Special Session

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by Marie Carnay




  Special Session

  Marie Carnay

  Book 4 in the Degree After Dark series. It is advisable to read the books in order to get the most enjoyment from the series.

  Rebounds are a girl’s best friend. After breaking up with her boyfriend, Leah travels to a math conference to get away. Regroup. When a sexy older man hits on her at the bar, she’s intrigued. When he suggests a threesome, even better. His friend is his exact opposite, but just as sexy. A swank suite upstairs, two sexy men, a full bottle of champagne and a bed the size of her apartment back home. She’s sold. It will be the best special session of the conference. No speaking required.

  Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

  An Exotika® contemporary erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

  Special Session

  Marie Carnay

  Chapter One

  Her fingers traced the cardinal’s outline, running over its feathers dipped in crimson, its beak as yellow as the summer sun. Covered in the candy-wrapper sheen of new ink, the bird’s wings unfurled beneath Leah’s ankle, eager to launch into the wind and explore the unknown. I wish Ben and I had taken flight, she thought as she stared at the tattoo. Stretched our wings and soared.

  During their relationship, he’d been wonderful. The model boyfriend. Getting up early to make her coffee, bringing home flowers just to make her smile. His thoughtfulness wrapped her in a blanket she snuggled in all winter long. But when the weather changed, the snuggle turned to suffocation and the cable knit made her sweat and itch.

  She thought back to the first night in her office when Ben had opened up to her, shown her his tattoo and divulged his history. The night they’d hopped on, buckled in, and rode her desk like a roller coaster. Twisting and turning, looping and diving until they both felt weightless and alive.

  But after the ride—after the carnival lights disappeared into the dark—the real Ben emerged. The sensible guy who drank beer once a week and never pushed a boundary. The guy who’d never again ride that rickety pop-up coaster to touch the stars and grass in a single breath.

  When the school year ended, she’d let him down easy with an I’m-no-good-for-you-let’s-just-be-friends pep talk. Then she’d gone out, drained a bottle of vodka, and gotten the tattoo.

  It wasn’t as magnificent as the cardinal flying over Ben’s back, emerging from the tattooed smoke of his past to fly into his future. But the small bird spoke to her all the same—wings, delicate yet strong, fanning out on her skin with plumes of cherry feathers reminding her to soar.

  Her only other tattoo, a trail of stars behind her ear, reminded Leah of her first love. A boy musician striving to be a shining star the whole world could see. He’d shown her things too, opened himself up to her, opened her body up to him, and they’d learned a lot about life and sex and love all those years ago. In the intervening years between that boy and Ben, no one had been more than a pit stop in her life.

  Except for Bruce. He’d lit a fire in her belly and stoked it with his embrace, letting it burn for a single night in the library basement. Leah smiled as she remembered the flames licking her body with each caress. No tattoo would ever capture that.

  “What’s so amusing?”

  The man’s voice jolted Leah out of the past and into her snarky present. She set her drink on the bar and turned toward the stranger with a get-lost comeback, but one look at him and she stilled. He looked like home. A weathered cowboy aged to handsome perfection. She hadn’t seen a man like him in years—one who’d spent his life riding horses in the hot summer sun, throwing hay bales and really living.

  She could see the faded glory—his tanned skin and sandy hair, his deep brown eyes flecked with green. Take off fifteen years and she’d follow him anywhere. His hair had grayed at the temples, and the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth dulled the attraction. Thank god he’s not younger. I should behave myself tonight.

  “Just thinking about the past,” she finally replied.

  “Well, you must have had a good time, to light up your face with just a faded memory.”

  “I didn’t say it was faded.”

  He cocked his head, drink midway to his mouth. “No, no you didn’t. Jacob. Pleased to meet you.”

  He offered her his hand and she took it, letting the calluses on his skin scuff her palm and the strength in his grip crush her fingers. Wow. Nice to meet you too. “Leah. So what brings a cowboy to a convention hotel?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You obviously ride. As a hobby or do you train too?”

  “Oh, now I just ride.”

