White-Hot and Hard

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White-Hot and Hard Page 8

by Catherine Chernow


  Dallen’s body went on full red alert, his cock swelling, his skin tingling with lust when Sloan made her entrance. Dressed in a form-fitting, sequined red dress and six-inch-high heels, she had everyone’s attention.

  “Good lord, I have to ask her where she got that stunning ensemble,” said Renee.

  “I don’t think that style is quite yours, Renee,” Dallen responded, his eyes following Sloan’s every move.

  The halter neckline of the dress plunged downward, revealing her deep cleavage She turned, and for a few seconds Dallen had a wonderful view of her long, narrow back and magnificent ass. The damn dress outlined every curve, every beautiful line of her body.

  A body he knew well.

  She was playing a dangerous sexual game, garnering the stares of every man in Renee’s packed town house. Even the servers had a difficult time maneuvering the crowd as they handed out drinks and small cocktail appetizers.

  Typical artsy, party food.

  Dallen longed for a steak. He wanted to share one with Sloan, feed it to her the same way he did when she stayed with him.

  He’d lick the savory juices from the corner of her lush mouth.

  A mouth he wanted to plunder right about now. Outlined perfectly in a deep red color, it suddenly became the focal point of his lust-filled thoughts.

  That and her backside. She turned again, revealing its exquisite round fullness.

  He longed to grab it with both hands, shove her dress up and plunder her ass.

  Fuck!

  He was burning up. His dick was so hard, he thought it would fall off.

  He swallowed. Hard.

  He took a sip of his drink, hoping it would cool the fire in his loins.

  It didn’t help.

  “Sloan is magnificent tonight, both inside and out. She’s emanating the most wonderful aura.”

  “Renee, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you have the hots for Sloan.” Dallen frowned.

  Renee tipped back his head and laughed, his long tresses and earrings dangling against his throat. He righted his head and swept back some hair from his shoulder, revealing his earthy cocoa-colored skin. Renee’s outfit rivaled Sloan’s, its glittery top a mass of shiny beads. A popular drag queen who lived in New York’s SoHo district, Renee was also a collector of fine, expensive art.

  “Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Dallen?” Renee chuckled again.

  Dallen’s anger simmered just below the boiling point. Sloan stood off to the side, chatting with two men. One of them, Dallen knew, was a philosophy professor at Columbia with a penchant for odd photographic art, and the other, a popular photographer who owned a fancy gallery in SoHo.

  Both were straight as nails and loved to share women.

  He imagined Sloan in bed with the two of them. They would give her the absolute attention that he should be giving her. Dallen got the feeling that their dreamy, soft-faced looks mirrored his own, and he hated himself for it.

  She was getting the best of him.

  It was time to give Sloan what she deserved and truly wanted…

  Dominance.

  He’d enjoy every second of it, and so would she.

  As he strode over to her, he was amazed that giving her what she wanted mattered more than his own desires.

  He was well and truly fucked because he knew deep down that she didn’t want a damn thing to do with him.

  * * * * *

  Sloan saw Dallen heading straight toward her.

  She loathed him. Utterly hated how devastatingly handsome he looked dressed in dark gray wool slacks and a snug black T-shirt drawn tight across his wide, magnificent chest. It was topped off with a dark suit jacket, cut so that it showed off the massive width of his shoulders.

  Working with a hammer and chisel certainly made him broad on top.

  She glanced at his crotch, where his cock bulged, and at his narrow hips and his long legs.

  A small bead of sweat lined her upper lip. She took a sip of wine, allowing some of its crisp, cool wetness to soothe her upper lip.

  Then she licked it off with the tip of her tongue.

  Dallen must have seen it, for his eyes sparked, the blue color deepening.

  She moved closer to Lee, the philosophy professor she’d met a while back when she visited James Stanton’s photo gallery. Lee was James’ friend, and for a few months, she, Lee and James dabbled in a ménage relationship.

  Both men had paid her the most exquisite attention.

