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Flirt

Page 4

by India Masters


  “He’s not what you think he is.”

  Well, that was cryptic. “Who?”

  “Noah Lazarus.”

  Surprised, she stopped. “Excuse me?”

  “The man you work for, and who likely shared your bed last night. He’s not what you think he is. He’s a dangerous man, Ms. Sheppard. And he’s a marked man. You’d do well to keep your distance. Consider this a warning. It’s the only one you’ll get.” When she reached out to grab him, the man spun away. “You’ve been warned.” With that, the mysterious runner sprinted away.

  “What the fuck?” She stood there, hands on her hips and watched the man disappear around the corner. Noah Lazarus had some explaining to do. Later.

  She looked up at the sky. Storm clouds gathered over the gulf. A storm was moving in, all right, but she found herself wondering what kind.

  * * * *

  “So he says to me—you’ve been warned—and sprints away.” She dug into her crabmeat cheesecake and waited for her friend’s response.

  “Wow. Was he armed?”

  Good, she was in cop mode. “Not that I could see. I mean, he was in running clothes, so I’d guess, no.”

  “Think you could describe him to Gabby?”

  The woman Allie mentioned was one of NOPD’s best sketch artists. “Probably, but I’m not sure I want to go there just yet. I mean, Barrett checked Lazarus out for me. He’s clean.”

  “So, maybe it’s personal, not professional. Maybe a woman scorned? A business deal that didn’t work out the way someone wanted it to? Could be anything, but you definitely need to discuss it with him. That was a viable threat, sugar. Don’t wait around to see what happens next.”

  Olivia took the last bite of her crabmeat cheesecake when the Pasta St. Charles arrived. She murmured her thanks and dug in, spearing a shrimp and two cream-coated pieces of penne pasta. She couldn’t hold back an appreciative moan of delight. “God, I love this dish.”

  Allie dug into her Cochon Du Lait Pot Pie. “I tried making this pot pie for David, many moons ago. Something got lost in translation, though. Spent the whole night in the bathroom.”

  “Eeewww, TMI, Allie!” A snorting laugh escaped her and she reached for her tea. “God, and you with only one bathroom. What a night that must have been.”

  Allie giggled. “All I can say is being sick with someone puts a whole different slant on the relationship.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “I really don’t recommend sharing a space with someone you’re intimate with—too many bodily functions to become accustomed to.”

  Olivia cracked up. “Oh, God! I’m never giving up my condo—not ever!”

  “Not even for Noah Lazarus?”

  “Not even for him.”

  “Smart girl.”

  She took another bite. “Hey, I’m heading over to Magazine Street. Wanna come?”

  “Trashy Diva?” Olivia nodded. “Hell, yes! I need something sexy for tonight.”

  * * * *

  Olivia put the disturbing incident with the runner aside and concentrated on finishing the rest of her errands. It was Friday. The club would be jumping tonight, and she wanted to look her best for her new lover. She pulled the fiery red Beamer, which Noah had thoughtfully returned, into her parking space and hit the trunk latch.

  She climbed out of the car and retrieved her shopping bags, pausing when a flower delivery van pulled up behind her. “You Ms. Sheppard?”

  “Yes.”

  “Flowers for you, ma’am.”

  She smiled at the deliveryman handing her a box and murmured her thanks.

  The box contained two perfectly formed magnolias, their waxy beauty filling the air with an intoxicating scent. She inhaled and read the card. “Looking forward to tonight,” was written in elegant, old-world script and signed simply, Noah. More pleased than she should have been, she rummaged through the sideboard for a deep crystal bowl. Filling it with distilled water and a bit of sugar, she placed a perfect magnolia in the bowl and carried it into the bedroom. The delicate floral scent kept her company while she dressed for the evening.

  Olivia was just putting the finishing touches on her Rita Hayworth hairstyle when the gate buzzer sounded. She cinched her silk robe around her waist and hurried to activate the video-intercom system. Noah. She pressed the lock release and opened the front door when he started up the walk.

  When he reached her, his arm curved around her waist, pulling her hard against him. She’d never cared for domineering men, but there was something about this one. He swooped down to take her lips in a searing kiss, and she melted against him as helpless as a kitten, arms twined around his neck.

  He lifted her off her feet and stepped through the door. “You smell like magnolias,” he whispered, breaking the kiss. “And arousal. Do you want me, Olivia?”

  His hands wrenched the tie at her waist and the robe fell open. His hands cupped her breasts and pressed her against the door. “Answer me. Do you want me?”

  “God, yes!” His mouth was at her breast, drawing strongly on her. His hand slid between her legs, stroking her through the delicate silk and lace. He hooked a finger under the edge to give himself access to her warm cunt. She cried out when he slid his middle finger into her.

  “Did you get wet the moment you saw it was me, kitten?” He drove into her slowly.

  “Yes . . . ah . . . God, Noah!”

  He added another finger and went deep again.

