by Kenzie Mack
He walked over to the two-way mirror. A man strolling by paused to check his hair. Constantine’s wicked imagination pictured Chloe’s pert breasts smashed against the glass while he took her from behind. His hard-on swelled.
Had he locked the door? A quick click secured no one could enter. For the first time in years, he needed the relief that only a fantasy and his hand could fulfill.
At his desk, he settled into his leather chair and unzipped his pants. Taking out his cock, he grinned like a school boy. A rush of excitement tingled across his exposed skin.
God, he prayed his dream woman came back soon.
He closed his eyes and pictured her on his business-only desk, legs wide and touching herself.
His cock throbbed with need. He licked his palm and used the drop of pre-cum at the tip for lube.
If she didn’t return soon, he’d end up with serious callouses.
His horn-dog fantasy and a steady rhythm brought him to climax.
The next time Chloe entered his establishment, he would do everything in his power to make sure his fantasies became reality.
Chapter Three
At her desk, Chloe yawned and stretched her arms overhead. A spreadsheet with yesterday’s figures filled her computer screen. Instead of her usual interest in the accounts, restlessness kept her focus flickering to the clock on the bottom right of the screen.
Ten fifteen became ten sixteen with an unperceivable blip. The sixteen would soon become seventeen. Numbers were reliable, even if her best friend wasn’t. Jill should’ve peeked her head into Chloe’s office by now. Her bestie would surely apologize for bailing on her at Midnight Luna’s for drinks and then give her a TMI dump regarding her latest sexual exploit with Kyle. Jill’s hot new boy toy was quickly reaching his expiration date.
A surprising jolt of jealousy caused Chloe’s mouth to pinch. She folded her arms tight across her chest. Just once, she wished to be the one offering a tale of a naughty sexual adventure. But she wasn’t spontaneous. Or adventurous. Or fun.
A lot of time went into vetting anyone she dated before things advanced to a physical level.
She didn’t do one-night stands. Never lost control. Never broke her stringent rules for dating. No kissing, petting, or fooling around until she learned the guy’s complete background and values. And absolutely no sex before the relationship reached the three-month marker.
Jill’s dating life arced in the opposite direction. Her wild friend wouldn’t go on a second date with someone if she hadn’t sampled the goods first. Sex on the first date was her norm. Unless the guy turned out to be a total jerk. But Jill didn’t accept dates from losers. Her beautiful bestie’s model-perfect appearance attracted men of means. Men with self-confidence. Men who never spared Chloe a second glance. Jill’s uninhibited nature and fearless approach to life offered Chloe a nosebleed view of true freedom.
A child of strict religious parents, Chloe’s repression and denial of her sexuality ran deep. If something came easy, it wasn’t earned. Only hard work and following the rules would ever bring Chloe to her happily-ever-after. Having fun and abandoning her code of conduct would lead to ruin. But sometimes she wondered if a little bit of ruin wouldn’t be educational.
Yes, she wanted romance and love. Someone to count on. A husband, children, and a house with the white picket fence, but the idea of letting go and giving in to her baser desires held an odd appeal today. The result of a stream of naughty dreams featuring Mr. Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous. She awoke hot, sweaty, and aroused three times during the night. Her mind clouded with images of his big warm hands doing wonderful things to her body.
Those colorful irises, his satiny voice, and the heat of his touch wreaked havoc on her standard eight hours of sleep. She’d dreamed of doing things with him that hadn’t crossed her mind during the raciest sex with her long-term boyfriends. Constantine was sensual arousal on a stick. Because anything delicious and exotic always came on a stick. Deep-fried Twinkies were a perfect example of decadence on a stick. Yep, the man was a six-foot walking, talking, and utterly sinful, deep-fried Twinkie. Good Lord, she wanted to find out how he tasted.
A tap on the hollow wood of her open door pulled her from her daydream.
“Good morning,” said Jill, holding a to-go coffee from the shop in the lobby like a trophy. “I’m sorry about last night. I bring a peace offering.”
