He laughed at himself. He’d barely touched her. She came from his touch on her swollen clit. He brought his hand up and breathed in the scent of her that was left on him.
Another surge of blood rushed to his cock, hardening him until he thought he would burst. He’d been to Thailand, where he toured a perfume distillery. That was what her scent reminded him of, that mixture of erotic incense and spices.
He leaned back in his chair, and brought his free hand down to stroke himself. With each breath, he took more of her scent into his lungs, and his hand moved over his penis. He gripped it, pushing against the tight circle of his hand. Then he licked the tip of his finger, barely tasting her on his hand. That pushed him to another level of arousal. He teased himself with fantasies of her mouth on his cock, her creamy pussy clenching his length. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he brought both hands down to work his cock, bucking into his hands with a fever he couldn’t control. His balls tightened, and then he clenched his teeth, his body jerking with the intensity of his ejaculate, which spurted onto his chest and arms.
He continued fondling himself until he grew soft enough to walk. He stumbled into the shower, where he stood beneath the scalding water, only to have an image of her harden him again.
God, what was he doing? Yes, he wanted to meet this woman. He wanted to take her shoulders and shake sense into her. But once he met her, he wanted to be deep inside her. He thought that if he took her to bed, either he’d be able to claim that she was a liar, and not a virgin like she’d claimed, or he’d be the one to take her virginity.
He stuck his head under the spray of hot water, letting it pound into his scalp. Since when did he become her big brother? What the hell did he care what the woman did with her own body? Was he suddenly ordained as her guardian angel? It wasn’t like he had any problem with the oldest profession, if that’s what a woman wants to do, but it wasn’t something he’d like to see a woman he cared about getting into. Just because he wanted to be deep inside her didn’t mean she meant anything to him. No more than any other woman he’d slept with.
With a sigh, he realized he wanted more. He wanted Maureen Sullivan.
Now, he had two weeks. He had a good start. He already knew she wanted him, too.
Chapter Four
“Good morning.” His voice was as intimate as if he were lying beside her rather than across town on the telephone.
“Good morning, Nicholas.” She smiled, feeling like a teenager in the throes of her first crush.
“How did you sleep?”
“Ah, not well. I was…tense. How about you?”
“Same. Maybe worse. You aren’t upset with me?”
She could tell he wasn’t joking, so she answered seriously. “Certainly not. I had a great time last night.”
“Mm, you certainly did.”
She laughed naughtily.
“When can I see you again? Lunch today?”
“I don’t know.” She tried to imagine another scene like the lounge last night. No matter where she went, someone would recognize her, and eventually Nick Webster would find out who she was.
Why didn’t she just tell him? He didn’t seem to recognize her, or he would have said something. She struggled with it throughout the night, and could only come up with the rationalization that she didn’t want him to know she was going to prostitute herself. Even though it was legal. Even though he seemed to support Lottie’s girls, and didn’t look down on Lottie or her employees. She didn’t think of herself as a prostitute, and she didn’t want him to think of her that way either.
“I promise to keep my hands to myself, Maureen.”
“I’m not worried about that,” she said honestly, “but today isn’t good.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“Don’t you eat lunch on Sundays?”
She laughed, enjoying his easy personality. “I have a standing date with Lottie. We have brunch after church every Sunday.”
“Church?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
“Yes, it’s a place where one goes to pray. Usually on Sundays.” Was he surprised that she went to church, or that Lottie did?
“Well…all right then, dinner tonight?”
“You’re a persistent man, Nicholas Webster.”
“When I find something I want, I go after it until it’s mine.” His low voice dared her to doubt him. “Don’t you remember what I said last night?”
At that moment, Maureen felt a twinge of fear. She wasn’t afraid that he would physically hurt her, it was more the fear of an emotional tie that had been forged within the past few days. No, hours. The strength of that bond was terrifying.
“I remember.”
“Can I pick you up, or would you rather meet me somewhere?” Maureen took a deep breath. She’d come to a conclusion in the wee hours of this morning. She couldn’t let his sexy voice and sexier promises sway her from her decision. Truth be told, she didn’t trust herself to remain chaste when she was around him. Christ, he’d made her come on their first date.
“I won’t be able to do that either. I’m going to be pretty busy these next two weeks. I’m helping Aunt Lottie with her project.” There. She said it. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t exactly come out and tell the whole truth either. He didn’t speak for a long time. She almost checked her phone to see if the call was dropped.
“You’re telling me that you don’t want to see me until Lottie’s virgin gets laid?” He had to put it that way?
“Well, yes, I guess that sums it up.”
“That makes what I was going to tell you a bit easier on me then.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m going to be in Boston for the next two weeks. I was hoping to meet you today and tell you in person. I don’t want you to forget about me while I’m gone.”
Maureen smiled. How could she forget him? She released a long sigh. “You have my phone number. I give you permission to call me often to remind me.”
“I’ll take you up on that. That will give us fourteen days to get our dinner plans nailed down.”
* * * * *
Maureen checked her makeup and hair in the mirror one last time.
