My Double Life: Wild and Wicked

by Joanne Rock

  As we headed out of downtown and toward the Pacific Palisades, I languished against the leather seat while Trey skimmed a hand beneath the first layer of my veils. Exploring.

  My skin tightened at his touch, my body so ready for his.

  Beneath the layers I wore the scantiest undergarments imaginable. The scrap of lace masquerading as a bra was already abrading my skin where my breasts had perked up with interest at his touch.

  “How’s your stamina?” He lifted his head, all business sounding even though his eyelids were heavy with arousal. His voice rough with desire.

  “Pretty good since I started dancing regularly.” I couldn’t resist touching him. Car rides in Los Angeles could be long. “How about you?”

  “I’ll be honest with you. I’m on a mission.” He gripped my wrist in a light hold, preventing me from traveling too far up his thigh.

  “And what might that be?” I didn’t mind being restrained by this man. Not even one little bit. In fact, I could picture some scenarios where being pinned beneath his powerful body would turn me inside out.

  It’s scary how much I trusted him, but I really liked how he treated me.

  “I’m not sure if I should reveal my ultimate plan.” He arched an eyebrow, teasing me.

  “Does it involve lots of sex?” I asked, unable to help myself.

  “It does.”

  I squirmed in my seat.

  “Tell me,” I urged him, my thigh brushing his. “Please.”

  He rubbed his thumb lightly over my wrist where he still held me. Was it my imagination or did my pulse beat faster just because he stroked that vein with a slow, deliberate touch?

  “I’m going to make you sexually dependent,” he finally revealed. “On me.”

  I knew he was joking, but it still sent a thrill straight to my toes. Actually, it went straight to other places first.

  “I had no idea such a thing was possible.” My throat went dry from this conversation.

  My thighs...that was another story.

  I shifted positions, wanting contact with Trey.

  He released my wrist to wrap his arms around me. One around my waist and the other under my knees. He pulled me up on his lap and I lounged crossways there, one breast nestled against the hard plane of his chest. He felt hard everywhere, in fact. My breath was in short supply.

  “I assure you, it’s very possible.” He skimmed one hand up my waist to cup my breast. There, he repeated the same idle stroke with his thumb that he’d done on my wrist a minute ago.

  It felt even more potent.

  A moan escaped, but before I had the chance to think about it, Trey kissed me. He was slow, methodical, thorough. By the time he stopped, I realized the car had stopped too. I could hardly see straight and wondered how I’d ever get out of the car to have dinner.

  “So while you’re making me sexually dependent on you, how do you make sure you don’t...” How to word this? “How do you make sure you don’t become sexually dependent on me in the process?”

  It was a ridiculous question, even for the wildly flirtatious conversation we’d been having, but I had to ask. Just to see what he said.

  “That’s a problem I’m still working on,” he admitted as he set me back on my seat so he could open the door for us.

  Even through my sensual haze, I felt a happy warmth in my stomach that was completely separate from sex. This was the feeling of a teenager. That warm, silly joy that filled you up and made you want to dance.

  He liked me.

  * * *

  TREY COULDN’T HAVE scripted a more perfect night to bring Courtney here.

  They sat on the stone patio behind his mother’s vacant house, an ultramodern setting overlooking a bluff high up in the Palisades. His mother rarely visited the place but maintained the property to use as a base when she travelled to the States. Trey and his brothers all had keys, but they let one another know when they needed the place. Trey had blocked out tonight to be with Courtney.

  The fog had lifted enough that they could see down to the canyon below and the view didn’t disappoint. The catering company had lit the outdoor fireplace, and its warmth kept the evening chill at bay. Candles had been lit under hurricane chimneys on the table. More candles hung in sconces from the pergola overhead. The steaks and side dishes had been placed in the warming drawer when they arrived. All Trey needed to do was take their plates outside and pour the drinks.

  Now, as they finished a Canadian ice wine his brother Damian had recommended for their chocolate torte and strawberries, Trey watched Courtney across the built-in stone table.