  Leah bit back a laugh as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion at her questions. I love it when I catch a man off guard. “Before now?”

  “Well…many years before now, when I was your age, I tried to be a rodeo star.”

  “Seriously? On the professional circuit?” Leah leaned back, taking in his dress shirt and slacks, his polished veneer.

  Jacob laughed. “If you can believe it, yes. My father worked as a ranch hand for a stock company, handling the horses the company supplied to the circuit. I lived on the ranch, up every morning with the Colorado sun, helping where I could. I thought I was meant to ride. Meant to be a modern-day cowboy.”

  “But?”

  “I took a nasty fall and damaged my back. It ended my career. I can still climb into the saddle, and do often, but the rodeo dream hit the dirt many years ago and never got up.” Jacob took a sip of his drink and studied at her. “How’d you know I ride?”

  “I learned to ride a horse before I learned to walk. And I’ve been around my fair share of cowboys. You have that look seasoned riders get—that windblown, sun-drenched skin. And your hands—their strength and texture—it all fits.”

  “Seasoned? I suppose I should take that as a compliment. At least you didn’t say old.”

  “No, I didn’t.” She hid a grin with the rim of her glass.

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a horse person. You don’t really seem the type.”

  “I’m not. Not anymore at least. When I left home, I left that life behind. Became a city girl, fell into a different scene, a different lifestyle. It suits me better.”

  Jacob’s gaze trailed from Leah’s inky-black hair to her eyes, heavy with liner, then to her ripped denim shorts and cut-up t-shirt. “I can tell. Isn’t it a bit cold for shorts and flip-flops?”

  “Not if you stay inside.” Leah she tipped the glass back, letting the last of the vodka trail down her throat. As she set the glass on the bar, she closed her eyes. Just get off the stool and go upstairs, Leah. Behave yourself. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and followed her own advice, hopping off the stool before crouching to pick up her bag.

  “Leaving so early?”

  “Yeah, I have an early morning. And my wallet and the hotel bar aren’t exactly friends. If I stay here any longer I’ll need to wash dishes in the back to pay the tab.” Although I’d love to sit here with you all night long. Leah smiled to mask her sudden sadness and straightened to leave. “It was nice to meet you, Jacob.”

  As she turned to leave, Jacob’s fingers wrapped around her arm. She thought of his hands wrapped around a bridle, holding the braided leather tight between his fingers, and she turned back to face him. His eyes burned with intensity—with the focus and determination of a man used to winning. His fingers tightened, their warmth flushing her skin and making her smile despite herself. I could get used to that.

  “How about I buy? Will you stay then?” he offered.

  Leah raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting from his face to his hand holding her still. She smirked as she met his stare. “Remove your hand from my arm and I’ll think ab
out it.”

  Jacob’s grip released in a heartbeat, the rush of cold air on Leah’s skin sending a shiver through her body. Jacob leaned back on the stool, watching her as he motioned the bartender for another round.

  The bartender filled a glass—vodka, tonic, and wedge of lime bubbling together in a siren’s fizz and pop—and Leah swallowed. I should go to my room, look over my notes, prep for tomorrow. Or I could drink for free with a handsome man and forget all about the math symposium. Why am I hesitating?

  Leah hopped back onto the stool, her purse sliding to the floor in a thump beneath her dangling feet. “I suppose if you’re buying, I can stay all night. I’ll warn you though, you probably can’t keep up.”

  “You really have been away from riding for a while. Nothing goes better with horses than liquor.”

  “Doesn’t liquor go with everything?”

  Jacob’s drink arrived and he raised it in a toast. “To alcohol, and everything it accompanies.”

  The glasses clinked together, a glass-on-glass chime opening a door to more than a boring night alone in her hotel room. Leah sipped her drink, letting the alcohol bubble and fizz down her throat to coat her inhibitions in a delicious haze.

  “So, are you just in town for the weekend?”

  “What? Don’t I look like a local?”

  “Forgive me, but no. I’ve never associated Orlando with punk rock. And this hotel doesn’t strike me as a place you’d frequent by choice.”

