Amuse Me

by Lexie Davis

  I listened with a strained ear to their conversation while my fans continuously praised my work and gushed about how much they loved my writing. I’m grateful, truly I am, but other things mattered more at the moment. Especially things I couldn’t concentrate on hearing.

  My line shortened and Bethany finally left. Mr. Charming however stood in place next to me with his hand on my folding chair. “Nice girl,” he commented when the line finally ended. I think perhaps everyone who’d come to the conference had bought my book. If not, it would have shocked to me.

  “Yeah. A true bimbo,” I commented, bending down to get my water bottle from my bag. I unscrewed the cap and took a drink to wet my parched throat. I replaced the cap and dropped the water bottle back in my bag. In Atlanta, Blake had asked me if I wanted a relationship. I’d thought about it and my answer was no. I didn’t or at least I didn’t think I did.

  “Bethany seemed nice, not like a bimbo.” He squatted down beside me, keeping his hand on the back of my chair. “We need to talk.”

  “No. We don’t,” I corrected, smiling as two women gave us wondering glances. “You go about your business, and I’ll go about mine.”

  His hand stroked my thigh. “You are my business.”

  Okay, I should have been offended. The guy was touching me in public and calling me his business. Yes, I know I write for his company, but I wasn’t and didn’t claim to be anybody’s anything.

  I cursed myself for wearing a cute black mini-skirt that showed off my freshly waxed legs. Smooth, as a baby’s behind, is what the Chinese lady had said about me. Now I wished I had on denim jeans and a turtleneck sweater. Though, even that couldn’t prevent the reaction I had to Blake.

  His finger continued to tantalise me, working its way to the hem of my skirt underneath the table. Clearly in plain view, we looked as if we were having a normal conversation. As long as I kept my reaction to his wandering finger hidden, no one would notice anything abnormal.

  “What do you want, Mr. Lockland?” I asked trying to remain professional. I grabbed his hand before his nimble fingers slid to my crotch.

  “I wanted to ask you over to my place,” he said, his gaze intent, waiting for my reaction.

  “Sorry stud, but I have a hotel room.” I turned, keeping my hand wrapped around his, just in case he started to get frisky again, while I signed another fan’s book. I made my polite thank-yous and turned back to his amused face. “What?”

  “Stop being stubborn and come over.” Using the hand that we had locked together, he gripped my thigh before I could stop him. Delicious tremors of heat found their way to my pussy. “I’ll take you out to eat then show you around the city a little bit.”

  “No,” I said. He started massaging my thigh, running his fingers lightly over my soft skin, and I lost all reasoning. It was all I could do not to open my legs farther and put his hand where I wanted it to be.

  “Yes,” he countered, sliding his hand away from my body. “This thing is over in two hours. Meet me out front at eight.”

  As he stood, he leaned forward slightly and anyone who watched would have seen his lips grace my temple. If they studied my expression, they’d have known his finger pressed against my clit, sending delicious tremors throughout my body.

  I watched him go about his business over at the Quicksand Books table, charming the pants off hopeful aspiring authors. Any girl would be crazy—or gay—not to be attracted to him. He normally wore suits, I noticed, or dress clothes. I couldn’t help remembering—and picturing in my mind—what he’d looked like in jeans.

  The next two hours were pure hell. I had maybe three fans looking at my book, several old women sticking their noses up at me and two men who looked at me as if I were a piece of ass. I was alone at my booth this time and had to ward off the contentious requests for my phone number. I even had a guy ask me if I was a prostitute who’d do the things I write about if he paid me. Security escorted him away from my table.

  “Hey,” Blake said coming up behind me. “What’s the deal with security?”

  “I’ve had a really bad night,” I said trying to keep it together. “I just want to go back to my hotel room and sulk.”

  He stared at me, but I avoided his gaze.

