Addicted (Tempting Book 4)

by Alex Lucian

  “Mmm, yes. I like that. I want to be able to see your face the whole time. See what it does to you to be inside of me. Fucking me.” She sighed. “You can do so much behind me. Spank me, bruise me, go so deep that it almost hurts.”

  “Fucking hell,” I panted, moving my hand faster. “Yeah, all of it. Do I get your ass, Ruby? Will you let me go there?”

  Ruby whimpered, and I imagined her sleek, elegant fingers moving in tight circles over her clit.

  “Tell me, baby,” I growled. “My dick is so hard it hurts, I can’t jerk it hard enough right now thinking about your pussy. Tell me how you feel.”

  “Wet, oh God, so wet. I wish I could see you, Elias. I wish I could see you jerk yourself off. I want it on me, on my skin,” she panted. “Come on, Elias, come for me. Let me hear it.”

  I tugged again, grinding my teeth as the orgasm fled up my spine in a blinding flash of heat. I came in long, hot spurts on my stomach. I milked the last few waves of pleasure, unable to hear anything but my own heavy breathing in my ears. “Good Lord, woman. You are potent. I haven’t had phone sex since I was nineteen.”

  Ruby laughed, and I grimaced when I realized she sounded completely put-together. Unruffled.

  “You didn’t actually touch yourself, did you?” I asked, trying not to sound pissed. But just under the surface, I was. Because that had felt real. Maybe because I hadn’t set down an envelope of cash, who knows.

  “Of course I did.”

  But I didn’t believe her. I sighed and leaned over to grab a tissue from my nightstand, shaking my head while I wiped my stomach clean.

  “So I’ll see you Friday at seven, right?”

  “Of course,” she purred into the phone. “Call me again if you need a little pick me up. Free of charge.”

  I snorted when I hung up. Free of charge, my ass. So far I’d paid fifteen grand for a self-given orgasm. Ruby was making me lose my fucking mind.

  Chapter Nine

  Finding a dress for this black tie event had proven harder than usual. I’d stared into the bowels of my closet for what felt like an eternity, mentally rejecting everything my gaze fell upon. Everything was too flashy, or too boring—there was no in-between.

  So I’d dragged myself through a nearby shop, handing over more cash than I typically spent for a dress that would wow. If Elias could fork over fifteen thousand dollars for my company, I should certainly look worth every single red cent.

  I was in just my bra and panties, two wisps of lacy fabric held together by some wire and heavy duty-thread. Their scarlet color matched my dress, which hung from my closet door as I finished up my makeup. The dress was unlike anything else I owned—it screamed for attention in capital letters—from the sweetheart strapless neckline all the way down the column to where it fanned out, mermaid-style, at my feet.

  Usually, I opted for demure; classic. I favored dresses that were understated in their elegance, but my presence had rarely been required for events like this. I often played up my face with makeup, but the dress didn’t need any competition in that way. So I wore a nude lip with a smoky eye. As I stood in front of the full-length mirror, I pressed a hand to my stomach as I took myself in. I wore my hair over one shoulder, full waves that came to my breasts. And in my eyes, I wore the lightest trace of nerves.

  Elias wasn’t like any of my other clients. For one, Elias was hot. And I’d had fun with him, something that wasn’t typical of any escort. Sure, many men had tried to please me, but after I’d pushed them away from giving me oral sex—a no-no in this industry—they usually just accepted what I could give them, without worrying about reciprocal pleasure. But Elias had pressed all of my buttons, paid attention to my cues, made sure that I was enjoying myself as much as he was.

  Which also made him the tiniest bit dangerous. I was paid to provide pleasure to my clients. Receiving pleasure, while not necessarily unheard of, was rare. And, what’s more, Elias had never treated me like an escort, like someone who was paid to open her legs. He’d treated me like someone he’d had instant chemistry with, someone he genuinely wanted to get to know. For the next thirty days, at least.

