Touch (Sovereign Book 1)

by BJ Harvey

  TOUCH

  Copyright © 2015 by BJ Harvey

  Edited by Lauren McKellar

  Cover Designed by BJ Harvey

  Photo sourced from Dollar Photo Club

  ISBN: Epub - 978-0-9941257-6-7

  ISBN: Mobi - 978-0-9941257-7-4

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Sneak Preview: Taste

  About the Author

  Author Links

  Other Books by BJ Harvey

  It started as a flight from Seattle to Vegas. An easy two-hour trip at the request of my mom’s boyfriend, Gavin—the man who’d healed her heart after my father's death five years ago.

  The trip was short notice, and Mom had no idea I was coming. Gavin had promised to take care of everything—a car from the airport, a hotel room on the Strip, and lunch reservations for Saturday where he would pop the question. He’d made it very clear that all I had to do was catch the flight, and he’d take care of the rest. He told me he didn’t want his future step daughter to have to worry about anything.

  Gavin was the owner of the Sovereign Hotel, the biggest and brightest star on the Las Vegas Strip. It meant that taking care of my accommodation details was not exactly a hard task for him but I was more than just a little excited to stay there.

  An impromptu vacation wasn’t exactly on my radar. With work deadlines and a new magazine title launching in a month, work was taking up all of my time. I was only human though and was definitely needed a break and Gavin’s invitation honestly couldn’t have come at a better time.

  I'd had plans to meet up with a friend of mine who was coming from San Francisco to see me—the kind of friend who would leave me entertained, happy and definitely well sated. However, my mother would always come first and I didn’t blink before accepting Gavin’s invitation. The hot sex I was foregoing was the only regret in my last-minute travel plans.

  Thank heavens for free drinks in the first class seats my mom's new man had booked for me. And since I took my seat thirty minutes ago, I’d already downed a glass of champagne, adding to the two glasses of white wine I’d had in the airport bar while I was waiting to board. It was fair to say I was well on my way to tipsy, or at least careless enough to return the desire-filled gaze directed at me by the sexy guy who walked past on his way to his seat.

  He was a very sexy, very fine specimen of a man with black slacks that stuck to his ass like Saran Wrap. His hair was as dark as the charcoal gray button down he wore, the fabric taut against his toned biceps. The shirt clung to his chest, covering pecs that any hot blooded woman would want to lick her way down on her way to the promised land between his thighs.

  Just from the way he carried himself you could tell he was the type of man to take what he wanted without apology. Precisely the type of man I craved in my drunken state. A man to use and abuse my body and then kiss goodbye without consequence.

  I knew he'd caught me staring by the knowing smirk gracing his lips. I’d never been a woman to hide my approval of such a fine specimen or to be embarrassed by doing it, but with the alcohol coursing through my veins, my confidence was buoyed. I continued to ogle him with lustful appreciation when his back was to me. When he reached his seat two rows ahead of me, he turned his head and smiled, a perfect white-toothed grin that I felt touch me somewhere deep inside.

  Gone were the free drinks in my future—my target for entertainment was firmly shifted to the man with the cocky smile. Once the plane was in the air, I wanted to find out exactly what this man was about, preferably via in-flight entertainment of the naked kind.

  When the seatbelt sign switched off, instead of people watching like I’d normally do, my mind started to imagine all of the creative ways I could pleasure that man. One look and I was putty in his hands, and the cocky bastard had known it—something that became very evident when the flight attendant appeared next to me with a dirty martini I hadn’t ordered.

  “Mr. Matthews in seat 1B ordered this for you,” she said as she handed the glass to me and walked away. Looking up, I tried to spot the sexy man who now had a name, but the high-backed seats made it impossible to catch a glimpse of him again.

  Never one to turn down a free cocktail, I lifted the flared glass to my lips and relished in the delicious bitterness. Ten minutes later, I was looking at the bottom of the crystal glass with a warm flush covering my skin and an unmistakable ache between my legs. An ache that only a hard pulsing cock thrusting inside me could fix.

  I racked my brain for a way to approach him, needing to sate my desperate lust that grew stronger as every minute and mile passed. The clock on the TV screen in front of me showed there were only forty-five minutes of flight time left—plenty of opportunity for a shake-n-hump maneuver in the restroom.

  Just as I was about to get up from my seat, the inflight phone in front of me lit up, announcing, “Seat 1B calling.” My heart started to thump hard against my chest and I suddenly felt nervous as I lifted the handset and brought it up to my ear.

  “Hello?” I asked huskily.

  He chuckled before speaking. His deep baritone voice made my panties spontaneously combust. “Ms. 3F, how was the martini?”

  “Very much appreciated, Mr. Matthews.”

  “Made to your satisfaction then?” Hearing him say satisfaction tugged at my desire more than any drink ever could. His voice alone invoked images in my mind of his body pressing into mine as he whispered dirty nothings in my ear and thrust deep and emptied himself inside of me.

