The Mount Series Boxset

by K D Grace

  ‘What are you doing here?’ At the sound of a sharp male voice, she shoved the chair back hard enough for it to hit the wall behind as she gave a little yelp of surprise.

  Busted!

  When he’d finished telling the story of his encounter with Liza Calendar in the lounge and again on the plane, leaving out the orgasms and the part where they joined the Mile High Club and the part where they sexted their way to … well, more orgasms, he added quickly, ‘You’ve just said you hate the new line, Coraline, and we’ve talked for a long time about doing a little experimentation with pheromones and the scents of sex and sexual attraction. If anyone could help us, this woman could. That is if you could get The Mount to agree to some experimentation.’

  Coraline swallowed back her espresso in a single gulp and blinked large, bright eyes at him. ‘You fucked her.’

  Christ! Was she really going to do this in front of Jim? Speaking of … the guy nearly fell off his chair, spilling coffee into his lap.

  ‘Oh for heaven sake, Jim, have you never heard of sex on a plane?’ she said, giving him her perfected “grow up” look. Then she handed him a box of tissues.

  There was a soft knock on the door and Alessandro stuck his head in, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Ms Martelli, but –’ her PA looked from one man to the other, decided on discretion, then stepped into the room and whispered something against his boss’s ear. Her brow rose, making her eyes look even larger under artfully done make-up, then a smile curled around her lips. ‘Really?’

  The PA gave a tiny little nod as though that might keep Jim and Paulo from seeing that whatever it was, the answer was yes. Then he glanced down at the note pad that Paulo was pretty certain was surgically attached to his hand and whispered some more in her ear, so quietly that Paulo was surprised even Coraline could hear it, but then the woman never missed anything.

  ‘Astonishing,’ she said, in a voice that could have passed for a chuckle. ‘Have them take her downstairs,’ she said softly, her lips nearly brushing his ear.’

  He nodded, made a military-sharp turn on his heels, and left Paulo once again at Coraline’s mercy. ‘Now, gentlemen, I believe we were discussing Paulo joining the Mile High Club with a woman whose nose could greatly benefit Martelli Fragrance.’

  Liza had expected to get tossed out on her ear. In fact it wouldn’t have surprised her if she had been told to pack her bags and catch the next flight back to Portland. What she didn’t expect was to be escorted between two guards, both built like football players, down to a sub-basement. Maybe Martelli sent the riff-raff out through the parking garage rather than the main entrance. The elevator doors opened into a hallway that was painted stark white with minimal track lighting down the center of a suspended ceiling. The place was deserted and silent except for the buzz of the lights. But it was the smell of lust with a sharp metal edge that got Liza’s full attention, and beyond that she could smell sex. In spite of the situation, Liza responded to the olfactory surprise with lust of her own, pepper-spiced and smoky. She chided herself for not being more afraid, more cautious, but the nose seldom misled her and, as the two guards stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, the smell of sex grew stronger. When they motioned her inside, she was surprised to find the room empty except for a plain pine desk with an armless office chair behind it. They guided her to stand in front of the desk, then one of them spoke in accented English. ‘Stay here, and wait for Fidelia.’ They both left. And she waited, standing stupidly where the two men had left her. She was just about to move to the chair and get a little more comfortable when she noticed there were cameras near the ceiling in the corners of the room. Her pulse ratcheted up a notch.

  She’d had just enough time to imagine the worst when the door burst opened and the woman who entered nearly took her breath away with her lusty scent. She wore the female version of the security uniform – a black pencil skirt several inches above her knees and a matching tailored jacket over a white blouse. Her dark russet hair was caught up in a chignon beneath a service cap. The whole uniform was just enough to be sexy and yet left no doubt about the woman’s authority. She stripped off the jacket and hung it over the back of the chair, her caramel and crème eyes locked on Liza as though she were prey. Her thin white blouse did little to hide the lacy detail of the bra beneath that cupped heavy breasts into a tight, deep cleavage. The bitter chocolate and coffee scent informed Liza the woman was turned on by being in a position of authority, and she was especially turned on that Liza was at her mercy.