  Leah laughed and looked around. The bar sat in the middle of the room—polished ebony surrounded by clusters of red velvet couches, crocodile print chairs, and gilded coffee tables. Leah’s thighs rested on faux-ostrich leather and her back on zebra-print horsehair.

  “Yeah, you’re right there. I’m waiting for all the animals missing their hides to come tearing in here, demanding retribution. But, Orlando does have a bit of a scene, you just need to know where to look.” She tipped up her glass, the liquid courage wetting her tongue and coating her throat. “I am just visiting though. Not the wonderland bursting with glitter and princesses and magical castles down the street. I’m attending a conference.”

  Jacob raised an eyebrow. “The mathematics symposium here at the hotel?”

  “Mmm-hmm. I’m on the ‘Women in Mathematics’ panel.” Leah watched as Jacob’s back stiffened and he set his drink on the bar.

  “So you’re…a…student?”

  “All-but-dissertation in pure mathematics. I have about a year left. Then it’s on to a desk job, managing other people’s money.” Leah watched Jacob as she spoke, watched as his muscles clenched and unclenched, his jaw worked, and he swirled his scotch. “Is there something wrong?”

  Jacob turned to her, letting his face relax and his body calm, “No, no. Just surprised that’s all.”

  Leah’s eyebrow arched. “Let me guess. You didn’t anticipate I’d actually have brains. Right?”

  “No. That was immediately apparent. But it’s exceedingly unprofessional of me to flirt with a fellow conference presenter.”

  “Really? Maybe that’s why I’m not invited to more of these.” Leah smiled as Jacob choked on his scotch. “So, fellow presenter, what’s your topic?”

  After a chest-thumping cough, Jacob replied, “I’m presenting my research on the correlation between dyslexia and high computational ability in mathematics.”

  “So…that makes you what? A research scientist?”

  “Geneticist, actually.”

  Leah let out a breath. “Well, then you seriously need to get over yourself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, I thought from your reaction you must be in my field. A professor or dean or future employer. But you aren’t.”

  “So?”

  “So, you can keep buying me drinks, we can keep flirting, and both have a damn good night without regret.” Leah motioned the bartender for another round as Jacob slammed the rest of his scotch in one gulp. “Something I said?”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever met a woman as brash as you who’s so hot. Usually it’s not a package deal.”

  Leah laughed. “Thanks. I’ve always been a bit of an outlier.”

  They looked at each other, and the attraction built between them. Leah breathed it in, swirled the taste in her mouth like the orange spice of single-malt scotch. Jacob was nothing like her vodka tonics, the youthful bubbles and lime were juvenile in comparison. Maybe I need a change—a taste of something, or someone, aged to perfection. She looked him up and down—taking in his athletic frame, his tousled blond hair—all she could see—until she met his gaze and realized she’d been ogling.

  Clearing her throat, Leah broke the silence. “So how’d you get from cowboy to geneticist? That’s a pretty big change.”

  Jacob laughed. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. After I got hurt, I worked for a while as a trainer at competitions. I’d watch the broncs bust from the chute, watch the cowboys hold on for that eight-second ride, and it tore me apart. All I’d ever wanted was right there in front of me and I couldn’t have it.” Jacob took a drink and continued, “So I applied to college, got in, found out scientific research could fill the void. It’s not physically demanding, but the thrill of discovering new connections, of identifying the genetic markers for disabilities before they even manifest, is a satisfying substitute.”

  I wonder if he’s still got the stamina. “Do you miss the physical aspect of the rodeo? The adrenaline, the danger?”

  Jacob’s mouth tilted in a half-smile as he took a drink. “I can satisfy that need in other ways.”

  “Any involving women you’ve met at a hotel bar?”

  “Definitely. How about we discuss them over dinner? You can meet my research partner.”

  Leah’s body caught in mid-movement, startled to stillness. “I’m sorry?”

  “My research partner. We’re presenting together. But don’t worry, he’s just as much of an adrenaline junkie as I am.”

  Leah furrowed her brows and looked at Jacob. What the hell is going on?

