Pleasure Extraordinaire 3 (PURSUIT)

by Liv Bennett

  “Keep sucking my balls,” Zane yells between his ragged breaths as Laila works him up. I resume my position between his legs, but it’s hard to follow their rhythm while Zane moves his hips up and down and Laila moves forward and backward. Despite the big size of his penis, his balls are small and make me wonder how big Ace’s balls are. I should pay closer attention to them next time. If there is a next time at all. Particularly if he shows up now and watches me getting intimate with Zane.

  Laila’s skills don’t stop amazing me. She’s full of energy and enthusiasm as she bounces up and down on top of Zane, and Zane’s face tells me this will be one of the shortest sexual encounters of his life. An embarrassingly short time for an ordinary guy, but even worse for a professional escort like himself.

  Will the deal be off if he comes now? It shouldn’t because he willingly chose Laila over me, and if he can’t control his ejaculation, it’s his problem. But, I shouldn’t completely ignore the possibility that he might want to take a break and then go for a second round. He might even ask me to suck his penis, which is now coated with Laila’s juices. As much as I find Laila sexy, I’m not sure I can turn off my gag reflex when I have to taste her on the cock of a man that I despise.

  My tongue starts feeling numb with all the licking on Zane’s unwanted area, not to forget the weird position giving me a neck ache. Laila speeds up, earning loud moans from Zane. He’s a goner for sure. I can’t imagine a man who can handle that kind of performance longer.

  “Slow down, sexy. Let’s leave some for Seven too,” Zane mumbles the words I’ve been afraid to hear. Laila stops short and looks up at me, the hazed expression on her face turning worried. She must have been aware of what’s going on between Ace and me, and that’s why she was her best, but even she can’t prevent what’s about to come. The moment of truth has arrived, and I have no more options left to turn to.

  Ace’s words echo in my head, “You won’t fuck another man, single or married. You’re now mine.” The memory of that special moment hurts every cell in my body as I stare at Zane.

  He slides out of Laila and holds his penis, rubbing it up and down. “Come now,” he orders. I know what I should do, what I will do, but it still gives me pain. He’ll fuck me, mark me, even make me orgasm, and the special bond between Ace and me will vanish.

  The only good that will come out of this is Zane stopping Edward and Michael without Ace witnessing the price of that favor. However, the murmurs coming from the corridor are likely proof I’m wrong. Zane straightens up and holds my hand, urging me toward his naked body. I get onto the bed on my knees and slowly lift one leg to straddle him. He grabs my hips and positions me right on top of his cock, the head of it touching my entrance.

  The sounds in the corridor get louder. I close my eyes, wishing it’s not Ace, and let Zane capture my lips into a rough kiss. I can’t do it. I can’t fucking fake enjoying Zane’s sexual advances if it’s Ace out there. Worse yet, if he sees me. It’s not the feeling of disgust or guilt. My heart simply won’t allow me to proceed with Zane’s demands.

  I pull away, feeling a tear fall out of my eye, and shake my head at Zane. He closes his eyes for a moment, perhaps thinking how he should maneuver. When I start to get out of his lap, he opens his eyes and drags me back to his chest. “I know why Michael hired you. I know every little detail related to that contract, and I’ll tell you everything if you do as I said, like a good girl. You’ll have the last piece of your puzzle, and I’ll have my revenge on Ace. How about that? Can you do that much?”

  I freeze, my mind going into shock with his revelation. Can he be lying? Using my weakness to his benefit? His expression doesn’t reveal anything that I can use to gauge his honesty.

  The door bursts open, the loud banging of it bringing me back to my senses. I don’t dare turn, and I don’t need to, to know it is Ace storming inside. I sit back on Zane’s lap, rest one hand on his shoulder, and hold his cock with the other as he buries it deep inside me.

  And I moan his name, loud and clear for everyone around to hear, “Zane.”

  THE END

  *

  Pleasure Extraordinaire 4, the last installment in the series, is scheduled to be published in May 2014.