  “Okay. You want to tell me what happened?” Blake asked. Outside it was pouring down rain, and I contemplated whether or not I could make it to my car without being soaked. Granted it was a rental, and I hated to admit it, but I couldn’t remember which Ford Taurus it was. There were five parked in the same general area where I’d parked, all of the same colour. Too bad the key chain didn’t have keyless entry like my Mercedes. I’d find that baby in a heartbeat.

  “A guy just gave me the creeps,” I said still looking out into the parking lot. “He asked me if I would do the stuff I wrote about to him if he paid me.”

  Blake didn’t say anything, so I turned to see if he was still there. He was, only his jaw was set and anger shown in his eyes. He was pissed.

  “Look, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll go home, take a shower and get back to my life.” I shrugged. “I’d have figured you’d know about this type of crap since you publish what I write.”

  He pulled me to him, his long arms wrapping around my body. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I pulled away from his embrace. “I know I might sound like a dumb blonde right now, but I can’t remember which green Taurus is my rental.”

  He laughed, hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Then I guess you’ll have to ride with me, huh?”

  “You’re sly, I’ll give you that.” Instead of fighting him, I went with it.

  He told me to stay there while he went to get his car. I couldn’t help smiling at the gentlemanly offer, considering I was going to get wet anyhow.

  I sprinted to his car where he held open the passenger door. He shut me in, and just as I’d expected I looked as if I’d walked into a sprinkler system. Blake climbed in the driver’s seat looking as if he’d taken a swim in his Armani suit. He didn’t seem to care too much though. He turned on the heat to fight against the chill, and before I knew it, we arrived at a fancy apartment building. I should have known better than to think he’d drive me to my hotel.

  “You know I pinned you for a nice guy,” I said as we drove through the parking structure. “But I’m starting to reconsider that opinion since you brought me back to your place for God knows what.” I knew what he brought me back here for and it wasn’t simply because he wanted to show me his big screen TV. And surprising me the most, I was kind of excited.

  “I am a nice guy,” he said, wicked intent showing in his eyes. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  He parked and led me to the back of the structure where the elevators led us to the apartments in the tall building above. His was on floor twenty-three, ironically apartment 23C.

  At first glance I thought he’d brought me to Oprah’s place. The fancy decorations surprised me for a bachelor’s pad. It was nicely toned in leather and neutral colours. Blue livened up the place, with decorative artwork hanging on the walls. A plasma TV hung on the wall with a very nice stereo with large speakers on each side of the entertainment centre.

  “Wow,” was the only word that came to mind.

  He smiled. “It’s just stuff, Meg. You want something to drink? Some clothes to change into? Are you hungry?”

  “Clothes please,” I said afraid to step on his very expensive looking rug.

  “Alright.” He stripped off his jacket, tie and shoes, leaving them in the foyer. He continued pulling off his shirt as he talked. “I’m not sure what I have in the kitchen to eat but we can always order takeout if you’re hungry.”

  The sight of his broad naked chest sent a fresh burst of desire through me. I’d seen it before. I’d felt him before. And I wanted him again. I swallowed my thoughts, hoping he didn’t notice as I too took off my shoes. I didn’t wear a jacket, and I knew my nipples betrayed me through my thin shirt,
but I ignored it.

  He smiled, staring at me and causing my body to react. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like I’m going to jump you.”

  “No but I might you…” I mumbled turning away from him. “Have you always lived in Chicago?”

  I heard his zipper and turned to see him shredding the last of his clothing in the foyer before me. What kind of defence would I have if he stood naked and I was hot and bothered, fully clothed? He looked up at me, and I nearly giggled like a schoolgirl. Dammit.

  “What? You’ve seen me naked before.” His smug smile charmed me nonetheless. “If memory serves, you liked it a lot.”

  My cheeks heated. “Go get clothes.”

  He shook his head and turned his nicely tanned behind, to strut down the hall. A few seconds later, he returned wearing long basketball shorts and held a large tee for me.

