Accounting for
Lust
By
Ylette Pearson
© Ylette Pearson 2012
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.
Table of Contents/TOC
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Forteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
Cassandra Adams stalled inside the door. What was she doing here? She didn’t belong in this smoky club where sex, booze and sweat cloyed the air. A shove from behind sent her further into the interior and she stumbled to keep her footing on the eight inch heels. Grabbing onto the back of a high chair, she inhaled and turned around.
Damn Graham Adams for dying. If he stayed alive, she wouldn’t be here, craving relief from the stress of sitting at her father’s sickbed for nearly a year. If her father hadn’t died, she would still be safely at home, pouring over other people’s accounts instead of trying to forget that she had to take charge of his company next week.
A stream of party-goers swirled her around again and carried her deeper into the room, onto the dance floor. The bass from the sound system vibrated through the floor and tingled her nerves. Involuntary she swayed to the beat.
One dance and then she’ll leave. She tucked at the hem of her short black skirt and smoothed the midnight blue sequenced top. At least she didn’t look as out of place as she felt. No-one spared her a second glance as the crowd around her lost themselves in the rhythm of the music. Cassie smiled. She succeeded in becoming anonymous for her last night on the tropical island of Mauritius.
The music slowed and she gyrated her hips in tune with the mock sexual dance the reggae singer belted out over the speakers. The air swirled and cooled, almost as if people were giving her space. Looking up, she stared into dark chocolate brown eyes a couple of inches above her. A combination of Jason Stratham and Vin Diesel, the closely cropped hair, goatee and muscled body signified danger with capital letters. He tilted his hips towards her and Cassie’s body recognized the age-old question.
Yes, her body screamed. Run, her mind tried to overrule. She kept his eyes captive until a lazy smile spread over his otherwise clean-shaven face.
For a moment, the music faded and she stumbled. A steadying hand on her arm sent shockwaves of awareness zinging through her. Warmth spread to her limbs, easing the numbness of the past year. She revelled in feeling again. The small flame in the brown eyes in front of her erupted into an inferno. Cassie caught her breath as an answering flame kindled in her abdomen. She wanted this. She needed this. Uncomplicated. Carnal. No strings attached.
She caught up with the beat again. He closed the distance between them, the heat from his body caressing her taught nipples, giving her a whiff of musk and man. A droplet of sweat trickled down her neck and slipped into the valley between her breasts. His gaze followed its progress and he licked his lips. When their eyes met again, he cocked his head to the side.
“Shall we get out of here?”
Mouth dry, she could only nod. What are you doing? She ignored the voice screaming inside her head. Taking her hand, the man pulled her from the dance floor. Outside the club, the cooler humid air cleared her scrambled thoughts. She couldn’t do this. She had to stop him now.
He ignored the tropical rain and pushed her against the wall in the shadows. She swallowed convulsively, trying to slow the runaway train her heart had become. This was a stupid idea. Chartered accountants didn’t live dangerously. They liked boring routine.
So why hadn’t she ended this yet? He could be a mass murderer. He could be a rapist. She tensed.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll show you my credentials if you want to see them, but I don’t think you do. Do you?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to know who he is. Tight muscles played beneath her fingers as she grabbed his wide shoulders. Oh, it had been too long since she marvelled in the male hardness. He gently removed her hands from his body and trapped them above her head. Her mind screamed at the vulnerability of being at his mercy.
Gazes locked, he parted her thighs with his knee and her skirt rode to her hips. His male hardness probed her stomach. Coarse jeans chafed against her naked inner thighs. He hooked her leg over his, exposing her thong- clad pussy to the night air. Cooling the moistness already dripping from it.
His free hand caressed her leg, drifted over the now high-riding skirt and skimmed the side of her breast, hardening the nipple to unbearable tightness. He lowered his head and she swallowed the whimper of anticipation.
This was her last and only chance at uncomplicated freedom. His lips pressed warm and firm against hers and her insides liquefied. The goatee grated against her skin as he dropped his mouth to her neck. The vibrations of the music filtering through the wall, synchronised with the excitement buzzing through her.
When his mouth travelled upwards again, Cassie parted her lips and he caught them in a deep kiss. Moisture pooled between her legs and she hung onto him as her limbs turned to jelly. His tongue ravished her mouth, simultaneously giving and demanding. His hand fumbled with the hem of her blouse and he captured her moan in his mouth when his finger circled the hardened peak of her breast. The throbbing between her thighs increased. She needed more. She needed all of him.
As if sensing her need, he gently pinched the rosy peak between his fingers, twisting and rubbing until Cassie was unable to form a single coherent thought. She ground her hips against his hard flesh and rejoiced at the shudder that ran through his body. He slipped his hand under her skirt and skimmed the lace of her thong. She arched her body to allow him access, but he denied her satisfaction by stroking her inner thigh, all the time moving closer and closer, but not touching where she needed it most.
