HiddenDepths

by Angela Claire

  He looked her up and down. “Does it turn you on to be treated like a whore?”

  “I don’t know. Does it turn you on to treat a woman like a whore?”

  “Only when she is one. When she isn’t—and doesn’t let me in on the fact—it sort of pisses me off.”

  She sat on the bed. “Yes, I’m sure you were quite put out by the whole episode at your father’s party. Are you planning to lecture me now?” She slipped off her shoes and crossed her smooth, bare legs, leaning back on her palms. “Oh no, that’s right. You didn’t ask me here for a lecture. You—how did you put it so eloquently at the hospital?—you wanted to fuck me again.”

  The word on her prim and proper lips turned him on, much more than if she had actually been the hired escort he had thought her originally. Not sure what that said about him, he asked the question he really wanted her to answer. “Why did you go along with it? At the party, I mean.”

  “You didn’t give me much of a chance to object, if I recall.”

  The unexpected response infuriated him. “Bullshit. You could’ve spoken up at any time. Instead you stripped when I told you to strip and climbed into bed with me and let me fuck you without breathing a word of who you really were.”

  “What difference did it make who I was? I was still a stranger to you and you were still exceedingly,” she pursed her plush lips delicately, “enthusiastic about the whole process. Does this have something to do with not paying after all? Do you feel as if you walked out on the check at a restaurant or some such thing?”

  “Wow. Great self-esteem, Miss Prentiss. Really.”

  “I have all the self-esteem I need, Evan. All the analysis too, thanks. But maybe you should try some. Analysis, I mean. I’m starting to suspect there may be some latent Madonna-versus-whore conflict going on in that handsome head of yours. Are you worried you defiled me by sleeping with me? Because I assure you I was perfectly fine with it. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “Perfectly fine with it.” He snorted, not even touching the “handsome head of yours” bullshit. “So you just wanted to fuck? Is that it?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Not for me, but I get the feeling you have a pretty uptight rep.”

  She shrugged. “You’ve been listening to gossip, haven’t you? Let’s just say I don’t like to be approached in the workplace.”

  “But at a party where you’re delivering your boss some papers, it’s okay.”

  “You were refreshingly forthright at the party, Evan, but I’m finding you a touch obtuse right now. What are you trying to get at?”

  He looked at her, hard.

  “Nothing,” he said disgustedly. What was he getting at anyway? That he was special to the frosty Miss Prentiss? That he had gone where no man dared to go before or some crap? Christ, maybe he had been on his island too long. Maybe he did need some psychoanalysis, a self-help tool he had always disdained in favor of picking up a hammer and nails and pounding away at something.

  He whipped his shirt over his head. “Never mind. You want to fuck? Let’s fuck. But if you really want to play the whore, you’ll have to do a little more work than you did the other night.”

  “I was under the impression you enjoyed our interlude. But of course what did you expect? You get what you pay for and it was free, after all.”

  He closed the distance between them, shoving her to lie back on the bed and climbing on top of her. “Oh I was perfectly fine with it.” He echoed her earlier words. “I like fucking whores. But I was in a bit of a rush, as you might recall, and we can elaborate on the scenario tonight. Let’s see if you enjoy it not only when you’re treated like a whore but when you act like one as well.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “How many guys have you slept with, Andrea?”

  For some reason, that question seemed to penetrate her cool. She colored, a dusky rose appearing on those creamy pale cheekbones. “Not as many as whoever you were expecting that night, I’m sure. Did she eventually show up, by the way?”

  He reached down to tug her dress up a little so he could better fit between her thighs and she widened them obligingly. “She did, as a matter of fact. But you’d already spoiled me for her.”

  One smooth brown eyebrow arched. “Given your vigor, I admit I’m surprised by that.”

  His “vigor” was asserting itself right now in the cradle of her legs as he held her hands high above her head, and he smiled. “I don’t mean I couldn’t get it up with her. I mean after you, I didn’t want to.”

  “You’ll turn my head with compliments like that.”

  He kissed her, slow and long and thorough. And she responded, tugging her hands free to bring them to the back of his neck, sifting through the hair at his nape, causing him to shiver. She didn’t taste chocolaty as he imagined she would have if he had kissed her at the hospital. She tasted fresh and clean and lemony, as if she’d had hot tea before she came here.

  Pulling back a fraction, he whispered, “I want to feel your hands on me.”

  Her breathing was low and fast.

  “Your mouth on me,” he added, kissing her again in soft, teasing caresses. “Would you like that?” he murmured. “That’s all I meant. I want to know you’re into this.” He led her hand to the buttons on his jeans. “So help me out here. I like to fuck naked. Remember?”

  She unbuttoned his jeans slowly, not dropping eye contact, and he relished the focus of her dark-blue eyes combined with her attentions below. By the time she was done his cock was throbbing so hard through his briefs he could have mounted her with them still on. He’d fucked her so fast and so eagerly last time that he hadn’t even paid attention to whether she’d come. He was going to remedy that this time. And they had all night.

  Though her long fingers were delicately strumming the length of him through the cotton, causing him almost mesmerizing shivers of excitement, he took a deep breath and forced himself to roll off her, sitting up.

