by Emma Lea
“Oh no,” Jennifer said with a mean smile. “That’s what we pay the nanny for.”
“Little Miranda has a birthday party coming up,” Courtney said. “Maybe we should hire you.”
“You couldn’t afford me,” Brandi mumbled.
“Pardon?” Courtney said, leaning forward.
Brandi smiled insincerely. “I said I will have my assistant forward you my business details.” And if Courtney tried to book her for a party she would, unfortunately, be too busy. There was no way she was going to put herself in a position where these three ‘friends’ could make fun of her.
She loved her job. She got a lot of enjoyment out of making little kids smile and she loved the work she did at the children’s hospital. What she didn’t understand was why women like these felt so threatened by her. Threatened enough to feel it necessary to put her down every chance they got. Lucky she had thick skin or she would be a basket case.
Declan strode into the conference room and looked around. It was a typical school reunion, ten years, if the balloons were to be believed. He hadn’t gone to his. He’d been in Dubai or some other exotic locale setting up one of his resorts. He didn’t need to prove anything to the people he went to school with, which was really the only reason to attend a school reunion, wasn’t it? So you could rub it in the faces of the people who thought you’d amount to nothing. Well fuck that shit. He didn’t need their validation to see himself as successful.
He caught sight of a blonde head seated at a table and headed in that direction. He was sure it was the same woman he’d seen out in the lobby. The question was, how would he lure her away from her friends?
“It’s such a shame we’re not going to meet your fiancé,” one of the other women said. “What was his name again?”
“I didn’t—”
“You said he works in finance? Maybe he knows my David?”
“No, actually he—”
“Do you think he will be available to attend the children’s hospital benefit that’s coming up?” another one said.
Declan didn’t always understand women. He loved women, all sorts of women, but he didn’t always understand them. Not outside the bedroom anyway. But it was quite clear that these women were attacking the blonde with their veiled niceties and not-so-subtle digs at her being at the reunion alone. Without really thinking through the consequences, Declan strode towards the table, his panty-melting smile in place.
“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” he said as he leaned down and nuzzled the neck of the blonde. She smelled fantastic, by the way. “You know how work can be sometimes.”
She stiffened and the other women at the table fell silent as all eyes turned to him. The blonde looked up at him, her eyes slightly narrowed and he thought for sure she was going to give him away.
“I thought you said you couldn’t get away?” she said instead and he let out a breath.
“After we spoke on the phone I realised what an arse I was being, so I came straight away.”
“This is your fiancé?” a dark haired woman asked. Her lips had that distinct fish-mouth look that is the result of too many fillers and her brow remained perfectly smooth although he could see she was trying to frown.
“Hi,” he said reaching across the table to shake her hand. “Declan Mayfield.” He shook the hands of the other women at the table, keeping one hand on the shoulder of the blonde. He didn’t want her to run away before he had a chance to introduce himself properly.
“Mayfield?” one of the other women asked, a blonde one. Although the blonde hair wasn’t nearly as stunning as the blonde hair that brushed his hand where it sat on the mystery woman’s shoulder. “As in…”
“That’s right. The Mayfield is mine.” He shot them all another panty-melting grin and then turned his attention to the reason why he was in here in the first place. “Come and dance with me baby.” He murmured in her ear.
He liked the way a shiver travelled along her spine and she looked up at him, her blue gaze assessing. She could still call his bluff, but he didn’t think she would.
“I’m still mad at you,” she said as she stood.
She was tall and in those sky-scraper heels they were at eye level. He liked that. He liked that a lot.
“Come on now baby,” he said softly, sweeping a stray strand of hair over her shoulder, his fingertips gliding over the golden tanned skin. “You know you can never stay mad at me for long.”
“I’ll dance with you,” she said, “but I would still like an explanation.”
“Of course,” he said, leaning in to brush a sweet kiss on her cheek.
He took her hand and led her to the small dance floor where a few drunk couples stood swaying to the cheesy eighties music. Declan pulled her into his arms and she came willingly. Her body moulded perfectly against his, all the important bits lining up, and he thanked the makers of high-heels everywhere.
“Is your name really Declan Mayfield?” she asked as he moved with her to the music.
“It is,” he said, “and I really am the owner of this hotel.”
“You own The Mayfield Group?”
“I am The Mayfield Group,” he replied with a grin.
“Why did you do that? Why did you pretend to be my fiancé?”
He shrugged. “I heard you on the phone. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.”
“I didn’t need rescuing.”
He shrugged again. “Maybe not, but I heard those women. They were going easy on you, but if you hadn’t given them answers soon, the claws would have come out.”
She sighed and he shifted his arms to hold her closer.
“Can I ask you a question?” he said.
She looked up at him and bit the corner of her lip. The big, blue eyes, the plump lip caught between her teeth…he had to hold back a groan as his cock twitched. “What’s your question?”
“What’s your name?”
Her eyes widened and she laughed - giggled was probably a more descriptive word to ascribe to the sound that came out of her mouth. He wanted to hear it again.