  “Anything dirty is always pleasing,” I replied, unabashedly.

  “A woman after my own heart,” he said on a laugh.

  “Not your heart I was thinking of,” I replied without hesitation; any ounce of decorum I’d had left had disappeared in the last sip of the cocktail. A gasp came from beside me, the elderly woman sitting in the next seat glaring at me in disgust when I turned toward her. Thankfully his voice in my ear stopped me from saying something I’d regret.

  “Now you’ve just proven that I read you right.”

  “And what did you read?”

  “That you’re a woman who knows exactly what’s she’s got and what she wants,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  “Not hard to pick considering you caught me checking out your ass.”

  “Indeed. I’ve always admired a woman who isn’t afraid to show her appreciation for my assets.”

  I laughed at that, enjoying the freedom in the way he spoke to me. “I can only comment on that particular asset, and it’s definitely one to be proud of.”

  “Duly noted,” he replied, sounding amused.

  “So did you only call to assure yourself that I enjoyed your dirty beverage?”.

  “I wanted to hear whether the voice matched the sexy package,” he returned.

  “And how do I measure up?” I asked

  “That’s something you show rather than tell.”

  “And how would you s
how me?” The conversation was headed in the right direction, but by then I wanted more, needed more.

  “That would take a lot more than the forty minutes left in the flight, Ms. Jacobs.”

  I gasped in surprise. There is no way he could’ve had the time to look me up, let alone identify me. “How do you—”

  “I’m an enterprising man, Alyssa. I make it my business to find out everything I can about people I’m interested in.”

  “A man who sees what he wants and goes for it?” I asked.

  “Precisely.”

  “Interesting,” I muse.

  “You have no idea.”

  “So, pray tell, how is this going to work?” I asked, interested in exactly what he might’ve had in mind.

  “How do you want it work?” he shot back, his voice dropping lower.

  “Oh no, buddy. This is your show; how about you make the moves and I be the one to decide whether to let you act on them.” Yes, my flirting game was in top form after that martini—just the boost I’d needed.

  “If I had my way, I’d be following you inconspicuously to the restroom in about five minutes’ time where I’d proceed to spin you around to face the mirror. I’d grip your chin and turn your face to mine so I could kiss you while my other hand disappeared up your dress as you begged me to touch you.”

  My breathing became erratic, his words stroking me like I wished his fingers were. “And then?” I whispered hoarsely.

  His voice went deeper as he continued, “And then I would run my index finger through your slick pussy, my thumb dragging across your hard clit as you bucked your hips against my hard cock grinding into your ass.”

  “Jesus, I’m wet now,” I murmured, turning toward the window for privacy.

  “And I’m hard as fucking steel from just looking at you.”

  My body went ramrod straight as I looked in his direction, and met piercing blue eyes that I swore could see right through me.

  Without breaking eye contact, I said, “I’ve heard it’s hazardous to a man’s health to stay in that state for too long.”

  He growled into my ear, the sound making me buzz with need. “Your mouth is making promises that should be made in person, preferably on your knees.” Even from ten feet away I could see his eyes fixated on my mouth, his look turning dark when my tongue darted out to run along my bottom lip. “And now I’m imagining your legs wrapped around my hips and my cock buried so deep, you wouldn’t know which way was up.”

  “You’re very forward,” I said.

  “And you’re irresistible.” Now my breath was all but gone.

  “I think you might be making empty promises, Mr. Matthews.”

  “There’s nothing empty about the promises I’m making. It’s just up to you how you’re going to let me prove them.”

  My eyes drifted away from his to the screen, seeing that there were only thirty minutes of flight time left. Definitely not enough to take him up on his offer.

  “Seems today is not our day. Definitely not this flight, anyway.”

  “There’s still tonight. Besides, there are a lot more options to consider.”

  “Such as . . .”

  “I’d like to propose a game.”

  “A game?” I asked, my interest piqued. I’d never been one to back away from a challenge.

  “That’s all you’re going to get from me until after the flight. If you want to know more, you’ll find me when you disembark and give me the chance to prove I’m not a man who promises anything he doesn’t intend to deliver on. Especially when made to a woman like you.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” I replied.

  “Not lately. No one has garnered my attention, nor made a flight this entertaining for a long time. You’ve distracted me from my work, Ms. Jacobs.”

  “Well, I’d hate to have it on my conscience that I was the cause of you getting in trouble. I’ll leave you to think about exactly what you’ll have the chance to do to me if I do in fact decide to find you after the flight. Until we talk again, Mr. Matthews.”

  “Alyssa, I—” I didn’t hear any more because I’d ended the call, a knowing smile on my face as I felt his burning gaze on me. But I didn’t lift my eyes toward his again. Instead, I leaned against the window and stared out into the clear blue sky with my mind racing.

  His words ran through my head like a porn movie on repeat—one with high definition and graphic detail.