“You sure you want to do this, honey?” Lottie leaned against the doorjamb, holding a stack of papers which Maureen assumed was her speech.
“If I talk to them, maybe they’ll leave me alone.” Maureen wore her makeup just as she’d done in the photo shoot. It was a more dramatic look than she was used to, but she considered it a type of mask to hide behind.
Or maybe war paint.
“That’s not likely, Reenie. They aren’t going anywhere.”
Maureen only shrugged.
“Did I hear you on the phone earlier?” Lottie wandered over to Maureen’s dresser and picked up a bottle of perfume, sniffed it, then reached for another.
“You can come right out and ask, Aunt Lottie.” Maureen turned on her stool to face the other woman. “Yes, he called this morning. I told him I couldn’t see him for a couple of weeks.”
Lottie turned around with a sad smile. “I guess that makes sense. Two weeks isn’t that long. It will be over before you know it, and then you can hump sexy Nick until your eyes cross.” She laughed at Maureen’s shocked expression. “You never did tell me what happened last night. You came in way too early, if you ask me.”
“We went for drinks. That was it. I could have stayed there talking to him all night, he’s a very interesting person. He’s considerate, funny, sexy…everything…” Maureen’s eyes glazed over, and Lottie laughed lustily.
“But?”
“But, I started attracting attention, and I just wanted to get out of there.”
“And?”
Maureen laughed at Lottie’s hungry expression. “And…I couldn’t exactly go home with him, I have a commitment.”
“Did he ask?”
“About the commitment?”
“No, did he ask you to go home wi
th him?” Lottie brushed a strand of Maureen’s hair from her forehead with her thin finger.
“Yes. He was very…honest about what he wanted.”
Lottie giggled, then leaned down to drop a kiss on Maureen’s cheek. “He always did go after what he wanted.”
“How long have you known him?” Maureen turned back toward the mirror. Lottie picked up the brush and ran it through her hair in a maternal gesture.
“He helped me get into this building, so I suppose it’s been over five years.”
“Does he…uh, come here often?”
Lottie gave her an amused look in the mirror. “Would that bother you?”
Maureen answered the look similarly. “That isn’t an answer.”
Lottie smiled secretively, and didn’t speak for long moments. “When we moved from that old building into this one, I think he came once or twice. I got the impression that he was only doing it to give me a little business boost.”
“You? I mean, did you—”
“Oh lord no; I’d already decided I was done working on my back by that time. Not that I wouldn’t have given him a free ride, that man’s one sexy thing. The only sex I get now is mutual and free of charge.” She lay the brush aside and took Maureen’s shoulders. “I don’t even remember who he was with. We didn’t see him at all during his marriage, but he came in once after he lost his wife, I remember feeling like he—”
“Marriage? He lost his wife?” Maureen turned her stool again to face Lottie.
“Well, yes…he didn’t mention that?”
“No. No, he didn’t.”
“Don’t quote me, because I only heard it through other people. They say she died on the operating table, but the reasons vary from boob job to appendectomy. I don’t know for sure.” Maureen tried to imagine Nick as a husband, then a grieving widower. “He spent about two years abroad, drunk as a skunk. He told me that much himself.”
Maureen would have liked to have a few minutes to digest this new information, but her thoughts were interrupted by a discreet knock. “You gals ready?” Lawrence Green’s voice came through the door. “They’re starting to foam at the mouth.”
Lottie laughed. “Come on, let’s do this thing.”
* * * * *
Nick watched the press conference in his home office. So this is why she couldn’t meet him for lunch.
She answered the questions posed to her with confidence and conviction. She was smart. Anyone watching would be able to tell that she wasn’t just some bimbo trying to get attention. She was cool and calm. The only time she faltered was when someone shouted from the crowd, asking what was so wrong with her that she couldn’t find herself a man. Maureen glanced into the lens of the camera, for just a split second, before collecting herself once again, and answering with a laugh.
“Perhaps when this is all over, the winner will tell you if there is anything wrong with me, but I’d like to think that most men out there have more class than that.” The pointed look she gave the questioner was enough to draw titters from the crowd.
“Good girl.” Nick smiled. He glanced at his computer screen, where the Lottie’s Place page had been open for the past two weeks. Two hundred thousand dollars, and almost two weeks yet to go. Nick knew about these internet auctions. The price would steadily go up until the last few days, and then it would spike. He could only imagine the final amount.
A short rap on the door, and Carl peeked around the opening. “Your luggage is ready, is there anything you’d like to add?”
“Just my laptop. That’s a long ass flight.”
“Yes sir, it is. Would you like me to include something to eat in your carry on?”
“Please. Something light.” He refreshed the window. Two hundred and six thousand. Lottie’s brilliant ad campaign was working, thanks to the free publicity and scandal hungry press.
Carl closed the door quietly, leaving Nick to stare through the picture window.
