SeductiveIntent

by Angela Claire

  She sat up and in the process began to retie her top. Clearly, he’d made some horrible tactical error in giving her an orgasm. First, anyway.

  * * * * *

  “Is that you, Allie? I’m having a tough time trying to get this train fastened back up. I just can’t reach it.”

  He closed the door. “Well, I’m a little rusty on the train front, but I’ll give it a try.”

  Virginia looked over her shoulder and laughed. “Aaron! You’re not going to be of any use here. Go get one of my sisters, please.”

  “Oh, I see how it is. Married less than an hour or so and already I’m of no use. Next thing I know you’ll be claiming you have a headache.”

  “If I ever do that, I’ll have to have my head examined. But really, Brendan was supposed to get Allie.”

  “I think he had his mind on other things. He gave me the message to meet you up here and then he headed back to some tall, dark-haired girl.”

  “Yeah, I saw her. Who was she?”

  “No idea.”

  “Not an old girlfriend?”

  “Of mine? Hell no. I didn’t exactly invite any of them to the wedding. I just assumed she came with Brendan.”

  “I doubt it. He has this thing about not bringing dates to weddings.”

  “Why are we talking about your brother at all?” He came up behind her and kissed her nape, left bare by her upswept hair. “Let’s just have a quickie.”

  “On our wedding day?” she asked in apparent horror, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Wait, that didn’t come out quite right.”

  She flashed him an exasperated smile. In her defense, it wasn’t exactly as if they hadn’t made love recently. As recently as last night as a matter of fact. But this was their wedding day. They were married. Something he had never thought he’d be in other than the most technical sense. Not like this. Not like giving his—okay, say it—his heart so fully to this other human being.

  “Don’t you want to?” he whispered in her ear, pulling her fully up against him, her ass in the white silk cushioning his hardening cock.

  “Of course I want to,” she moaned. “I always want to with you, as you very well know.”

  “Husband,” he urged. “Call me husband.”

  “Husband,” she whispered, arching back against him for a minute, causing that flash of pleasure that always preceded sex with Virginia. Like a faint but very nice foreshadowing of the incredible passion they would share.

  But then she pulled away. “Unfortunately, this dress is as good as a chastity belt, I’m afraid. I couldn’t possibly take it off and put it on again, Aaron. There are a million little hooks and bells and whistles. Our reception would be over by then and we have guests.”

  He tutted in an exaggerated way, leading her over to the vanity against the wall. “You leave everything to me, Mrs. Winston.”

  “I’m keeping my own name,” she reminded him.

  “Yes, yes, yes. So bossy. Now, put your hands here.” He positioned her without waiting for her to do so, placing her palms one on each side of the surface, which was low enough that she had to bend over slightly. “Hmm, very nice.” The vanity mirror reflected the movement, with the angle causing Virginia’s very ample breasts to spill out over what standing up had been a demure neckline. Catching her eyes in the mirror, he moved to stand behind her, slowly and deliberately raising the hem of the elaborate dress until it was bunched at her waist and flowing over her hips.

  His hands went to her ass, fondling, and in the mirror he saw Virginia’s eyelids start to drop.

  “Keep your eyes open,” he demanded, adding, “wife.”

  She obeyed with a wry twist to her lips. “I’m only letting you order me around because this is our wedding day.”

  He laughed, and then dropped his own eyes, gripping her hips to pull her closer. “Oh, I wish you could see this picture, Virginia. Your fine, beautiful ass stuck out for me.”

  He saw her blush, incredibly, and laughed again. Running his hands along the silk of her panties, he murmured, “Oh, we can’t have these, though.” Slipping them down to mid-thigh bared her cheeks to him, but kept her legs too tight together.

  He ripped.

  “Aaron!”

  “Shhh. We have to make allowances.” He threw the panties to the floor and nudged her legs open wider with one of his own.

  “It’s a good thing you’re rich because we’re going to spend a fortune on lingerie with the amount you’re always ripping off me.”

  He grinned. “Gladly. Let a kid up from the streets have his little luxuries.” He leaned down on impulse and kissed one rounded globe as he slid his hand between her thighs and into her wetness. Above him he heard her moan as he massaged her clit lightly and was sorely tempted to put his mouth to her sweet pussy and eat her out first.

  But he had promised a quickie, and there were a lot of guests waiting for them below, so reluctantly he came upright and undid his tuxedo pants, shoving aside his boxers to free his cock, pretty upright itself. Virginia’s gray-blue eyes met his in the mirror as he slid his cock in, her receptive pussy as heavenly as ever. She arched back into him, meeting his thrusts, their eyes never leaving each other’s.

  “God, I love you,” he muttered, gripping her hips harder as the rhythm overtook him.

  Her head dropped as he pounded into her, shaking the vanity, and with a cry he felt himself come. She cried out as well and while they were both still panting, their breathing slowing, he began to pull out, murmuring, “I promised a quickie.”

  “Wait!”

  He froze.

  “I love trying for a baby and all, husband, but you have to admit it is a little messier this way and I for one have no idea how to get semen stains off of silk.”