  “This is amazing.” She lifted her glass to gesture toward the view and the house.

  “My dad gave the house to mom as a parting gift when she divorced him.” One of his father’s classier moves.

  “Don’t most couples try to take things from each other in the divorce settlement?”

  “I think Dad was just glad that she didn’t try to take custody of the kids. He’d cheated on her and she knew it—the whole town knew it—so I think he wanted to maintain her goodwill.” That wasn’t the whole truth though. “Actually, I think my mom was the love of my dad’s life. He just wasn’t ready to settle down.”

  “He seems like an interesting man,” Courtney noted, taking her napkin from her lap to wipe the corners of her mouth. Her manners were elegant and neat.

  “Interesting?” He nodded. “I’ll grant him that much, I guess.”

  “Does he get along with your brothers?” She unclipped some gold baubles from one of the veils around her shoulders and attached them to her fingers.

  “No.” He stacked their empty plates and slid them aside. “Damian and Luke don’t even speak to the old man. They moved up north to follow business interests. Damian started breeding horses and Luke opened a craft beer venture with a local farmer along the Sonoma Coast.”

  “Sounds great. If they need any advice about diversifying and maintaining profitability—” She stopped herself midsentence. “Whoops. Sometimes it’s hard not to think like a financial advisor.”

  Trey grinned. “I will pass along your name.”

  She shrugged, the flames behind her outlining her body in a warm glow. “I don’t work on commission. I just happen to believe in what we do.”

  “What advice do you have for me on profitable diversification?” He wondered how much expertise she was hiding in the back offices of Sphere Asset Management. He hadn’t learned much about her work yet, but in the texts and emails they’d exchanged during their days apart, he’d discovered she often stayed late at the office. She’d been at her desk the night before until ten.

  “We probably shouldn’t mix business and pleasure, right?” She toyed with the silk around her shoulders, its short fringe blowing in the evening breeze.

  He wanted to hear her say “pleasure” again. And again. Almost as much as he wanted to provide her with that particular commodity.

  “Now that you mention it, my thoughts are starting to turn carnal.” He’d had a bedroom suite cleaned for their arrival. He happened to know the fireplace inside was already lit, the balcony doors open to the night air on the second floor.

  “It’s the chocolate torte,” she teased. “There’s something very sexy about it. I think it’s an aphrodisiac.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s you.” He skimmed aside one of the layers of fabric that covered her upper arm.

  “Wait!” She tugged the scarf back into place. “I need that.”

  “I think clothes are going to get in the way of what I have in mind.”

  “Then you must have forgotten that I wanted to give you a private show.” She pushed back the cast-iron seat, the legs making a metallic scrape along the stone floor of the patio. “Do you have a sound system out here?”

  She passed him her MP3 player. The screen was lit and a song cued up.

  “Of course.” Standing, he strode to a small panel that controlled the outdoor lights, fountains, and entertainment systems. �
��I could bring down a full-size movie screen if you care to watch a film out here.”

  He connected her device to the speakers and pressed Play.

  “You Hollywood types,” she scoffed, taking her place in the center of a small courtyard surrounded by flowering bushes. “So over-the-top.”

  The music began then, a slow, seductive flute that made him think of those cartoons where a snake charmer made a cobra dance. Or maybe it was Courtney’s moves that brought that image to mind. She undulated in a smooth wave, her body as sinuous as a gymnast’s.

  He stalked closer. Even though he could see in the firelight—especially with all the candles burning—he wanted a front row seat for this. He’d almost forgotten how different she was when she danced. She seemed to become someone else as she spun and leaped, pulling off a veil and tossing it into the bushes.

  Someone utterly confident. Outgoing.

  Smoldering.

  He held her gaze while she twirled out of another layer. A yellow veil drifted to the floor as her music swelled with horns and strings. She picked up her pace, high kicking in a circle. Shimmying out of a yellow piece of silk that acted as a skirt. There was another skirt beneath this one. Maybe even two. He squinted to see through the remaining veils but couldn’t.