  But they weren’t Dallen, for they never hit her sexual mark.

  Her professional relationship with James, however, was too important to trash simply because they didn’t satisfy her sexually.

  “I have never,” she said just loud enough for Dallen to hear, “forgotten what the three of us shared.” She lifted her glass in homage to James and Lee.

  Dallen’s face tightened. It looked positively thunderous.

  His anger excited her. Her pussy throbbed as she imagined Dallen hauling her off to one of the bedrooms in Renee’s town house. He’d shut the door, then raise the hem of her dress and—

  “I want to talk to you.” His deep voice drifted by her ear. His warm breath swirled across her throat, heating her skin and fueling her lust.

  “James, Lee, meet Dallen O’Neal.” She licked her lips.

  Dallen’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightened.

  “He’s a very talented artist.”

  “Oh, really? In what medium?”

  “Marble,” Dallen said through clenched teeth.

  “White-hot, smooth, sensual marble.” Sloan sipped her drink and laid a hand on James’ chest. She fingered his shirt. “You’ve never seen such exquisite marble, gentlemen.”

  “Really?” Lee shook his head. “Where do you get such stone from, may I ask?”

  “You may not,” Dallen responded, his tone curt.

  Sloan gave both men a wide, generous smile. “He’s such a temperamental man. Talented, but with one of those giant egos.”

  Lee and James glanced at Dallen, confusion lining their faces.

  They don’t know what to make of any of this, Sloan thought.

  Neither did she.

  Usually, she only spoke highly of clients, but she wanted to torment Dallen, make him feel small. She realized her mistake too late. Taunting him was the game she loved to play with him the most.

  Oh, what a fucking tangled web she spun for herself.

  A delicious, sensual, trap.

  “You see, gentlemen.” She sipped her wine, its fruity taste going straight to her head. She should fill her stomach and eat one of those damn soggy appetizers Renee always served at these parties, but it wasn’t food she hungered for, it was Dallen. “Dallen wants to keep the source of his exquisite marble a secret until his opening.” She reached for Lee’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “He doesn’t want to reveal too much too soon. If you’ll all excuse me, I see someone I must speak with.”

  “Of course,” Lee and James murmured.

  She turned on her heel and walked away, making sure she swayed her hips just enough so that Dallen noticed.

  He was by her side in seconds.

  She patted her handbag, feeling the outline of the secret weapon she carried inside.

  When Dallen saw it, he wouldn’t be able to resist.

  “I want to talk to you,” he growled low. “Now.”

  She stopped then turned to face him. “Of course. Is it about our contract?” Her eyes widened. “I am here, after all, purely on business tonight, in an effort to promote you.”

  “Cut the crap, Sloan. You’re here purely to get my attention.”

  Her temper bloomed. She hated that he knew her so well. Time to bring out the big guns. If she was going to go down, then she’d go down with a fight.

  She lifted her chin. “For your information, Mr. O’Neal, most of these people here are my friends as well as my business contacts. You’d do well to remember that.” She inched closer to his tall frame, inhaling his citrusy,
musky scent.

  Delicious.

  It made her head spin.

  It was either that or the wine. She put her glass down. Sloan wanted to do battle with him with a clear mind.

  “One word from me,” she lowered her voice, “and I can make you or break you.” She trailed a finger across his chest. She felt the play of muscles beneath her hand. “You’d do well to remember that.”

  “Fuck all that.” He looked around then grabbed hold of her upper arm, his grip gentle but unyielding. “I want a private word with you. I’ve got something to say, and you’re going to listen to it.” His face softened for just a second. “Please.”

  “I don’t have to listen to one damned thing,” she answered, her jaw tight, her hand balled into a fist at her side.

  He looked down on it. “Don’t you dare take a swing at me here.”

  Oh how she wanted to.

  But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a physical punch. She wanted to wound him deeply, in his fragile ego.

  She allowed him to lead her through the crowded room, nodding and smiling as they went along. Sloan realized that while his grip was firm, she could have extricated herself from it at any time.