  He removed his fingers and shrugged out of his jacket, then slid the robe from her body. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”

  Those fingers were back, strong and forceful, driving her mad while he whispered in her ear, “I’m going to strip these pretty panties off you, right here, and eat your pussy.”

  Oh, God! His mouth traveled down her body, his lips and mouth scorching hot against her skin. She moaned when his fingers left her once more and curled around the lacy edges of her expensive thong. He eased it down, and she kicked it away.

  One big hand lifted her leg to drape it over his shoulder, and his mouth was on her, burrowing into her wet heat to lash, suck, and circle her clit and tormenting the sensitive bud until all she could hear were her own cries of arousal.

  Dear God, it was as if he were starving! His ravenous mouth sought her molten core, drawing at her, devouring every sip of cream he coaxed from her. She didn’t hear the zipper hiss, never felt her leg slide from his shoulder when he spun her around. Suddenly, he kicked her legs apart with his foot and speared her with his cock, ramming deep.. She screamed and he powered into her, lifting her onto her tiptoes with each jolt, making her come with a violence she’d never experienced.

  “Oh my God!” It was almost too much. Almost. And then he was there, ramming into her one last time, bellowing his own release as hot semen jetted into her. She sagged against him, scarcely able to stand.

  “Well, hello to you too.” She sighed weakly.

  He molded his hands to them. “Sorry, love. I’ve been thinking of you all day, the scent of you, the silk of your skin, the grip of your pussy as I took you. I lost control the moment I saw you.”

  When he turned her in his arms, she went to him willingly. She laughed softly. God, he was gorgeous, and he fucked like a man who’d had extensive experience, which he surely possessed.

  Men like Noah Lazarus, wealthy and handsome, could have any woman they wanted. Why he wanted her was a mystery, but she intended to enjoy it as long as she could.

  “I like the way you lose control, Lazarus. Feel free to do it again, any time.”

  “Come, let’s get you dressed before I’m tempted to take you again.” He followed her into the bedroom.

  “Thank you for the magnolias. I set one aside to wear in my hair tonight.”

  She took the forties-style dress from her closet. The material was a heavyweight silk, crepe de chine, sprigged with a lovely large floral print on a gray background. The voluminous circular skirt draped beautifully, while the structured bodice was made to give
the support of a bra. “Zip me?” She turned her back to him.

  “My pleasure.” She shivered when his fingers brushed her still sensitive skin. “And may I say, this is a marvelous choice?” He turned her so he could get the full effect of the garment. “Stunning. The magnolia will add just the right touch. I’ll get it for you.”

  Olivia sat on the bed and slid her feet into a flashy pair of red patent-leather pumps. She crossed to her dressing table and ran a brush through her hair, smoothing it back into its earlier style. Noah handed her the magnolia, and she attached it to a gold-wire comb with dental floss and slid the comb into her hair above her ear. Then she dabbed a bit of magnolia-scented oil to her pulse points. “That’s as good as it gets.”

  Noah held out his hand and assisted her to her feet. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  * * * *

  The line curled all the way around the building. Olivia didn’t know why she was surprised. She’d done her share of clubbing in her younger days. “Looks like another busy night.” Noah braked to allow a customer to cross in front of him, she realized the woman was Allie. “Hang on, that’s my friend. Let’s take her in the back way.”

  “Certainly.” He hit the window controller.

  “Hey, Al!” Olivia called. Her friend turned, grinning. “Hop in. You can come in with us.”

  “Cool,” Allie said, opening the back door. She slid onto the seat and smiled at Noah. “Hi, I’m Allie St. Claire. You must be Noah Lazarus.”

  He nodded politely. “Indeed, I am.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. St. Claire. Olivia speaks highly of you.”

  Allie laughed while he drove around the back of the building. “She’d better, we’ve only been best friends since kindergarten.” He raised an eyebrow, and she chuckled. “It’s a Southern thing.”

  “I see.” He parked and got out of the car, walked around to open Olivia’s door, handing her out of the car. He did the same for Allie, then escorted the women inside where Ian stood waiting. “Ms. St. Claire, my bother, Ian. Ian, Allie St. Claire, Olivia’s closest friend. Would you mind escorting her to the bar while Olivia and I discuss business?”

  “Not at all.” Ian offered Allie his arm, which she happily took, winking at Olivia.

  Their voices drifted off down the hall and she stepped into Noah’s office. “You don’t mind Allie being here, do you?” she asked when the door closed behind them.

  “Of course not. Just promise to keep her out of the back room?”

  She laughed softly. “No problem there, boss,” she said, turning to leave.

  “Olivia.”

  When she turned around, he was right behind her. He took her face between his hands and lowered his head to kiss her.

  She sighed. His lips slanted over hers, his tongue gently caressing, tasting her. She leaned into him, sliding her arms around his waist, deepening the kiss. There was tenderness and yearning in the kiss, not the hunger kiss of earlier this evening when he’d had to have her or burst. This was a gentle, emotion-filled kiss of a lover. She trembled in his arms and, fearing he would overwhelm her with the sheer depth of feeling conveyed by his kiss, fought the urge to flee.

