New York Nights: 4 Book Erotic Romance Series Box Set

by Sienna Hart

  “How was your night?”

  I jumped a little, forgetting I wasn’t alone.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t asleep.”

  I closed my laptop and shut my light off and walked to the bathroom.

  “Elise?” I stopped and took a breath before turning toward her. “You don’t have to keep avoiding me anymore, and you don’t have to keep making excuses why you have been. I know why.”

  I just stood there and let her talk.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you into anything you didn’t want to do, and I’m sorry for that. I won’t bother you about it anymore.”

  I walked to her bed and sat on the edge. I felt like a complete bitch for putting her and her feelings off just because I didn’t know how to act.

  “Megan, I’m sorry too. I should have been more mature about how it all . . . I just . . . I’ve never . . .”

  “I know. I get it. I’m okay now. Still friends?”

  “Always.”

  I gave her a big hug, and was so relieved that it was over. The tension between us was almost unbearable.

  “So, how was tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Just because you were avoiding me, doesn’t mean I was avoiding you. Isabel and Lillian kept me up to speed. His name is Donovan, right?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled and put my head down. “He took me to this tapas bar, and the food was amazing. The wine was so good but very, very strong. They have this tapas bread with the Spanish cuisine that was just so amazing. I met some of his friends, and he was actually quite the gentleman. Nothing like the sex addict I pictured him to be.”

  “Oh, is that why you have such a crush on him?” Megan laughed.

  “No.” I smiled. “Well, at first the whole bad boy rocker image was very attractive, but I think he was dating one of the models. I didn’t like the way he shoved her aside, but later he told me he has tried every approach to break things off with her, and she just never got the hint. I felt sorry for her. I think she is toward the end of her modeling career, and she’s just trying to keep what she had.”

  “How old is she?”

  “I dunno, I mean she’s this . . . gorgeous . . . Brazilian woman who intimidated the hell out of me but apparently she isn’t as amazing as first impressions give. But with Donovan, there’s something about him, something soft, sincere. I dunno, I can’t quite figure it out yet. I can see why Natasha wanted to be with him so badly.”

  “When are you going to see him again?”

  “Friday. They want to do another shoot to get some new pictures for the inside spread they want to do in the magazine.”

  “You’re really taking off, Elise.”

  “It’s exciting.”

  “Have you seen the internet lately?” Megan grabbed her laptop from under her bed and got online. She punched several buttons and turned it so I could see. My picture and profile came up several times.

  “Oh my . . . I’m . . . everywhere.”

  “Yes you are. Listen to this. ‘Elise Shay is the hottest alternative model making the rounds, and she could be the next Dita Von Teese. Seductive, elegant, eclectic and sensual, this curvaceous bombshell has what it takes to capture the hearts of big names like rocker Donovan Jones, Michael Chang, and even James Masters.’”

  “James Masters?” I ran to my bag and pulled out my schedule book. Flipping the pages quickly, I checked my luncheon on Thursday. “Oh man.”

  “What is it?”

  “Google his name.”

  Megan’s fingers flew across the keyboard. She read in silence until I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed her laptop and turned it around. My eyes flew through the Wikipedia article.

  “What does it say?”

  “He’s one of the most influential men in the modeling industry. In the top twenty on Forbes and . . . worth over 3.5 billion dollars.”

  “So, who is he?”

  “My lunch date on Thursday.” I looked at her with wide eyes.

  Chapter 5

  My cell rang as I was finishing my breakfast with Megan. Our late night talk last night helped us get even closer as friends. I looked forward to hanging out with her again.

  “Hello.”

  “Miss Shay?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Selena Rowan. I work for Mr. Masters at Masters Enterprises.”

  “Oh . . . yes.”

  “I wanted to confirm your luncheon with him tomorrow at 1 PM.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Very good. Also, he will be going over some contract information and legal documents as well so it might run quite long. He will introduce you to your assistant and go over your itinerary for next week.”

