Despite being the CEO of a multi-national security firm, and my military background, I still felt like an outsider. I couldn’t relate to these high-profile movers and shakers, nor did I want to. Having served 10 years in the Navy Seals running spec ops in remote jungles, deserts, and desolate mountain ranges of Afghanistan, I much preferred my solitude than to be in a room full of the ‘Who’s Who’ of Washington D.C. making small talk. After having spent the better part of an hour rubbing elbows with them, I was done. I didn’t have the patience to continue to try and make polite conversation with these elitists. I quickly made my exit, loosening my tie as I went.
I gritted my teeth at the sound of my polished wingtips tapping on the travertine floor of the hotel lobby. I couldn’t wait to get out of this monkey suit, but I was in desperate need of a stiff drink. Bypassing the hotel’s main restaurant and bar, I headed down the steps to the Loggia Lounge for a more private atmosphere. The lounge was nearly empty. Still, I bypassed the tables for a seat at the end of the bar.
I caught the eye of a perfectly coiffed blonde, with legs that went on for days, sitting at a high-top near the piano. She was dressed in a skin tight red dress that barely came to her ass and plunged in the front indecently to her navel. Her surgically perky tits, damn near falling out of the dress as she leaned forward to take a seductive pull from the straw of her drink. I knew I could have her dress around her neck and her legs around my waist in a matter of minutes, but my cock didn’t even twitch as I walked past her.
That kind of woman was trouble, only looking for a rich Georgetown sucker to bankroll her lifestyle. While my bank account could certainly accommodate her, I wasn’t interested. I didn’t care for money hungry whores, or plastic women. Personally, I preferred a woman with curves, but right now I just wanted a whiskey.
Ignoring the practiced pout from the blonde, I ordered a drink. “Woodford Reserve, neat and make it a double.”
Ditching the tuxedo jacket, I unbuttoned the cuffs of my tuxedo shirt and rolled up the sleeves. I hated the confines of suits but understood the necessity in this environment. I had to look the part. The bartender set my drink in front of me, and I took a generous swallow, closing my eyes as I enjoyed the familiar burn of the whiskey as it coated my throat.
“Angel’s Envy, one ice cube, please,” a husky, accented voice to my left said.
I opened my eyes and glanced down out of the corner of my eye. A pair of thick legs clad in dark stockings and black open-toe pumps were perched on a barstool just a few feet away. My eyes were drawn to the hemline of her navy blue skirt as it slid up the smooth expanse of her plush thighs as she crossed her legs.
Turning to face her, I continued my slow perusal of her body, taking in her broad hips, curvy waist, and ample bosom packaged in the perfectly tailored suit. Her full lips, painted a sexy shade of red parted in a mischievous grin to reveal a perfect set of pearly whites.
“Like what you see?”
There it was again, that sexy timber that was the perfect seductive mix of gravel and honey. My cock hardened at the lascivious thoughts running through my head. What would it be like to hear that voice call out my name as I buried my face between those luscious thighs?
“Well, that depends…”
Arching a dark brow over bright green eyes, she traced the rim of her whiskey glass with her index finger, the nail painted the same seductive red as her lips. I could imagine that hand wrapped around my cock; bringing it to those lips. “Depends, on what?” she asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Enjoying the game, I stood up and walked over to her; my body pressed against her, letting her feel the hard length of my erection against her hip. Bending down so my mouth was right next to her ear I whispered, “On if you really are…” I was close enough that my breath tickled the tiny hairs at her nape, causing goosebumps to appear on her neck.
I’ll give her credit, she didn’t pull back from my intrusion. Only the pulse jumping at her throat, let me know she was as affected by me as I was her. Turning into me, she brushed her large breasts against my arm. Dark lashes lifted to reveal almond-shaped eyes of creamy jade. Mere inches from each other, I could see tiny flecks of amber in the pools of green.
“If I am really what?” she purred. Her tiny pink tongued darted out to slide across her bottom lip, moistening it as she spoke. I wanted to be that bottom lip, to feel the moist heat of her tongue slide across me.