  ‘Why were you in Mr Delacour’s office?’ She asked, settling into the chair behind the desk.

  Liza’s laugh was thin and breathy. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ It sounded stupid the moment she said it. Her inquisitor stood and moved to pace a circle around Liza before she finally said, ‘Try me.’

  ‘It was the scent. I smelled someone I know. Look, I realize this sounds crazy, but I can recognize people by their smell. I swear it’s the truth.’ God, couldn’t she just snivel and be done with it? Where her sense of smell was concerned honesty always made her sound like a loony-tune.

  ‘And just who do you think you smelled in Mr Delacour’s office?’

  ‘I know this is a tremendous coincidence, but I’m actually here to write an article on Martelli Fragrance. I’m Liza Calendar. I’m the co-owner of High Rising magazine. I’ve discussed the article with Mr Dryer. You can ask him. Anyway, I just got here and I thought I’d check out the office. Then I smelled Paulo. He’s the guy I met at JFK.’ She forced a breathy laugh. ‘I mean what are the chances? But I know what Paulo smells like, and I followed his scent to Mr Delacour’s office. God, I realise it makes me sound like a stalker, but I swear that’s the truth. I’m certain Paulo was there recently.’

  The woman laughed out loud. ‘Are you serious? Paulo was in Mr Delacour’s office? Do you think I’m a fool?’ She now stood behind Liza, so close that her large breasts pressed against Liza’s shoulder, so close that Liza could feel the heat of her breath against her ear. But the second before Liza could panic, she smelled the salt water and loam scent of arousal. Slowly, Liza inhaled through her nose. There was no denying it, no denying the feel of the woman’s nipples pressing enthusiastically into her personal space. The scent became spicy and electric as the woman ran one splayed hand up Liza’s belly then up to cup her breasts in turn, while the other pulled Liza’s head back to rest against her shoulder at an uncomfortable angle. ‘Of course the office smells like Paulo, stupid woman. It’s Paulo’s office.’

  ‘Paulo’s office? What do you mean, Paulo’s office?’

  Without warning, she kicked Liza’s legs apart in a motioned that forced her to bend forward and grab on to the desk for balance. Then she gave her a shove until Liza was sprawled over the pine surface facing the chair at the back, and the woman’s scent grew stronger. With a gasp, Liza realized she was smelling something other than the woman’s growing arousal. She was now smelling her own desire joining in the olfactory dance. The woman was still close behind her, her breathing quickening, her open palm resting, first on Liza’s hip, then moving down over Liza’s bottom to the hem of her skirt. Lisa’s butter-honey scent curled around Fidelia’s – wasn’t that what the guard had called her?

  The woman’s fingers scrunched up the edge of Liza’s skirt, and then she leaned down and bit her earlobe before she said in a harsh whisper, ‘Augusto Paulo Delacour, Ms Calendar. If you’re here to write an article, you might want to get that fact straight.’

  And this time the spiking of Liza’s scent had nothing to do with Fidelia’s roaming hands, but the thought that she had had sex on a plane with A.P. Delacour, the man himself!

  Before she could dwell on it, Fidelia spoke again. ‘The boss’s office is not a public play area, Ms Calendar. Ms Martelli employs me and my staff to take care of the sluts who come sniffing.’ She shoved Liza’s skirt up high enough to expose her thong. ‘That’s exactly what you were doing,
wasn’t it? Sniffing?’ She grabbed the elastic back in her fist and pulled upward so that the thong raked tightly along the splay of Liza’s pussy, and the catch of her breath at the sudden discomfort and the sweet salt scent confirmed the fact that it was more than just discomfort she was feeling down there. The woman’s growl of a chuckle told Liza that she knew it too, whether or not she could recognize the scent.

