by Jasmine Hill
Sarah really hadn’t experienced that instant connection with anyone else but, if she was totally honest with herself, at twenty-six she was probably fairly inexperienced in comparison with other twenty-six-year-old women. She had only ever had two relatively serious relationships, which had been of short duration owing to her particular profession, and as far as her sexual encounters went, she could count them on one hand. She had accepted quite a while ago that relationships and her line of work were just not compatible. Unsurprisingly, men were often either intimated by her or became extremely jealous of her clients and thus far she hadn’t met anyone whom she felt was worth compromising for.
That was until she had met Maxwell McIver. That evening she had felt that they had made a real connection so she had been surprised and a little hurt that he hadn’t asked her for her number before they had gone their separate ways—women’s lib be damned, she still wanted the alpha male to make the first move.
A thrill of excitement shot through her at the prospect of seeing him again and she decided on the spur of the moment that this time she would be more forward with him. Perhaps she had been too standoffish during their last encounter. She knew that she could come across that way at times and if she examined that tendency too deeply she would probably conclude that it was a self-preservation mechanism. Now she just had to keep her true feelings about Maxwell under wraps as Roxy could be a real pain when she was in match-maker mode.
“You must remember Max,” Roxy said, breaking into her reverie. “He has this absolutely fab house at Kirribilli—wait until you see the view. His house is right on the harbour.”
“I do remember him. I hope I won’t be intruding—after all, he didn’t invite me to his party, you did,” Sarah pointed out.
“Max asked me to invite you, Sar, I do believe he was quite taken with you.” She smirked. “Adam will be there and James and Pat,” she continued.
“Speaking of Adam, are you two on or off at the moment?” Sarah asked.
“Oh, it’s definitely on. He will be meeting us there.”
“Now if I recollect, Adam went to university with Maxwell—is that right?”
“Yes, they’re good friends and he is a seriously nice guy, Sarah, and if that’s not enough he is a major-league hunk! I mean the guy is built, plus he’s single. Well, I don’t think he’s in a serious relationship—not that there aren’t any number of willing women. He did ask me about you and practically begged me to invite you today.”
Sarah seriously doubted that. Maxwell McIver seemed like the sort of guy who did not beg for anything and was more likely accustomed to getting anything he wanted. Then another thought hit her—had Roxy mentioned anything about her work at Fantasy?
“You haven’t told anyone what I do for a living, have you?” she asked.
Roxy cast a furtive look in Sarah’s direction. “I have your story straight, Sar—you are a student studying journalism at UNSW and you wait tables in the evening,” Roxy rattled off.
It wasn’t that Sarah was ashamed of her BDSM profession. It was just that experience had taught her to be cautious—some people didn’t understand and others were so intrigued by her occupation that they wanted to know all the ins and outs and be given blow-by-blow descriptions and, more often than not, asked personal things about clients that she couldn’t answer. When she had her time off, she wanted it to be just that—time off, not juggling an inquisitive stranger’s curious questions. She couldn’t quite answer the question of why she enjoyed the Dominatrix role herself although she did find the dominance aspect and the naughty, almost illicit nature of it quite appealing—she quite enjoyed stripping out of demure Sarah and slipping into dominant Mistress Kitty. It also paid very well and the clients were respectful, almost grateful for her services—well, most of her clients were respectful, she thought, as Mr X suddenly invaded her thoughts.
“Here we are,” Roxy declared, screeching to a halt in front of a deeply sloping driveway.
They made their way to the back of a magnificent house and, rounding a corner, they came across the party in full swing. Music was playing through outdoor speakers and people mingled in groups sipping champagne and drinking beer while waiters hovered nearby with trays of canapés. A large infinity pool jutted out across the water and was surrounded on three sides by a huge deck. Closer to the house long tables, groaning under the weight of every imaginable bottled beverage, were set up on the patio.
The view from the back of the house was magnificent and Sarah couldn’t help but stop and admire it.
Chapter Three
Maxwell McIver lounged casually against the bar and listened without interest to the conversation buzzing around him. He was waiting for Sarah to arrive. Ever since he had met her that evening at Roxy’s party his thoughts had been full of her—just thinking about her now made his cock twitch uncomfortably. Never had a woman affected him so much on first acquaintance.
Apart from the fact that she was gorgeous and had a body made for grasping during hard and furious sex, she was also charming and intelligent. Since he had met her he had wanted nothing but to see her again. He couldn’t work out why he hadn’t asked her for her number that first night. It wasn’t like him to be so reticent—he was used to going after what he wanted and getting it, particularly where women were concerned. But Sarah Maddox was different from other women he had met.
She exuded a fierce sexuality but seemed totally unaware of it. He also sensed in her something mysterious and a certain reserve that had made him slightly less sure of himself. Caution when approaching a woman was a feeling that he was totally unfamiliar with and one that had irritated him no end. Since that evening he had determined to meet her again and was looking forward to getting to know her better and this time there would be nothing stopping him from pursuing her further.
The moment he had been waiting for arrived as he watched Sarah walk in and stop to admire the view. His breath caught at the sight of her—God, she was beautiful. She was wearing a silk, backless dress that hugged her body in all the right places. Her lovely dark hair cascaded down her bare back, giving him the urge to sweep the tresses to one side and nibble on the soft skin of her neck.
