by Eva Luxe
“Yeah, but you come first. You’re pregnant, and just look at that belly, the strain you’re putting on your—”
“Dad, calm down I’m fine. You’re worse than Sam. I’m pregnant, I’m not dying.”
I sat back down on my couch, and my eye caught the image of Eliza again. “Come sit down,” I said patting the cushion beside me. “I need to ask you something.”
Her happy expression dimmed, and she raised an eyebrow. “What?”
I picked up the picture and pointed to Eliza. “Tell me again how you know Eliza? I know you said she was a friend of Sam’s… I’m curious to know how he knows her. She seems very fond of the both of you.”
She licked her lips nervously and sat beside me. “As I said, she’s Sam’s friend. I, um, met her because she matched us up, or I guess re-matched us up.”
A ball of shock and disbelief rolled around my stomach. “You went to a matching service?”
“Uh, yeah.” Wendy glanced at her phone and jumped out of her seat. “Oh God, I totally forgot, I have to meet Sam and Willow today at the—um—mall… I gotta go, see ya, Dad.”
“Not so fast, Wendy. Tell me more about your connection to Eliza.”
“I don’t have time to go into it now, Dad. Sorry. We’ll chat soon. Promise.”
I gave her a small smile. She was keeping something from me, but I didn’t want to upset her by pushing her for answers, she would tell me when she was ready. “Sure, hun, we’ll talk soon.”
“Bye.” She rushed out the front door without even giving me a hug, which was unusual for her.
If Wendy wouldn’t give me answers, then maybe Eliza would. And what better way to spend my time than chasing my perfect woman?
***
I stood outside Match de Amour and straightened my tie. I’d spent way too many hours imagining how soft Eliza’s skin would feel beneath my fingers, how her hair would feel tangled between my fingers.
Upon entering the lobby, a small group of females sat around filling out the same forms I’d filled in two days ago. The women all looked up at the sound of the door closing. Within seconds, they were all on their feet, licking their lips and popping their hips
“Excuse me, are you looking for a match?” one squeaked out.
Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by a small group of flirting women who looked like they wanted to crawl into my pants and devour me whole. Wasn’t going to happen because my cock was marked for only one woman.
I had to get the hell out of this little encirclement before they ripped me to shreds.
“No ladies, I already have a match,” I said, moving through the sea of women.
“Are you sure you have one?” Another lady asked sidling up next to me.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m happy with her too—”
Then another woman stepped in front of me. “Why are you here then?”
Now I was as irritated as fuck. Didn’t they take no for an answer? I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in anything they offered. Plus, I could already see what they were about. They weren’t here for a match. They were here for a sugar daddy. And they might find one, too, but knowing Eliza, the only sugar daddy they’d get would be one they matched with.
“Ladies, leave him alone. He is claimed… by me,” Eliza said, from the top of the curving staircase.
A murmur of disappointment rolled through the gathered group of drooling women.
“Hey, beautiful, been looking for you,” I said, quirking my lips into a smile.
“Is that so? Come right up, mon chèr.”
I made my way to the stairs that led to where Eliza stood. Beside her was her sidekick Lucy.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” I said, taking the steps two at a time.
“You visit me way too much,” Eliza teased, giving me a sly smirk from her red lips. Her hair hung over her shoulder, and her body was rip-roaring beautiful in a snug black wrap dress. And I was pleased to see the pendant I’d given her hanging between her breasts.
I’d meant what I’d said when I’d gifted her the pendant, I wanted her to wear it when I first took her. I wanted to see it hang between her naked breasts and bounce against her creamy skin.
Chapter Five
Eliza
Beckett prowled his way up the steps, his eyes locked on me as if I were a target. I liked being under his gaze, no matter how hungry it was. The man in front of me was my match, and every time I saw him, I was reminded even more of how perfect a fit he was for me. My algorithms weren’t wrong, not this time.
