Attraction

by Linn Young

  “Buy me a drink,” she ordered imperiously, trailing the cattail over his cheek and jaw. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, that was an order.”

  Jack smiled hugely. “Yes, Mam. Whatever you say, Mam. What would you like?”

  “A triple Grand Marnier.”

  Without hesitation, Jack gestured to one of the bartenders and gave the drink order. “Make that two.”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed a little as she noted that he didn’t even flinch at the expensive order. She looked over both men, noting their expensive clothes and the air of ease and assurance that only came with money. Her eyes lingered on Heron. “You’re not from around these parts.”

  “We’re from the city,” Jack said.

  “So, you decided to come up and slum it, have you? How are you finding our humble playground?”

  Jack glanced back at Heron, and then flashed a smile. “We’re liking it just fine, Mam.”

  She flicked her eyes at Heron, whose face was expressionless, his eyes cold as they watched with detachment people around him. It was obvious he had little interest in where he was. “I’m not quite sure that’s true for your friend there. He looks like this is the last playground he wants to be in.”

  Jack shifted to block her view of his friend. “I would suggest that you forget about him. He’s a lost cause and me, I’m a sure bet.” He handed her one of the two snifters of the triple Grand Marnier.

  The dominatrix quickly sized up her odds. She knew that taller man with the dark aloof eyes was way out of her class. But the air arrogance and supreme self-assurance that seemed more innate than effected told her that he was quite rich, very well educated, cultured, high bred, and sophisticated. And his striking good looks, the thick black hair, lean, broad shouldered torso, and his long, long legs clad in faded jeans sure made her want to try her hand at him. But the icy indifference in his eyes was an indication that he could prove to be quite a tough nut to crack. On the other hand, his friend was attractive in his own way with his black curly locks, and was obviously rich himself, and his friendly smile and easy manners indicated that he was much more willing. Widening her smile invitingly at Jack, she leaned closer to him, fluttering her long, fake eyelashes at him.

  “Perhaps your friend, over there, would like to join us,” she asked, sipping her drink, her eyes avidly running over Heron beneath lowered lids.

  Jack turned and glanced back at Heron, who wore a bored expression and seemed unaware of them. “I’m not too sure he’s into the games you have in mind, Mam.”

  “Doesn’t he like women?”

  “Yeah, he does. It’s just women like him too much.”

  “Hmmm, I can see why.”

  Jack turned back to the dominatrix. “I’m much easier to handle. Believe me.”

  She shrugged and decided to take his advice. She tilted her head and her smile widened as she gave him a look of open invitation.

  Riley made her way downstairs, after aiding in the negotiations of a delicate transaction between a local councilman and a high profile banker to play out a fantasy of a mother nursing a child. Since Friday night was one of their busiest nights of the week, she dressed the part of a hostess of a sex club. She wore an aqua green corset that had a g-string, cut high at the hips so that the cut was almost to her waist sides. Her buttocks and legs were left bare, emphasizing the buttocks’ rounded fullness and glossy, slightly golden dusky color. The bodice was boned, strapped, and pushed up her breasts high and so scanty that her nipples were barely protected from exposure. The corset laced tightly down the back with red silk cord with a tassels at the ends, and was tied in a bow at the bottom edge of the corset so that the tassels flicked and rolled at the beginning swell of her buttocks.

  She paused at one end of the bar, which was the station for the cocktail waitresses and waiters to place and pickup their orders. She watched the two bartenders who were assigned to fill the orders at the station crowd around one another and the five waitresses and three waiters squeezing in and out of each other. Riley ruefully conceded that to the inexperienced it looked as if her employees were quite inept, running and bumping into one another. But somehow, numerous orders were shouted over the counter, the bartenders managed to make them all correctly, and the waiters and waitresses managed to pick up their correct orders. It was a very profitable night for all employees. The lowest tips earned would be no less than one hundred fifty dollars that night.