As he watched she followed Roxy over to James and Pat. Maxwell’s eyes narrowed in irritation and a wave of anger swept through him as he watched James embrace her too closely and run his cold bottle of beer down her spine. Time to welcome Sarah personally and disengage her from that arsehole James, he decided as he strode purposefully in their direction.
“Come on,” Roxy said, tugging on Sarah’s arm, “there’s James and Pat.”
James and Pat were standing, cold beers in hand, admiring the view, when Sarah and Roxy joined them.
“James, Pat, you both remember Sarah,” Roxy said by way of a greeting.
“Sure do,” James replied pulling a surprised Sarah into a hug. She felt his cold beer against the bare skin of her back as he embraced her, making her shiver. Noting her shudder, he ran the cold beverage slowly down her spine until her nipples involuntarily hardened. Embarrassed, she pulled away from him quickly but could do nothing about her erect nipples, which were now jutting very visibly against the soft fabric of her dress.
“Nice to see you again, Sarah,” James said as he swept his eyes appreciatively up and down her body. Feeling uncomfortable under his blatant scrutiny, Sarah took a step backward and collided hard against a muscular chest. Startled, she spun around and found herself looking up into the dark eyes of Maxwell McIver.
“Hello, Sarah, I’m glad you could make it,” Max said to her as he kissed her on the cheek in greeting. “Everything okay?” he asked as he gave James a tight smile.
“Maxwell,” Sarah breathed. “Everything is lovely—it’s so nice to see you again.”
As she gazed up at him she felt butterflies set up a relentless fluttering in the pit of her stomach. God, he was more gorgeous than she remembered. As his dark eyes gazed intently into hers, the fluttering feeling became mo
re intense. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a lovesick teenager with a massive crush! Trying to regain her composure, she stepped back a little and self-consciously ran her hand through her hair.
“You have a lovely home, Maxwell,” she said to him. “Thank you for inviting me today.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he responded, handing her a glass of champagne. “I’m very glad that you could make it.”
Sarah took the glass gratefully, thankful for the diversion and something to do with her hands.
Max gave Roxy a peck on the cheek and greeted the men before ordering more beers from a hovering waiter. Now that he had turned his attention to the others, Sarah took a moment to study him. He was as tall as she remembered and dressed in dark jeans and an open-necked white shirt. His square jaw was lightly stubbled and his dark hair, expertly cut to suggest careless disarray, curled just above his collar. He was healthily tanned, which indicated that he enjoyed outdoor pursuits, and his body was toned and muscular. He obviously worked out—a lot! Sarah felt her stomach performing flip-flops once again and hoped that the heat she felt in her cheeks was not obvious. As if attuned to her thoughts, he turned to her and fixed her with his dark gaze.
“Has it only been two weeks since Roxy’s party?” he asked.
“Yes, but it seems like longer.” Probably because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since then. “I enjoyed meeting you that night and hoped that we might run into each other again, as you didn’t ask me for my number,” Sarah said lightly, hoping that she sounded teasingly nonchalant.
Max frowned before his smouldering gaze found hers once more. “That is unlike me. I don’t usually hesitate in going after something that I want,” he stated, “but you’re…” He hesitated. “Different.”
What was she supposed to make of that? Good different or bad different? She looked at him quizzically.
“Good different,” he said softly as if reading her thoughts.
“Well, Mr McIver, if I am ‘good different’, how did that stop you asking me for my number?” Sarah asked with a laugh.
He looked at her intently. “Because I saw something special in you that caught me off guard and I have to admit I wasn’t quite sure that you would have given me your number. That was two strikes—I’m not accustomed to feeling off guard and I’m used to getting what I want.” He shrugged. “I’ve made it up to you now, I hope, and redeemed myself. I’m glad you accepted my invitation even though it was made through Roxy.”
“I’m very glad you extended it.”
His intense gaze was unnerving her—she had the distinct impression that he was trying to peer into her soul and she shivered under his scrutiny.
“I’d like to show you around,” he said suddenly.
He grabbed a bottle of champagne from a hovering waiter then took Sarah by the hand and tugged her in the direction of the house. Sarah glanced quickly over her shoulder to catch her friend’s eye but Roxy, having seen her departing, just winked wickedly in her direction.
* * * *
Maxwell’s house was truly magnificent and very male—no frills or frippery. The rooms were obviously professionally decorated and could have been mistaken for a display home but for the numerous works of art that adorned many of the walls. She could see the artworks had not been chosen for their colours or design aesthetic but for their character and subject matter. Maxwell told Sarah that the artwork had all been chosen by him and collected over a period of years so she had been given a glimpse into his personality as she studied his choices. His taste was both eclectic and traditional and ranged from large contemporary originals dotted throughout the living areas to the Rubenesque ladies in Norman Lindsay originals adorning some of the bedrooms—he obviously appreciated the female form.