  “Um, excuse me but, he plans on doing all of this before he even meets me?”

  “Mr. Masters doesn’t waste time. He knows what he wants before making that first step and he prepares for it.”

  “Geez, I don’t even know what it’s about, and he’s already got me all signed up?”

  “Miss?”

  “Nothing. I’ll be there, but what if I choose not to . . . sign.”

  “You will. We will see you tomorrow at one.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “You ok?” asked Megan.

  “Just really nervous all of a sudden. This is really getting big for me.”

  “Well, look at you. Jesus, you’re gorgeous. Just remember there are always haters just as much as there are those who love you. The more famous you get, the more some people want to see you fail.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I’ve been doing some research online, and there are a couple of websites that sort of use parodies against you.”

  “Parodies? People are making fun of me?” I was horrified. “Show me.”

  Megan went to her laptop and within moments came to a website called ReadThat. She searched my name and some pictures came up. I cringed when I saw the way they’d distorted my pictures and the horrid comments people left.

  “How can people be so mean?” I googled ReadThat’s links, and another site came up. “What is HeadCase?”

  “Let’s see.” Megan searched my name again, and horrible naked pictures came up with my face on their bodies. These morbidly obese women were splayed all over the screen. I closed the computer and turned away.

  “Elise, you can’t let that stuff get to you. Whenever you make headlines, whether it’s good or bad, its just publicity. Just remember, the higher you hold your head even with the bad stuff, the more credible you look and the better they see you. These people are just trying to gain some cheap fame and fortune. This week it’s you, next week it will be someone completely different.”

  “I can’t let them do this to me.”

  “Elise, think of someone famous and google them in either of those two sites. I guarantee something terrible will pop up. Google Madonna, or Beyonce. Here.” She turned the computer and typed in Lady Diana. When the site changed, she turned it back toward me. I saw the Prince of Wales’ wife on the cover of Playboy magazine, wearing nothing on her top but a pair of tacky suspenders that barely covered her nipples. “Do you think she actually did this? And do you think she would have let something this disgusting get her down?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then, use shit like this for your own benefit and don’t let it get to you. You’re so much better than that.”

  I smiled and hugged her.

  “Thank you, Megan.”

  “You got it, sweetie.”

  I was still feeling very uneasy about this, and needed some support from someone in the business. After Megan left for work, I decided to call Mr. Chang. He was a hardass, but he knew what the hell he was talking about.

  “I’m in the area. Let me pick up some lunch, and I’ll meet you at your place.”

  “Yes sir. Thank you.”

  I was actually surprised he was making time for me. I knew how busy he was a
nd how structured he kept his schedule. I heard a knock on the door about an hour later.

  “Mr. Chang. Thank you for coming. Please come in.”

  “Only if you call me Michael.”

  “Michael.” I smiled. He held up one bag with Chinese food and another with a bottle of wine. If I didn’t know better, I’d have though he was someone else and not the hard core photographer behind the camera.

  He set down the food and took the wine out of the bag.

  “I hope this is to your liking.”

  “Chateau de . . . yakim . . .” I looked at him, confused, and he laughed.

  “It’s Chateau d’ Yquem Sauternes.”

  “Oh! Yes of course.” I smiled

  “It’s French. A sweet, golden nectar, very rare but very good.”

  “Very expensive?”

  “It’s a little pricy, but you cannot put a price on a quality vintage wine.”

  “Ok then. Let’s pop that baby open.”

  We vegged out on the carpet, ate good food, drank sweet wine and talked about everything from fame to how he got started in the business. After a while I had a good understanding as to why people felt it was okay to be so mean online.

  “I knew you would understand how it all worked. There is still a lot for you to learn, but I really think you have what it takes to go all the way, Elise. That’s why I snatched you up so quickly a few months ago.”