  She didn’t want to.

  She wanted to go where he led.

  Damn her traitorous hormones.

  Her pussy throbbed while he marched her along.

  “Lee and James are good friends of mine.” She decided to push her advantage. “We spent a few glorious weeks together, if you get my drift.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks. She almost bumped into his broad back.

  He turned, facing her. “Oh really?” He raised a dark brow.

  “Yes. Really. They knew how to please me.” She made her voice deeper, sexier. “They pushed all the right buttons.”

  He leaned down. Inhaling deeply, he replied, “I can smell your arousal, Sloan. I did the minute I was near you. I could smell it in that crowded room. Your sweet, musky, unique odor filled my head.”

  She almost melted into a puddle at his feet.

  He trailed a finger down her cleavage. “I doubt any other man understands you as well as I do.” He shook his head, a corner of his mouth lifting. “Naughty girl. Wearing such seductive clothing.”

  Her breasts felt heavy, almost leaden.

  “And you’re trying to make me jealous. For that you’re going to be punished.”

  She sucked in a breath, her cunt aching for release.

  She gripped her handbag, carefully releasing the latch.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Her voice vibrated with anger and uncontrolled lust.

  “I’d dare just about anything where you’re concerned.” His voice, while deep, held tender notes. “You just don’t realize it. I did, too late in the game.”

  “My life isn’t a game.” Her lips trembled. Tears threatened.

  “Yes it is. A tender, sweet, sexual, wonderful game. I messed up all the pieces, though, didn’t I?”

  “Fuck you.” She pushed against his chest.

  This was getting out of hand. He was sucking her in, seducing her with his false tenderness.

  Oh how she wanted that. How she wanted his hand on her ass again. She played it out, even though he held all the cards.

  Almost. She had one left.

  “The only thing I’ll speak to you about is our professional relationship.”

  She turned on her heel, intent on leaving.

  “I said I was sorry.”

  She turned back. “Sorry? Is that supposed to solve everything?”

  “It’s a start.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I miss you.”

  “I loathe you,” she spat at him.

  “Tell me the truth. You miss me.”

  She tossed her hair back over one shoulder. “I miss Lee and James. I’m going back to them. I left them rudely. It wasn’t nice.”

  Again she turned around.

  He spun her back to face him. “Don’t, Sloan. Don’t do it.”

  “They know how to treat a woman.”

  “I’m warning you.”

  “Fuck you and fuck your warning.”

  She marched down the hall but suddenly felt the wind knocked from her body. By the time she realized what was happening, she was suspended midair, dangling over Dallen’s shoulder.

  She clawed at his back. “Put me down.”

  “I’m going to,” he said through clenched teeth.

  He kicked open a door and tossed her onto a bed. She bounced once then scrambled to her knees and reached for the nearest thing, a metal carafe. Lifting it by the handle, she hurled it at Dallen’s head, but her aim was off.

  It bounced off his chest. She bounded off the bed and ran toward the door.

  “Damn it to hell, Sloan, get back here.”

  He caught the back of her dress and tugged. She fell backward against him and they both tumbled onto the bed.

  She was caught again, which only ignited her temper more.

  She reached for the lamp, wanting to brain the life from him with its heavy base.

  He curled an arm around her waist, his forearm beneath her breasts.

  Just that slight touch made her nipples peak.

  “You little bitch, you’re going to get what you deserve.”

  His deep voice made her cunt throb.

  He tossed her over his lap. She lay sprawled across his thighs, her pussy dripping.

  Her handbag lay on the carpet, its contents spilled on the rug. Dallen leaned down and retrieved a flat, wide hairbrush.

  “Well, well.” He chuckled. “Look what we have here.”

  “You wouldn’t dare use that on me.”

  She clutched the material of his pants leg, her heart racing. She hoped he would indeed.

  He raised the hem of her dress. Cool air swirled around her thighs, then she felt it creep up, toward her cunt.