  And suddenly the threat of danger that the woman, who was far bigger and far more muscular than Liza, represented was subsumed in the peppery-sharp scent of edgy, kinky lust and, as always, Liza’s nose knew. And Liza’s intrigued nose wanted more. Before her brain could fully register it, her body responded. It took her a few seconds to realize that the little kitten sounds that echoed off the bare walls were her own. Fidelia’s deeper, big cat purrs vibrated against the back of her neck. She half expected the bigger woman to sink her teeth in. But instead, with a spike of picante sexy aggression, she tugged at Liza’s thong until she had forced her up onto her tiptoes. ‘Tell me, Liza Calendar,’ she huffed against her ear. ‘Can you smell my pussy? Because I don’t really need a special nose to smell yours, to know you like being interrogated.’

  ‘I smell you, yes.’ Between her efforts to take in the intriguing scent and the fact that the woman’s erotic touch had driven her pulse up, she was struggling to keep from hyperventilating. The smell of another woman aroused by her, the smell of herself aroused by another woman, and the smell of the two of them together was a scent Liza could have never anticipated, and certainly had never experienced before.

  ‘And do you like what you smell?’

  ‘You know I do. I can tell you know.’

  Without warning, Fidelia gave her a sharp smack on one ass cheek, and Liza yelped, then opened her mouth and inhaled the thickening cream scent. ‘You didn’t think Mr Delacour sent you down here for me to serve you coffee did you?’ She smacked the other ass cheek and it stung like hell. ‘You don’t get rewarded for invading the man’s private space.’ She dropped a smack on each buttock in quick succession, then squeezed and kneaded, but the idea that Paulo had sent her down here distracted Liza from the pain. Then it raised the stakes in the raging scent of aroused females. He betrayed her. He betrayed their secret or else how would this woman know? But then again she’d all but given herself away to the guards when they found her. Her focus returned sharply to the woman behind her, as she slid Liza’s thong down around her ankles and worried two long fingers in between the pout of her labia.

  ‘Fuck me, bitch,’ the woman whispered with a hard thrust, ‘You’re about to come already. What do you think? Do you smell about ready to come?’ She brought her thumb to work on the nib of Liza’s clit, and then another smack came down on her bottom mingling pain and pleasure. And that was all it took, she did come. Fidelia gave a knowing chuckle. ‘You like that, don’t you? You like being punished.’

  ‘Almost as much as you like punishing me.’ God, did she really just say that? The thought that Paulo might possibly be watching what the cameras were recording had her primed and ready for multiples. This should upset her, she told herself. She should be incensed, and yet when the woman brought her hand down again on her bare bottom, her pussy gripped and suckled Fidelia’s fingers.

  Fidelia’s laugh was harsh and throaty as she grabbed Liza by the back of her dress and pulled her up, then turned her so rapidly that she nearly tripped over the thong around her ankles before the big woman caught her in a heavy-breasted embrace and took her mouth with a full-scale invasion of tongue and teeth. When she pulled away, breathing like a windstorm, she took Liza by the wrist and guided her hand up under the pencil skirt. ‘You want to feel if you make me wet too, don’t you?’

  ‘I know I make you wet,’ Liza gasped, shoving her fingers under the edge of the woman’s satin panties. ‘I can smell how wet I make you.’ Then in a cheeky move she would have never imagined herself making, she returned the favour, a bit awkwardly at first – after all she’d never touched a pussy other than her own – but when the woman opened her legs into a shallow squat over Liza’s hand, Liza found the sweet spot and gave it a pinch that spiked the Fidelia’s scent to ripe apricot. Then she fingered her way into the woman’s slick gash that gripped and clenched like a hungry mouth against her thrusts. The scent became more picante, more briny as the woman approached her orgasm, and it was a heady feeling for Liza to realize she was about to make the security guard come. And when she did, Fidelia moaned into Liza’s mouth. Her pussy convulsed and trembled and drenched Liza’s fingers with her juices. When Liza pulled them out from under the woman’s skirt and thrust them into her mouth – into both of their mouths, they tongued and suckled and lapped the taste of come together.