“If you really are an Angel’s Envy.”
She laughed, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. Not one of those high-pitched placating giggles, that D.C. women typically give, but a rich, throaty laugh from deep in the belly.
“What’s your name sugar?”
“Rafe. Rafe St. James.”
“Well, Rafe St. James, you are about to find out,” she said as she reached into her tiny clutch and laid a plastic card on the bar top. Swiveling off her stool, she walked out of the bar and toward the private bank of elevators without a backward glance. The confidence with which she carried herself was just as mesmerizing as the sway of her hips.
Wasting no time, I threw a $20 on the bar to cover our drinks, palmed the room key card, and tried not to sprint after her.
Chapter 4
I didn’t give myself time to think about what I was doing, I just continued to walk toward the elevators. For once, I wanted to just live in the moment. It wasn’t as though I was celibate, but between finishing law school and working my way up at Aughton, it had left very little time for a personal life. I missed sex. I missed the feel of a man’s hands on my body, the hard length sliding into my warm heat. So when I felt the old familiar tingling of arousal when Rafe was openly admiring me, I didn’t hesitate. I just jumped. I threw down the gauntlet or in this case my elevator key.
It took every ounce of strength not to look back over my shoulder to make sure he was following me. I was a confident woman, but even I had never been so brazen before. But there was something about him.
I had been aware of him as soon as I walked up to the bar. A woman would have to be dead not to notice the raw masculinity that he projected. He was a very striking man in his own right. But, when he had taken off his tux jacket and rolled up his sleeves to reveal taut forearms covered in tattoos and that broad muscular chest, I felt the familiar heat between my thighs. The way he looked at me was almost predatory. I knew he was dangerous, but I didn’t care. It’s not like I was going to ever see him again. I wanted to walk on the wild side, just this once.
He caught up to me just as I reached the elevators. Standing so close, I could feel the warmth of his breath on the nape of my neck. Leaning forward he trailed his hand down my arm to my hand as I reached for the button. My breath caught in my throat as I felt the firm pressure of his erection pressed against my backside. He was large, and he was ready.
Before I could step into the elevator, one hand caught me around the waist pulling me close. “Make no mistake, once you step into that elevator with me, you are mine.” My heart pounded in my chest; in warning or arousal, I couldn’t be sure.
The hand around my waist slid up my shirt and in between the buttons. Pushing aside the black lace of my bra he began to stroke the top of my breast. Not stopping there, he slid his fingers down and pinched the pink bud tightly.
A gasp escaped my lips at the brief shock of pain that was quickly replaced by pleasure. Moist heat escaped the folds of my sex and began to dampen my panties. I arched into his touch, not caring if anyone saw. But he released his hold on me and spun me around to face him. Blue eyes, the color of the ocean, stared back at me. His pupils dilated with lust. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers of awareness down my spine, and I found myself at a loss for words.
Mistaking my hesitation for doubt he whispered, “Say the word, and I will walk away right now.”
Meeting his gaze square on, I replied, “I’ll let you know when I’m done with you.” Reaching forward to run a hand softly down his chest, I gripped the bel
t of his pants in my fist and tugged him into the elevator with me.
Eyes darkening, he pushed me back against the wall of the elevator. “I’m not a gentleman.” It was more a statement of fact than a warning.
Fighting fire with fire, I responded in kind, “Good. Because I’m no lady.”
He stalked forward, but the doors opened interrupting our foreplay. We had forgotten to press a floor. Rafe turned to glare at the couple about to enter, a predatory look in his eyes. The couple glanced from him to me and back to him uncertainly.
“Ah….we’ll, we’ll catch the next one. Sorry,” the man stammered before backing away hastily.
A nervous giggle bubbled up in my throat. Rafe whipped his head around to me.
“What floor,” he demanded.
“Penthouse. You need the card key,” I answered thickly.
He quickly swiped the card I had given him in the bar and punched the button for the penthouse. Closing the distance quickly, he was on me before the elevator doors closed. His hands tangled in my hair, as his mouth found mine. He tasted of Bourbon and a sweet, tangy hint of caramel.