  Damn. He kept forgetting about that. He had taken to fucking Virginia barebacked surprisingly easily, his habit of a lifetime of donning a condom before sex easy to drop with the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. And the first time he had seen his semen drip down his woman’s thighs, he had felt some bizarrely macho pride in it.

  But he did admit it was messier.

  He laughed. “Who thought I’d be the more romantic one on our wedding day?” He reached for the tissue box, careful not to pull his cock out in the process. He took a hand full of tissues and handed the box to her. When she did the same, he could safely pull out, their respective tissues catching any wayward semen in danger of staining her dress.

  “I’m romantic! I’d just rather not box up my wedding dress with any DNA on it commemorating our quickie.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, I hope I’m going to hear something more romantic tonight than ‘hand me the tissue box’.”

  He had fastened his pants again and her skirts were demurely back around her as she put her arms around his neck, coming up on her tippy-toes in that way that drove him wild. “How about ‘I love you to distraction and can’t imagine living my life without you’? Will that do?”

  “It’s pretty good,” he conceded, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose.

  “Good. Because it’s so true it scares me, Aaron.”

  “It scares me too, but love means—”

  “Don’t say it!” she warned, laughing. “If you do, you’ll never be able to live it down.”

  “That’s what I love about you, Virginia. You always keep your head in a crisis.” He kissed her long and leisurely. He would do anything for this woman. And quoting Love Story was the least of it.

  When he lifted his head, he asked, “Do you want me to go get your sister now to help you with your train?”

  She pulled his head back down. “What train?”

  Their guests could wait a little longer.

  Chapter Three

  Sophia had never come with a man. Never even faked it. Ever. It was so, so personal. She was sure she was probably blushing right now as Brendan watched her, first with that kind of cool competence and then with surprise as she made her intention to go clear.

  “I, ah,
I just have to go,” she stammered. “I shouldn’t have come in here.”

  “But you did.”

  She tied her top firmly back into place. She supposed she should be wandering around the room right about now, looking for breaks in the wallpaper or paintings that might have something behind them. But she couldn’t. All she wanted to do was get out of there.

  “Can’t we spend a little more time together?” He laid his hand lightly on her thigh, over her dress even. But she shivered. “Are you sure you want to go? As nice as that was, it could be nicer.”

  She glanced down at his blatant erection. “For both of us, I suppose you mean.”

  Brendan laughed. “Ah, yeah.”

  She wondered what it would be like to slip that hard penis of his inside her. Why shouldn’t she? Why not? When he had lain with his whole weight on top of her last night it had felt so right.

  Sophia was worried she might just be the last twenty-something virgin left standing. She wondered if he would be able to tell. He’d probably never believe it even if she ’fessed up to it. It was hard for her to believe it herself. She’d had numerous opportunities to, of course, and Arthur probably thought she had one of those times. But she had never been moved to follow through. They were just marks. And greedy, selfish ones at that usually.

  She’d never felt this kind of longing. This need to give in. Despite it, she said, “No. I don’t think so.”

  After a second, he removed his hand from her thigh and reached for his tie with a wry smile. “Well, I won’t say I’m not disappointed. As well as kind of confused, frankly.”

  “Why? All your dates end with intercourse?”

  He laughed, draping the tie around his collar, but not tying it yet.

  “What? Why are you laughing?”

  “You just said it kind of stiffly, that’s all. Intercourse. And no, not all my dates end in intercourse.” He was lying from what she could tell.

  “Just the ones you want to?”

  “No. But they usually do when I’ve had kind of, ah, visceral evidence of a girl’s responsiveness.”

  His cell phone, which he had left on his dresser for the ceremony, rang and out of force of habit he got up to pick it up. Glancing down at the caller ID, for a second he didn’t recognize the caller. Kendon. Oh yeah, the private investigator. He hadn’t given that guy his number. “Excuse me just a minute,” he said to Sophia.

  He answered the phone, back turned away from her, with a muttered, “Fuck that Mandrake.” Not exactly into the phone, but the guy heard it anyway.

  “No thanks. I don’t go that way. But I have no trouble with guys who do.”

  “Mandrake’s not authorized to give out my cell.”

  “Don’t worry about it. He didn’t. You don’t think I can get a cell phone number if I want to? Not sure why you’d be paying me then.”

  “Fine. What is it? I told you to deal with Mandrake on the details.”

  “I will. I just wanted to let you know I found a bug planted in your apartment. Several of them actually. That changes things.”

  After a pause, Brendan prompted, “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning this probably wasn’t a random burglary. You were targeted.”

  “Why?”

  “I wouldn’t know about that. Unless you want me to try to find out.”

  Brendan thought of the girl from last night. Startled, he immediately looked at the girl rising from his bed. Targeted. He was getting some odd vibe from this girl, and it wasn’t the simple reciprocal lust he usually felt.

  “Yeah.” He turned his back on Sophia, reluctant to even mention her to Kendon, not that he could with her in the room anyway. He’d let Kendon do the investigating and he’d go back to what he was good at. “Go ahead. Let me know what you find out.”