  I checked the clock, which was closing in on five. The address Elias had texted me was on the other side of Manhattan, so I’d hired a car to bring me there. Again, a splurge—a break from the usual for me. I didn’t trust a taxi, not when I was wearing a dress like that and sliding on seats that probably hadn’t been wiped down in so long they were sticky from various bodily fluids.

  The mere thought gave me a shiver of disgust, remembering the time my yoga pants had physically stuck to one taxi seat. I’d never determined what the sticky substance was, not that I’d actually spent much time trying to dissect it.

  Fletcher wrapped himself around my legs and I reached down to rub his head. “You going to be okay without me tonight?” I cooed to him as my recently manicured nails lightly scratched down his back.

  My phone chimed and I picked it up instantly, half expecting Elias to text me, telling me he was coming to pick me up himself. He had a little bit of an alpha air about him, something I knew I’d need to watch for. The thought itself had strange timing, when I opened the text message to see something from an unknown number, but no doubt my manipulative ex-boyfriend.

  It’s Nicholas. I’m not sure if you received my text the other night. Let’s get together. Tonight?

  With disgust, I dropped my phone and shook my hand, as if I was shaking his presence from my life. I debated for only a fraction of a second to reply, to tell him, politely, to fuck off. But he wasn’t worth even one letter, so I picked my phone back up only to delete it and block his number. Just then, a text from Stella came in.

  Stella: What dress are you slaying with tonight?

  I held my phone up and took a photo of the dress, still on the hanger, and then pressed send before I applied the final touches on my makeup. Another text came in just as I was packing my clutch.

  Stella: Hot. What makeup are you wearing?

  I sent her a photo of my face and then slipped into the dress finally, realizing the car would be arriving at any moment. When my phone buzzed again, I was nearly headed out the door.

  Stella: With a dress like that, you need a red lip. Don’t even argue with me on this.

  Stella was a pushy bitch. I equally loved and was annoyed by that, but when I looked at myself in the mirror by my door, I decided, with great reluctance, that she was right. After swiping a tube from my vanity, I slicked the bright red on my lips and took another photo of my face, with an added middle finger held up for her, too.

  Stella: Nice manicure. And much better—he’ll be thinking about those lips wrapped around that Godzilla dick of his all night.

  I laughed at that and tucked my phone in the clutch so I could lock my apartment up.

  A black car was waiting curbside, outside. As soon as I’d stepped up to the curb, a man in a suit walked out of the driver’s side and greeted me.

  “Hello, Miss Stavros.”

  I smiled at Joseph, Lenore’s driver. “Hi, Joe.”

  He opened the back door and I slid in, settling into the cool leather and breathing a sigh to eliminate my nerves. Joseph worked for Lenore, but he didn’t come free to us girls. He was more affordable than most drivers, but Lenore took a cut of our earnings to use him.

  “How are classes?” Joe asked, his crinkled brown eyes peering at me through the rear view mirror.

  “Just finished my finals,” I said, my voice betraying none of the excitement I felt at that. This would be my first summer off of studying in eight years, and I was looking forward to not combatting stress pimples every few weeks. Lenore hated when I got them.

  The drive to upper Manhattan felt fast, mostly because talking with Joe was like talking with an old friend. But by the time he pulled up in front of a spectacle of lights and rope, the nerves returned to my belly. Joe stopped the car and got out to open my door as I looked through the window, seeing if I could spot Elias. There were so m
any people, and the entrance was blocked off by thick ropes as people stood in front of a backdrop emblazoned with logos, to have their photos taken by the photographers who waited on the opposite side.

  When Joe opened my door, it was like I’d been in a noiseless bubble that had suddenly burst. There were people hollering, loud chatter from those in line to get in, and the beeps from the cameras that were flashing frequently as they took photo after photo. I’d never been to an event like this one, which did nothing to calm the anxiety that slid with me out of the car.