He wasn’t kidding. He was no gentleman. There was nothing gentle about his plundering of my mouth and body. His tongue battled mine in a war for possession as his hands were everywhere. I gripped his forearms tightly trying to hang onto this wild wide. Not content to just be taken, I nipped at his bottom lip playfully. Letting him know that I wasn’t a passive party in this.
With a low growl, he squeezed my ass roughly in his hands before moving to grab my wrists. Yanking them above my head, he continued his assault with his mouth, teeth, and tongue. His mouth like liquid fire. I wanted to succumb to that heat. Securing both wrists in one hand, his free hand yanked my skirt up around my waist.
He cupped my sex, and I moaned deep in my throat.
“You like this don’t you,” he growled. Too overcome by the sensations as his fingers teased my clit through the fabric, I couldn’t respond.
“Answer me,” he commands.
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I like it.”
“That’s better,” he grins darkly as he continues his assault on my body.
His fingers deftly move my panties to the side, and he wastes no time slamming two fingers deep into my folds. Wet and welcoming they slide right in.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You are so wet.” He mercilessly fingers my pussy, plunging his fingers hard and deep. Something about being in a public elevator where the doors could open at any moment exposing us only intensifies my hunger for him. It releases something feral within me.
I break his hold on my wrists and thrust my hands in his hair. It’s my turn to yank his head back. His eyes on me I lean forward running my tongue along the ridge of his Adam’s apple, up his jawline to his ear. Biting his lobe, I reach my hand down to unzip his pants. Sliding my hand into his boxer briefs, I free his engorged member.
He hisses as my hands grip his cock firmly in my hand as I rake my nails lightly down the shaft, circling the head and back down again.
“Fuck this!” He releases me long enough to slam his hand on the emergency stop button. The elevator jolts to a halt. He advances on me again with a feral gleam in his eyes. I found myself retreating, my ass hitting the handrail at the back of the elevator.
He smirks as he reaches up and in one swift tug, rips my panties clean off my body. Without a barrier between us, he grips my waist and effortlessly hoists me up on the handrail. I am a curvy girl, and my heart skips a beat at the impressive show of strength. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist, the head of his erection pressing against my wet folds.
He let out a quiet curse as he enters me fully in one swift plunge. He punishes my body with deep hard thrusts. The sensations overwhelm as he is relentless with this punishing pace. I can feel the first waves of the orgasm build as my muscles clench around him firmly.
“That’s it. Cum for me sweetheart,” he purrs. Reaching between us, his thumb traces small circles around my throbbing clit, making me tremble. With a small little pinch, he sends me over the edge. Wave upon wave of sensations crash over me. I feel my inner walls contract with each pulse of my heart, matching his thrusts. The force of the orgasm must have been too much for him because he buried his face in my neck; his movements more frantic. With a muffled moan his hips jutted one final time, penetrating me deeply as my inner walls milk him of his seed.
We both lean against each other spent. I am first to recover and slowly slide my legs from his waist. Although they are shaky, I manage to steady myself against the wall of the elevator. He steps back from me as he adjusts himself and zips up his pants. Careful to avoid eye contact, I smooth my skirt back down into place and re-button my shirt. Grabbing my torn panties off the floor, I quickly stuff them into my suit pocket. He moves to release the stop button on the wall before turning to face me.
Taking a deep breath, I clear my throat. “Well, that was unexpected….” I trail off, unsure of what to say.
He chuckled softly. Blue eyes twinkling with mirth he asks, “Well, what exactly were you expecting?”
Before I could answer, we were once again interrupted by the ding of the elevator. This was my stop, and there was a group of businessman waiting for the elevator. They moved aside to allow me to exit first. With no choice but to leave, I step off the elevator.
“Hey,” he calls after me, “I never got your name.”
Giving Rafe a fleeting smile over my shoulder, I reply “It’s Angel.”
I could hear his rich laughter ring out as the doors shut behind me.