“You did all of this just to get my name?”
He grinned at her. “Not just to get your name, but we can start there.”
“How do I know you are who you say you are Mr. Mayfield? You could be some random stranger for all I know.”
“It’s an easy enough thing to prove. Come upstairs with me and you can see that my mother makes me write my name in all my underwear.”
She giggled again and her eyes lit up with mischief. “I didn’t realise labelling your underwear was an acceptable form of identification. I’ll have to remember that next time I renew my passport.”
“So, you have your name written on your panties? Maybe we should go upstairs so you can prove to me who you are.”
She leant closer to him and whispered in his ear. “I’m not wearing any panties.”
He groaned and pressed his burgeoning erection into the juncture of her thighs. “Now you’re just teasing me,” he said, his voice rough.
“Thank you for the rescue,” she said, stepping away from him. “You can go back to work now.”
She turned and walked away, back to her seat, and he was sure she wiggled her arse just a little bit more than was necessary. He couldn’t let her go that easily. He still didn’t know her name.
“Where’s your delicious fiancé?” Jennifer asked.
Brandi took her seat and resisted the urge to fan herself. She could still feel the thickness of his arousal against her and it was making her uncomfortably damp. “He had to go back to work. He just stopped in to apologise to me for standing me up.”
“Is he really a Mayfield?” Courtney asked.
“Sure,” Brandi replied. “He owns The Mayfield Group.”
“No, I mean, is he really a Mayfield? You know as in Mayfield Savings and Loan? The oldest finance company in Australia?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s the youngest son,” Lisa said looking at the sc
reen of her phone.
“Did you just Google my fiancé?” Brandi asked.
Lisa shrugged. “Of course I did.” She turned the phone around to show Brandi a picture of Declan. He was standing in front of a huge office window that looked out over what she thought might be some small European country - there were snow-capped mountains in the distance, so definitely not Australia. He had that half grin on his face as he tugged at a cuff of his suit and he leaned against a large wooden desk.
“It says here,” Courtney said, reading from her phone, “That he started The Mayfield Group with a loan from his parents’ bank but then repaid the loan, including interest, within five years.”
“With the help of his trust fund, no doubt,” Jennifer sneered.
“Not according to Wikipedia.”
“He has his own Wikipedia page?” Brandi asked, reaching for her glass and taking a large swallow.
“He’s one of the youngest billionaires in Australia, of course he has his own Wikipedia page. So does his family.”
Brandi was no stranger to wealth. Her own family could be counted in the richest families in Australia, but they were ‘new’ money. Her grandfather had made it big in computing, before computers were a household item. Her dad now ran Sabre Management Systems and she worked for him part-time, just to keep her hand in. But they had never really been accepted by the established families like the Mayfields, as was evidenced by the women surrounding her at the table. They were all from ‘old money’ families and had married into other ‘old money’ families. Her father might be able to buy and sell them but because his fortune was only made in the last fifty years, they were still considered outsiders.
“Now, now ladies,” Declan said, his voice flowing over her like a silk sheet and making her think of dirty, dirty things. “Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
He pulled out the chair beside her and sat. His cologne wafted over her and she subtly inhaled the citrusy scent knowing that it would be her favourite smell from now on.
“I thought you had to go back to work,” she said, turning to him and accepting the drink he handed her.
“No need,” he replied with a grin. “I checked in with Janine at the front desk and if there’s a crisis, she knows where to find me.” He turned back to the other women. “And where are your delightful husbands? Don’t tell me they stood you up?”
“They’re sitting at the bar,” Courtney said indicating with a wave of her hand the three men sitting with their backs to the rest of the conference room.
“Brandi was just telling us that you own The Mayfield Group,” Jennifer said and Declan turned to Brandi, his eyes wide and a mischievous grin on his lips. So much for keeping her name a secret. “Haven’t you just opened your first resort on Le Beau?”
Brandi frowned. What the hell was Le Beau?
Declan smiled easily as he relaxed back in his chair. He slung an arm across the back of hers casually as he answered Jennifer. “That’s correct. It’s my first casino though, not my first resort.”
“Where’s Le Beau?” Courtney asked and Brandi was glad there was someone else in the group who had never heard of the place.
“It’s a small island in the Balearic Sea,” Declan replied, “off the south coast of France.”
“You have a casino on a French island?” Lisa asked, leaning forward.
“Technically the island belongs to Merveille,” he said. The others nodded knowingly, but Brandi was still in the dark. She knew where France was but had never heard of Merveille. “Have you ever been?”
The women shook their heads.
“We vacationed in the south of France once,” Jennifer said, “but didn’t get to Le Beau.”
Brandi shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Declan had moved closer to her and the heat radiating off his body was making her flush. It had absolutely nothing to do with her girlie bits wanting some attention from him. His hand had somehow found its way to her opposite shoulder and he was circling the bare skin there with the tip of his finger. It was driving her to distraction.