  Once my heels were firmly planted on the sidewalk and I’d thanked Joe, I searched again for Elias. He should’ve been easy to spot, but considering I was surrounded by a sea of men in black suits, my search for him was difficult.

  But then, suddenly, he was there. The throng of people in front of me separated enough to allow his body to fill their void, and he was walking straight to me.

  All the clothes I’d seen Elias in before erred on the side of business casual, so seeing him in a tux was surprising. His hair was slicked back, and his beard was very neatly trimmed. It was strange, looking at him like he was a completely different person. But when he was directly in front of me, giving me a wicked smile, heat burned in my belly all the same.

  “You clean up nice,” I told him and cocked my head to the side to admire him more fully. All the black covered up the ink that covered his arms and upper chest, and already I couldn’t wait to see his body again, under the expensive threads.

  “You…” he shook his head as his eyes glided down my body and then up again, taking all the time in the world to admire me. “Exquisite.” His eyes echoed the heat that lay low in my belly as he took my hand in his and gently pulled me to him. He leaned down and put his lips near my ear so I could hear him above the noise. “Ready for this?”

  Nodding, I turned my face and kissed him where his beard started so as not to leave lipstick on his face. With my lips at his ear, I told him, “I’m ready for the after.”

  When I pulled back, the look in his eyes was enough to make me nearly ask if he was up for blowing off the party altogether.

  Chapter Ten

  Ruby tucked her hand into the crook of my arm as we bypassed the main entrance into the hotel, choosing a smaller door to the right of the press line to avoid the cameras. Her red dress was too perfect, everything about her tonight too stunning for her to not draw notice from a nosy photographer who might want to know who she was.

  Especially since my name was on the book we were celebrating. She didn’t know that yet, of course. Not even my parents did. I gave my name to a sharply dressed woman holding a clipboard and she checked it off and was on to the next.

  The massive hallway decorated in rich colors and gold crown molding along the stamped iron ceiling felt old, a strange contradiction to the black and white photos from the book that were blown up and evenly spaced along the walls.

  “Whoever decided on this location should be shot,” I said under my breath.

  “Does it offend your sensibilities?” Ruby asked in a teasing voice, tightening her hold on my arm.

  I shook my head, staring at the shot that I had taken of an old wrinkled man smiling over his cart of vegetables. He was missing most of his teeth, and his eyes all but disappeared into the lined skin because of the wideness of his expression.

  “On its own, no.” I gestured to the picture. “But these get lost among the decadence. They should be the showcase, not add to the busyness. You can’t even appreciate this because your eye is drawn to so many other places.”

  Ruby watched me and I felt a flush on my face.

  “What?” I said after her curious look got to me.

  “Nothing. Just thinking about how I’d like to see the world through your eyes, just for a day. You must think visually all the time.”

  We kept walking, pausing every so often to look at another shot. A blank-faced server carrying a tray of champagne stopped us just as we turned the corner into the ballroom, and when Ruby smiled, I took two flutes.

  She sipped on hers, looking around the room with wide eyes. With the makeup she was wearing, which was different than anything I’d seen on her, she looked so polished and so beautiful. Almost as decadent as the room itself. And I was the one who would get to gorge myself on her when the night was done.

  “Oh, look at that one,” she said, turning to another photo against the far wall. I followed her, smiling when I realized that it was one of mine.

  The two women, one much older, leaned up against each other on a weathered bench. One was laughing, clutching the wide gold hoops that adorned her neck while the other smiled down into her lap. Their clothes were dirty and tattered against their dark skin, despite the gold jewelry they held in their hands.

  “What do you think?” I asked her.

  She was staring at the picture with such a rapt expression that I felt a rush of pride. I’d been in Myanmar for two weeks before capturing that shot, and every day leading up to it had been spent getting to know the families in the village.

  “They look so happy.”

  “You see those gold hoops around their necks?”

  “Mmhmm, they’re beautiful.” She glanced at me. “They look a little out of place though.”