“I think you two should take this somewhere more private.”
His movements stilled and he moved his body to shield her from the unknown man. The smell of hibiscus and frangipani drifted between the raindrops. He smoothed the wet strands of hair from her face and letting go of her hands above her head, he cupped her face and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
“Come with me?”
The question caught her off-guard. If she went with him there would be no turning back. Did she want to end this now?
No.
She managed a nod. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her toward the cabanas. Above her, the coco palms swayed in the breeze. The muscles in his shoulders shifted under the wet shirt. He was so strong. If she wanted out, she had to do it now. She was no match for this strength. Cuddling closer to his body, she made her decision. Tonight she didn’t want cautious, she wanted danger. And freedom. And sex.
The stubs of his close-cropped hair rasped under her fingers. Reaching up, she planted a kiss in his neck, smiling as he groaned in frustration. The rain stopped a
s he stepped onto the veranda of a cabana, shouldered the door open and lowered her feet to the floor. Hard muscles caressed her feminine ones and water dripped onto the floor. He kicked the door shut behind them before his lips descended on hers again.
She slipped her hands under his shirt and ran her fingers over the hard ridges lining his spine. He was every woman’s fantasy come true and tonight he was hers. She didn’t want to know his name, where he was from or anything about him. Tonight it was enough that they recognised the mutual need and satisfied it in each other.
He pulled her into the bathroom and grabbed a towel from the rail. Cassie closed her eyes against the wanton woman reflected in the mirror. She might get burned, she might get hurt, she might have the most amazing night of sex. Whatever happened, there would be no regrets.
Her limbs warmed under his soft rubbing. A finger lifted her chin.
“You still okay, sweetheart? You can stop at any time.”
“No … yes, I don’t want to stop.”
The towel thudded to the floor. “Thank God.”
He cupped her face in his hands, running his thumb over her lower lip before he lowered his head. His warm lips caressed hers in a brief featherlight kiss. She wanted more. Her tongue darted over her lip, depositing moisture.
“I want to take it slow.” He pulled her against him. “But you’re driving me crazy.”
Her arms circled his neck. “Slow is overrated. We have the whole night.”
Her cheeks flamed. Did she really just tell him to move his ass? When did she become so bold? So reckless?
He grinned. “I agree.”
He backed her against the marble top and his mouth found the sensitive crevice behind her ear. She clung to his shoulders as he lifted her onto the cold counter. Her shoes clattered on the tiles when he caught her lips in his. His tongue demanded entry. She obliged and lost all coherent thought.
When he broke the kiss, Cassie complained. His hands fumbled with the hem of her top and she lifted her arms. When the garment joined the shoes on the floor, he hissed and Cassie moved to cover her ample breasts with her arms.
“Don’t.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “They’re perfect.”
Reverently he cupped the globes in his palms, testing their weight. The roughness of his hands against her smooth skin shocked her pussy into weeping. His lips closed on a rosy peak and the nipple hardened. When his tongue circled the areole, Cassie squirmed, trying to curb the electrical currents running through her body.
“I want to see all of you.” His husky plea boosted her confidence. She nodded and offered no objection when her carried her to the bedroom. He lowered her to her feet at the edge of the bed and ripped the comforter off.
He started unbuttoning his shirt. “No, let me.”
Cassie’s fingers trembled as one by one button sprang free. Man, musk and need assaulted her nostrils, making her dizzy, weakening her knees. Hard planes of chest warmed her palms as she slipped the shirt over his shoulders. The muscle in his midriff jumped as she trailed a line of kisses down his stomach.
The buckle of his belt sprang free, but he caught her hand.
“My turn first.”
The skirt dropped to the floor and he lowered her to the bed. His hands caressed her waist and tucked at the lace thong. She lifted her hips.
Cassie writhed under his scrutiny and excitement pooled in her belly. Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, a voice cried that she was playing with fire. She wanted fire, she silenced the voice as he knelt next to the bed.
He lifted her legs onto his shoulders and stroked her calves, raining kisses on her inner leg. She sighed as he nuzzled her inner thigh before burying his head between her legs. Wave upon wave of sensation washed over her as his tongue found her clit, licking and suckling until her mind slipped into a vortex of pleasure.
She fondled her breasts, kneading them and twitching the hard peaks of her tight nipples, blazing a tunnel of need to her core. He lifted her hips and slipped a finger inside her pussy. Bucking against his hand, she begged for more. He replaced the one finger with two, slipping them inside the wet, warm channel. Scissoring and twirling the digits until her breath caught in her throat. She lifted her bottom off the bed and pushed his fingers deeper, riding them.
“I want to taste you.” Was this really her voice?
He withdrew his fingers, leaving her feeling strangely bereft. Pants, boxers and shoes flew across the room. The bed beside her sagged and Cassie swallowed convulsively as he pressed his cock into her face.
