Sexual Persuasion

by Sinclair, Maryn

  “You little vixen. You want to play rough. I like that. But don’t bite again. Not if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Let go of me,” she demanded, but he pressed against her with more force.

  “You should do porn. You could make a fortune with these jugs bouncing over your small waist and perfect ass. I can arrange that, you know. Pictures like the one I showed you could net you a tidy retirement. Why, I bet Carpathian would give you the centerfold in his sleazy porn magazine if he got a gander of you naked.”

  That only made Charlotte madder. She pushed against him, to no avail. Sobs choked in her throat, but she wouldn’t let them out. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The smell of liquor and cigarettes turned her stomach. “You’re a pig,” she spat. “Is this how you get turned on? Can’t you get it up any more without drugging and raping a woman?”

  “Sure I can. I’ll show you how turned on I am.” He unzipped his pants and pulled out his eager cock, then pulled down her panties with his free hand. She tried kneeing him, but he jumped back out of reach. Then he pinned her again. Thrusting his middle finger into her slit, he stopped and pulled back. “My, my, you’re hardly damp. Is that the effect Andros has on you?”

  She’d been oozing downstairs with Alex, but Jack had scared her dry. “No, you. You do nothing for me anymore.” She felt like giving up, but instead, she harnessed all the strength she could muster and pushed against him. Jack worked out in the gym of his hotel. He kept in better shape than men half his age. She felt helpless, defeated.

  He laughed. “At least you’re not turned on by a queer.” He laughed again, then jammed his erection between her legs. “I’ll get you juicy, because one thing I’m not is queer. You should know the difference. But then Andros will never take you to bed, so you won’t be able to compare.”

  “Gay or not, Alex is twice the man you are. I saw you. You were afraid of him.”

  A dark flush blossomed on Jack’s cheeks. “You’d better watch out. You’re playing with fire.”

  “Coward. You pick on people weaker than you. That’s the only way you can be in control.”

  “That’s right, baby. See what you do to me? I’m hard as a boulder. Don’t you want my tongue licking your sweet pussy? You used to like that. Remember how I made you come over and over. We can do that again. Then you can suck me off. It’ll be like old times.”

  She felt sick at the thought. His hold on her wrists tightened as he bent down to suck her nipple. When he bit down hard, Charlotte screamed. Wiggling and twisting only made the pain greater. For the first time her erogenous zone gave back nothing but a shiver of revulsion. His other hand still massaged her pussy to get her wet enough to welcome his rock-hard cock, but she remained so dry, she hurt.

  Giving up on her, he spread his oozing fluid over his cockhead to make easy entry and lost his focus long enough to relax his hold. Charlotte wouldn’t waste the moment. She lifted her knee with the force of her entire body and slammed him hard in the balls, smashing his penis up into his hand. Taken by surprise, he released her and doubled over, cupping his nuts and emitting a sickly groan. She quickly pulled up her panties. Unwilling to give him time to recoup, she kicked him again, harder. He hit the floor with a thud, wailing obscenities.

  Charlotte opened the door and, using every bit of strength in her five-feet-five-inch body, kicked the hand coddling his privates. He pulled it away to grab at her ankle, but she zeroed in on the open target and kicked him again, this time on his exposed penis. And again. She thought he blacked out, but she didn’t give a damn. Tears of rage clouded her vision as she pushed his dead weight in front of the open door, then got behind him and pushed some more. He was in such pain, he offered little resistance. When she positioned him on the other side, she forced the door shut and turned the dead bolt.

  Jack moaned. His muffled words spewed out through agonizing puffs of breaths. “Call the police, bitch…and everyone will see…the other pictures…I have of you.”

  “The other pictures?” How many did Jack take while she lay drugged and unconscious? And what did he do to her during that time? She wouldn’t let him get away with this. She started to call 911, then put down the phone. If she called the police, she’d have to tell them about the pictures. That would surely make the papers. What should she do?

  She thought of Alex.