  When he hung up, Sophia was walking around the sitting room adjoining his bedroom. A girl abruptly responding to his overtures was not exactly unusual for him. For one thing, he was rich and had no illusions about how that figured in to the equation. There was no reason to be any more suspicious of this girl than any of the countless others he had hooked up with over the years. Sure, her voice had been a little familiar, but he was probably imagining that. Her body type, as he’d noted before, wasn’t exactly the same as the smart-mouthed thief from last night.

  He wondered if there were ways to mask that, since he knew Sophia’s assets were a hundred percent authentic. And, by the way, fucking incredible.

  He really did a have a one-track mind. In this instance, though, it was completely understandable. He went up behind her, slipping his hands around her waist as she looked at his Matisse hanging on the wall.

  “No, it’s not real,” he lied, not sure why. The small Impressionist painting of a seaside was an extravagance of his and had cost him a fortune. One of his first purchases after his parents had died, it had been some funny comfort to him, to think of Matisse painting it over a century ago and him enjoying it many lifetimes later. Their insurance agent had refused to touch it when he had insisted on just hanging it in his bedroom here.

  “Yes it is,” she countered.

  His hands tightened around her waist, not denying it. “You know a lot about that kind of thing? Art?”

  “A little. I’m just surprised you don’t have one of Matisse’s nudes.”

  He frowned. “Sex isn’t all I think about, you know.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “No? What else do you think about?”

  For a second, he almost answered, her blue-green eyes watching him. But then the impulse was gone.

  “No, you’re right. That is all I think about.”

  She turned back to the Matisse. “I have to go.” Her hands were on his as they circled his waist, but weren’t pulling his away.

  He buried his face in the curve of her smooth shoulder for a moment. She smelled fresh and clean and…familiar again. Ignoring the thought, he kissed his way up her neck. “Why? Come on. If you can’t stay up here with me, at least we can have a dance downstairs together.” He started to sway her subtly, feeling her fine ass against his crotch in an exceedingly pleasant way. “Or we can have a dance right here.”

  She pulled out of his arms. “I have to go. I do feel funny about being up here with you during your sister’s wedding.”

  “Why?”

  “I just do.”

  Since she didn’t appear to be very good at answering questions, he didn’t bother with any more.

  He had an idea. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

  At the very last second as he closed the door behind him, he wondered if he should be leaving her alone with the Matisse.

  * * * * *

  Sam Kendon liked really rich clients. Sure, they were a little demanding and did annoying things like claim their cell phone number was some kind of a state secret. But they never asked how much something cost and they never complained about paying the bill.

  And they had lots of very interesting problems.

  Drake came back into the room. “Do you have everything you need, Sam, or is there something else I can get you?”

  The suggestiveness of the other man’s tone was pretty much a joke now.

  “Stop flirting with me. I told you I’m straight.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they all say until they’ve had a few shots of tequila.”

  “Such a cynic,” Sam commented. “And here I thought you were holding out for true love.”

  “That or a sugar daddy with a big fat wallet.”

  “Like your current boss? Is that what’s going on here, Mandrake?”

  Drake laughed. “I love it when you say my name like that.”

  “Really. Is Beckett’s legendary sexual appetite as varied as your presence here suggests?”

  “Jealous, lover?”

  “Beckett has a very straight rep. Is that something somebody could find out wasn’t so black and white? Because some folks might be able to make something very lucrative out of that.”
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  “I love how you private dicks talk.”

  “Come on. Is Beckett in the closet? Or bi? I need to know.”

  “Unfortunately, no to both.”

  Too bad. That would’ve proved a very convenient motive right off the bat. “What the hell is he doing with you, then?” he muttered. “No offense,” he added hastily.

  “None taken.” Drake shrugged. “The truth is I wondered that myself at first. But I’ve sort of come to the conclusion he’s just kind of a nice guy.”

  “How’d you even end up here? Last I heard you were in the UK, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah. My last gig was for this total bitch. She wanted to pretend I was her butler, but really was just into…well, never mind what she was into. Anyway, Master Beckett was at a party she was throwing and she found me with her boyfriend, who was so not into her, by the way, and threw this incredible hissy fit and fired me. So Beckett hired me.”

  “As a butler.”

  Drake laughed. “Yeah. That’s what he thought I was apparently. I played it straight, excuse the pun, for a while, thinking just what you were thinking, but it turns out he really did just want to give me a job. Then I felt sort of bad about it. But since I had no other prospects, I stayed on and do what I can to earn the ridiculously large salary he’s paying me. Until I figure something else out of course. You know me, I like to be useful.”

  “Is Mandrake your real name?” Sam asked idly.

  “Oh no. Don’t you go investigating me. I didn’t send some girl to sit on his stomach last night. Though I know a few who wouldn’t have minded doing it.”

  No, “the butler did it” would have been too easy.

  “Okay.” Sam shrugged. “I’ll do some old-fashioned leg work, as soon as I fix this apartment up with some real security. The stuff it came equipped with was shit.”

  “Needless to say.”

  “Can I have the key to the place?”

  “Well, Beckett did say to give you whatever you need. Besides, if I know you, you’d just break in if you wanted to.”

  “Needless to say.” Sam smiled.