearer, until their mouths collided.

  The kiss fueled her desire so much that she found herself wanting to touch his penis, wrap her fingers around it, make it hard. But she was feeling just a little more shy than last night, so instead she only splayed her hand across his muscular chest, liking how hard he felt there, too.

  One hot kiss melted into another until Damon drifted downward, his mouth descending to her neck. And just like last night, the simple affection delivered a pleasure that stretched all through her, even as the stubble on his chin gently chafed her skin, adding still more sensation.

  Soon, his tongue raked over one nipple as his hand closed over her other breast. Gasping, she instinctively thrust her chest deeper into his grasp—and his mouth. The swirl of his tongue around the wet tip of her breast made her crazy with lust, and she found herself looping one leg across his to draw him closer. What a few seconds before had been licking now turned to sucking, and he drew the sensitive peak deep, deeper into his mouth, shooting a blast of hot delight straight to her cunt.

  Which is when her gaze landed on the digital clock on his side of the bed.

  “Damon,” she breathed, fingers threading through his thick hair. “Damon—what time is our meeting with Blush?”

  He released her nipple from his mouth, his breath warming the pink bud when he said, “Eight. Why?”

  Her lust deflated. “It’s twenty ’til.”

  “Shit,” he whispered, and they both went still—until he lowered one soft, gentle kiss to the flesh directly next to her nipple and said, “To be continued.”

  That quickly, he’d turned her just as feral and wild as she’d felt last night. “Definitely. I still have lots to make up for, and I expect you to hold me to it.”

  “Damn straight,” he growled.

  As she pulled away to roll out of bed, Brenna wanted to howl her frustration but held it in. Oh God, how she wanted him. Only more slowly this time. She wanted to explore his body, top to bottom. She wanted to kiss him more. Touch him. Let him touch her. She wanted more of those sumptuous treats at her breasts. She wanted him between her legs. She wanted everything.

  Yet duty called, and they both knew it. Thus, moments later, she found herself back in her own room, shedding the white robe she’d grabbed from Damon’s enormous bathroom, ready for the shower. Damon had offered his bathroom, but since they were late and all of her things were here, she’d declined.

  Only when she passed by the wide bathroom mirror did she notice she still wore her jewelry from last night. The sight made her pause in place. Naked, with her hair mussed, she thought she looked…incredibly hot. Given that it remained a very new feeling for her, she relished it, so much that she almost wanted to stand there and study herself awhile and forget the shower.

  Yet sense prevailed—along with the knowledge that the sooner she showered, the sooner she would see Damon again. In a hurry after the quick soap and rinse, she dressed simply—jeans and a fitted blouse—but still hoped she looked the part of an A&R rep.

  When she knocked on the door of Damon’s lavish suite a few minutes later, he greeted her with a kiss hello. Work like this she could get used to.

  But she was glad she hadn’t said that.

  Because what happened in Vegas would stay in Vegas, she remembered.

  And that was actually a good thing because of that nasty little deception taking place between herself and the object of her affection.

  When the band showed up at Damon’s suite at eight sharp, Brenna finally understood why he needed so much room. Despite the number of people at the meeting, the suite still felt large and comfortable, and it was easy to see the young women were impressed by it, and thus by Blue Night.

  Over a large room service breakfast of eggs, bacon, muffins, and more, Brenna listened as Damon went over the terms they were offering. Until she got well-established in her job, she’d need to talk with him or Jenkins about deals before making them, but Jenkins had trusted Damon with the task for years now.

  She paid close attention to the dealings, noting that, as Damon had promised was usually the case, the band seemed happy at the very notion of being paid to make a CD and, though they had lots of questions, were agreeable and easy to get along with, at least for now.

  Of course, from time to time, Brenna’s mind drifted, memories of last night flitting through her head: her hand around his amazing cock, his mouth suckling so hard and tight at her breast, the powerful way he’d thrust up into her. It was still hard to believe. Not only that Damon Andros wanted her. But that she’d fucked him in a closet! In a bar!

  And as she tried to refocus on the business at hand, she kept her smile inside, thinking that Kelly would be so proud.

  Two

  Recording contracts, Brenna learned, contained a lot of details and required a lot of explanation, at least with girls as smart as the members of Blush, who asked Damon probably a hundred questions before the deal was reached and the meeting ended ju
st before noon.