  Joe caught her eye and walked over to her. His face was red and the hair over his forehead was matted with sweat.

  “Looks like I’m working you too hard, again, Joe” Riley mused.

  Joe smiled broadly. “Not according to my tip bucket.”

  “Need anything from the storage?”

  “I just had the busboys go out there for some ice and some bottles. –Uh, I thought you might like to know that you’re brother-in-law’s here.”

  “Tanner’s here? Where is he? Is my sister with him? He better be if he wants to live.” Riley quickly scanned around the lounge.

  “No. Not him. The other one. The one your sister didn’t marry.”

  “The other one…?” Riley said with confusion, then went still, shocked. “Oh.”

  Joe flicked his head down the bar. “He’s sitting down there, at the other end. I think he brought a friend.”

  Riley scanned the faces of the people who were crowding around the bar. “Thanks, Joe.” She slowly made her way to the other end. Then she saw him, talking to a man with curly black hair sitting next to him. She hung back and watched the two. She didn’t really want to go over to Heron and try to make niceties, but she knew it was ridiculous not to since they were in-laws.

  At least his friend seemed much more approachable, she thought, noting how easily he smiled and laughed. And as Riley had witnessed him to be when he was with Tanner, in the other man’s company, Heron seemed more relaxed, not as cold and removed.

  Before Riley could turn away, Heron lifted his eyes and met hers. For a moment, dark eyes locked with pale gray hazel ones, and a frisson of acute awareness sizzled between them, an awareness that had not been there before. Her eyes turned a little wary, uneasy at this new sensation. She saw one corner of his sensually-shaped mouth turn up slightly. He didn’t seemed fazed as she was by this unexpected pull between them. In fact, he seemed to be mocking it, and her, and himself.

  Riley was the first to break off the contact when she turned to one of the waitresses who handed her a tab for her signature. From his barstool, Heron continued to watch her. When she turned away from him, the line of his lips turned grim as he saw her bare buttocks rippling with each movement. He was also in full view of her large breasts that were turned in profile towards him, their rounded fullness barely confined in the corset. His eyes hardened when he saw her full lips split into a smile as she laughed at something the waitress said.

  “Ah, could it be that one of these fascinating creatures has managed to catch the eye of our elusive Mr. Wait,” Jack said. He looked in the direction of his friend’s eyes. “Yes, I can see why you might be a bit smitten.” The dominatrix in a fit of capriciousness had abandoned him to be with some of her friends.

  “That’s Roberta’s sister, the one who was responsible for breaking up my engagement,” Heron interjected coldly. “She’s the owner of this place.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows as he took in Riley. “That’s Roberta’s sister? She’s doesn’t seem a bit like her sister.”

  “You’re damn right on that. She has none of the qualities that her sister has. Roberta would never involve herself in anything sordid as this place. But, then, what do you expect from a woman who runs an establishment such as this, taking advantage of strangers’ aberrant fantasies. She’s no better than a brothel madam.”

  Jack looked at him, surprised at the bitter hardness in Heron’s voice. “Look, this place may be a bit unusual, but it’s nothing like…”

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” Riley greeted with a good meas
ure of hospitable warmth.

  Jack looked a little uncomfortable, his eyes glancing quickly at Heron. Heron’s own eyes were shuttered, his face impassive. Riley knew they had been discussing her.

  “Hello, Heron,” she said softly, folding her arms under her breasts, facing him completely. She masked her uneasiness under a polite, casual demeanor.

  Taking his time, he lifted his eyes to her face. “Riley.”

  Riley noted how suddenly easy it was for them to be on first-name basis in the aftermath of Heron’s disastrous engagement with her sister. Before, it took great effort on both their parts to drop formal address to one another.

  Riley tipped her head back and said with deliberate mockery, “You know, you’re the last person I would expect to see here.”

  Jack raised a finger. “Uh, that would be my fault. I dragged him up here against his will, I’m afraid.” He offered his hand to her. “I’m Jack Knowles, by the way, once of Heron’s friend.”