Much later, after a tour of his house, some dancing and several glasses of champagne, they were seated on a large comfortable outdoor lounge on the upstairs balcony, enjoying the sight of the harbour lights as they glimmered off the water. Sarah was feeling decidedly tipsy and laughed appreciatively as Max recounted an amusing tale that featured Roxy and Adam and an unfortunate excursion in Max’s boat. She could really fall for Maxwell McIver, she thought drowsily as she sipped her champagne. He had all the attributes that she looked for in a man—wit, charm, intelligence and great looks. Sighing, she leant back in her chair and closed her eyes in contentment.
“Am I boring you?” he asked sardonically.
“No, of course not,” she replied, opening her eyes to look at him. “The champagne, the view…and the company—it’s all quite intoxicating and I am completely relaxed,” she told him candidly.
“Really, you find the company intoxicating as well?” he asked, leaning towards her.
“Yes, very intoxicating.” God, the champagne was making her flirtatious!
He fixed his gaze on her, his eyes darkening subtly. She wanted him to touch her. Her eyes drifted to his lips and she imagined what his kiss would feel like. As if reading her mind he closed the distance between them so he was pressed against her.
“Do you find this intoxicating?” he asked, nibbling her earlobe. “Or this?” he said, kissing her neck and running his lips over the soft skin behind her ear.
“Oh yes,” she gasped as she felt her nipples grow erect and strain against the soft fabric of her dress.
As he kissed her neck he brushed his thumb tantalisingly lightly over one nipple then the other. He trailed his other hand down her bare back sending shivers along her spine and hardening her nipples further. She thought vaguely that things were moving faster than she was comfortable with but his mouth on her felt too good to resist and his skilful caresses were driving liquid heat straight to her core.
“You know that your nipples betray what you’re feeling,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “They tell me what you like. When I kiss your neck like this”—he brushed his lips lightly over her skin—“they get hard.”
Sarah swayed against him and he demonstrated his words by rubbing his thumb over the pebbled peak of each of her breasts as his lips continued their sensual assault on her neck.
“You know that I want to fuck you before this evening is over? I’ve wanted nothing more than to bury myself in you since I met you,” he mumbled against her ear as his fingers traced slow, sensuous circles over her right nipple.
Her insides tightened and a thrill shot through her at his erotic words. She lifted her arms and ran her hands through his hair as her breath quickened and she arched her back to press her breast harder into his palm.
He pulled away from her. She whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and opened her eyes to see him looking at her intently.
“If we are going to do this I want you to know that I don’t have any sexually transmitted diseases,” he said softly. “I get tested regularly—paperwork’s inside,” he continued with a crooked grin.
Sarah arched an eyebrow at his sudden revelation but was pleased that he had raised the subject.
“I’m healthy too. My paperwork is at home, though. I don’t run around with my health check results in my handbag,” she giggled. “But I’m not on the pill so we need protection.”
“Well, it wouldn’t do to get you knocked up, Ms Maddox. Now the preliminaries are out of the way, I can continue to seduce you,” he said as he trailed a hand up and down her spine.
She swayed and closed her eyes, drunk on the sensations he was arousing in her. She felt his lips close over her own before he kissed her passionately, his lips searing hers—branding her. Moaning, she returned his fervour and probed his mouth deeply with her tongue. She wriggled closer to him and brought one hand up behind his head to hold him in place while with the other she found his erection and stroked him through his jeans.
Groaning, he grabbed her backside with both hands and in one swift movement pulled her on top of him, her legs either side of his own. One of her dress straps had slipped down her shoulder, exposing a breast and a taut nipple. He palmed her brea
st and manipulated the nipple until it was fully extended then laved it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking deeply. Sarah gasped and thrust her breast against him, pushing it deeper into his mouth. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she clutched him hard against her, her fingernails digging into hard muscle and sinew.
“Bite it,” she moaned.
Complying, he grazed his teeth over her nipple before nibbling and biting it until she shuddered with pleasure. She felt his cock hard and throbbing between her legs. She wanted to touch him again, needed to feel his hot maleness, and she moved her hand down between them to massage him through the fabric of his jeans.
“God, I want to fuck you,” he growled as he pulled her other shoulder strap down so that she now sat astride him bare-breasted. Kneading a breast with each hand, he sucked one nipple then the other, drawing each one into his mouth hungrily. Sarah felt like she was floating, drunk on lust and champagne and totally uninhibited as she threw her head back, delighting in the sensations his mouth was creating…
Was that a door closing? Holding her breath for a second, she strained an ear to any unfamiliar noise when she heard the unmistakable sound of a woman’s voice.
“Maxxy? Maxxy, are you here?” the woman called, her voice growing nearer.
Sarah froze and quickly pulled up the straps of her dress as she struggled to get off Maxwell’s lap but he held her firmly in place, his hands clamped around her waist. She could feel his cock, hard and pulsating beneath her. At some stage he had undone his jeans and now he grabbed her hand and closed it around his erection. She jumped slightly in surprise at the size of it and he chuckled at her reaction.
“Don’t worry about her, she’ll go away,” he said as he caressed her arm lightly.
Sarah was having none of it, whoever ‘she’ was. She didn’t want her stumbling across them in flagrante. What if she was his girlfriend? Or worse—his mother!