  “Bathroom?” I asked, not nearly as bold as him.

  He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Women.” He pointed toward the hall he’d come from. “Any one of those rooms is fine to change. Bathroom is second door on the right.”

  I trotted to the bathroom, flipping on the bright overhead light. The decadent blue room held the bare necessities for me to work with. My mascara blackened my eyes, making me look like a raccoon. There was a soft towel though that I used to dry my wet hair. Other than that, I had to go as I was. I slipped off my clothes, ringing them out in the sink then neatly hanging them over the shower rod. The shirt he’d given me barely came to mid-thigh, and I suddenly realised he’d done that on purpose. The only thing of mine I wore was my thong, and that was more of a necessity than anything—though it didn’t cover much.

  I took one last look in the mirror and unlocked the door only to run right into Blake’s hard chest. His hands clamped on my shoulders to steady me, but my legs threatened to give out. What was it with this man?

  “Whoa. You okay?” His smile was warm and I almost wished I could plaster a frown across my lips.

  “Peachy.” I needed something to cover my lower body. “Do you have any shorts I can borrow?”

  “Meg, really?” He looked at me like I was joking. “I ordered pizza. I need to take care of a few things, so if he comes would you please give him the money I left on the foyer table. It should only take a second, but it’s an important business call.”

  “I’m not answering the door wearing a T-shirt and showing half my ass!” I screeched “Are you insane? Pizza boys are horny enough as it is.”

  He started laughing, and I grew more pissed. I think he could tell, because he laughed harder. I tried to pull from his grip, but he pulled me closer. His lips were mere inches from mine and it seemed the world stopped turning. He stopped laughing, and I forgot what the hell had me so pissed. I knew he wanted to kiss me, and Lord, I wanted him to just as much.

  I leaned forward first, brushing my lips against his. There was a spark of recognition through my body that had my pussy aching in a matter of seconds. The memories of his hands on my body, the way his lips felt against my breasts—I wanted him again.

  He pulled back first, dropping his hands to his side and clenching his fists. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship?”

  “How could I not when it’s with you?” I was a hypocrite in my own mind. I loved the attention he gave me, and honestly I think I would have dated him if we hadn’t met under the circumstances we had. He treated me nicely, like I was worth more than a good fuck and even though the sex was awesome, magnificent, wonderful, he didn't make me feel worthless or coerced like Rich had.

  “So are we seeing each other?” he asked, his eyes studying mine.

  “Can we? I mean does company policy allow your girlfriend to be one of your contracted authors?” I leaned against the closed bathroom door, needing strength to have this conversation with him. I hated talking about the future—especially when I didn’t even know what I wanted. Rich had been my future for so long. It had been hard for me to get back on my own two feet and start to live again. “I’ll be honest, I don’t want a relationship like the one I came out of. Rich was more than controlling and it took me seven years to realise it. I played with fire and got burned.”

  His hand came up to my face. “Rich sounds like a prick.”

  He kissed me again, sweet and tender but no less passionate. I had no intention of putting my heart on the line again. Yeah, I liked men, and I liked sex, but I didn’t want to be tied down to anyone. I don’t like being controlled.

  “We’ll finish more of this later,” he said pulling away, rubbing his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’ll get you a pair of boxers to wear, how is that?”

  Fine, I assumed. It’s not like I really wanted to answer the door wearing his boxers and tee but I supposed it was better than just wearing the tee. I followed him to his bedroom, gasping at the huge bed that sat on a small platform in the centre of the room. Blue sheets covered the mattress on the massive king-sized wooden bed. It was the sort of thing a girl could fall back on and revel in the softness against her skin.

  “Here.” He slung the shorts at me, smiling as he caught my mouth opened, staring at his bed. “Do you like my room?”

  I nodded dumbly. “Does this whole ‘new relationship’ thing involve me sleeping there?”

  “Yes,” he said moving past me to grab his phone. “Now put those on and get out of here so I can get this over with.”