  Riley shook his hand, the coolness gone from her face as she smiled with warmth and humor. “Riley Calderon, owner of this house of ill repute.”

  “I’m becoming a fast fan of it, though,” Jack said. “And may I say, you look quite stunning, Ms. Calderon.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Knowles. And, may I say, you cut quite a picture yourself. I hope you are enjoying yourself. If there is anything you need, please let me know.”

  Jack grinned, already feeling at ease with her. “Please, call me Jack. I’ve a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”

  “Okay, Jack. Then you must call me Riley. Was there anything special you would like to see?”

  Jack’s eyes lit up. “I’ve heard about the room that they call the tool room. That has a very intriguing sound to it.”

  “Would you like a private tour, Jack?”

  He was about to say yes, when he spotted the redheaded dominatrix making her way back to him. “Maybe another night. Right now, I’m in the middle of something. At least, I’m hoping to be.”

  Riley looked back and saw the dominatrix, who had stopped to greet some acquaintances. She guessed that the redhead was being coy with Jack, taking her time, making up her mind whether or not she wanted more from him.

  “That’s Kelly O’Hearn. She’s called Madam O’Hearn. I do have to tell you, she likes to play rough.”

  Jack’s eyes turned a little wary, but also excited. “How rough? Like ending up in the emergency room?”

  “No. Maybe not to that extent. But just be prepared to explain some marks on your back and shoulder if you ever take off your shirt in front of your fellow men in the locker room or in front of another woman.”

  Kelly O’Hearn made her way over to them. She stopped when she saw Riley and, for a moment, her eyes narrowed, instantly suspicious that she might have some competition. “Riley, you usually don’t take personal interest in your patrons.”

  Jack pulled the dominatrix to him. “I’m all yours, honey.”

  Kelly gave Riley a smug look. Then she caught the expression on Jack’s friend’ face and the way he was looking at the other woman beneath heavily hooded lids. The look in his dark eyes made her shiver because it was heated and intense, almost avarice, and yet, there was nothing lover like in his expression. Kelly felt a stab of resentment and regret all over again. Although she knew she never had a chance with the dark eyed man with the face and body that drew women to him like magnets, she didn’t like the idea that another woman was going have the boon that she never could.

  Then, shrugging off her moment of discontent, Kelly turned and smiled up at Jack, her smile telling of promises of pleasure and punishment. “You should be warned that I’m a very demanding mistress. I expect your complete and undivided attention. Nothing less will do for me.”

  Jack kissed her on the cheek. “I understand. I promise, I will be a faithful servant.” He plucked from her fingers her glass and signaled to a bartender. “Now, let me order you a fresh drink.”

  Amused at Kelly’s little display of petty jealousy, Riley turned her eyes to Heron. His eyes were shuttered again. With a some shock, she realized that he was running them over her, not in the way he had when they had first met, or when he had pulled her out of her jail. Then, he had looked at her with such cold contempt and condemnation. This time, she saw the heat in Heron’s eyes, the heat of a man who was satisfying his sexual interest visually.

  With reluctance and with some consternation, she felt an answering pull in her loins. CHAPTER SEVEN

  Refusing to be intimidated, she lifted a mocking eyebrow. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you it was rude to stare?”

  A bartender set a fresh glass of scotch in front of Heron. He picked it up and sipped at it. He had yet to answer Riley’s question. And it seemed he wasn’t planning to Instead, this time with deliberate insolence, he continued to run his eyes slowly over her body. As he had not let himself that time he had pulled her out of jail, he now let his eyes rest on her large breasts that were protruding so openly, barely contained by the corset, lingering on the full globes, openly licking them with his eyes.

  Riley knew that he was treating her as he would a whore. She could see in the depths of his eyes that he was imagining his hands on her breasts, kneading and caressing them, fondling them roughly then gently rotating them. Her body jerked as the heat rose inside her, but her face stiffened coldly in an open rejection of his silent liberties.