  He leaned over toward me and traced his fingers down my cheek, following my cheek, underneath my chin, and slid it down my neck to my neckline. My stomach fluttered and my face felt warm. He leaned in further and kept getting closer to my lips until his were touching mine. He never closed his eyes; they stayed fixed on mine. He slid over to me and he deepened his kiss, his eyes closed. He breathed in deeply and encased my neck in his hands. He pulled me into him in every possible way a man could pull a woman in.

  His touch captured my attention, and I couldn’t help but melt at the way he moved.

  “Elise.” His kiss got deeper and his breathing got harder. “Hmmmmm, Elise.”

  I could barely speak. It all felt odd and out of place for me, but my body responded so effortlessly to him. His fingers cascaded down my sides and lifted my shirt up and off my body. His lips drove to my naked neck and his hands worked their way down to my bra. His mouth followed. His hands moved to my back and unlatched my bra allowing it to fall freely to the floor. His hands immediately cupped my breasts and the warmth of his skin fueled me. He gently pushed and crawled toward me until I was lying on the floor. He hovered over me, his eyes taking me in one inch at a time.

  “I want to photograph every piece of you.”

  His words made me shiver.

  His mouth covered one of my nipples as his hands inched my pants down off my hips. I knew what was happening and I had lost the power to stop it, or to tell him not to stop. I was completely at his mercy. His hands slid up my thigh and in between my legs. Before I knew it, his fingers were deep inside me, moving in and out so slowly it ached deep inside me. He got up on his knees and unbuckled his pants. His stare never left me as he shed his clothes. He prowled toward me like a cat and pinned me to the floor. His body was exquisite as he crushed me with his weight. His knees forced my legs open, and so very slowly, he pushed himself inside me, inch by inch. His hands grabbed my hair and he looked directly into my eyes from inches away. He pulled himself out and thrust himself in again. Each time he repeated it got harder, faster and hotter. He fucked me fast until I was about to lose my mind and then he would slow down so much I begged him to continue. He was torturing me with his agonizingly incredible love making. I wanted to be his whore, his playtoy, his muse. I would have done anything he wanted me to at that point.

  He knew I was close to an orgasm, and he pulled almost completely out. He pulled his upper body up as far as he could without moving his pelvis and watched my face. Just when I thought he would stop completely, he grabbed my hips and thrust so deep inside me that I climaxed—hard and loud, the waves exploding deep within me and taking over every inch of my being. He kept fucking me, until he leaned back and let out a guttural yell, driving himself into me hard and fast.

  He collapsed on top of me, breathing hard and fast. His body was slick with perspiration. He smelled so primal, so good. I would never forget that smell.

  Chapter 6

  I woke up the next morning in my bed. Michael must have picked me up after I fell asleep on the floor in his arms. I smiled at the thought. Rolling over, I listened for the shower, but heard nothing. I sat up and looked around, but the only other person I saw was Megan, asleep in her bed. The floor was neatly cleaned up from our little picnic and there was no evidence of Michael even being here.

  I wanted to call out to him, but I didn’t want to wake her. I got up, wrapped my sheet around me, and went into the bathroom. He wasn’t even here. I went back into the room and looked for a note. There was nothing. I picked up my cell. Nothing.

  I was a little miffed.

  “He didn’t even leave a note?” The longer I thought about it, the madder I got. Without thinking, I found his number in my contacts and texted him.

  “Thanks for last night, but if you don’t have the balls to stick around, then don’t bother calling me again. I’m not a fucking booty call.”

  Before I sent It, I hesitated. Was this what they meant when they said you had to sleep your way to the top? No. I was already well on my way to the top, and I didn’t have to sleep with anyone to get there.

  “Fuck him. I don’t need him.” I hit send.

  My clock said it wasn’t even seven AM yet, so I went back to bed, only to toss and turn. The more I thought about it, the madder I got. I got up and took a hot shower.

  “Did you have company last night?” Megan came into the bathroom and sat on the toilet.

  “Yes. Did I leave something out from our dinner?”