The aroma of her favorite double chocolate and spice, emotional rescue macchiato wafted into her sinuses. The heavenly scent melted her annoyance and Jill’s wide toothy grin chased Chloe’s tension away.
“Gimme. Gimme,” she said, reaching toward the bribe like a desperate toddler. “I need caffeine, but you’re not totally off the hook for last night.”
“How about a detailed account of Kyle arriving at my door in only a trench coat and a thong the shape of an elephant’s trunk?”
“Oh, no.” Chloe couldn’t help but laugh. “He didn’t.”
“Oh, yes. He did.” Jill sauntered into the small room and leaned against Chloe’s Formica desk. “And the man would give any circus beast a run for the big top’s spotlight.” Her hands spread a foot apart.
“Get out,” said Chloe.
“I kid you not. The man is amazing.”
“I’m sensing genuine admiration. Could Kyle be the one man who converts you from playing the field? Are you two going steady?”
Her friend’s gaze rolled across the ceiling and her silence said more than any words of protest could.
“You like him.” Chloe’s mouth gaped. Was that a blush of color rising in Jill’s cheeks?
“With a penis like that, how can I not be impressed?” Her girlfriend’s words were meant to camouflage the emotions she’d let slip. But the truth was out. Jill was smitten.
Chloe tilted her head and studied her friend. “Wait, haven’t you gone out with Kyle a few times before last night?”
“Yeah,” Jill said, standing and backing toward the door. “So?”
“How can last night be the first time you’ve seen him naked?”
Jill’s blue gaze darted everywhere but at Chloe. “They’re short staffed on the sales floor. I have to run.”
“You really, really like this guy,” Chloe said to the empty space Jill had vacated.
Her friend’s long, wispy hair swung back through the door frame. Big blue eyes alit with mischief and a coy grin tweaked her plump lips. “He might just be man enough to keep me interested,” she said. Then she was gone.
In a sing-song tease, Chloe sang, “Jill has a boyfriend.”
“Shh.” Sounded from the hall, an air of uncertainty cutting the reprimand short. The click of her heels slowed.
Had the Earth’s magnetic poles reversed?
Could her card-carrying player girlfriend be entering a relationship? In the four years since they’d become friends, Jill’s sex partners never lasted more than a week.
Chloe checked the wall calendar. Jill had met Kyle twelve days ago, while they were out at the San Francisco Museum of Art. Perusing the women throughout history exhibit, Kyle had admired the same artist as Jill while strolling through the main hall. After spending the next twenty minutes together, he slid her his business card with a private number inked on the back.
In retrospect, Chloe realized that her friend had been rather tight lipped on their encounters. Was Jill breaking her rules and developing feelings for the hunky museum nerd?
With over a week already on their dating timeline, the old Jill would’ve jumped Kyle’s extra-large bone the first night. Instead, her friend had waited over a week for carnal knowledge of the sandy-haired man with glasses.
Chloe set her coffee on the desk and turned back to the door. “She didn’t offer any other details after mentioning the thong.” Her words whispered into the empty room. “No explicit information on positions, duration, or the number of rounds they went. Heck, she hadn’t even stated her standard one to five stars of satisfaction.”
Her friend was ha
rdcore into Kyle. Jill was falling in love.
Chloe stood and paced the eight-by-eight space. With Jill off the market, had the powers-that-be decided to balance the scales by having Chloe take her place?
The idea of a one-night stand with the man haunting her dreams suddenly seemed like a plausible option. She wasn’t interested in waiting around for three months of getting to know him before seeing him naked. His sex appeal radiated with such intensity, he wouldn’t want her for more than a fling. She didn’t have the skill or experience to hold an experienced man’s interest.
Constantine had worn a white shirt and dark pants like the waitstaff. If he worked at Midnight Luna often enough to be there “every day”, then dozens of women must proposition him. He probably had a different woman every night. Sex whenever he wanted.
Chloe couldn’t compete with the smorgasbord of beautiful, trendy, and outgoing women who patronized the hippest new restaurant in the city. But could she become one of his conquests?