  She rang the little bells she’d put on her fingers earlier, the sound blending seamlessly with the music coming through the speakers all around them. She arched into a partial backbend and plucked off a gold-colored veil that had been tied around her neck like a cape. He never would have guessed she wore so many layers. The fine silk clung to her body but didn’t hide her curves.

  She approached one of the posts of the pergola and spun around it like she would a dancer’s pole. It was too thick for her to climb, but the gesture reminded him of her moves that first night he’d seen her. She met his eyes for a moment and he guessed she was thinking about that electrifying experience too.

  His body hungered for hers.

  Another layer of skirt came off in a swoosh of emerald material that ended up around his neck as she danced past him. Her skirt must have brushed a patch of primrose flowers near the edge of the patio because the scent wafted toward him. He could see through the veils that remained on her body. A sheer pink number was knotted above her breasts, the fabric parting to reveal her midriff and a gold chain around her waist.

  A cream-colored swath of silk hugged her hips, a slit on either side of her lean, toned thighs. The candlelight made her skin glow, the sconces swaying slightly in the breeze.

  The music slowed, returning to a lone flute.

  Courtney’s chest rose and fell quickly as she looked up at him through dark lashes. It took all his willpower not to reach for her. Wrap his hands around her hips and draw her closer. His fingers itched to remove those last two veils himself. To free the loose knots and worship her beautiful body with his mouth and hands.

  She lifted her chin, tossing her bangs out of her eyes. And in one quick movement she yanked off the top veil. Then the bottom. The music faded to silence as she stood before him in the tiniest bra and panty set imaginable. Three triangles of cream colored lace that had been hidden beneath her costume.

  “No applause?” she asked finally, not moving as they stared at one another through a fog of heat and longing.

  At least, that’s what was happening for him. Steam rolled off him in waves.

  But she deserved more than just his caveman lust. Trey tried to make his brain synch up with his mouth to give her the praise her dance warranted.

  “I’ve studied film my whole life. Color, movement, sound.” He clutched at the veil that still rested over his shoulder, the green silk a poor substitute for her soft skin. “But I’ve never witnessed a scene that engaged all my senses the way you just did, Courtney. I’m completely...captivated.”

  Even as he said it, he realized he may have revealed more than he’d intended. But hell. She stood there all but naked after sharing something really special with him. She’d revealed something too.

  “W-wow.” She tilted her head, almost as if she was trying to deflect the praise. “I would have been happy with a...” She took a deep breath that he recognized was an effort to control her speech. “With a kiss.”

  “Don’t accept anything less than you deserve,” he bit out with a fierceness he felt to his toes. “Ever.”

  9

  I WAS SHAKING, and not from the temperature outside.

  Cool air off the Pacific brushed past my exposed flesh, the touch of moisture turning to steam as it neared my heated skin. So I definitely wasn’t cold. The shaking was a direct result of Trey’s words. And the look in his eyes.

  Holy. Cow. The look in his eyes.

  Could I be falling for him? I realized for the first time what an apt metaphor that was—falling. Because this feeling was exactly like being at that gut-sucking precipice of a big roller coaster and knowing it’d be a scary trip down. Still, I couldn’t get off the ride now. I’d signed on for this, hadn’t I?

  Then his hands were on me and I hit the downward slide. Sensations roared through me until my nerve endings ran the show. Trey’s mouth warm on mine, his tongue sliding along the seam of my lips in an erotic plea. My fingers clutching his jacket lapels in an effort to hold myself up since my knees had turned liquid beneath me.

  I knew I’d be mostly naked at the end of my dance, but I hadn’t known I’d feel this naked. Being up close to him while he remained dressed and I was unclothed gave me a hot, sexy feeling. I rocked my hips from one side to the other, liking the slight friction of his wool gabardine against my bare skin. And, of course, I was rewarded by the hard strain of what lay beneath his fly.

