The overwhelming need to be in his arms had her squirming in the chair. Not only was he hot, he was fantastic at taking care of her needs. And damned good at role-playing, too.
She tapped the “Request a Connection” button. One more time, then I’ll branch out. Three rooms were available the following evening. After choosing the “Pick-Up”, she sent him a personalized message.
“Hello, Hunter. Meet me in the lounge where we’ll begin our exciting evening of wild fun. Where does our evening end? It ends in me.”
She sent the invitation, tidied up the kitchen and roused her mom to help her get ready for bed.
Kimberly woke confused and swatted Alexandra away. “I don’t want your help. You need to give me space.”
Alexandra sat on the floor next to the sofa. “I want to help you, Mom.”
“No, no.” Kimberly pushed herself into a sitting position. “I’m independent.”
“I know that, but we all need a little assistance every now and then.”
“No! I don’t!”
Alexandra flinched. Her mother never lost her cool.
Knock, knock, knock.
Alexandra welcomed Tamara in. “She’s having a rough time, tonight,” Alexandra said while hanging Tamara’s coat in the front closet.
“What’s going on?” asked the nurse.
“She’s resisting me.”
“I see this a lot. Your mom isn’t ready to give up her independence. I help her in ways she doesn’t realize.”
“Like?”
“I ask her which nightgown she wants to wear. I let her choose between water or juice.” Tamara’s rueful smile reflected Alexandra’s feelings. “It helps that I’m not family. If it’s any consolation, she talks about you and your brother all the time. Cancer is a tough one.”
“I can’t help her if she’s fighting me on this. What would you suggest?”
“Speak to her oncologist.”
“Maybe you could fill in the blanks until I do that.”
The nurse shook her head. “I can’t discuss details about Kimberly’s health.”
With a light hand on the nurse’s shoulder, Alexandra said, “Of course. Thanks for taking such good care of my mom.”
“Tamara, is that you?” Kimberly called.
“Coming, Miss Kimberly,” called Tamara.
The two women entered the living room.
“Hello, Tamara.” Kimberly’s sleepy voice sounded hoarse. “Ali, you can go now.”
Alexandra whipped her head toward her mom. Kimberly hadn’t called her that since elementary school. Was she regressing to an earlier time? Losing her grasp of reality? She kissed her mom’s cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Hugging herself to quell the sudden shaking, Alexandra threw on her wool coat and left. I need some answers. She’s sicker than she’s letting on.
Alexandra drove home in silence. After turning down her quiet street, she hoped to see lights pouring from her house. Per usual, darkness greeted her. She parked, hurried inside, and turned on every light on the first floor.
With a glass of Cab in hand, she sat at the wobbly dining room table and phoned her brother. When she got voicemail, she sent him a text. “Mom had a hard time tonight. I need to talk to you. Call me!” She stared at her phone, hoping for those three little dots.
Several minutes later, her brother still hadn’t replied. After refilling her wine glass, her phone binged with a message from Incognito.
“Congratulations, you’re confirmed! Hunter looks forward to your connection at ten o’clock, Thursday evening. Once you arrive, please check in using one of the new tablets in the greeting room.”
Hunter had included a personal message. Her lips curled as she read it. “Get a good night’s sleep, Electra. You’ll need it.”
6
The Pick-Up
Alexandra awoke with a start. Bathed in sweat, she threw back the blankets and flipped on the table lamp. I haven’t had that nightmare in years.
In it, a man slapped a woman with dark hair and terrified eyes, then grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Instead of cowering, Alexandra ran screaming toward the lady. Decades later, the faceless man remained a mystery.
Trying to slow her thundering heart, she breathed deeply. When that didn’t work, she padded to the bathroom for water. It was almost five in the morning. After snuggling beneath the covers, she closed her eyes. But the image of the timid club employee with the bruised cheek crashed into her consciousness. Her eyes flew open. Poor Sage.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, physical abuse was a known trigger for her nightmares. I’ll bet a hundred people at the club have seen that poor woman and turned a blind eye to it. Well, not me.