  *

  Does May seem too long to wait for? How about indulging in another spicy novel while waiting? The Businessman’s Tie (The Power to Please, Book 1) is available for free on Barnes & Noble

  *

  *

  Part One of “The Power to Please,” a dark, erotic romance series about shattering loss and redeeming love.

  Who knows where one night of passion might lead?

  Recently-divorced Nonnie Crawford craves a new beginning—it arrives in the form of an enigmatic, dark-eyed stranger she dubs The Businessman. He seduces her with a sizzling introduction to the thrill of submission. As the days pass, she can’t forget him or the way he made her feel, so she seeks him out and soon finds herself at a BDSM club. There, she meets Michael Weston, a handsome, charming playboy who’s keen to seize the reins left dangling by the absent Businessman.

  Nonnie’s ready to take chances … perhaps too ready.

  *

  Head back over to Barnes & Noble to get your copy!

  *

  An excerpt from The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam) is next …

  Excerpt from The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam)

  Why didn’t women come with a how-to manual? It doesn’t have to include some complicated information like how to manipulate them and make them do whatever your heart—or cock—desires. But some simple basics, like how to talk to them, how to understand their cues, how to flirt with them, and most importantly, how to please them without screwing it up.

  Even so, Taylor would need a special edition just for her.

  She won’t see me. She won’t take my calls. She barely acknowledges my existence during the weekly meetings. And, this happens just when I’ve started thinking things were looking up between us. What do I have to do to make her see that she’ll be better off with me than spending a life of solitude?

  I don’t know how much longer I can continue this ever-challenging pursuit of her. I’m beginning to get tired of following her like a cat after a mouse.

  The night Adriana invited Pat over for dinner, Pat asked me, “Are you happier now than when you were with me?”

  She had a point. She’s always had a point. She is one of the rare women who don’t need a how-to manual. She is direct in her thoughts and wishes, and that was one of the thousands of things I loved about her.

  Yet, I couldn’t answer her question without the possibility of breaking her heart. I was happy, maybe the happiest in my life when I was with Pat. This is no overstatement or exaggeration. She loved sex and was open to trying different things. She cooked delicious food, maybe as well as my sister. She was humble, tender, and caring without compromising her directness and rationality. She was a half man, half woman in a hell-of-a-sexy woman’s body. The perfect mixture. We had plans for the future. We wanted a big house in the city and another by the beach and lots of kids to fill them with. I would teach them basketball, and she would teach them music.

  However, everything changed when Taylor and Pat’s ex, Zach, entered the equation, disrupting plans for my future with Pat. Since then, I’ve become the miserable-and-lost me that I am today, in spite of having once been in a happy relationship with Pat.

  And after the day at the LAPD station, I’m in deeper shit than I’ve ever been. After seeing Taylor writhing with an orgasm, listening to her stifled whimpers, feeling my fingers deep inside her wet core, my suffering has evolved to an unbearable level.

  She begged me to make her reach orgasm; I felt the spasm of her inner muscles around my fingers. All crystal clear signs of pleasure. Pure and real pleasure. Yet, she’s rejecting me as if I burned her house or killed her cat.

  At times, I swear I’ll stop working for Taylor and go back to where I left off with Pat. She’s willing to ta
ke me back. She told me so during the dinner with Adriana with the promise of giving me the time of my life. If she wasn’t such a good-hearted and generous person, and I could overlook her past with her ex, I’d take her up on the offer and let her spoil me rotten. But, she deserves a man who truly loves her and puts her above everything. Not someone like me who will show up today and leave tomorrow because he’s love struck by another woman.

  A month has passed since my intimate moment with Taylor, and to this date, she hasn’t said a word about it. I have no choice but to go along with her unspoken wishes.

  I leave my office windows and door open to help with the air circulation and sit back in my chair to continue with the spreadsheet I’ve been working on since the morning. Murmurs in the hall keep me from concentrating, so I get up with the intent of asking the people to keep it quiet.