  “No. There was a partial bottle of wine in the fridge with a note attached to it.”

  My heart sank.

  “A . . . note? Shhhiiittt.”

  “You didn’t see it I take it?”

  “I didn’t . . . and I just sent him a text telling him just what I thought of him too.” I banged my head repeatedly on the shower wall. “He must think I’m a complete jackass.”

  “Guys are resilient. I wouldn’t worry too much. Give it time. If he doesn’t respond to it soon, he’ll forget about it by the end of the week. Who was it, anyway?”

  “What did the note say?”

  “Looking forward to more of you. Mike.”

  “God, oh God, oh God.” I banged my head off the wall again. Moving the curtain, I looked at her. “It was Michael Chang.”

  Megan gasped, and her eyes got wide.

  “I . . . wouldn’t wait.”

  “Ugh . . .”

  * * *

  I had to get Michael out of my head. My meeting with Mr. Masters was coming up, and I didn’t want to jeopardize anything. I ate lightly, put on my best suit, and spent most of the morning getting ready. A few shots to soften the knots in my stomach would help too.

  By one o’clock, I was in front of The Carlyle. I smoothed out my pant suit and went in.

  “Good afternoon, miss. Do you have a reservation?”

  “I’m here to see Mr. Masters?”

  The maitre d’ looked in her book and smiled at me.

  “This way please.”

  I followed her to a corner table somewhat out of the way from the others in the restaurant. A very well-dressed man stood up as his eyes met mine.

  “Miss Shay I presume.” He held out his hand and I shook it with a firm grip.

  “Hello.” I smiled. “Yes, it’s very nice to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is purely mine. Please sit. I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine and some hors d'oeuvres.”

  A waitress came over and poured some wine into my glass and I took a sip. It tasted just like the wine from last night. I looked at the color and smelle
d it.

  “Chateau d’ Yquem Sauternes.”

  “Must be quite popular.”

  “Actually, no, it was recommended by a colleague of mine. He will be here very soon. Please meet Selena Rowan. I believe you spoke briefly on the phone yesterday.”

  “Yes. Hello.” I shook her hand.

  “She will be your assistant, to help you through your success, your emails, blogs and anything to do with scheduling and internet work.” Mr. Masters stood. “Ah, here is my colleague now.”

  I turned around and almost dropped my glass of wine. Michael Chang walked in, wearing a killer suit. He approached our table and shook his hand. “Michael, it’s great to see you again.”

  “Of course. Same here. It will be nice to work with you again.” He turned to me, and I had to put my wine down. “Elise, it is so good to see you again.” He took my hand and kissed it. Nowhere in his face could I see any sort of anger or disappointment over the text I’d sent him. Maybe he didn’t get it. “I see you got my recommendation for the wine. I hope it is to your liking.”

  “Yes. Um . . . thank you.” He never got it. I sighed a deep sigh of relief.

  Michael sat down nodded at Selena and picked up his wine. “Hello, Selena, it’s nice to see you again. You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you. You too.” she smiled.

  “Oh, before we get started, Miss Shay . . .” I looked up at him, still smiling. “I will need to get with you afterwards to discuss a note received earlier in the day.”

  My smile faded. My face grew hot, and although I wanted to be angry over the fact he’d mentioned it in front of everyone, I couldn’t. He said it in a way that it sounded like a business memo. But in his own way, he was letting me know that he did, indeed, get my text.

  “Okay. Should we get started?” Mr. Masters asked.

  I took another good swallow of wine and redirected my attention to Mr. Masters the best I could.

  “Elise, it’s no secret that you’re the next Bettie Page. You have what it takes, and I want to manage you so that you get the best, and the right, kind of exposure. There are a lot of wanna-be managers and producers out there who would love to fuck you over. This kind of exposure will put you in the wrong media, the wrong websites. It will kill your career quickly, and, well, it would be a shame to waste a unique find like yourself on . . . mediocrity.”