“Follow me, Beckett,” I instructed. I knew Lucy had filled him in about Matcher’s Island via email, but I had a few things I wanted to tell him as well.
We walked down the cool hallway, everything around us was antique cherry oak carved with the most exquisite designs and details. This was my paradise, my hard work, and walking down these halls every day reminded me of that.
I opened the door to my office and strode in. The spicy scent of Beckett’s cologne wrapped itself around me, and my nipples instantly stood to attention. As soon as he closed the door, he grabbed my hips, and I froze in place.
I swallowed hard. Did I want this to happen here and now? My body screamed yes. My mind screamed no. A war was being waged within me.
“I’m pleased to see you’re wearing the pendant I gave you. Do you like it?”
“Oui.” I lifted a hand to the pendant and ran my finger around the center sapphire. “It was very generous of you, mon chèr, but totally unnecessary.”
“I think it was very necessary. A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things.”
I drew in a shaky breath. He was too close, and I couldn’t think straight.
“Why so tense?” he whispered, his warm breath fanning my skin.
“Matcher’s Island is going to be the pinnacle of my career. I have a lot to think about. So much to plan.”
Beckett nuzzled my neck, pressing his lips against my skin, but I jerked away. The sudden affection startled me. My mind was winning the war.
“I’m sorry did I—”
I waved my hand telling him not to worry and glided over to my desk. There, I sat down and opened my laptop. “Come, sit down. Let’s talk business.”
“Isn’t Matcher’s Island supposed to be a vacation, too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and sitting down opposite me.
“Oui, but it’s also business.” I shifted in my seat. “There will be people prying for information, so be careful about what you say to everyone and anyone. They’re business savvy sharks and are always looking for the next great scandal and a way to tear me down.”
“Don’t worry. I already had that all figured out. You’re a big name. People are going to try to tear you down at every corner. I’ll be there to make sure they don’t. If you let me protect you, I will.”
Protect me? When was the last time, if ever, had a man offered to protect me? My clit fluttered, and I tightened my thighs to calm myself down.
Beckett looked incredibly dapper and sexy in his charcoal gray suit. He also wore a blue silk tie. A small whimper left my throat, and I imagined that tie wrapped around my wrists while he hovered above me.
I gave my head a slight shake to remove the salacious images from my mind. If I wasn’t careful, I would throw myself at him and beg him to take me across my desk.
“By the way,” he said. “I wanted to tell you, I’ve arranged our flights. I have connections and can get us private tickets on the Rosenbaum plane. I heard on the grapevine that some of your peers are flying to Matcher’s Island that way. It’s a direct flight with no stopovers.”
Impressive. Those tickets were harder to obtain than the rarest of diamonds. The Rosenbaum plane wasn’t nicknamed the flying yacht for nothing. It was luxury personified. “You’re very kind, but I’ve already booked our flights. Besides, the Rosenbaum flight will be hilariously expensive.”
“And I’m hilariously well connected,” he said with a casual shrug. “Cancel the already booked flights.
”
“Pray tell, monsieur.” A grin stretched my lips, and I leaned forward. My breasts slightly pushed up from my shoulders narrowing in. “How are you so well connected?”
“I help people and people help me.” He gave me a quick wink
That wink sent an electrifying jolt down to my pussy, and I jumped a little. I prayed to God he hadn’t seen my reaction, but from the way his eyes narrowed, I was sure he had.
“By the way,” he said, “after the Island, how about we arrange for more alone time? After all, we’re each other’s perfect match, and it would be nice to get to know you without the pressure of work getting in the way.”
“Let’s just see how we get along during the week at Matcher’s Island before we make any more plans, shall we?”
There was a knock at the office door, and I was all too happy to jump out of my seat and sprint to see who was there. Opening the door, I saw Lucy standing there with her tablet.
“Madame, the new couches are about to be delivered. You asked me to let you know when they arrived.”