  Strange, Taylor hasn’t warned them already. She squarely objects to the notion of losing precious work time for unproductive activities, like simply talking or surfing the Internet. Well, she hasn’t objected this time because she is the one chatting. With Valerie.

  “You should come with us,” I hear Valerie say. “His friend is very hot. You won’t be disappointed.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not in the mood,” Taylor replies.

  “You’re never in the mood—” Valerie speaks my mind. “Come for a short time, then. If you don’t like him you can just come up with an excuse and leave.”

  I don’t want to hear Taylor’s answer, most likely a positive one, so I shut the door loudly enough for anyone in the hall to hear. I want to punch the wall. She’ll agree on meeting a stranger, but she won’t come anywhere near me. How fucking unfair is that?

  There’s no point in trying to work now. I’ll just skim through the numbers without really studying them, so I’d rather call it a day and get prepared for the dinner. Jerry, my boss from the marketing company I work for, invited me to a dinner party at his summer house in Malibu. To save time, I brought a fresh shirt and slacks to the office. I shrug out of my work shirt and place it on the couch. Examining the scar on my chest has become a daily habit, so I approach the mirror by the door and examine my chest while putting on the clean shirt.

  I leave the buttons undone and run my fingers over the scar. It’s still a little sore and sensitive, even to my soft touch. I’ve already made an appointment with a dermatologist to get the scar removed with a laser. I don’t want the constant reminder of having come close to death, although I receive compliments from women at the gym every now and then about how sexy it looks on my chest. Sexy, my ass. I was in pain, terrified, and helpless. Nothing sexy about that.

  A knock on the door startles me, and I take a step back. “Yes.”

  Taylor opens the door but doesn’t enter. “Are you busy?”

  I shake my head and motion her inside. I don’t bother with buttoning my shirt and sit down on the edge of my desk while surveying her from head to toe. Her hair is hanging loosely on her shoulders, a little longer than she usually keeps it after Jack’s death. Jack loved her waist-length hair. So did I. And right after his death, her very first action was to shave off all her hair. Even bald, she looked good. Maybe she will grow it back to her waist again. Her long hair was her signature, besides her big breasts, round ass, plump lips, and daring eyes. Well, every part of her is special.

  Her bra is vaguely visible under her crisply pressed white shirt, and from the outline of her nipples under the shirt, it’s clear that she’s sporting a thin layer of bra cups. No, I shouldn’t go there. Too distracting. Maybe I should file a complaint about the sensual clothing she’s wearing at work. Valerie would be delighted to act upon it.

  I glance down at her tightly fitting gray skirt and wonder how she can walk in that. Well, at least she’s wearing flat shoes. She’s the perfect height for me. Not too short to make me feel like I have one of my sisters around, and not so tall that I can’t still feel protective over her. Yeah, I’m macho like that. One of the few downsides of being me.

  I’m not the only one studying the other, though. Her eyes are sweeping over my pecs down to my abs. She looks hesitant as she moves toward me. I want to joke and say, “I won’t bite,” but I may not be able to keep to that promise if she gets too close to me.

  She motions toward my shirt with her eyes. “You can turn on the AC if it’s too hot in here.”

  “That’s not it.” I shake my head, unable to suppress a smile. “I’m getting ready for a party in Malibu.” She raises an eyebrow. Her expression is clouded with curiosity and even a little jealousy. When she doesn’t reveal any of her thoughts, I ask, “so, what brings you here?” After a long time of practically ignoring my existence.

  “I need you for a meeting on Monday afternoon.” She’s brisk and to the point. She won’t spend any second longer than necessary with me.

  But, I want to keep her longer. “I don’t work for you on Mondays.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Like I don’t know that.”

  I flash a knowing smile. “Well?”

  “Can you leave your other work earlier and meet me at four at the Four Seasons?”

  I lift my hand to scratch my forehead and look away as if I’m thinking about it. Of course I can leave earlier. No problem there, but she doesn’t need to know that. “I’ll be meeting with an important client for lunch. I don’t know if I can make it.”