Years ago, Alexandra had reported on the brutal murder of a young woman at an LA shelter. Following that, she spent six months following the lives of three female residents who struggled to break free from their abusers. Though the story had gutted her, she’d wanted their voices to be heard. In the process, she’d exorcised her own demons and the ongoing nightmares that had haunted her since childhood.
Or so she’d thought.
The only other time her nightmares had stopped was when she’d dated Crockett. Hoping to soothe her heartache, she rubbed her chest. Though she’d never stayed overnight at his place, she’d felt safe and loved. Until he dumped me. She did not look forward to seeing him at Colton’s engagement party. I’ve avoided him for eleven years. I can avoid him tomorrow, too.
Desperate to stop daydreaming about Crockett Wilde, she tossed off the covers and started her day.
Later that evening, Incognito was aflutter with activity. After snagging the last two barstools in the crowded lounge, Alexandra searched the sea of masked faces for Hunter. Though eager to see him, she’d arrived early to talk to Sage. So often, battered women lived in fear. If Sage had been a victim of violence, Alexandra doubted the frail employee would admit to it. But that wouldn’t prevent Alexandra from speaking to her. Despite being concerned, her motives were selfish, too. She wanted the nightmares to stop.
As the bartender poured her Chardonnay, Alexandra asked if Sage was working.
He leaned over the bar to better hear over the chatter and music. “Who?”
“Sage. She works in the kitchen. Tall, slender.” She wanted to add jumpy, but didn’t.
“I don’t know anyone by that name, but I’m kinda new. Would you like me to ask around?”
She wanted to snoop without a target on her back. “No worries, I’m seeing her tomorrow.” With a nod, the bartender moved on.
Someone’s shoulder brushed against hers and she turned. Dracule was all smiles.
“We meet again, lovely Electra. I’m delighted to see you.” Mistaking her polite expression as an invitation to join her, he set her small clutch on the bar and slid into the seat. The one she’d saved for Hunter.
“Why, good evening, Dracule.” Alexandra oozed southern charm. “Thank you again for helping me the other night.”
“Of course. How do you like the club?”
Members became loose-lipped after a few drinks, so Alexandra did her best to avoid small talk. Before she’d become the savvy and uber-private Electra, one of her Provocateur partners had confided he was married. She had dumped him on the spot. Another time, over drinks, a partner told her she looked familiar, like someone he’d seen on TV. She’d dropped him, too.
The barkeep set a napkin on the bar in front of Dracule. “Excuse me, sir. Beverage?”
“No, thank you, my good man. I’m passing through.”
“The club’s fantastic,” Alexandra said, resuming their conversation. “What about you? Were you sufficiently rejuvenated the other night?”
His smile faltered. “Are you here for the ambiance or did someone catch your eye?”
He didn’t answer my question. With a sly smile, she sipped her wine. “Both.”
Pausing, he rolled up his sleeves, exposing a tattoo with the initials
“CM” on the inside of his left wrist. After leaning his wrist on the bar, he stroked the black ink. “Someone I lost years ago.” Alexandra did not want the conversation to become personal, so she stayed quiet. “My son.” Dracule’s voice cracked, his shoulders slumped.
She’d no idea why he’d confide something so personal to a complete stranger and wondered if he was trying to garner sympathy. Either way, she felt obliged to say something. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He swiveled on the stool and sandwiched her hand between his. “Thank you, my dear.” He leaned toward her.
Goose bumps crawled up her arm and she tugged her hand away to sip her wine. Feeling like someone was watching her, she glanced over her shoulder and her heart skipped a beat.
Hunter’s broad physique filled the entryway and her insides turned to molten lava. Except for the black masquerade mask, he looked like he’d come straight from work. Dressed in a dark tailored suit, a white dress shirt and bold pink tie, his taste was as impressive as the apparent quality of his duds. His confidence carried him, but his swagger sent her pulse soaring. Damn if she wasn’t excited to see him.
