Scent of Persuasion: Sensory Ops, Book 2

by Nikki Duncan

  “I have a better one.” She pushed him into the chair and knelt between his legs.

  “Oh hell.”

  “If this is Hell, I’m clearly in the wrong profession.” She swept her gaze up his body, ran her hands up his thighs and brushed his balls with her thumbs.

  His thigh muscles rippled beneath her touch. His abs dipped slightly in all the right places, forming a chiseled perfection that continued up his chest to bulging pecs, over broad shoulders and down his seriously impressive arms. He wasn’t bodybuilder huge, but his strength was evident—as was his arousal lying thick and long against his lower stomach.

  “You hid a lot beneath that suit.” She traced the ridges of his dick with her fingertip. Her gut quivered. Her sex clenched. “I definitely need a new career if I can’t do you right.”

  Not that this was a career, but he certainly made the assignment easier. Her heart stalled. It was an assignment.

  “Don’t stop now.” He dug his fingers into the arms of the chair. “You’re doing fine.”

  At what? She gave herself a mental shake and smiled. Enjoying herself was fine. Getting emotional was not fine, and damn if he wasn’t endangering her emotions.

  So far he’d done what no man ever had. He’d allowed her complete freedom with his body. He’d shown her the depth of trust she never realized it took to grant someone such power.

  Empowered by his reactions, she leaned forward. Teasing him with the tip of her tongue, she blew a warm breath over the moist head of his erection before retreating.

  “And here I’ve been hoping for better than fine.” She pushed against his thighs and stood.

  “No—”

  “Too late. If it’s only fine, I’m going to have to turn up the heat.” Shedding the last of her proper upbringing as easily as she’d dropped her dress, she walked toward the bathroom that adjoined his office. His gaze burned into her skin, heated her blood.

  She rarely walked from her bathroom to her closet in the nude at home, she’d never worn thongs and prostitution had never registered as a blip on her radar. Yet parading in front of Breck in nothing more than a thong and heels didn’t bother her. It was…wanton. Freeing.

  Kami rounded the corner into the bathroom and flipped on the light. She gasped at the sight of herself in the mirrors. With flushed skin and stiff nipples, she didn’t look like a woman getting paid for impersonal sex.

  She looked like a woman eager to be taken by a lover.

  It was wrong—detrimental to her goals—to get emotional over Breck. He was funny and sexy. His compassion and dedication to charity made him more attractive than his looks. The way he’d been with Kieralyn, Jane Ann and Leon revealed a deep well of emotion and loyalty. She’d noticed him as he’d walked the room with Jane Ann. He’d studied the crowd without seeming to lose the thread of conversation, but it had been obvious that he respected the Masters. Their relationships were as close as what she’d only had with Channing.

  If Breck had any other kind of job, anything not involving the social circles she’d run from, she could see herself falling for him. It didn’t even bother her that he paid for sex. She’d long ago accepted that, as long as they hurt no one else, people were entitled to live life as it suited them. It was a lesson she’d learned with Channing when they were teenagers. To feel differently now would be contradictory.

  Potential yearnings didn’t matter, though. She was here for a purpose and he was taboo. Breathing deep, she found a condom in a drawer and grabbed a bottle of lotion from the counter before heading back to her lover for the night.

  Turn up the heat? How in the hell did she intend to do that?

  Sweat pooled at the base of Breck’s spine as he watched Kami turn and walk toward the bathroom. Her perfectly toned and rounded ass bounced lightly with each step. The muscles of her legs, enhanced by the stilettos, flexed and shifted. Damn, but he loved what those heels did to her legs.

  He’d almost missed her nerves when they’d stepped off the private elevator, but she’d fidgeted her hands at her sides, and her back had been stiff as she’d walked around the suite. Once he’d turned on the music though, she’d settled as if she needed the stage to be set for her role.