  They both knew that it was completely inappropriate that Heron was treating Riley with such licentious disrespect. Had he married Roberta, she knew he would never have treated her to anything but cool politeness. He would have kept the barrier standing between them had he become her brother-in-law, the barrier that would have prevented any hint of sexual possibilities between them.

  But, now, gone was any reason for maintaining a façade of familial tolerance and respectful distance between Heron and Riley. Roberta had not married him but had married his brother. Niceties were no longer required in any encounter between Heron and Riley outside of family surrounding.

  Riley stood rooted where she was, staring at Heron, feeling stunned, as she slowly comprehended the strong sexual attraction that she was feeling for him. And she disliked it very much. The last man she ever wanted to be attracted to was Heron Wait. He was arrogant, cold, quite autocratic, with an air of superiority. And he was such a hypocrite, she thought, openly displaying his lust for her after all the grief he had given her about her sex club.

  Heron flagged one of the bartenders. “A scotch for the lady,” he ordered for her without asking.

  “Maybe the lady doesn’t want a drink from you, Mr. Wait,” Riley said icily.

  He turned back to her and gave her a patient look. Jack lifted his head from kissing the dominatrix and also watched her, waiting.

  Heron said coolly, “As the owner of this establishment, I would think you would know better than to turn down an offer from a paying customer.” He gestured to the bartender again for the drink.

  But the bartender looked to Riley. She gave a small humorless smile towards Heron and gave the bartender a slight nod.

  Heron said, “I’m buying you drink as a congratulation.”

  “I didn’t win anything.”

  “Oh, didn’t you? You mean you don’t consider your success in breaking your sister’s engagement to me anything worth celebrating?”

  “It was never my intention to break up the engagement.”

  “It wasn’t? Nevertheless, you didn’t want it, and whether or not you had any hand in it, the fact that your sister broke off the engagement to me is a success for you.”

  The icy smile returned to Riley’s lips. “I would accept success graciously if I didn’t have serious reservations about accepting any secession of triumph from you, Mr. Wait. You see, in such cases, there has be a loser if there is to be a winner. And I’ve a suspicion that you would be a very sore loser. So, no thanks, I’ll just forgo any triumph if there is any to be had.”

  Heron paus
ed for a moment, sipping his scotch. “Go right ahead, then, and discard your conquest. But, you’re wrong, Ms. Calderon, triumph or no triumph, there’s still is a loser in this round.”

  “You mean you’re determined to be that loser,” Riley returned evenly

  “I don’t think any man would blame me for grasping for the position of a victim, as lowering as it might be.” He tilted his head to the side to look at Jack who was sitting behind Riley. “Now, isn’t that right, Jack?”

  Jack, put up both of his hands as he shook his head slowly. “Hey, man, don’t get me involved in this.”

  The redheaded dominatrix, who was sulking at Jack’s side, not at all used to men losing their interest in her, walked away again, vengefully bent on finding another and more promising conquest. But Jack did not notice her absence and had already forgotten her several minutes ago. He was so caught up by the interchange between his friend and the bar’s proprietor. In all the years of their friendship with Heron he had never seen him be embroiled in battle of wills with anyone. Heron, the cool, calm, collected lawyer, who with his rapier intellect and steely self control had always the upper hand, and had never let another engage him in a heated battle, especially in one that made him vulnerable to his own ego.

  Jack wasn’t the only one who was watching Riley and Heron. They seemed to have attracted the attention of the small crowd around them, the look in all of their eyes similar; rapt, breathless, caught by the war of words that had the same effect of if there had been a real sword fight between the two very strong and worthy antagonists. But Heron and Riley seemed perfectly unaware of the attention that they were drawing, so focused on each other, each on the look out for any signs of weakness from the other, an opportunity for a deep thrust.

  Heron gave a deadly smile and said to Riley, “You’re right, I am a very sore loser. And I intend to have my pound of flesh. And it just might be your flesh.”