  “If Jack Davidson bothers you again, call me.”

  She sat on the sofa, unable to function. She didn’t know how much time had passed before she dug Alex’s card from her purse and stared at it. And kept staring.

  Chapter Five

  It’s Time, Alex

  Alex pulled into the parking lot of Harbor House, Max’s restaurant. He didn’t need someone to talk to as much as he needed a diversion from thoughts of the woman whose lingering fragrance still filled his senses, whose dark blue eyes seared into his brain.

  He took a stool at the bar. “Max here?” he asked Rocky, the bartender.

  “He’s in his office, but he has someone with him.”

  “Man or woman?” Alex asked.

  “Male model,” Rocky said with a waggle of his brows. “He’s…interviewing.”

  One of Max’s enterprises was a glossy magazine fashioned after Hustler. Nothing raunchy enough to bring the cops to his door in today’s free-speech climate, but a couple of religious groups made a stink after the parents of an underage model brought a lawsuit. Max claimed not to know. Alex believed him after seeing the young lady. Sixteen going on thirty. The parents dropped the suit and signed a release after Alex paid them a considerable amount of money. He’d determined it was a setup from the start, but he refused to pursue it to avoid making the papers. With law enforcement eager to pin something on him, the last thing Max Carpathian needed was publicity.

  Max paid Alex big bucks to solve problems, and Alex did it well. On his advice, Max tightened restrictions on who he hired after that. Alex also advised Max to verify that his sexual partners of both genders were of legal age. Alex could advise; he couldn’t enforce.

  He tired of waiting, thought he’d passed enough time to be able to sleep without thinking. He rose to leave when a rough-looking biker type pushed through Max’s office door. Dressed in black leather pants and sleeveless leather vest, the guy displayed a mural of tattoos on his buff arms. A ponytail hung halfway down his back, topped off by a bandanna tied around his forehead. He caught Alex looking him over and smiled a more than friendly smile. Alex turned away, traded a glance with Rocky, and finished his drink. When the biker left the restaurant, Alex headed toward the office. Max sat behind his desk, the picture of fulfillment, wafting a snifter of deep amber liquor beneath his nose.

  “Now there’s a change of pace, Max. Doing a spread on bikers and their babes?”

  Alex poured a scotch from the bar and reclined into the depths of the soft leather chair in front of the desk.

  “You saw him, huh? Jealous?”

  Alex always wondered what would happen if he ever called Max’s bluff and said he’d go to bed with him. But that would never happen. As close as they were, Alex would never reveal his private side to Max. To anyone. His response was always the same. None.

  “You can’t tell anymore, can you?” Max said. “Who’d’ve thought that guy was gay? Name’s Rip Cord. Looks like a Hell’s Angel, doesn’t he?”

  “Nothing says a biker can’t be gay.”

  Max looked like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. “How was your evening at the museum?”

  “Quite interesting, actually. Too bad you didn’t want to go. You’d have enjoyed it. Mr. Louis outdid himself. His dinner was superb.”

  “I wasn’t in the mood. Glad Selene could accompany you. She usually attends those things, but they were sold out by the time she made up her mind to go. It worked out well. How’d you two get along?”

  “She hung on me all night. I thought I’d have to pry her off.”

  “Selene is used to getting any man she wants. Y
ou’re a challenge.”

  “She’s not very aware of what’s going on in the world, other than who’s cheating on their mates. That’s not my type.”

  “What is your type, Alex? We’ve been friends since we were on our daddies’ laps, and I still don’t know you. Half the city thinks we’re lovers; the other half knows we are.”

  “They can think whatever they want. I couldn’t care less. My business is my business.”

  “Your lack of insecurity never ceases to amaze me.” He sipped his drink. “So what made the evening so interesting?”

  Alex wouldn’t tell Max about Charlotte. He’d never hear the end of it. “Jack Davidson was there with his girlfriend.”