  The music had gotten to him too. He’d relaxed and begun enjoying himself. Kieralyn had been right about him earlier. He hadn’t relaxed, really relaxed, in longer than he could remember. A couple of dances with Kami and the stress and pressure he dealt with every day melted away.

  The reality of how much control she wielded over him was disturbing. More disturbing, though, was the realization that he’d handed it over freely. No one had ever gotten him to do that.

  It was just one more thing about her that didn’t fit.

  Why had she become a call girl? She was into the sex. That was obvious from her pounding pulse, heated skin and moist panties. She wasn’t, however, built for a life of stripping for and pleasuring different men each night. He ground his teeth.

  Jane Ann had accused him of acting like Richard Gere. Maybe he was. It wasn’t wrong to want to help her escape the life she was living. It was a damned uncomfortable sensation. He shouldn’t care what she did.

  The bathroom light flooded into the apartment. Kami gasped, compelling him to go after her, which he would if she didn’t return on her own in a moment.

  The light went out, and she stepped back into the room.

  Shoulders back and head high, with her slim fingers wrapped around a bottle of lotion, she moved toward him. The seductive sway of her hips, the slight forward thrust of her pelvis…

  Soon she would be thrusting against him. Her fingers had incited a smoldering fire in him with a few touches. If she used that oil the way he suspected she planned… Her hand, slick and wrapped around him, gliding up and down…

  Breck gritted his teeth and pressed deeper into the chair to keep from squirming as she closed the distance. “Kami?”

  She nearly stumbled. A chink in her armor? She wasn’t as sure of herself as she wanted him to believe.

  “Relax. You’ve had a…” she breathed deep and caressed him with her warm gaze, lingering on his cock, “…hard day.”

  She cast her head to the left, her hair sweeping along her shoulders and brushing her cheeks.

  His gut constricted. “Pun intended?”

  “Well…” She smiled as she stepped between his legs. Bending at the waist, she ran a nail along the length of him. “You are undeniably hard.”

  She straightened and popped the top of the lotion open. A squirt flew out and landed on his chest. The cool liquid shocked him. He jerked lightly. “It’s difficult not to be, given the sight of you before me.”

  “Mmm. You’re pretty nice to look at too.” She rolled her pelvis and sighed as her legs rubbed together. “Better though…” she tipped the bottle and drizzled the thin lotion over his chest, down his stomach and around his dick, “…to touch.”

  “Kami, were you sent here to kill me?”

  “Only to pleasure.” She knelt between his knees, flattened her hands on his chest and began spreading the lotion around and into his skin.

  It smelled of coconuts and warmed beneath her touch. The sides of her perky breasts brushed his thighs. They would fit perfectly in his palms. Currently though, they cocooned his balls and swayed with the motion of her massaging hands.

  Unable to resist touching her any longer, he framed her neck and slid his hands into her hair. “You’re soft. Nothing like other women I’ve known.”

  She smeared the oil lower and sandwiched his dick between her palms before moving on to his legs. The more she avoided prolonged attention to his cock, the more he wanted it. Burned for it. Ached for it.

  His balls tightened with every stroke of her hands. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled.

  She was either an expert at hand jobs or she was shoring up the courage to actually handle him.

  “I’m sure you’ve known plenty.”

  Plenty? Women. What an ass he was to bring t
hat up during sex. Not that past women, his temporary role as CEO or his suspicions surrounding Trevor’s accident mattered.

  Only Kami’s hands on his body mattered.

  Hands that threatened his control.

  She revved his body to the redline. If she took him in hand he wouldn’t last. And damn but he wanted to be inside her when he came. He wanted her to wrap her lean legs around his waist and hold him tight while he sank deep into her enveloping warmth. Leaning forward, he grabbed Kami’s waist and pulled her onto his lap.

  “Hey. I wasn’t finished.”

  “You still aren’t, but if you keep touching me I’m gonna blow.”

  “And that’s a problem?” She wiggled her hips and moved so she was straddling him.

  “Yes.”

  “Because you don’t choose to relinquish control?”