  She watched Jacob pull out his wallet and pay for the drinks as she sat in stunned silence. Before she could think, or come up with a coherent sentence, Jacob slipped off the stool and shoved his wallet back into his pocket.

  “So, about dinner. Still interested in having a damn good night?”

  “Sure?”

  “Is that a question?”

  Leah shook her head and slipped off the barstool. Get hold of yourself, it’s just dinner. “No. No, it’s not. Count me in.”

  Jacob laughed. “Excellent. How about we meet in the hotel restaurant at eight? Would that suit you?”

  “Yes, it would.” Leah held out her hand and Jacob took it, his fingers wrapping around hers as the calluses on his palm scraped her skin. A surge of desire, hot and strong, coursed through her from their touch and Leah smiled. “Thanks for the drinks.”

  “You’re welcome. So we’ll see you at eight?”

  Leah nodded and Jacob pulled his hand away. With a final smile, he turned, walked out of the bar, and into a waiting elevator.

  Chapter Two

  Leah stepped into the shower, letting the hotel’s water cascade over her body—a hot torrent flushing her skin and fogging the air. She closed her eyes and thought of Jacob. His hands—so rough, warm, and…well-travelled—roving over her naked skin, the calluses scraping her flesh as he explored her body.

  She thought of his hand clutching a braided rein and his thighs gripping a bronc as it bucked, kicked and jerked in the middle of a rodeo ring. She wanted to be that bronc, wanted him to possess her as she thrashed all over a fluffy white hotel room bed. His age meant nothing. How little she knew him? Even less. His charm and confidence spoke to her, both so different from Ben and all his hesitation, all his self-doubt. Jacob could jump on and ride me until the bell rang and we were both broken.

  As Leah toweled off, she thought of the last-minute inclusion of his business partner. Can he possibly mean what I think he does?
As she rummaged through her suitcase looking for something to wear, butterflies competed with hunger in her stomach. I have to have something in here.

  She pulled out a black, knee-length dress, shook it out, and slipped it on, added a long silver necklace that hit her bellybutton, and a few bracelets and rings. Then she tousled her hair and added a bit of makeup. With a deep breath, she took stock in the mirror. The charcoal shadow deepened her dark brown eyes, and her pale lips melted into her face. She looked a bit punk, a bit undone. She closed her eyes and gave herself a mini pep talk. It’s just dinner. I can walk away before dessert, or go for it. Whatever I want. I own this.

  With her shit-kicking attitude revved up and ready, she stomped out of the bathroom, shoved her feet into her flip-flops, and headed for the door. As she approached the restaurant, she looked around, hoping to scope out Jacob and this mystery partner before they saw her. It didn’t take long.

  They sat in a corner booth, lost in conversation and oblivious to her stare. Hot damn. His partner looked about Jacob’s age, with shorter hair and pale skin. No years of summer sun for him. Mmm. Those cheekbones, that nose. Model material. She stared, transfixed, her gaze devouring every inch until he looked up and smiled. At her. Before she could tear her gaze free, Jacob turned toward her to catch her gawking at his partner like a schoolgirl. Leah blushed crimson, spinning on her heels to hide her face and run a hand through her hair.

  As she turned back to face them, they stood in front of her. “Leah, I’m glad you came. I’d like you to meet Duncan.”

  “Leah, it’s a pleasure.” He reached for her hand and a fevered wave rushed from her head to her toes as they touched. His skin was smooth, polished, nothing like Jacob’s. But his grip was just as strong, his skin just as hot.

  She smiled and looked at both of them. “Gentlemen, hello.”

  As she slid her hand out of Duncan’s, his fingers wrapped around hers, caressing, stroking her for the briefest second. She looked at him, her lip twitching in a question as Duncan motioned to the corner table. Taking a deep breath, she slid past him to lead the way, sliding into the booth and scooting around the wrap-around bench seat until she sat in the middle. She crossed her legs and rested her hands in her lap, fingers dancing over each other in anticipation. “So…you two are business associates?”

 

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