  “You mean Candy the stripper? Now there’s a match made in heaven. Jack dated a real classy number who owns a store on Newbury Street for about half a year. Okay pretty, but she had a pair of tits on her that put Candy’s implants to shame. And the asshole dumped her a few months ago. Shows how dumb he is.”

  Alex’s stomach turned. Of course Max would know about Jack’s girlfriends. Max knew everything about people like Jack who owed him six figures. Alex wanted to defend Charlotte, to call down Max for his vulgarity, but it would be completely out of character. His friend would see through him in a split second.

  “We had a little run-in when I saved a young lady from his unwanted advances. He didn’t know who I was and actually threatened to sic his lawyer on me. I gave him my card and said fine. One look at my name and he almost stroked out.”

  Max broke into raucous laughter. “I bet he did. I doubt you mentioned his debt.”

  “That’s not my job. You have muscle for those things.”

  “That I do.”

  “Saw Mike Branigan there too.” Max stopped in mid-drink. Alex thought that strange. Why would Branigan’s name give Max pause? “Something I should know about?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I mentioned Branigan, and you went catatonic.”

  “Nothing for you to worry about. Remember, you have limits.”

  That meant Max had something going with the head of the Department of Economic Development. Max was right. Alex didn’t want to know what. “That I do.” He finished off his scotch and rose. “Gotta go.”

  “I have a feeling you didn’t tell me everything about tonight. You’re usually unreadable, but I saw a flicker of―what?―interest? Maybe distress?”

  “Indigestion. Mr. Louis is the best, but he uses too much butter. Later, Max.”

  He went to the bar. “Got a telephone book, Rocky?”

  “Sure.” The bartender handed Alex the book, and he flipped through the pages to get the number he wanted, glad it wasn’t unlisted. He plugged it into his phone’s address book, unsure he’d ever use it, then said good night to Rocky and strode to his car.

  Max knew him too well, which was why he’d never mention Charlotte. But when the reference to her and Davidson came up, Alex reacted. Max saw it.

  Charlotte Stone had broken through a barrier tonight that he’d erected seventeen years ago. He’d been so close to taking her, to devouring her right in the entryway of her building. Christ, he’d smelled the musky scent of his own arousal as if he were some animal on the prowl. Either he’d have to forcefully rid her from his mind―put her behind that protective wall―or he’d have to act on his desire and go where he swore he’d never go. He checked his watch.

  It’s time, Alex. You’ve held back far too long. He put his car in gear and was leaving the parking lot when his cell rang.

  “Alex?”

  He could hardly hear his name through her sobs. “Charlotte? Is that you?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “What’s the matter?”

  “Jack was waiting in my apartment,” she said in a ragged voice. “He tried to rape me. I wanted to call the police, but he has pictures of me. Nasty pictures.”

  Alex’s voice turned calm and steady. “Where is he now?”

  “I kicked him in the groin and got him out the door.”

  “Okay, listen to me, Charlotte.” She didn’t answer. “Are you listening?”

  She sniffed out a, “Yes, I’m listening.”

  “Is he still outside your door?”

  “I don’t know. It happened half an hour ago. I’ve been sitting here wondering what to do. I don’t hear him, but I won’t open the door to find out if he’s gone.”

  “No,” Alex said more forcefully. “Don’t open it until you know it’s me. I’m on my way.”

  Chapter Six

  To the Rescue

  Nude and still shaking, Charlotte picked up her clothes and hopped into a hot shower to get the slimy residue of Jack off her body. She dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt. A million things crossed her mind.

  The key. Jack still had one. She needed to change the locks, put in an alarm system. She had one for the store.

  The pictures. He’d be vengeful enough to send his disgusting photos to some sleazy rag, and she’d be on the front page for all to see. How would her customers react if they saw that? She’d be the talk of the town. She’d lose business, everything she worked so hard for. She didn’t know how much time had passed while she sat rigid, forcing down the rage and fear of what Jack had done and what he said he’d do.