  “I thought you wanted me to undress you,” she said softly.

  “I do.” He urged her to sit up as well. “Just not yet. I kind of liked the stripping part last time. You stripping. Let’s do that again.”

  She hesitated and he prompted, “Whatever worked for you last time, it involved you taking orders. Maybe you’re used to that with your job or whatever. I don’t want to speculate.”

  “Then don’t.” She showed a little more fire than he expected Michael saw. But ordering her around in bed appealed to him. He supposed he had more of the old man’s genes in him than he had thought.

  “All I’m saying is if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. You’re here. Just go with it. Stand up.”

  She did, after no more than a second.

  “You’re beautiful in that dress. Did you wear it for me?”

  “No. I had to personally cry off an appointment Mr. Reynolds had with the head of a delegation from—”

  “I don’t care where they were from.”

  She shrugged.

  “So you wore it for them, but you’ll take it off for me.”

  Her blue eyes wide, she did, leaving it in a dark shimmery pool on the floor. The dress might not have been for him, but he had the feeling the underwear was. It wasn’t the demure white she had worn under her pink dress at the party. It was red this time. Fuck-me red, although he had interpreted her white underwear as fuck-me white as well, so he supposed Andrea’s body in underwear no matter what the color said fuck me to Evan.

  The red silk was nice, though, the barest of cups for the bra and the slightest of strings for the hips. There was a tiny triangle of red silk at her pubis, which was waxed clean. He hadn’t been surprised by that when he thought she was a professional, but he was now.

  “Turn around.”

  He wanted to see how it stacked up in back.

  She did.

  “Oh, that is very hot, Miss Prentiss. Very hot.” It wasn’t a G-string, but it was damn close. He stared a
t the high white curve of her ass with just that thin strip of red covering the crack. He couldn’t claim celibacy this time as an excuse for his urgency. He’d had her mere days ago but he felt not the least bit sated. He stared at her and all he felt was hunger. Sharp. Insistent.

  He came up behind her, caressing each cheek of her ass before wandering the smooth skin of her back up to her delicate shoulder bones, kissing her neck all the while. “Take your hair down.”

  But he didn’t wait for her to follow orders this time. His fingers tangled in the smooth mass, doing it for her, tugging, dislodging, until her hair came tumbling down around her all the way to her waist in long brown waves that he smoothed and rubbed between his fingers. He turned her around to face him, his hands going to her breasts, fondling her through the cups as she sucked in a breath, before resting on her shoulders.

  “Go down on me,” he ordered softly.

  Whoa. He had no idea where that had come from. He usually didn’t demand a blowjob right off, even when he was paying for it. As much as some women claimed they loved the act, it was his own personal opinion that a girl had to be wildly turned on before she could enjoy having her mouth pumped full of cock. Call him crazy, but he was a sensitive guy. So he didn’t go around insisting on it right off.

  But his cock was stretching the cotton of his briefs, hard and throbbing, his jeans still open, and somehow asking her to suck him off seemed like the logical thing to say.

  Chapter Two

  An unfamiliar cell phone ring took her attention away from his cock, where she’d been staring as if about to obey his request, and she stepped away immediately to pull the phone from her purse and answer it.

  “Don’t—” he tried, but she was already speaking into the phone. And not in English either.

  Despite being in red silk underwear alone in a hotel room with a man whose cock was definitely engaged,Andrea assumed a kind of disengaged professional aura, as if she was in a boardroom or the office.

  And what the hell was she speaking? Languages were not his thing at the best of times. Right now, with all the blood going from his head south, he was congratulating himself that he could tell it wasn’t English in the first place.

  In an effort to calm down, he went to the bar and got out a cold beer. Some craft brew that had the word Bollywood in it. Sadly, he was on his second and she still hadn’t hung up. Maybe he should hold the cold can to his cock, since it hadn’t lost any of its enthusiasm. He tried to be patient. He tried not to stare at her shapely white limbs, the graceful shake of her long brown hair, the way she bit her luscious lower lip while she was listening to whoever was on the other end of the call.

  He took another swig of the beer as she switched to English. “I’m most grateful. Goodbye.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief as she tossed her iPhone back into her purse.

  “Sorry about that. It took me longer than I expected. My Mandarin’s a little rusty. It was more difficult to get the concept across than it should have been.”

  Who was this girl?

  “No problem.” He put his can of beer on the nightstand. “I should have offered you something to drink, though. Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you. I don’t drink. Now where were we?”

  He hesitated to mention. Her phone rang again.

  “Hey, come on,” he cautioned, but she went immediately to the phone, checking the caller ID.

  “It’s your brother. I have to pick up.”

  Before he could object, she was speaking into the phone. “Yes, Mr. Reynolds.” She paused. “Oh Vanny. Hi.” Her voice got a lot more relaxed. “You took his phone away from him, eh?” Apparently she liked Michael’s new girlfriend. “Oh no, everything was fine. Tell him not to worry about a thing. They’ll still be extending the export license and they’ll be saying a prayer for him at all of the shrines within a ten-mile radius of the factory.” She laughed as she listened. “Well, it can’t hurt… No, not at all… I’m sure you will… Me too. Good night, Vanny.”