“I think I need some air,” Brandi said, standing abruptly. If she didn’t move she was worried she was going to climb into his lap and rub herself up against him. She had no idea why she was so horny. Being near Justin had never had that effect on her.
“I’ll come with you,” Declan said, standing to his feet and smiling at her, wickedness in his eyes.
Oh God, the man was going to kill her with his smiles and his glances that practically set her on fire.
She smiled at her friends and walked away from the table, heading for the balcony off the side of the conference room. She could feel him behind her, his eyes caressing her. She stepped out onto the balcony and his hands were immediately on her waist. She turned to him, to protest, but the words died on her lips as he lowered his head and kissed her. Oh God. Her skin burned and her stomach clenched as he slid his lips across hers. He nipped her lip and she opened for him. His tongue swooped in and she felt her eyes roll into the back of her head as the taste of him overwhelmed her senses.
“What do you say we get out of here,” he murmured against her lips.
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” she said before taking the initiative and kissing him.
“You know what they say about getting over a breakup?” he said as he trailed kisses down her neck.
“No. What do they say?” she asked breathlessly.
“The best way to get over a man is to get another one under you.”
She groaned as he pulled her tight against him. She could feel the hardness of his cock and it only made the dampness between her thighs wetter.
“I don’t even know you,” she said as she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth to hers for another kiss.
“I know the perfect way for you to get to know me a whole lot better,” he whispered in her ear before sucking her earlobe into his mouth.
“Where do you live?” she asked as his tongue lapped at the sensitive part of her neck below her ear.
“My place is too far,” he said, “but I have a room upstairs.”
“Let’s go,” she said before she changed her mind. She was just drunk enough and just angry enough at Justin to want to do something crazy. Sleeping with Declan Mayfield seemed like the perfect revenge on her cheating arsehole of an ex.
2
There hadn’t been a lot of talking in the elevator as it rose, taking them to the suite that he had reserved for himself. His friends were probably wondering what happened to him, but with Brandi in his arms, he couldn’t think beyond getting her naked and sinking into her. She was perfection.
He managed to get them into the room without embarrassing himself, but if they didn’t get naked soon he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. The woman had him so turned on that he could barely control himself. Declan liked to think he was cool, calm and collected. He never took things too seriously and didn’t see the point of getting all hot and bothered over situations he couldn’t change. He supposed it was the curse of being the youngest - or a blessing perhaps. His siblings always accused him of having an easy ride, that by the time his parents had raised him, they had used up all their discipline. In their eyes, Declan had gotten away with murder.
Whatever. Declan liked his life just fine. He knew the day was coming when he would have to start acting like a grown-up, but that day wasn’t today. He would face that when it came and in the meantime, he intended to have as much fun as he could along the way. And for tonight, that fun included the blonde in his arms.
He couldn’t seem to stop kissing her. She tasted like the wine she’d been drinking at dinner and something else… something sweet. It was intoxicating. She was tall enough that he didn’t have to stoop and when he pressed her against the closed door all the important bits lined up nicely. He pressed his throbbing erection into the cradle of her thighs and let his eyes roll back with the pleasure of it.
Her hands
were at his suit coat, pushing it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the ground as she then began working on his tie. His hand found the hem of her dress. It was already inching up her lovely long legs, so he helped it along, pushing it up over her hips. She hadn’t been lying to him. She wasn’t wearing any panties.
He groaned as his hands smoothed over the silky flesh of her naked arse. It was pert and round and fit perfectly into his two hands. What could he say? He was an arse man. He liked a woman with a gorgeous behind, it was nothing to be ashamed of.
She’d gotten his tie off and his buttons undone. Her hands found his naked chest and she dug her fingers into his flesh and dragged them down his body, her nails weren’t long, but they were long enough that he could feel their sharp sting that went straight to his cock. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard or this desperate.
He dropped to his knees and buried his face between her legs. Her pussy was bare except for a cute little love-heart shape at the top of her slit. She was wet, her folds swollen and pink and begging him to touch them. He ran his nose along the crease of her thigh and her hands burrowed into his hair. He opened his mouth on her, the taste of her exploding across his tongue. She rocked her hips against his face as she moaned and he felt like a fucking rock star. His hands gripped her arse as he feasted on her. Was there any better place to be than between a woman’s thighs? He didn’t think so, although his cock reminded him that maybe it had a few ideas.
She cried out as he lapped at her clit and he felt her thighs shake. Oh God. She was so fucking responsive. He wanted inside her, but first he wanted her to come on his tongue. He wanted to hear her scream his name as she flooded his mouth. He glided his hands around the soft skin of her thighs and used his thumbs to hold open her folds. His tongue delved deep, rimming her entrance before licking up to worry her clit again. He could feel the way she thrashed against the door and the desperate rocking of her hips against his mouth as she chased her orgasm. It made him all the more desperate to get inside her. There was nothing sexier than a woman who wasn’t afraid to let go during sex. It was like a drug to him and he could easily become addicted to Brandi.