  “How positively naughty. You’re not wearing any underwear.” He ran the back of the smooth, wide hairbrush across her bottom.

  “Fuck you.” She had to stop herself from grinding her cunt against his thigh.

  He trailed the rounded tip of the hairbrush between the cleft of her bottom cheeks. “That’s going to earn you a nice, hard slap on your ass.”

  Swat!

  The back of the hairbrush connected with her backside.

  Sloan squirmed on his lap, a pleasant heat searing into her bottom.

  Oh how she missed playing this seductive game with Dallen.

  “I don’t give a shit what you do.”

  “Yes you do. I know you do.” He trailed the end of the hairbrush against her sweet spot, where her ass and thighs joined. “But your mouth is so foul.”

  Swat!

  Her bottom stung this time.

  “Everyone knows what’s going on, Sloan. They know I’m spanking you.”

  Cum seeped between her thighs. She wondered if she could stand a second more. If she didn’t have an orgasm soon, she would shatter.

  Swat! Swat!

  He hit her ass with the back of the hairbrush again. She felt the burn go down her legs.

  Delicious.

  She ground her pussy against his leg.

  Swat! Swat! Swat!

  “Don’t you dare come yet.” His deep, wicked voice drifted by her ear. He whispered again. “Remember our rule, Sloan, if you want me to stop, say ‘red’.”

  Stop? Was he kidding? She wanted it to go on forever.

  Swat! Swat!

  “Are you going to promise never to make me jealous again?”

  “No. I hate you. I’m going to torment you always.”

  Swat!

  A deep, delicious burn traveled down her legs to her toes. It was strange how that slap on her ass affected her entire body.

  She hated that she loved it so much.

  “And you’re going to wear underwear when we’re out in public.”

  “Screw that,” she replied, her voice quivering.

  Swat! Swat!

  �
��Promise me and I’ll stop.”

  “Never.”

  Swat! Swat! Swat!

  Her ass erupted in flames.

  She wanted more.

  She wasn’t ready to give up. She almost creamed against his legs, but she held out.

  “I’ll do as I please.”

  Swat! Swat! Swat!

  The last slap on her bottom did it. She let go of pent-up emotion, her juices flowing, drenching his leg with her cum.

  She released the breath she’d held, all tension leaving her body.

  Dallen eased her off his lap.

  “My beautiful, brave Sloan.”

  His deep, tender voice swirled inside her. She curled her arms around his neck and tugged his head down for an intense kiss.

  Gently he placed her on the bed, cradling her burning bottom in his palms Then he leaned down and feasted on her cunt, his mouth and tongue doing an erotic dance across the lips of her vagina. He sucked on her clit, pulling it into his mouth.

  She almost came again.

  “Dallen,” she moaned, tossing her head from side to side. “Dallen. Dallen.”

  When he passed his tongue across her cunt, he made sure to place the tip against the button of flesh nestled in her pussy.

  Then he licked her again.

  “Dallen,” she cried, her orgasm ramming into her.

  She gripped the bedsheets in her fisted hands, reveling in her release. Her cunt dripped, it soaked the sheets beneath her.

  She didn’t care.

  She’d give Renee a whole new set, buy him an entire new bed and mattress for that matter.

  As long as Dallen would keep making love to her.

  He loosened the belt on his pants, then she heard him unfasten them. Her hands went to the zipper, as if by their own accord, helping him pull it down and free his cock.

  She heard the familiar rustle of foil.

  In one swift movement, he flipped her on her belly, entering her from behind with his sheathed cock.

  He took her ass, using a wet finger to lubricate her channel. The next thing she felt was his balls slapping against her burning bottom.

  It heightened her arousal, making her so wet she soaked the coverlet beneath them again.

  She arched her back, enjoying every sensation his cock wrought on her bottom hole.

  “I hate you,” she told him.

  “I know you do.”

  He pushed into her deeper, then used his hand to massage her cunt.

 

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