  I narrowed my eyes, “That’s a bit rude.”

  “Go.” He pointed to the door, smile still on his face.

  I licked my lips, hiking the shirt up to my waist as I pulled off my turquoise thong, watching his eyes dilate the whole time. My pussy contracted when his gaze lingered on my crotch. The smile left his face, and pure raw passion took its place. I bent down allowing the shirt to cover most of me and picked up my underwear. I flicked it at him, like a slingshot, hitting him square in the chest. He caught it before it fell to the floor, our little game taking a different turn.

  “Was that payback for being rude?” he asked, wrapping his hand around my underwear.

  “No,” I said stepping into the boxers he’d given me. “I’m just changing.”

  “Just killing me, is what you’re doing.”

  I glanced at his body. His shorts were tenting as he stood before me, slowly rubbing my thong in his hand.

  “Fine. I’ll leave you alone. Don’t be long though.” I left without another word.

  I waited impatiently on the black leather sofa for the stupid pizza boy. The apartment was too quiet. I thought about watching TV but it’d be rude of me to just make myself at home without the proper invitation. So I sat and waited until Blake came back from his bedroom.

  “No pizza?” He kissed my head as he walked past the sofa.

  “Nope. I think he got lost.”

  He walked around the sofa, plopping down next to me then taking my feet in his hands. He rested them in his lap while he began to massage, his fingers erasing the pain my four inch heels caused. I’d never gotten a foot massage from a guy, mainly because I’m ticklish, but Blake had wonderful hands that knew exactly what I wanted them to do. I leaned back, closing my eyes and enjoying his touch.

  “I like your pink toes,” he said, his voice warm and husky.

  “Courtesy of my favourite nail technician,” I mumbled, my whole body relaxing. “Did your business thing go okay?”

  “Yep. My sister officially said that I own half the company. I’m the one who will be making the decisions instead of her.”

  I opened my eyes, sitting up and drawing my foot away from him. “Wow. Are you going to edit and stuff like she did?”

  He pulled my foot back. “No. I’m not an editor, but I will read and have the final say on which stories my editors think we should print. I’ll say if someone is to be accepted or rejected.”

  “Oh, so now I have to woo you?” I leaned my head back against the couch, closing my eyes with a smile. The man had great hands.

  “You already woo me,” he said, pushin
g my foot aside. He urged me down against the couch, his hard body pressing against mine, while his amazing hands sought the empty place where I wanted him to be. “Evidently I woo you too.”

  He kissed me, while he plunged two fingers inside my body, I moaned into his mouth, a sound he appreciated as he moved his long, slick fingers in and out of my pussy. The doorbell buzzed announcing the arrival of the pizza boy but neither one of us reacted in haste. When Blake finally did pull his mouth from mine, he took his fingers away too, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean.

  “Stay here,” he said, standing. He disappeared for a few seconds then came back with a large pizza and a box of cinnamon bread.

  Whoever knew Chicago could be so fun?

  Chapter Four

  After dinner, everything blurred. One minute we were eating pizza, and the next my clothes were flying across the room. Somehow Blake carried me to his bedroom and laid me across that magnificent bed, soft as a cloud in the sky. His mouth covered mine as he pushed my thighs apart, feeling how wet I was for him.

  “I want to fuck you now,” he said against my mouth.

  I was beyond telling him no. “Go for it, big boy.”

  I arched my hips just as he thrust forward. Even though my last sexual escapade had involved him and had only been three weeks ago, I had to give my body time to adjust to his size. He held still understanding, using the time to tenderly kiss my breasts while his fingers stroked my stomach.

  When he started moving his hips, I sucked in much needed air into my lungs. The sweet friction of the rhythmic stroking of his cock as it slid in and out built my climax rapidly. It didn’t take long until I was there. I screamed digging my nails into his back, sliding them down to grip his ass and push him deeper inside me.