  As a single, free-spirited woman, there was nothing stopping me from taking Mr. Matthews up on his offer. All I had to do was find him after we arrived, when he’d promised to show me he wasn’t all talk. The relationship I had with Aiden—my friend from San Francisco—was casual. It was never explicitly stated by either of us, but neither of us were in a position to demand exclusivity.

  Nothing noteworthy happened during the remainder of the flight. There were no more drink deliveries or phone calls, and the one time I did allow myself to look toward Mr. Matthews’s seat, he wasn’t staring back at me waiting for another chance to talk his way into my panties. No, he was typing away at a computer in his lap, as if his offer wasn’t consuming his every thought.

  Must have just been me then, because my entire body was ablaze with lust just from the few words we’d shared. I imagined him stripping me naked and bending me over the bathroom counter, in the plane, in a hotel room, heck—anywhere, and doing downright dirty and delicious things to my body.

  I was going to be in Vegas for the weekend—the city of sin. There was no better place to hook up with a handsome stranger.

  All I had to do was work out how to find him.

  I didn’t think finding him would be an issue but as hard as I tried, I didn’t see Mr. Matthews again once he got off the plane.

  After waiting in the terminal for fifteen minutes, I decided to give up the hunt. Instead, I made my way toward the doors leading outside to find my driver. I spotted a gray-haired man wearing a black tailored suit and holding up a sign with my name. I walked over to him and introduced myself before I allowed the driver to stow my luggage in the trunk of his black Lincoln Town Car.

  Once I was seated in the back, I couldn’t help myself. “Do you know where you’re taking me?” I asked the driver, hoping Gavin had indeed taken care of everything as promised.

  “Yes, Ms. Jacobs. We’ll be arriving at the Sovereign Hotel shortly.”

  He started the car, pulled away from the curb and headed for the Strip.

  The lack of conversation gave me the time to think about the mysterious Mr. Matthews. I didn’t even know his first name and therefore, had no way to contact him. Frustrated as hell—both sexually and otherwise—I kicked myself for getting my hopes up that I’d see him again.

  The way he’d spoken, the words he’d used to tell me exactly what he wanted to do to me—and how he wanted to do me—had me clenching my thighs together to ward off the aching between my legs. I really wanted to know more about the game he’d wanted to play. Resting my forehead against the car window, I sighed in defeat.

  Since I wasn’t meeting up with Mom and Gavin until tomorrow, I had no firm plans apart from ordering room service, and potentially going downstairs to the hotel bar.

  Maybe he didn’t want to be found. Maybe it had been a game. Maybe he was all talk and couldn’t follow through on the promises he made. I had no way of ever finding out, so there was no point dwelling on it.

  “Ms. Jacobs, we’re here,” the driver announces, interrupting me from my thoughts.

  Before I could move to get out of the car, the driver appeared at my side, holding the car door open.

  “Thank you,” I said. I took in the opulent glass-to-roof doors leading into the hotel.

  “Ms. Jacobs?” the driver asked from my side. Snapping out of my admiration of the stunning architecture in front of me—which I knew was an Alexander Richardson masterpiece—I turned to the side to see my suitcase and hand luggage being whisked inside by a porter.

  “Um…,” I said, con
fused as to why the driver still stood there. “Do I—”

  He smiled down at me, a common occurrence, since I was five foot eight. “Just the tip, ma’am.”

  I gave him a twenty and after he nodded his farewell, I stepped off the sidewalk and in through the open door to the Sovereign, my home for the weekend.

  I didn’t even think there was a word big enough to convey the sheer magnificence of the building. A huge white glowing S hanging from the roof like a custom chandelier illuminated the lobby, and a path of white marble tile encased in black granite flooring led the way toward the hotel’s reception where the staff were immaculately presented in all black, tailored uniforms. The women wore fitted pencil dresses, the men in matching tailored shirts, vests and slacks with pristine black dress shoes to complete the look.

  There was no doubt the attention to detail that had been paid to the design of such a masterpiece. As I made my way toward reception, I realized that everything, right down to the toss pillows on the couches and the signature decals on the lighting fixtures, had been chosen with meticulous precision.

  “Hi,” I said to the perfectly presented receptionist. “I’d like to check in, please. My name is Alyssa Jacobs.”

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Jacobs. We’ve been expecting you,” she replied with a courteous smile. “You’re staying in one of the penthouse suites.”

  My brows knotted together. “I don’t understand.”

  The hotel clerk standing behind reception desk looked down to her computer then back up at me, her forehead pinched in frustration. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jacobs. It states here that you are to be taken straight up to the seventieth floor.”

  “There must be a mistake,” I continued to explain, not expecting Gavin to spoil me like that. There was taking care of arrangements, then there was the VIP treatment. If my mother hadn’t told me about how good of a man he was and how well he treated her, I would have almost been suspicious.

  “There’s no mistake, Ms. Jacobs. If you follow Bart . . .” she smiled at the young man now standing at attention beside me, “. . . he’ll escort you to your suite.”