  “Because I choose for us to finish together.”

  “Aww.” She batted her eyes at him and nudged his dick. “What a sweet sentiment.”

  “Sweet my ass.”

  She popped her pelvis forward and ground her wet thong against his erection. “So you want to hurry.”

  “I didn’t say that.” He gripped her hips to stop her movements. The chair swayed beneath them, negating his efforts.

  She braced her hands on either side of his head and pushed against the chair, increasing the back and forth motion. A second push and the back popped down until they reclined. Her breasts swayed in his face. He captured a nipple in his mouth and cupped her ass to pull her against him.

  He slipped his thumbs into the strings of her thong and sucked harder on her nipple. She cried out in surprise and pressed deeper into his mouth. Sharp plastic poked his thumb.

  He pulled a condom wrapper from the back of her underwear and grinned. “Believe in being prepared, do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I like a woman who thinks ahead.” He kissed her neck. “Tell me you thought to pack extra clothes.”

  “I have a bag in my car.”

  “Good.” He snapped the sides of her thong and pulled the scrap of satin away. “You’re going to need them to walk out of here in the morning with any dignity.”

  She sat up and plucked the condom from him. “I guess I should consider myself fortunate that you didn’t do that to my dress.”

  “The way you looked in it—your back naked and smooth as you turned for me, the feel of your skin beneath my hands…” He thumbed her pointed nipples. She gasped. “You’re very lucky.”

  Kami ripped open the plastic wrapper, scooted back so she sat on his knees and sheathed him with the condom. The tips of her fingers danced over his cock, teasing and tormenting. She pressed lightly against the vein bulging along the underside. He bit his tongue and closed his eyes for a moment, hoping to keep restraint in his grasp.

  “You’re about to be the lucky one.” She moved back up his body and raised herself over him.

  Oh hell.

  She reached behind her and grabbed his balls in a light grip. Pushing her hand toward the chair, she raised his dick, and in a lithe move, she took him inside.

  She arched back. He jerked off the chair, burying himself deeper inside her. The tight walls of her pussy pulsed and held him tight.

  She locked her eyes with his as she fisted her hands on her breasts and began riding him. He tried to hold the chair steady, but Kami’s rapid movements over him had the chair echoing her pace.

  The combination heightened the impact of her assault on his body.

  She kneaded her breasts and moaned low in her throat. He dug his fingers into her hips to steady her. To change her angle just a tad so she rubbed… Oh, that was it.

  She gasped when her clit slapped his body.

  Her inner muscles constricted with her building orgasm. Her pupils flared.

  His heart slammed into his chest and sweat coated him. He dug his feet into the carpet to keep from slipping off the recliner.

  She raised off him, almost to the point of withdrawal. His breath shuddered. She held herself aloft and took a deep breath. The music caught his attention, or rather the pause in the music.

  The strings hurried into a building crescendo.

  Kami dropped back down and raced with the music to the end. Each stroke of the bow against the violin strings, long and low, deliberate and driven, powerful and precise, was a stroke of her body against his.

  They rushed to the end. She arched back and grabbed chunks of her hair as she screamed her release.

  He dug his head into the cushiony chair and followed.

  Chapter Four

  She didn’t relish lying, but she’d done it.

  She didn’t relish stealing, but she was about to do it.

  She didn’t relish endangering Breck, but she would do it.

  The trick to overcoming every immoral thing her role as an escort had her doing rested in her ability to keep her eyes open, anticipate danger and find ways to avoid it.

  With her shoes in her hand and her torn thong in the trash, Kami stood by the bed and watched Breck sleep. He’d made the sex so pleasurable that after a while she’d believed they were simply two people interested in each other. She had entirely lost track of the reality surrounding the life she’d cast herself into. She’d slipped beneath the serenade of his attentions and her desires for the future had escaped suppression.

  Watching her father change wives as often as her mother bought new gowns, she had never understood the appeal of marriage beyond the wedding. In Jane Ann and Leon she’d seen an easy companionship that spoke of respect and love despite loss and pain and the heartache of having recently lost their son.