  In some remote, barely accessible, region of her brain, Liza couldn’t believe what was happening, that she was performing for unknown watchers. How could she possibly be anything but horrified, and yet she was on the brink of coming again, when the woman gasped, ‘I haven’t finished punishing you yet.’ She dragged Liza around the desk with a hand fisted in the front of her dress. As she opened a drawer and pulled out a long leather riding crop, the scent of sex peaked with an edge of cold-copper fear as Fidelia tested the crop on the desk with a loud smack. Then, with her own skirt still up far enough to expose her panties, she sat down in the chair and wriggled her bottom against the cushion patting her thighs. ‘Over my knees, Ms Calendar. Time to take you punishment for sniffing around Paulo Delacour’s office.’

  ‘You had sex with her?’ Jim asked as he wiped the coffee from his crotch, trying to sound matter of fact.

  ‘Look,’ Paulo said, ‘it doesn’t matter if I had sex with her. What matters is that she can smell those kinds of scents. She can smell emotions, feelings. I swear I’ve never seen anyone like her. If you’re not happy with the new line, Coraline, then let’s get her onboard, involve those from The Mount who are willing, and come up with a new line, one that every man and every woman will want to wear because it’ll make them think of sex, because it’ll make them feel like they’re going to get sex because they wear Martelli Fragrance. Then forget the incompetent marketing firm, go with our own team. They’ve never let us down before, and they understand what we need.’

  ‘You had sex on a plane,’ Jim said, now brushing the pieces of tissue off his crotch. ‘I mean, you had sex on a plane because she liked the way you smelled?’

  ‘Shut up, Jim,’ they both said at the same time.

  For a moment there was silence in the room, and Coraline studied Paulo until it was difficult for him not to squirm. ‘She’s really that good?’

  ‘She’s really that good,’ Paulo replied. ‘And even more,’ he fought back a blush and squared his shoulders, ‘it was the way we … smelled together, the blending of scent, she somehow had an instinct about how it would be … our scents together.’

  Jim shifted in uncomfortably in his seat, but discussing the sex Paulo had just had didn’t phase Coraline Martelli in the slightest.

  ‘None of this should really come as a surprise. There’s a reason sex smells the way it does. There’s a reason every body has his or her own odor,’ Coraline said. ‘But it’s a huge leap from the mammalian biological need to mark territory with scent to making a perfume that can capture that territorial sense of our sexuality. You think she can help us do that?’

  ‘I think she’s essential if we’re going to get it right. And if we don’t, then there’s really no point.’

  She leaned over her desk toward him. ‘And does this woman have a name?’

  ‘Liza.’ He let out a long, slow breath. ‘The woman’s name is Liza Calendar.’

  Chapter Six

  Before Paulo could say anything else, Jim spilled the rest of his coffee and swallowed back a loudly whispered curse. ‘Liza Calendar? You … had sex with Liza Calendar?’ With each word, his voice got higher and tighter. ‘The Liza Calendar from High Rising Magazine? That Liza Calendar? She was on your flight?’

  ‘Ah, the
journalist, I remember now,’ Coraline said as though it didn’t disturb her in the least.’

  Paulo felt as though the floor would drop from beneath him. ‘Wait a minute, you know Liza Calendar?’ And now, when it was fucking too late, Paulo remembered too. He remembered why the name sounded familiar. He had grudgingly agreed to be her liaison, even though Jim had set up the interview and article without telling him in advance. He’d only been half paying attention at the time, and he was more than a little miffed. A major part of Jim’s job at Martelli was to take care of these sorts of things so that Paulo didn’t have to.

  Jim busied himself, once again wiping his crotch. ‘I know her through email and couple of phone conversations while we made arrangements for the article she wants to do. I told you about her, remember? She’s staying at Bernini Place.’