“Electra.” Hunter stood behind their barstools. As she swiveled toward him, she peeked up through her lashes. The possessiveness in his eyes seared her like a tinder fire, but when he eyed Dracule, his expression turned icy. “I don’t share what’s mine. Find another woman to cozy up to. This one’s taken.”
Her insides tingled. Had anyone else made that bold claim, she’d have bolted. But Hunter’s words had the opposite effect. What kind of hold did this sexy stranger have over her?
Dracule slid off the stool. “No worries, fine sir. Miss Electra and I were just having a friendly conversation.”
Francois rushed in, almost crashing into Hunter. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Dracule. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Your room is ready, s'il vous plait.”
“Lovely to have seen you,” Dracule said to Alexandra. Without addressing Hunter, he left.
Alexandra rose. “Excuse me, Huntah. I’ll be right back.” She had to know. She followed at a respectable distance, keeping her eyes on the target. Like before, Francois ushered Dracule into the room at the end of the hallway and shut the door behind them. That’s too weird.
She returned to the bar and eased into the stool beside Hunter. “Good evening.”
A few seconds passed before he faced her. “Don’t let me stop you from connecting with that man.”
Though she owed no one an explanation, she wanted—no, she needed—Hunter to know she had no interest in Dracule. Running a hand down his arm, she leaned close. His virile scent wafted in her directed and she inhaled. “I’m curious about the special treatment he receives.”
Behind the mask, his eyes widened. “You don’t strike me as someone who’d care. Trying to keep up with the Joneses?”
She stared into his eyes, the undeniable pull tugging her closer. She desperately needed his mouth on hers, something she’d never wanted from a hookup. “He gets escort—” She pursed her lips. “It’s nothing…never mind. Let’s start over.”
He signaled to the bartender. “Vodka martini, dry,” then asked if she wanted another glass of wine.
“No, thanks.” The devil mask he’d worn the other night had concealed most of his face, but tonight, his simple black mask showed off his squared jawline and high cheekbones. Dark whiskers covered his cheeks and chin. She loved a sexy, handsome man with a few days of facial hair. Were the hairs rough or soft? Would they burn or tickle? Caressing his face would be too intimate, so she settled for stroking his windblown hair. Even that simple touch sent her heartbeat skyrocketing.
As she fiddled with his hair, his breath hitched. Her insides thrummed with desire, her pussy slickened with need. His piercing gaze had her squirming in her seat.
When she finished, he grasped her hand and pressed her palm to his mouth. Her nipples pebbled, the ache between her legs throbbed. As much as she wanted to kiss him, she would not break that rule. Kissing was reserved for lovers. And this man was not her lover. Not my lover.
“Do I meet with your approval?” He released her hand.
God, yes. “You’ll do.” Curling her fingers around the wine glass didn’t replace the loss of his touch.
“Are you attending the tech convention?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
Leaning in, he rested his lips against her masked cheekbone. Unable to control herself, she moaned. “We’re in the ‘Pick-Up’ suite,” he whispered. “Time to fuck.”
Right. Of course. She swiveled toward him and entwined her hands on her lap. “I travel a lot for my job.”
He eyed her sheer cream blouse, lingering over her fuchsia bra and black mini-skirt. Tonight she’d dressed for him.
And he’d noticed.
After checking her out, he covered her bare thigh with his large hand. Shock waves traveled up her leg. The throbbing between her legs hindered her ability to think clearly.
“Pink is my new favorite color.” His hand vanished beneath the black fabric. His moan, slow, deep and filled with promise, turned her insides to jelly.
Though she wanted to reposition herself so he’d have easy access to her sex, she crossed her legs, instead. After pulling out a lipstick from her tiny handbag, she popped off the top and slowly spun the tube. Then, with her eyes on his, she placed the hard stick to her lower lip and ran the dark color back and forth. His lips parted and a low growl shot out of him.
The server set his drink on the napkin and Hunter dropped cash on the bar. “This covers mine and the lady’s. The rest is yours.”