  “That’s how they survive. They make jewelry; those are customary for that area, and these women sell it at a local market because the husband of the older woman died. He provided all the income, so they had to figure out a way to feed their children.”

  “You took this?”

  I nodded, watching her carefully. People milled around us, but no one was paying us any attention. It felt like a private moment, despite the grandeur of the room. She smiled at me, her eyes honest and direct.

  “You like it?”

  “It’s amazing, Elias.”

  “Thank you,” I said gruffly, feeling a touch overwhelmed by her simple praise. “Let’s go find our table.”

  Ruby gave one last look at the photo before holding on to the arm that I offered her. “Will you show me more after we eat?”

  I smiled. “Of course.”

  Randall and Sarai were seated next to us, and they were as besotted by Ruby as they had been the first night. As was the rest of our table. She asked questions and listened with intent when anyone answered her. The interest that she showed in the book and the publishing house was so well-received that she got a job offer within the first hour from someone in the marketing department.

  She laughed, leaning into me where I had an arm around the back of her chair. “That’s so kind. I’ll let you know if I send my resume over.”

  When I slid a hand up her back and rested it on her shoulder, she gave me a tiny wink.

  “Did you like your dinner?” I whispered into her ear.

  “The chicken was a bit underwhelming. Do you think we’ll get dessert too?”

  I dropped my chin, laying a kiss underneath her ear and taking a deep inhale of her scent. It was light and clean, not overwhelming, but potent all the same. “I think you and I will get dessert later.”

  “Ruby,” Sarai said from the other side of me. “You never told us what you do.”

  The table quieted, all eyes on my luminous date. “I’m a perpetual student, I’m afraid. Every time I finish one degree, I find that I haven’t quite satisfied my thirst for knowledge. Nothing too exciting there.”

  “Nonsense,” the sixty-plus year old woman across the table said with a kind smile. “What do you study, dear?”

  Ruby took another small sip of champagne before she answered. “Well, right now I’m finishing up my first year of a master’s in theological studies. Before that it was a master’s in sociology.”

  “Goodness,” the woman laughed. “That sounds awfully exciting to me.”

  With a slightly embarrassed smile at all the attention on her, Ruby looked at me. “What can I say? People fascinate me.”

  Everyone laughed and Ruby blushed just enough that only I could see it.
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br />   “And your family? Do they live here too?”

  There was a slight tightening around her mouth, a cooling of her eyes when she smiled again. “No, home was Pennsylvania.”

  It was a strange feeling, to know that she wasn’t lying, but that there was a definite emotional line that she wasn’t willing to cross with that subject. Ruby had been forthright with me in almost every area, but it was apparent to me that her family, her background, was a soft spot.

  Join the fucking club.

  “Dance with me?” I asked her, standing and holding out my hand. She gave me a relieved smile, gripping my fingers and letting me help her up.

  Randall and Sarai stood after we passed the table, taking our lead toward the dance floor.

  “Thank you,” Ruby said under her breath when I pulled her into my arms.

  “The spotlight can be bright sometimes.” I laid a hand on her lower back, taking a deep breath when her hand smoothed up my chest and settled over my heart.

  “I don’t mind the spotlight,” she said as we swayed together to the soft strains of music.

  Her heels brought her tall enough that it would take barely anything for me to dip down and kiss her. I still didn’t know what her mouth tasted like, and when I pulled my head back to search her face, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the red-painted curves of her lips.

  I decided to let her statement stand, even though I knew she didn’t want the questions. Tucking her closer into my chest, I felt my skin close up around my bones when she made a subtle rocking with her hips, bringing us even tighter against each other. I was completely at war with myself, feeling her against me like that. On one hand, I wanted to rush, wanted to have her in a bed immediately. But on the other hand, I wanted to draw this night out. Enjoy her, enjoy the things that I knew we could do to each other.

  “Are you teasing me again?”