  She’d never been in a relationship before. The best she’d been able to offer any man was a quick-and-dirty fling before she flew off to wherever the army sent her. At the ripe old age of thirty-five, she’d been to more countries than she could count but she’d never been in love. What she was feeling scared the hell out of her. He wanted too much.

  She broke the kiss, pressing her palms against his chest to free herself. His hand burrowed in her hair, and he pulled her head back. “I won’t let you run away from me, kitten.”

  She shoved at him, fearful of the longing he engendered in her. “Don’t misinterpret what’s between us, Noah. I don’t do permanent.”

  “It’s unfortunate you feel that way, pet, because I do, and I make a point of keeping what’s mine.”

  Panic colored her cheeks, and she tried to shove him away but he held her tight against him. “Yours?” When he refused to release her from the cage of his arms, she forced her arms up and out, trying to break his hold. “You’re mistaken if you think I’ll ever belong to anyone.”

  The look on his face was so primal, so possessive, that her knees almost gave way. “The minute you spread your legs for me, you became mine. Don’t doubt that for a minute.”

  “How crude. Then I guess I won’t—”

  She never got the opportunity to finish her sentence. He swooped down and covered hers in a kiss so fiercely hot and domineering it took her breath away.

  Her head swam. The heat of his kiss swamped her senses. For some reason, she fisted in his shirt, and she heard herself moan while his tongue plundered her mouth. Dear God, he could take her up against the heavy oak door and she would happily let him, would encourage him to do it! So much for her outraged protest.

  His erection was hard and heavy against her belly and her fingers ached to curl around it, stroke it, free it from the confines of those expensive slacks and beg him to fill her. He pressed her against the door and, lifting her full skirt, pushing his thigh between her legs. He must have felt her shudder in response, for he sought her out, slipping his fingers under the edge of her silky panties to stroke her slit.

  He chuckled, a darkly erotic vibration in his throat, his tongue continued to mate with hers. His fingers went deep, stroking between her trembling legs. He caressed her clit with his thumb, and she cried out, until his mouth swallowed the sound.

  Oh, God, she was riding his hand like some brazen hussy in a romance novel, a woman with no control over her body or emotions. She knew if he ordered her to cross the room and bend over his desk, she’d do it, just to feel the thrill of that enormous cock buried to the hilt.

  “Tell me you’re not mine and I’ll stop,” he rasped, breaking the kiss. “Tell me we don’t belong to each other, Olivia, and I’ll never touch you again.” His fingers went deeper and she sobbed his name. “That’s what I thought.” And then his fingers were gone, and her dress fluttered around her calves. “Come to me during your dinner break and we’ll finish what we’ve started.”

  She gaped at him. “I … you … oh, you are a shit, Noah Lazarus.” When he stepped back, she pushed away from the door. “You can just hold your breath and see if I come back here!”

  He laughed softly, mocking her. “Don’t pout, kitten. It’s unbecoming.”

  “Oh! You are the most . . . smug—” She glared at him. Then she lifted her chin in a haughty gesture and swept out of his office, muttering something about a cold day in hell.

  Work kept her busy and she didn’t seek Noah out during her dinner break. In fact, she didn’t have a dinner break because all hell broke out when a newly minted journalist tried to get past security and into the fantasy room.

  Janine Casey hadn’t been out of journalism school long, but she was already making a name for herself by becoming an inspired tabloid reporter. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do to get a salacious take on a story, and the fantasy room of Flirt was right up her alley.

  Olivia stopped her attempt to push past the security detail in the corridor leading to the back room. She almost hoped the little twit would try and get by her. Noah had left her spoiling for a fight.

  “Pardon me, Ms. Casey, only members are allowed past this point.”

  The petite reporter huffed. “Well, I applied for membership, but I haven’t received my acceptance letter yet. I was given to understand one could observe the festivities by applying.”

  Olivia gave her a serene smile. “That’s assuming you pass the first round of background checks—which you did not. A letter was sent to you last week, denying your membership.”

  Janine glared at her. “I most certainly did not receive any such letter.”

  “Really?” Butter would have melted in Olivia’s mouth. “But I sent it certified.” She placed a gentle arm on the reporter’s shoulder to guide her toward the bar area. “Why don’t
we step into my office and see if I’ve received the return receipt.” She knew damn well she had.

  Janine exhaled a sigh. “All right, so I got it, but the people of New Orleans have a right to know if Noah Lazarus is running a sex club in this city!”

  Olivia cocked her head. “Really? And do you actually believe they’d care about what’s going on at a nightclub when the city has the highest murder rate in the nation?” She gave her a sad, admonishing look. “The issue of invading peoples’ privacy not withstanding, don’t you think the public would be better served if you focused on the issues plaguing this city? Or is this the career you had in mind for yourself when you went to journalism school? Peddling smut is hardly an admirable goal, Ms. Casey.”

  Janine put her hands on her hips and tossed her head, setting her blond curls to bouncing. “I saw the governor’s son come in here!”

 

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