  She hung up and Evan plucked the phone from her, switching the ringer off and tossing it away while she watched him without expression. It was an aggressive move more in keeping with one of his brothers than himself, but he didn’t stop to question it.

  “I’m supposed to be accessible,” she explained.

  “So be accessible. To me.” He grabbed her by the waist and, kissing her, twirled her around until they landed on the bed with him on top. Fuck the slow, savoring crap. He was going for it while he could. And getting a blowjob suddenly wasn’t enough. He wanted his cock inside her, with her fully engaged. Now. Kneeing her legs open, he nudged the little triangle of silk aside and felt her hot, wet pussy, shoving his middle finger in as she arched.

  “You like that, Andrea? I can call you, Andrea, can’t I?” he teased as he added another finger and flicked her puffy clit with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes drifted shut as he swirled his fingers around, pushing her thighs open wider with his other hand, feeling again how very tight she was.

  “When was the last time you had sex?”

  “With you,” she murmured as he worked her.

  “Before me,” he prodded.

  “What does that matter? You used a condom.”

  “I’m not talking about safe sex. I don’t think you’re promiscuous. I think you’re—”

  She surged up to kiss the last part out of him before he could say it. The feel of her little tongue darting between his lips as her tight warmth clenched against his fingers below almost made him change the subject. Almost.

  “How long had it been before me?” he got out.

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “It’s surprisingly hot when you say ‘fuck’, Andrea. Why is that?”

  She shifted her head from side to side and bucked into him. “Please.”

  “Oh, I like it when you beg even more than when you talk dirty.”

  He kissed her again, sucking her tongue, causing her to wriggle even more, but he clamped down on one of her hips to hold her still so that he could control the pace. He didn’t want her coming until he could feel it with his cock.

  Of course he didn’t want himself coming yet either, which meant he needed to get inside her soon. He slipped her panties, such as they were, off. “Shall I keep these too, Andrea?” He dropped them by the bed and reached down behind her to unclasp her bra, flinging it away as he stood up to shuck his pants. He had had a box of condoms waiting on the night table from the time he had gotten back from the hospital and he only wished he didn’t even have to take the time to unwrap one.

  Since he did, he at least had the opportunity to really look at her as she lay naked on his bed. He shook his head as he unrolled the condom onto his aching dick. “You’re perfect.”

  She opened her eyes with a little laugh. “That’s me. Perfect little Miss Prentiss.”

  Something about the way she said it made him think she was being ironic. As for him, he was being absolutely, completely serious. She was perfect. So much so that even when the condom was on, he paused to drink her in, the flawless fair skin, tiny waist and high, firm tits. Lying down next to her, he even refrained from pouncing on her right off to skim his fingers along her lithe thigh, her puffy little cunt and then her pale-pink nipples, hard and aching for his mouth. “You are perfect. Everybody thinks so,” he whispered.

  “And that’s the important thing, isn’t it?”

  He wanted to ask her what she meant. To talk to her. To have a regular conversation. He really did. But his body wasn’t cooperating. It knew what it wanted. Tangling his legs with hers, he came up on top of her and slid his dick inside, nice and deep as he could get it. Although she was still tight, their session the other day and his fingers earlier had loosened her. Even so, the grip of her warm, wet pussy was almost enough to make him come right there. When he moved, it got better but also worse. He had to work hard to keep his, er, head as he thrust against her.

  She tilted her hips
farther, moaning, and wrapped her legs around his ass, digging her heels into his cheeks as she strained against him.

  He wasn’t a talker during sex. Usually. But something about the sound she made egged him on. “You like that, Andrea?”

  She moaned again.

  “Tell me,” he urged, balancing on his palms, watching each expression on her face, though her eyes had drifted shut. “Tell me how you like fucking me. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  His body followed his words, fucking her in time to them. “Tell me. Tell me how you feel.”

  Each slide of his cock out of her wet pussy had her inner muscles clenching to hold him there, each thrust back in made him feel like a conqueror being welcomed back into the gates of the city.

  But eyes closed, she resisted his urging to speak.

  Abruptly, he pulled out of her and her eyes opened just as he came up on his knees.

  “What are you—”

  He flipped her over so that her perfect ass was right in front of his cock and she looked over her shoulder in confusion.

  “On your knees.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and tugged her up.

  “Oh.”

  Positioning her aggressively, he kneed her legs open, pushing her shoulders down so she was at more of an angle, her glistening wet pussy open to him.

  He slid inside, holding her hips, making her take him deep. Then he held himself there, motionless, both of them breathing heavily as he pulsed inside her. When he started up again, it was fierce and fast, the jiggle of her breasts as he thrust into her just visible over her shoulder. Christ, she felt good.

  “Oh, you’re so deep,” she murmured and he came with one last thrust, milking it as he felt her come as well.

  Collapsing on top of her, he kissed her damp shoulder, moving her hair from her face. “You really are perfect.”

  “I don’t like it when you say that.”

  A little of the clipped tone had crept back into her voice and he rolled off her onto his back.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not perfect. Nobody’s perfect.”