Thank God there was something to pull me away from Beckett. I was used to being in control, but with him around I felt like the damsel in distress, and it left me more than a little discombobulated.
“Beckett, darling—”
“Say no more. I’ll get out of your hair… for now,” he said, brushing up against me as he walked toward the hallway. But before he left, he gave me a soft peck on the cheek and then vanished down the steps, leaving only a hint of his cologne.
“Oh, Madame, you two are quite the match,” Lucy gushed.
“Perhaps,” I murmured.
I followed her downstairs, and when she stopped at the back door, she sighed. “I’m very sorry, Madame, there are no deliveries today…” she said, lowering her eyes.
“What do you mean there are no deliveries? But you said…”
Lucy stayed quiet for a second, inhaling and exhaling evenly. “Please forgive me. I knew you didn’t have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Monroe today and I also know you’re tense around him. I thought you might need to escape.”
“Oh! Lucy, darling, what a lifesaver you are. I appreciate the escape, but next time, I’ll see his visit through, oui?” I patted her on the shoulder.
Lucy gave me a shy smile and agreed, “Oui, Madame.”
We headed back upstairs, and I gave Lucy some instructions to unpack the new crystal I had ordered for the next meet and match event. I then left her to her own devices.
Lucy was a little mini-me when it came to running Match de Amour. If it weren’t for her, there would be no vacations or weekends off for me. Not that I ever took a vacation and weekends off were a rarity. Work and matching couples always came first.
Beckett’s unexpected arrival and subsequent departure had left me on edge and made me crave a Gauloises cigarette.
A habit I’d tried to break many times, and mostly, I’d succeeded, but on days when my stress levels rocketed, I allowed myself a quick cigarette break.
Once outside the building, I lit the cigarette and puffed the smoke into the air while thoughts of Beckett jumped through my mind. I wondered if he smoked and if he didn’t, would he mind that I occasionally indulged, or would that turn him off?
“Hello? Ms. Rousseau?” a woman in collegiate attire stood in front of me and smiled. Her teeth were blindingly white and her hair fashionably highlighted. She was an All-American girl. She didn’t look familiar, and she certainly wasn’t a client. Her body language was confident, and I could already tell she was the pushy sort.
“Yes, c’est moi, may I ask who you are?”
“I’m Melissa Wynn. I’m a freelance reporter for the Bordoni Times. I’m writing an article about matchmaking in today’s society, and how dating apps have taken over. I heard that you’re going to the Matcher’s Island retreat and that you’re nominated for matcher of the year. It’s a big deal for people in your industry.” The young reporter clutched her legal pad to her chest. “I also heard that you’re bringing someone with you this year.”
“And you want to know who I’m bringing?” I took another puff of my cigarette and blew the smoke high in the air.
“There’s a rumor that you found your match. It’s well known you haven’t had a match since you and Mr. Bernard broke up. Are the rumors true?”
I shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“I’m pretty sure your competition would like to know.”
“What competition?” I said and gave a dismissive chuckle. “There’s no competition in my world. They think so, but they are very wrong.”
“So, any clues you want to give about your new match?”
I looked the reporter up and down. She was young, new and naïve. I would give her a tidbit for her article.
“Fine,” I said and sighed dramatically. “He’s the city’s best-looking man. Devastatingly handsome and a true gentleman.”
She scribbled my words down eagerly and thanked me for giving her my time before walking away. She seemed quite genuine, but I wasn’t fooled, there was a sly sharpness behind her cheerleader good looks.
After finishing my much-needed cigarette, I went back inside and saw that Beckett was waiting for me. I thought he’d left.
Mon Dieu, this man didn’t know how to quit. He was acting like I belonged to him.
“Beckett, you’re back. Did you forget something?” I asked. He had a different look in his eyes this time. “Didn’t you leave?”
“I was going to, but then I realized that you and I needed to have a chat.” He leaned in and whispered into my ear, “Show me where we can talk privately? I need to make something clear.”