  When the band left, Brenna admitted that she could use some additional explanations on certain clauses herself, so Damon suggested they talk about it poolside as there was no more pressing work until this evening, when they would hit a few more clubs. As luck had it, Kelly had insisted Brenna add a sexy bikini to her new wardrobe, which Brenna had thought silly and frivolous—but she’d relented and now possessed a hot-pink two-piece with a short matching sarong.

  Returning to her room to change, she felt thankful, too, that she went to the expense of hitting the tanning bed a couple of times a week. She wasn’t much of a sun-worshipper, but a little color made her look and feel healthier—especially when she slipped into her new suit.

  Taking a glimpse back into the bathroom mirror, she couldn’t deny that she looked sexy. Like the new bras she’d bought, the pink underwire triangles lifted her breasts to make them look pretty and plump, and the scant bottoms showed off her slender tummy. Peering at her reflection, she made a mental note to fall to her knees thanking Kelly the next time she saw her. Apparently, she did need a man, she did need a penis, and she did need a fuchsia bikini—and from now on, she planned to follow any and every piece of advice Kelly doled out.

  Slipping on the wedged, glittery flip-flops Kelly had insisted completed the look, she left her room to find Damon approaching her door. He wore stylish trunks of black with red slashes up the sides, along with his usual earrings and that silver cross she’d first noticed last night.

  “Damn, babe,” he said appreciatively, letting his gaze rake over her from head to toe. The warmth of a blush climbed her cheeks, but only because she wasn’t used to such open praise of her body, let alone liking it.

  When they walked onto the rooftop pool and out into the desert heat, Brenna felt overwhelmed by luxury. While the pool itself was large but simple, the surroundings were grand. Hundreds of elegant lounge chairs set amid huge stone pots cradling well-manicured trees and immense stone columns upholding wrought-iron arches strung with vines. Beyond the pool area, the Venetian’s clock tower spired skyward between the Mirage and Caesars Palace in the distance.

  As they settled in two chairs rimming the pool’s edge, Brenna began to notice all the “beautiful people” lounging about. Oh, certainly there were people of all types—older folks on vacation, a few young families—but she immediately felt outnumbered and intimidated by all the glamour girls in barely-there bikinis and the hip, cool guys hiding their eyes behind sunglasses by Versace and Prada. One would think that after living in Los Angeles and working in the music business for three years she’d have grown used to such people, but this was different—because suddenly she was among them, with a guy who was one of them, and she supposed, in order to keep his affections, she wanted to be one of them today, too.

  Not far from where they’d stretched out over towels spread across their chairs, a brunette wearing a narrow black cowboy hat and a black thong bikini lay on her stomach atop a large concrete pillar in the pool that rose just above the water’s surface. She sported a sun tattoo at the small of her back and she rested propped on her elbows, showing so much cleavage that Brenna was surprised her nipples weren’t exposed. Another scantily clad girl, this one a blonde in a gold-lamé bikini, her firm breasts bulging from too-small triangles, stood in the water next to her, smoothing sunscreen over her back.

  The girl in black sipped a fruity-looking concoction from a plastic cup, and expensive sunglasses shaded her eyes as she looked up—toward them. “Why, if it isn’t Damon Andros. Aren’t you even going to say hello, baby?”

  Oh hell. No wonder she’d been intimidated. Since Damon was one of the beautiful people, that meant he also knew beautiful people, and apparently he knew this one in particular, whose perfectly tan, round ass Brenna couldn’t help but envy.

  Damon turned toward the voice. “Tawny. What are you doing here?”

  The brunette grinned. “Just catchin’ some rays, baby. And you?”

  Oh God, her name was Tawny. And now she was introducing her friend, whose name was Honey, and when Damon asked Tawny how things were at the club and she told him he should stop by, she got the distinct impression both girls were strippers. And that Damon knew Tawny via her work. Which meant, of course, that he’d seen her naked. And she’d probably given him a lap dance. Or twenty. And had quite possibly had sex with him, since any sane woman would if she could.

  Swell.

  But you can’t let this get you down. After all, you know he has a lot of casual sex. Everyone knew that about Damon—and even if you didn’t know it for sure, one look at him told you. And this wasn’t going to matter at the end of the week anyway, because what happened here was going to stay here.

  Although if what happened in Vegas had to stay in Vegas…well, Brenna was going to squeeze in as much pleasure as she possibly could before she left.

  That’s when she heard Damon introduce her and made sure to smile just as smugly as Tawny was smiling at her. Tawny offered a thin-lipped “Hi,” which Brenna smoothly returned.