What type of man was out there bidding on this night of passion in Reenie O’Hara’s arms? Probably a lot of rich foreign men, where taking a woman’s virginity is as close to godliness as a mortal can get. Probably a bunch of old men, who have nothing better to do with their old money. One good thing, no small time criminal would be able to afford it; the price alone is weeding out some of the scarier options.
That isn’t true. Bastards come in every size, shape and social class. Nick hoped there was a plan in place for her personal protection. Knowing Lottie, nothing would be overlooked. He’d just have to ask. There were other questions that couldn’t wait for his return.
“Carl!” He didn’t have to raise his voice; the man was never too far away. Sure enough, seconds later he was there, poking his bald head around the door
“Yes, sir?”
“See if you can get Lottie Davis here this afternoon.”
“Yes sir. Would you like me to clear the rest of your day?” Carl was the epitome of discreet service, and Nick only smiled at his implication.
“That won’t be necessary. Just a meeting.”
Damn this trip to Boston. It couldn’t come at a worse time.
Chapter Five
Lottie came through the front door with the smile of a cat that got the canary.
“What are you up to, Auntie?” Maureen laughed. “You look guilty as sin. And where have you been?”
She’d flopped into an overstuffed chair beside the window, though the drapes were closed against the beautiful sunset, due to the ever growing throng of reporters.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but your Aunt Lottie has more than one standing invitation to the finest places in the city.” She fanned herself comically, “I just came from the most beautiful home, with a Rolls Royce, tennis courts, a butler and everything.”
Maureen’s mouth dropped open. “Who is he?”
“None of your business. Just know that he’s so beautiful to look at, that my eyes hurt every time I spend any length of time with him.”
“I’m jealous.” Maureen giggled.
“What a funny thing for you to say!” Lottie laughed loudly, and even slapped her hands against her thighs, punctuating her outburst.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind, you’ll figure it out sooner or later. Come on, dinner’s ready.”
* * * * *
Maureen spent the following days hiding from the press, she didn’t leave Lottie’s Place, and she rarely even walked by a window. Her bids reached a quarter million, but she tried not to think about the money, it always overwhelmed her. She wanted to cap the auction. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars was enough. Any more and she’d start to feel guilty.
Guilty? Ha, that’s a good one Maureen, she scoffed. She wasn’t conning anyone. These men knew exactly what they were doing with their money. They mustn’t have much else to do with it other than waste it on meaningless sex.
But two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? Surely it wouldn’t get much higher than that.
The only thing keeping her grounded was the fact that Nick called her every night at seven.
He started each conversation with, “You remember me?”
And she’d answer with, “How could I forget a seventy year old gymnast?” or “Is this my favorite heavy breather?” or his favorite, “Are you the man that slid his hand down my pants in a dark alley?”
During one phone call he told her about his wife Diana, who did die on the operating table, but during an emergency hysterectomy, not a boob job.
“A week after her funeral I went to London. I have a buddy there, and we spent the next few months acting like total idiots, drinking every night, bedding every woman we could.”
“I hope you were careful.” Maureen had admitted to him that disease was a big worry for her, but she didn’t tell him how it contributed a great deal to her decision to remain celibate for this long. He didn’t ask about her sexual history, for that she was glad. She was prepared to tell him that she’d had only o
ne lover, which by the time they saw each other again, would be a fact. If he asked about her former lover, she could just feign heartbreak and change the subject.
He asked about her childhood, and she blushed when she related a story about shoveling walks on the way to the store to earn money to buy ramen noodles for the week. “Now that I’m an adult, I realize that not everybody lives like that. We had a small but decent house, and my mother’s car was reliable, if not luxurious, but we struggled. Mom and I were…are very close. I think it’s due to that.” Had she said too much? He was awfully quiet now. “How about you?”
“Me? Well, my mother’s car was pretty reliable too. I guess we have a lot in common.”
She laughed. He had a great way of putting her at ease and not making a big deal out of something that he knew embarrassed her. The more she talked to him, the more she liked his easy manner. They would speak for hours. Even though Boston was three hours ahead, and he had meetings all day.
“Maureen, I have to go, but I want you to know that I’m extremely hard right now, and in a few minutes I’m going to relieve myself in the shower. I want you to touch yourself and think of me tonight.”
He always ended their conversation by saying something intensely sexual, leaving her breathless and throbbing with need.
One night, as she sat in Lottie’s office chair, childishly spinning around in circles with her cell phone cradled against her ear, she caught sight of the sappy grin on her face as reflected in the dark computer screen on the desk. It was times like this that she had to remind herself to slow down. Don’t get your hopes up for a meaningful relationship. She wasn’t planning on making Las Vegas home. She’d thought about her hometown, or maybe a coastal community somewhere. Either way, getting into a relationship right now—especially right now—wasn’t a good idea. Once her mission was complete, she’d likely pack her bags and leave town.
“What was it like to grow up in Sin City?” she asked, twirling linked paperclips around on the tip of a pen. He was always reluctant to talk about his upbringing, and she couldn’t really figure out why. From what he did reveal, he was raised in a stable home with both parents.
Olivia Brynn Collection Volume 1 Page 10