With a grateful smile, the bartender collected the money.
“Thank you for the drink,” she said.
He flashed her a smile, sipped his martini, then placed his hand on the back of her barstool. “Are you staying in the hotel?”
She wanted his hand on her body, not the damn furniture. Frustration tinged her tone. “Yes. You?”
“I am. We’re expected to attend a team-building exercise at Casino Night. I skipped out. That ballroom is so packed, I couldn’t hear myself think.”
“What do you do?” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t answer her question honestly. Nothing killed a fantasy more than the truth.
“As little as possible,” he replied. “You?”
Relieved, she smiled. He’d stayed in character. “When I travel I like to see where the evening takes me.”
“I know where I’d like to take you.” His deep voice rumbled through her. His self-control and confidence had her feeling dizzy. Then, his large hand wrapped the back of her neck.
Her body hummed with desire. Every nerve fiber, each cell, vibrated and came alive. This man had completely undone her and they hadn’t even left the lounge.
As they stared into each other’s eyes, her breasts felt heavy. She could barely think, distracted by the heat between her legs. He stroked her bare thigh. Up and down, back and forth. The scent of his arousal had her hungry to have him and she released her breath in a long, low hiss.
“Where is that, Huntah?”
“To bed.”
Oh, yes. “I’m not that type of girl.” When she sat tall, her protruding nipples caught his eye and he grazed one with the back of his finger. Shuddering in a deep breath, she wanted him to pinch them, hard. More. I need more. “I don’t even know your name.”
Behind the dark mask, his eyes turned stormy. “All you need to know is that I will bring you nothing but intense pleasure for hours. Why tell you my name if you won’t remember your own when I’m done fucking you?”
He’s a sex god. Quivering with anticipation, she set down the wine glass. She wanted to run to their suite and devour him. Now. Right now. But she knew better than to give in to the need so quickly. The building pressure between her legs meant a sweeter release later.
With a long finger, he moved her blonde hair away from her ear, pressed his mouth to her lobe and whispered, “Take a walk on the wild side.”
Then, he bit her lobe. She gasped from the quick shock of pain.
“We shouldn’t. We’re strangers.”
A devilish smile reached his eyes and he held her gaze for several seconds before pushing out of the chair. “And we’ll keep it that way. Turn left out of here. My suite is right down the hall. I’ll leave the door cracked.” He brushed his lips against her ear. “So much fun awaits us. Don’t be long.”
He exited and Alexandra sucked down a deep breath. With her heart pounding in her ears, she waited a few moments before following. No need to let on how excited she was to play with him.
As promised, he’d left the door ajar. Several flameless candles illuminated the room and she crossed the threshold.
Hunter waited in the corner chair. Naked.
With her heart pounding a frenzied rhythm, she shut the door. Several seconds passed while he devoured her from head to foot. Then, he rose. Beyond his devastatingly handsome face, sculpted body, and jutting erection, there was something about him that stole her breath. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have looked away. He commanded her full attention simply because he existed.
With a slow and deliberate cadence, he stalked toward her. Even masked, his hunger was palpable. He was going to fuck her. And she was going to love every damned second of it.
The longer he stared into her eyes, the more she ached for him. Anticipation swirled in a cyclone of need. Grateful he wasn’t wearing cologne, she indulged in his musky scent. From his bulging thighs and massive chest to the sinewy muscles running down his arms, she soaked up his physical perfection.
When he reached for her, she became his.
With his eyes cemented on hers, he unbuttoned her blouse. His breathing remained slow and controlled while hers roared in her ears. He removed the blouse and cupped her breasts, still hidden behind the silk bra. His breath hitched. Instead of walking around her to remove her pencil skirt, he reached around, forcing her flush against him. A shiver of excitement ran through her. The skirt dropped.
Again, she’d not worn panties and he caressed her ass. On another moan, she closed her eyes.
THE WILDE TOUCH: Book Two of The Touch Series Page 6