“Chat? Make something clear?” I echoed, wondering what he meant.
“Yes. I have a few things I need to say,” he growled. His words went straight down to the skinny string of my thong. “There’s something you need to understand.”
“Very well. Follow me.” I bit my lip and led him down the hall to my conference room. As soon as the door clicked closed, and the lock turned, Beckett tugged my back to him and pressed the front of my body against the wall. His manly strength appealed to my primal side. To my kinky side.
“What are you making clear, exactly?” I asked, my breath coming fast and hard.
“That you’re mine, even after this little business trip of yours is over.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Is that so?”
He yanked up my dress to expose my bare ass and slapped it with his large hand. “That’s so.”
I let out a yelp. One that was a mixture of surprise and desire.
Beckett wasn’t done. While one hand smacked my ass, he used his other hand to explore up and down my body.
“Beckett, what are you doing?” I squirmed and moaned under his touch. His hands were everywhere. My inner muscles clenched and fluttered, and arousal dripped between my thighs.
“Tell me, what do you like, Eliza?” he asked, his voice raspy. “What turns you on and gets you off?” He pressed against me, the length of his fabric-covered cock delving between my derrière.
“Tell you? My, my, aren’t you man enough to find out what I like?”
“So that’s how you want to play it, huh?” He reached around and gave my clit a pinch, and in response my nipples pushed against the fabric of my bra, begging to be touched, begging to be kissed and bitten.
Like a man with all the time in the world, he slowly pleasured me, tugging my thong tight against my clit, making me moan for more. I was thirsty for his touch. The rougher, the better. My match would soon learn, I liked a firm hand and an even firmer cock.
Beckett snaked one of his hands up the side of my body and rubbed his fingertips over my heavy breasts.
I let out a shaky moan. “Beckett!”
“I’m going to make you mine, Eliza. Here and now, I’m going to make you mine, and you’re not going to stop me, are you?”
“No,” I gasped. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He yanked down m
y dress, my bra now displayed. Then he yanked that down too, exposing my nipples to the cool air.
“You like that, you naughty girl, don’t you? You like me being rough with you.”
“Mon Dieu, oui.”
He grasped my breasts and massaged in harsh circles. Aching for more, I pushed my ass against his groin and heard him hiss under his breath.
“I don’t know how much you’ll like me fucking you against a wall in your conference room. A lady like you deserves more.”
“I’ll like it just fine,” I promised. “And in this situation, don’t treat me like a lady.”
He rolled one of my puckered nipples between his fingertips and my pussy quivered, aching to be filled by him. The pressure of his hand on my breasts was driving me wild with desire.
Beckett dropped to his knees behind me.
“I liked your hand where it was,” I said.
“You said not to treat you like a lady, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.” He pulled my thong to the side. “This is what I’ve been dreaming of.” The sudden touch of his wet tongue between my legs jolted me forward.
“Oh, my, monsieur, Oh, my.” I scratched the walls, ruining perfectly cut expensive cherry oak and my hundred-dollar manicure, but, mon Dieu, it was worth it. My knees shook and grew weak as he lapped his tongue around my now very swollen clit.
“You’re so sweet, like wine and honey,” Beckett moaned into me.
I slipped further down the wall.
“No, no, darling, keep standing,” Beckett whispered, diving back into my pussy. He pressed his tongue against my clit, flicking it fast and hard.
“I’m going to come,” I cried.
In a flash, my body shuddered and convulsed as a consuming climax washed over me. I called Beckett’s name over and over again. My legs wobbled, and my pussy clenched, aching to be filled. Arousal spurted from me, and when I had nothing left to give, I sagged against the wall, breathless and spent.
Beckett spun me around, his face glazed with the evidence of my climax.
“I—Beckett—”
Not allowing me to say another word, he pressed his lips to mine, devouring me in a possessive kiss. Once again, my pussy fluttered with need. Despite the orgasm he’d just given me, I wanted more, more, more.