  How could she trust what just happened to an almost total stranger? But she couldn’t call the police. Dropping her head into her hands, she wanted to cry, but that was what the old Charlotte would do. Her face stung from Jack’s slap; bruises circled her wrists. She’d never experienced anything so ugly in her life. She allowed herself a shiver thinking about it.

  Before long, the buzzer sounded, and Alex’s voice came over the intercom. She opened the door and without thinking collapsed into his arms. His strong embrace broke down her resistance, and she released a waterfall of tears, wetting the collar of his tux.

  He held her, gently rubbing her back. “Shh,” he said in a quiet, comforting tone. “Let me look at you.” He leaned back and inspected her. “He hit you?”

  She nodded, sniffed. “It was awful. He pushed me up against the door and held my wrists over my head. He pawed me, then pulled up my dress and forced himself on me, sticking―” She swallowed hard. “I took a shower to wash off his stink.”

  “I’ve searched the area. He’s gone. I was hoping he’d still be here.” He pulled her to him again and held her close, whispering softly in her ear. “Everything will be all right.” He removed his handkerchief from his jacket and wiped her eyes. “How did he get in?”

  “He had a key. He must have copied mine somehow when we were dating. He can get in, Alex. Until I have the locks changed, he can get in here.”

  “You have a dead bolt, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I leave, you lock the door from the inside and put on the safety chain. Understand? I’ll have a locksmith over here first thing in the morning to put in a double lock. In fact, I’ll call him right now.” Alex punched a number into his cell phone and told whoever answered what he needed. “Eight thirty?” He looked at Charlotte for approval. She nodded, and Alex okayed it with the locksmith and hung up.

  “Come, sit down. Do you have any brandy?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Just wine.”

  Alex walked her to the sofa and sat her down. “Where is it?”

  “There’s an open bottle on the kitchen counter.”

  “I’ll be right back. Sit right there and don’t worry.”

  “How can I not worry? I’m pissed, but more than that I’m frightened. If I hadn’t kicked him in the nuts, I really think he would have hurt me.” She wanted to break down again, but once was enough. She gathered her composure. “Oh God, it was ugly. What am I going to do? He’s going to show those pictures all over town. He said he’d send them to the newspapers.”

  Alex came back with a glass of wine and handed it to her. “He won’t. I promise.” He made her look at him. “Do you trust me?”

  Did she? She’d a
lready decided no man was trustworthy, and now she considered putting her trust in this man she hardly knew? He seemed so calm. How could he be so calm when her whole world was falling apart?

  “Do you?” he repeated.

  What choice did she have? She nodded. “Yes, but you can’t stop him.”

  “Do you want those pictures out into the open?”

  The thought horrified her. “No, of course not.”

  “Then let me take care of it. Jack’s back is up against the wall. He’s in a bad position, and he’s desperate.”

  “What do you mean, up against the wall?”

  Alex hesitated as if he were thinking of whether or not to answer. “You know Jack gambles, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I’ve seen him play. He usually loses.”

  “Well, he’s lost big-time, and now he owes my boss a lot of money.”

  “So what was he going to use those pictures for? Blackmail? He knows I don’t have any money. It’s all tied up in this building.”

  “No, for you I believe it was sexual power. He thought you’d do whatever he wanted to keep him from exposing the photos. If he did that to you, I wonder how many others he’s targeted.” Alex brushed her hair off her face. “Just promise me you won’t worry.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Now tell me about the pictures.”

  Embarrassment heated her face. “The last night I was with Jack, we were up in his attic room, you know, um―”

  Yeah, Alex knew because he knew Jack. “Go on.” He sat down beside her. “Tell me everything that happened. Don’t leave anything out.”

  She went through the story, even what Jack did, although she couldn’t look at Alex when she told him. “I never knew what he’d done in that room. I woke up groggy, cuffed to the bed. I was mad but fine. When I got home, I noticed my breasts were bruised, but I thought…I don’t know what I thought. We had―” She buried her face in her palms.

  “You had sex, maybe a little rougher than usual,” he said, “and you thought it happened then.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”