Oh God, he was huge. He grinned as she clamped her hand around his organ. “Like what you see?”
Managing a nod, she darted her tongue over the sensitive tip. His breath hissed out. Emboldened by his reaction she opened her mouth over him, taking his as deep as she could. Her teeth grazed him and she bit down gently. The salty taste of man increased the pressure in her pussy and she tilted her hips. She stroked his balls as she licked him like her favourite ice cream.
“Enough.”
He scooted off the bed and finally, she heard the tear of foil. Then his cock demanded entry against her wet opening. She held her breath. Would she be able to take him? Slowly entered her, stretching her, filling her until she feared she wouldn’t be able to accommodate him.
He held still for moment and the muscles in her pussy relaxed. He withdrew his cock slowly and her muscles hugged him tight, refusing to let him go. When he thrust into her again, Cassie was lost in a mindless pool of passion and ecstasy. With each stroke, she orbited further into outer space until there was nothing left but him pounding into her.
Her fingers clawed at the sheets as he lifted her feet onto his shoulders, tilting her upwards and trusting deeper into her. Pleasure and pain collided. She met him stroke for stroke, forcing his cock deeper into her. Faster. Harder. The only sounds in the room their panting and the gentle slapping of his testicles.
“I’m close,” she shrieked. “Harder. More.”
He captured her cry in his mouth as she came, her body shuddering, contracting. Drifting in and out of consciousness, images of the muscles in his neck straining and a muffled cry, flashed through her mind. He stiffened, arched his back and found his own release before he collapsed on top of her.
His weight trapped her against the mattress. Covered her. Made her feel safe. When she let out a shuddering sigh, he rolled off her, took care of the condom and dragged her against him, spooning her legs with his. She drifted into a satisfied slumber with one heavy muscled arm circling her midriff.
Cassie woke with the sun blinding her through a slit in the curtains. She squinted against the bright light and stretched. A cat with a full bowl of cream couldn’t be more content. Her foot connected with a pair of hairy calves. Her body was tight and deliciously tender. She never knew one night could hold so many adventures. She smiled as she tried to calculate how many times they had made love during the night, but gave up. They had precious little sleep.
With dark stubble now more pronounced, the man next to her resembled a pirate. Her own, darkly handsome and extremely sexy, fantasy pirate. A small scar ran from the corner of one eye to his ear and she stifled a giggle. Yep, he was her personal pirate – complete with battle scars on his shoulder and a slash across his face. He only needed an eye patch to complete the picture. Her own pirate, who understood that sometimes you needed sex without saying a word, without meaningless conversation. Most of all, without demanding anything else in return.
He started to stir and Cassie catapulted into action. She didn’t need the morning after reminisce and preferred to keep the memory of their night, uncomplicated. Gathering her clothes, she headed for the bathroom. The damp clothes grated against her skin, but she had to get out before he woke and broke the spell.
Peeking from the bathroom, his bulky form sprawled across the bed. The sheet had slipped and she allowed herself a moment of indulgence as she took in his firm buttocks, muscular thighs and broad back. Suppressing a sigh and
the strong stab of want raking her body, she quietly opened the door and slipped outside. A couple of hours later she watched as the tarmac fell away from the plane bound for Johannesburg. Her idyllic week-long holiday on the tropical island was over.
****
Hidden behind a palm tree, he watched her shut the door of the cabin. The camera clicked. Her rosy face bore evidence of passion. Just like her old man … their old man.
Anger volcanoed the bile from his stomach to his throat. Graham Adams slept with every whore on the African continent, including his mother, but refused to acknowledge him as his son. He laughed at him - shook him off like fleas from a dog. A mistake he paid for. He sneered. Not that anyone could pin the old man’s demise on him. The mighty weapons manufacturer succumbed to stress. Stress he made sure increased with every photo and every withdrawal he made from the company accounts.
He loved watching the old man squirm when the photos arrived or when the accountant reported the decrease of cash flow. All the while, he moved among them - invisible. When he was done with the old man’s daughter, everyone would know him.
The man shoved the camera back into the bag, turned up the collar of his floral print shirt and strolled towards the airport. Excitement flared through him. He looked forward to play with little miss Adams.
Chapter Two
Ten months later
“That will be all gentleman.” Cassandra Adams shuffled the papers on the desk in front of her into a neat pile without taking her eyes off the nine men rising from the conference table. As they filed out of the room, muffled words drifted toward her.
“Bitch”, “ice maiden”, “needs a man to put her in her place.”
She remained ramrod- straight in her chair. The familiar descriptions lost its impact the third time she overheard them. She was here to save her father’s company, not make friends. Joshua Reed, her assistant and only friend, hovered at the door. He closed it behind the other men, his face a mask of concern. Cassie stood and picked up the file in front of her.
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