Could she do it? Bury her rigid moral compass and give her body over to a single night of passion? One night of lust, no regrets?
She dialed Jill and arranged a lunch date for later in the week. If she truly wanted to open her legs and keep her heart closed, then she needed the advice of an expert. Her best friend’s platinum player’s card made her the perfect person to consult.
Another whisper of memory from the night before sent a chill across her neck. Constantine. She had to experience one night with him. He was the only man to ever tempt her to her breaking point.
Chapter Four
“Let me get this straight,” said Chloe, leaning forward in her chair at a wooden table of their favorite lunch spot. “Just turn off my brain and let my body take charge? How the heck do I do that?”
“Grrr,” Jill growled, her face contorting. “Haven’t you ever just gone with the flow?”
“No.”
“Never skipped a step on that slow and steady dating schedule of yours?”
“U-uh. Nope.” Chloe blinked repeatedly. “I have a firm system that weeds out losers and keeps only the men with true potential for a long-term relationship.”
“Which means you actually date how many men in a calendar year?” Jill’s eyelids widened. A head tilt caused her blonde hair to hang at a flattering angle that Chloe could work for in front of a mirror and never achieve.
“I usually date at least one guy a year,” she said, crossing her arms and glancing out to the street. “Sometimes two.”
“So, you have one or two sex partners a year?” Jill’s mouth hung open as if she couldn’t believe anyone was truly that lame.
“No.” Chloe twisted a napkin in her lap. “Not every relationship lasts three months.” She took a sip of her iced green tea. “Some men aren’t willing to wait that long. But I’m a mature, independent woman, and I can take care of myself.”
“You must go through a ton of batteries.” Jill’s comment was muttered around a forkful of salad.
“Hmm?”
Jill swallowed. “Never mind,” she said, sipping her diet soda. “We’ll start at the beginning. I’ll pretend you’re fresh out of high school and ready to learn the secrets of what happens between adult men and women.”
“Geez,” Chloe said, huffing. “I understand the mechanics of sex.”
Jill raised her index finger to indicate school was in session. “Just saying, ‘the mechanics of sex’”—her voice took on a robotic tone—“tells me how much you don’t understand. Lesson number one from Jill Whitney’s guide to Seducing for Dummies. If it feels good—do it. If his hand on your thigh feels good? Then let him slide those fingers higher. If his tongue in your ear feels good? Then let that tongue explore everywhere. Let your body lead you where it wants to go. Which should be to the penthouse of the pleasure palace.”
Chloe coughed and tried to swallow the mouthful of salad she’d begun eating. The lettuce stuck in her throat. A sip of tea slid the mouthful down, and she whispered, “I’m not sure I’ve ever been in the parking lot, let alone to the penthouse you’re referring to.”
“Oh, my, God. Do not tell me you’ve never had an orgasm.”
“Of course, I have,” she said, wanting to be brutally honest, but fear of being ridiculed made her pause. If she couldn’t trust Jill, she might as well start collecting cats. “I just haven’t reached that floor with a partner.” There. The truth was out. Heat rushed over her neck and across her cheeks. If Jill laughed, the whole seducing Constantine plan was going into the nearest trashcan.
“Chloe … Chloe.” The sound of her name broke through her bubble of mortification.
Her friend’s gentle features displayed compassion. No indications of ridicule marred her face.
“That’s more common than you might think. Women are excellent at faking it. We don’t want to bruise a man’s ego. However, men don’t learn anything that way.”
Insecurity and self-doubt about her sex appeal kept Chloe from voicing her true needs with men. What if her inclinations were considered weird? Instead, she accepted whatever small pleasures came with the act.
“Guilty,” she said. “I never thought about it like that before. I’m a mediocre sex enabler.”
“Ha.” Jill laughed. “Mediocre sex enabler. I’ll have to add that as a chapter to my manual.” She grinned, crinkling her nose in a juvenile way that belied her usual woman-of-the-world persona. “A sense of humor is great. When it comes to all things relating to the opposite sex, you have to remember we’re all just human. Love and intimacy can make you crazy. Better to laugh than drive yourself cuckoo with anxiety.”