  “Oh, please. It’s crucial that you come with me.”

  I remember the last time she said “Please” to me when she desperately needed me to finish her off. Shit. It’s too hard being around her. And, it’s making me hard, too. “What is it about?” Change of the subject is always good to keep my arousal in check.

  “Well, it’s sort of a secret.”

  I don’t respond, but just stare at her to prompt her to reveal the secret of hers.

  She exhales a long breath and sits on the chair close to me. Her skirt inches up as she crosses her legs, revealing her shapely knees. “Have you heard of the Berenson Country Club?” I nod my head. “Well, it changed owners recently due to financial problems, and the new owner wants to turn it into a housing development. I managed to land an appointment with him to get him to consider letting us handling the construction. I need you to come with me to—”

  “Impress him.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that and you know more about construction than I do. Probably, he’s heard of your name too.”

  “How large is the land?”

  She clasps her hands over her lap. “A little over one hundred acres.”

  “We haven’t taken any project that size. Are you sure you’re up to the challenge?”

  “I want to take the company to the next level. If it means I’ll have to work harder, find more subcontractors, and hire more people, I’ll do it. And of course, I’ll need your help, too. The new owner sent me some of the designs he’s considering for the townhouses and apartment buildings. I’ll send them to you so you can check them out and tell me what you think.”

  Nodding, I shift at my place. I notice her eyes running down to my chest and immediately back up to my eyes. “Have you talked about it with the board?” I ask.

  “No. It’s not necessary at this stage. And, you know, I don’t really need to consult them about anything—” She pauses and looks down at her hands. “As long as I know your opinion on it.”

  My lips curl up into a smile with pride, but I purse them to hide it. She doesn’t need to know how I love the way she values my opinion over everyone else’s when it comes to work. Why can’t she do it in personal matters too?

  “So. Are you coming with me?” She lifts her head and shoots me the same ‘Please, let me come’ look she did. She claims I’m playing with her when in reality, I’m just a pitiable toy in her hands.

  An idea pops up. “It’ll be complicated for me. I’ll have to arrange a new meeting with my client, and he may take it in a negative way. He’s coming from Las Vegas. Which will include changes in plan
e tickets and hotel reservations, too.”

  “Oh.” She bites her lips as always she does when she is disappointed.

  “But, I can—” I stop to watch her face light up “—make it by four-thirty, if you do something for me.”

  “Anything,” she says. “Well, not anything, of course. Depends on what you want.”

  I smirk at her wordiness. “Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night.”

  She shakes her head slightly as if trying to say ‘I should have known this was coming,’ while staring at me.

  “Please, it’s just dinner. I’ll be good. I won’t do anything you don’t want. I promise I’ll ask clearly and well in advance if I intend to do something.”

  She springs to her feet and stands right in front of me, her pale face so close to mine I can feel her warm breath on my skin. “How about you don’t intend to do anything, and we just have dinner?” Out of the blue, she raises her hand and touches the middle of my bare chest with the tip of her forefinger.

  I didn’t see it coming and I have no idea why she touches me, when all she wants me to do is to stay away from her. My heartbeat races as if I’m on a treadmill. I watch her face with the utmost curiosity and feel her finger tips trail along my bare skin. A sweet strawberry scent spreads from her hair and fills my lungs. Her lips part slightly, and I see her tongue brushing her teeth. I might need a cardiac massage if she keeps on teasing me like this.

  She pushes away the shirt far enough to reveal my scar. “The bandage is gone.” She gazes at the scar, her fingers tickling my skin.

  Why don’t you run your hand all over my chest, baby? It takes all my energy to not grab her waist and haul her over my desk. It’d turn this boring day into a memorable one. “Yes, it is.”

  Gently, she runs a circle around scar; her eyes reach up and lock on mine. “Does it hurt?”

  I swallow hard. “No.”

  “Good.” With that, she jerks away and strides toward the door. “Pick me up at seven,” she says before she stalks out of my office.