Chapter 5
Normally, I had no trouble falling asleep, even in hotels. My time as a Navy Seal had taught me how to gain complete command of my body. Missions often required that we function optimally on little to no sleep at all. So when we had the rare opportunity to rest, we did so immediately. I could fall sleep anywhere at any time, even standing up. We were trained to wake fully rested even after only 30 minutes rest.
But, for the first time in a very long time, I’d had trouble falling asleep. Images of a certain green-eyed tempest interrupted my thoughts at every turn. The elevator scene kept playing over in my mind. Meditation hadn’t helped. She had been so responsive, so seductive and confident. It had made my blood sear with hunger. I was a man used to being in complete control but had lost it when she had flipped the tables and been the aggressor.
No woman had ever made me feel such an intense hunger. I’d had to take her right there in the elevator. My body responded to the memories of the feel and taste of her. With a hard-on the size of Nantucket, I threw back the covers and headed for the shower. Turning the handles all the way to the right, I forced myself to stand under the icy-cold spray. But even the frigid temperature of the water could do nothing to tame my erection.
I couldn’t afford to be distracted today. Too much money was at stake. Taking matters into my own hands, I quickly jacked off to fantasies of Angel, of her delicious mouth on my cock and then bending her over and taking her from behind. My release was quick and not nearly as satisfying, but it would be enough to get me through the meetings this weekend.
Toweling off quickly, I dressed in a sharp steel gray three-piece suit. Aughton Securities was a very selective client out of the U.K. They typically only did business with other European firms. But a few months ago word had leaked that the owner and CEO, Michael Sheffield, had ideas about expanding across the Atlantic. I had quickly capitalized on this nugget of intel and sent over an in-depth proposal of how a contract between our companies could be mutually beneficial and quite lucrative. It had been well received, and Sheffield himself had requested a face to face meeting.
We were set to meet this morning at 9 am sharp. That gave me about an hour to review my notes and the draft proposal one more time before heading down to the conference center. I ordered a pot of coffee from room service and set to work.
Based
on the information I could pull together, Sheffield was a self-made billionaire like myself. A sheep farmer’s son with royal blood, he had been the first in his family to attend a university. He had started Aughton Securities from the ground up. I could respect that. It also gave me some common ground to build a rapport with him. He was also a member of the Welsh Parliament. They took their positions of government very seriously overseas. He seemed to keep his private life private. Not much was said about his family other than he has been married to the same woman for 35 years and they have one adult child together.
The background information listed his right-hand man as Alistair Todwick, VP of Defense Operations. Son of Archibald and Ingrid Todwick, Alistair came from old money. His family had been in the shipping business for over a 100 years. In his picture, he looked as pretentious as his named sounded. He had a slim aristocratic nose, thin lips, and blonde hair that was perfectly swept back over a narrow forehead. He looked soft. It said here he attended Cambridge, as generations of Todwicks had before him, majoring in business. I would bet my last dollar that it was the Todwick name rather than his merits that had gotten him into the exclusive English University. Aside from his education he also listed his hobbies polo, sailing, and wine tasting. Hell, he sounded soft.
My gut told me that Michael Sheffield would be shrewd in the contract negotiations, but I could see Alistair giving me trouble as well. Not in the same way, though. I was not intimidated by his pedigree, but it was my typical experience that those who came across as pompous and arrogant, liked to believe they had much to offer. Far more than they actually did. Loving to hear themselves talk, he would more than likely try to throw his weight, a.k.a. pedigree and financial status around. Nothing fruitful ever came from these diatribes. In fact, it typically led to lengthy delays and sometimes even killed the contracts before they even got started. But I knew how to handle him.
I had done my research, and my proposal was sound. As long as I could minimize Alistair’s blustering, I was confident that I would have the contract in hand by the end of the weekend. Glancing at my Rolex, I noted that it was now 15 minutes until 9 o’clock. Collecting my things, I headed down to the board room we had specially reserved for this meeting.
BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: PREGNANCY ROMANCE: Billionaire Mafia Boss’s Baby (Mafia Alpha Billionaire Romance) (Contemporary BBW New Adult Romance) Page 5