“You are so wise,” said Chloe. “I’m humbled by your enlightenment.” Repeated bows followed.
“Okay, enough admiration. You, my friend, need a wild sexual encounter. And I’m happy to be your wing-woman.”
Sudden panic rushed adrenaline through her veins. What if Constantine took one look at Jill and decided he’d rather send his smoldering interest in her direction?
“But what if he wants you?” The legitimate concern had to be addressed. Every man wanted Jill. She lit up any room she entered with her bright smile, big blue eyes, and statuesque figure.
“Nonsense.” Her long blonde hair swung side to side with perfect sheen. A graceful hand shoved at the air to whisk away Chloe’s remark. “If I bring Kyle, no man will hit on me.”
“That’s true.”
The museum seemed the least likely place to meet a hunk with Kyle’s broad shoulders and muscular build. But, of course, Jill could find a pearl in any patch of ocean she swam.
“Hey, speaking of Kyle. What gives?”
“Hmm?” Her friend suddenly became engrossed in her Cobb salad. A large forkful of lettuce and tomato went into her mouth. Her brows lifted and she chewed.
“Although I love the visual that elephant thong brought,” Chloe said, “you really didn’t tell me anything else about your night. And after checking my calendar, I noticed you’ve been seeing him for over a week. Yet, it kinda sounded like last night was the first time you two got busy.”
Jill shrugged and took another large bite of salad.
“Okay, it’s obvious you’re starving. But I do expect honesty about this new relationship at some point.”
Her friend’s eyes rolled at the word relationship and she continued eating.
Wow. Her world had shifted. Uninhibited and wild Jill seemed to be settling down. And Chloe was ready to break out of her repressed lifelong role as a good girl. Lust for the tall, dark, and sinfully handsome Constantine caused her to squirm. She wanted him bad.
All the stern protocols which kept her hands neatly folded in her lap and her legs clamped shut were falling away. Just one time, she wanted to be with a man who could take her out of her head and into the moment. Constantine seemed to radiate with endless possibilities for reaching the penthouse of her sexual desires.
If she were wrong? Well, then she’d have a new experience to add to her short list of
impulsive decisions. Not since getting drunk on tequila at a high school graduation party had she truly let go. Sure, she regretted the hangover that accompanied the overindulgent night. But she never regretted the fun she had in the proceeding hours.
She doubted fooling around with the man who was sexual kryptonite to her self-control would cause regrets. Whether the elevator took her to the penthouse of pleasure or not, the climb would be one for her permanent memory file.
No regrets. No matter what the consequences.
Chapter Five
Constantine stood behind the bar and peered at the front door of Midnight Luna. His fingers strummed the chrome surface. The sound of a throat clearing drew his focus to the man mixing a drink at his elbow.
“Sorry to interrupt your nightly vigil,” said Tyrese, Constantine’s unexpected confidant. “But willing her to arrive hasn’t worked for how many days now?”
“Four.” He smacked the bar with his palm. “Four days and she hasn’t been back.”
“Conny,” Ty said, using his preferred shortened version of the bar owner’s name. “You never saw her here before Monday. She’s not a regular. It could be weeks until she returns.”
He bent, pressing his forehead to the raised, cool metal surface. “I won’t last weeks.”
“Neither will this business if your mopey ass hangs around.”
Constantine straightened. “You’re right.” His angst and constant yearning weren’t in line with the affluent, hip atmosphere he’d cultivated for his latest business. “I’ll be in my office.”
“Wait,” Ty said, raising a glass. “Give my latest creation a try?”
Constantine couldn’t help but grin. Tyrese was turning out to be the biggest boon to Midnight Luna since its opening eight months earlier. The man’s sparkling smile never faltered. Ty seemed to enjoy mixology and people more than any other barkeep Constantine had ever employed. His dark skin enhanced the clear whites of his eyes and accentuated the slight center gap between his front teeth. The imperfection only made him more interesting.