  One day she would like to find what they had. In her fantasies of the moment, she could pretend Breck would be that man.

  She hadn’t had to work at convincing herself after he’d lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bed. He’d taken his turn with the massage oil and she didn’t want to believe it had been her imagination that put admiration and respect in his eyes when he looked at her.

  Men didn’t respect women they paid for sex—regardless of the price, motivations or level of attraction—and no matter how she dressed it up she wondered if she could ever again argue that she was little better than an escort.

  If a man truly loves you, he won’t care who your family is, how much money you have or what you do. Channing had wrapped up his motivational, don’t-be-afraid-to-leave-your-family speech with that.

  Every time she’d been dumped by a man since, she’d reminded herself of the truth in his words. They would be no different when she finished her assignment, and if she proved her hunch regarding Channing’s death, she wouldn’t care what anyone thought of her.

  Her current role as call girl didn’t sit easily with her, but she’d exhausted every other option, including a desperate attempt to plead her case to her father. She had no choice but to continue down the path she’d chosen, and if Breck wound up in the crosshairs she’d find a way to help him.

  When. When he got caught in the crosshairs, because if he hadn’t been targeted for whatever was going on she wouldn’t have been asked to take his brush. Hopefully helping him would be reason enough for him to forgive any betrayals.

  Shaking off the sentiment that a happy ending with Breck was possible, she reminded herself no matter how great they’d been in bed he was not now, nor would he ever be the man for her.

  Time was up. Cinderella’s footmen were turning back into mice and they would turn on her if she didn’t follow Madame V’s orders to the letter.

  Rather than going through a second door that likely led into Breck’s office, she went through the bathroom she’d used earlier. With a last look into the apartment, she grabbed his hairbrush and went into his office to get the evening bag she’d left on a chair earlier.

  She turned to the door. The file folder he’d slipped papers into earlier captured her attention.

  Moving behind his desk, she lowered herself into his chair and reached for th
e file. Her fingers trembled. Using only her fingernail on the corner of the folder, she flipped open the flap.

  The stylized “EW” leapt off the page to slap at her. She flipped to the back page and saw two signature lines. Breck Lawson, CEO was blank. G. Charles Scott had already signed his line.

  Her mouth dried up as if she’d spent an hour in the dental chair with cotton stuffed in her gums.

  It had been an Eston White contract with G. Charles Scott that Channing had refused to sign. Or he had until the end. Now he was gone, the contract was signed, his partner Max had stepped in to keep the company afloat and Eston White was after Max for Channing’s missing data.

  Sitting in Breck’s plush office, Kami considered the chances that she would be assigned to escort and get the DNA of the CEO of a company with a pending contract on his desk. Not just any contract, though. One with a company Channing had needed to check out more thoroughly.

  What they would do with the DNA made no more sense than Channing’s sudden change of heart and death, but everything inside screeched a warning. These companies and contracts were connected.

  Madame V was connected.

  She was connected.

  Breck would need to be warned.

  Pulling a notepad and pen over, she bit her lip. It wasn’t wise. The best thing was to leave and never look back. Leave Breck. Leave Elegant Entertainment.

  He had been a one-night assignment. The next one might not turn out so well, and she needed to banish any thoughts that it could. She should keep him in the slot he belonged in and move on.

  Still, if he wasn’t in the habit of making questionable deals, he deserved a hint that something might be off with the unsigned contract on his desk.

  Wagging the pen in the air, she considered her words before scrawling a quick note. It was vague, but it was the best she could do without jeopardizing his safety or revealing her intentions to the wrong people. If he refused the contract, it needed to not come back on her.

  During the long drive back to the mansion, she replayed the events from the party. Between the mingling, the dancing, the Masters, Madame V demanding that she return with Breck’s hairbrush, Edwin’s pompous attitude that grated after a very short while and then Breck, it had been a full night.