  “We’re going inside,” he growled in a tone that implied I should not argue.

  As if.

  He whipped off his suit jacket before I could blink and wrapped it around my shoulders. Confused, I realized that he looked behind him as he nudged me out from under the sheltered pergola. There were no houses across the bluffs and no neighbors to speak of, since we were on a cliff that jutted way out over the canyon. But with lights visible down below us, maybe he was worried someone would see me as we hurried toward the house.

  How considerate was that?

  As soon as I thought it, I had a flash of worry. What if he just doesn’t want to be seen with me? But I knew that was the old, insecure Courtney. That kind of thinking remained my go-to reflex—had been all my life—so it was tough to ignore. Yet I would ignore it. Nothing was going to rob me of this night with Trey. He did more than want me.

  He cared about me.

  I could feel it in his touch. See it in his eyes.

  When we neared the boxy, modern home built on four different levels, some of the windows were lit from within and I could see lots of light wood and chrome. Heavy pendant lamps looked like they came straight out of a manufacturing plant. They were sleek and industrial-looking, as were the rubberized staircases and stainless-steel countertops in the kitchen. But we didn’t head toward the main section of the house.

  Trey guided us around a corner to another patio surrounded by gardenia trees. He slid aside the screen so we could enter an open French door into a large bedroom suite. A fire blazed behind a black cage screen, open on both sides. A sleek stone hearth wrapped around it where it jutted into the room. A gray spread covered the low king-size bed, and there was a painting of a red poppy on one wall, but that was the only color against the neutral walls and light bamboo floor.

  It felt as if I’d walked into a dream. This empty, gorgeous home perched high on top of a bluff was a place apart from reality, a place I didn’t belong. But then, all my time with Trey felt that way. He was my alternate reality. Being with him brought out some latent sensual animal in me and I loved the feeling. That was probably why I’d tried dancing again tonight, to recreate the magic of that first time.

  Trey flicked the suit jacket off my shoulders with the barest nudge of his hand. His greedy gaze roamed all over me and I forg
ot to feel anything but the joy of being with him. I wouldn’t back down from this magical chemistry. I wouldn’t cheat myself of Trey Fraser.

  So I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

  I lost myself in that kiss. In him. I melted into him, burrowing between shirt buttons and tunneling into his sleeves to touch his hot skin. He couldn’t undress fast enough for me. Maybe I’d used up all my patience in my own striptease.

  His shirt and jacket hit the bamboo floor in a flash. His belt slid free and so did the zipper of his pants. I backed him over to the bed, toeing off his socks even as I tugged down his boxers. Then his mouth fastened on my breast and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I felt the light teasing of his tongue around the crest and then he drew me between his lips and flicked at the taut nipple.

  It was almost as if he’d touched me between my thighs, because a warm heat vibrated there, too. Urgent now, I reached between my breasts to unfasten the bra already sliding down my rib cage.

  I heard a low growl in Trey’s throat, a predatory rumble at odds with his usual urbane demeanor. I knew he must be seriously on edge too and that was a heady turn-on by itself. I felt privileged to see him like this—stripped of the famous public persona. With me, he was simply Trey. My extraordinary lover.

  He lifted me off my feet and carried me to the bed, eyeing me with a dark, hungry look. My toes curled as I gazed up at him in the firelight, his gorgeous body unveiled. The bed beneath me was so soft, the man hovering over me so rock hard. I couldn’t wait to feel him on top of me, his strength against my curves. With Trey, there was no awkwardness. I felt feminine. Womanly. Sexual.

  And oh, God, did I want him.

  He took his time touching every part of me with a thorough attention I never dreamed any man would have the patience for. His hands smoothed and circled, massaging any lingering tension away. Warm kisses to my breasts mingled with the skillful kneading of his fingers along my shoulders, down my arms until we clasped hands. Passionate and tender at the same time. Maybe it was selfish, but I lost myself in the bliss of his undivided devotion to me, to my pleasure.