  It wasn’t that she wanted to lower herself to acting like a bitch just because Tawny and Honey were, but she also wasn’t going to be Little Mary Sunshine and let them think they could steal her man. In fact, she was going to go one step further.

  Rising from her chaise, she moved over to Damon’s, parking her rear next to him, effectively blocking the view of the two bikini-wearing vultures, and handing him the bottle of sunscreen she’d packed with her bathing suit.

  “Will you do my back, Damon?” she asked, giving him her best come-hither look. Although, realistically, she wasn’t sure she even had a come-hither look, but she was trying, and Damon got her so hot with a mere glance that it inspired her.

  “Of course,” he said, taking the bottle and making her feel supremely victorious.

  As the afternoon progressed, they ordered lunch from the grill—washing it down with a couple of fruity concoctions of their own—and went over the contract Blush had just signed, talking more about the particulars.

  From time to time, other women who knew Damon approached—and Brenna struggled to keep her blood from boiling, instead just sticking out her chest, bending one knee, and trying to look as sexy and sophisticated as her competition. Still, with every sexy girl who talked to Damon, Brenna couldn’t deny growing more jealous, feeling unduly possessive of her new man.

  Which was bad, she knew. This could go nowhere, and even if it could, she had a feeling that no one possessed Damon Andros. The fact was—she was lucky just to be with him for this short time. It was like a gift, she thought. A karmic gift. The universe’s hot little way of making up for her cheating husband.

  But the more prickly pear mojitos she drank, the less she was able to reason and the more rank jealousy filled her veins. Until finally, just after a blonde bombshell in a slinky one-piece cut all the way to her navel departed, Brenna did what she was getting pretty good at doing the last day or so: following her urges.

  Aware that Tawny and Honey were still observing from lounge chairs not far away, Brenna set her mojito cup on the ground and stood up, moving to Damon’s chair. He was still talking sales and distribution when she stretched out alongside him.

  He offered a soft but steamy grin, their faces close now. “What’s this?”

  “This is me thinking that all work and no play makes Damon a dull boy.”

  He arched a skeptical brow. “Dull? Me? Come on, babe.”

  He had a point. So she let her expression form into a sexy pout. “Okay, maybe not. But all work and no play definitely makes Brenna want to play.” And with that, she slid one arm around his shoulders and eased the other onto that broad chest dusted with dark hair, then leaned in for a kiss.

  Was it bad that knowing Tawny and Honey and probably half the women at the pool were watching made her feel even sexier? At the moment, she didn’t care. And Damon didn’t seem to mind her affections, since he kissed her back, his lush mouth moving on hers, making her cream
her bikini bottoms.

  “Let’s get in the water,” he said low, near her ear.

  She would have preferred to make out some more, but so long as he was with her, paying attention to her and only her, she wouldn’t argue.

  Descending the nearby stairs into the pool, step by slow step, Brenna hissed in her breath upon meeting the cold water.

  “Come on in, babe,” he said, his gaze turning downright wicked. “Don’t you want to get wet with me?”

  The enticing words drew her straight down into the pool with only one gasp in response to the cold, after which her body quickly adjusted, heating up from mere anticipation.

  Damon took her hands to pull her deeper, until the water came to chest level. Then he leaned in to press his mouth back to hers, his slow, lingering kisses reverberating all the way to her toes, his palms molding warmly to her hips beneath the water. As her breasts brushed his chest, sending a fresh spark of arousal all through her, he glanced down, so she did, too, to see her nipples erect and jutting at the hot-pink Lycra.

  His voice came low and smoky. “Do you know what I want to do to you right now?”

  She struggled not to let herself tremble with lust. “Tell me.” She’d never gotten into dirty talk before. Well, before last night. And now she wanted more of it. “Tell me,” she said again, throatier this time.

  “I want to peel this sexy top off your pretty tits and lick those hard, pink nipples.”

  She swallowed, feeling the words in her cunt, and when he let his hand rise from the water just long enough to stroke the tip of his thumb across the peak of her breast, her pussy surged so hard she thought she would come.

  Oh God, had he just done that—here? He had—and she loved it.

  “What else?” she asked, eager for more.

  His low rasp was downright intoxicating. “I want to take your skimpy little bottoms off, too, spread your legs wide, and taste your sweet pussy.”

  Instinctually, her arms looped loosely around his neck and she shimmied her breasts against his chest again, hungry for more sensation there. Despite all the people at the pool, no one was near them in the wide expanse of water, and she looked around, feeling at once alone yet crowded.