Captivated

by Scarlett Avery

  “Not at all. I’ll be heading down for breakfast soon. Are you calling this early because you need to get on a Skype video chat before you start your day? Didn’t I make you come hard enough last night during our phone sex session?”

  Did he ever. He never fails to take me there.

  “You’re funny. As tempting as that sounds—and trust me, it does—I was calling for another reason.” I hope he doesn’t detect the nervousness in my voice.

  “What’s up?”

  “Hmmm…” I start and pause.

  “Are you going to say more than that or do I have to coax it out of you?”

  “Okay, I want to ask a favor.”

  “Shoot.”

  “And by the way, you can totally say no. Don’t feel like you have to say yes.”

  “Why would I refuse you?”

  “Because you’re not yet aware of the enormity of what I’m about to ask.”

  “Please be gentle. I haven’t had my first coffee of the day yet.” He chuckles.

  Here goes everything. “Of course, this might not work with your schedule because you might already have some plans on Friday night and once again I want to make it clear that you can totally say no. I won’t be mad or anything like that.” God, I’m beating around the bush.

  “Woman, spit it out.”

  “Would you come to a party with me?”

  “That’s the monumental question?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re too cute. What kind of party is it?”

  “Cynthia, a former colleague of mine from Lola’s Paradise, is throwing a pre-bachelorette party.” I sigh.

  “What the heck is a pre-bachelorette party?”

  “Oh, gosh. Sorry,” I babble.

  I quickly explain what I shared with Jessica last Sunday. I’m talking like a speeding bullet because I’m pretty sure this is not his scene.

  “Slow down, sweetie. Catch your breath. It’s not as if you’re inviting me to a party at the White House,” Hunter says when I finally shut up.

  “That’s exactly it. I don’t think it’s the kind of party you’d attend.”

  “Then why ask me?”

  I shrug, knowing that he can’t see me. “Because I don’t know who else to invite. When it comes to the people I used to work with at the restaurant, the ratio is heavily skewed towards women. They’ll show up with their boyfriends, fiancés or husbands, and the few guys who used to work with us will most likely show up with a date. Most everyone there will be coming as a couple and I absolutely don’t want to show up by myself. I begged Jessica to let me borrow her boyfriend, Kevin, but I already know he’ll be on set with one of his movie star clients all weekend long.”

  “Is that the only reason you’re inviting me, so I can be a filler?” His morning voice is so low and so deep. I can only imagine what it would sound like close to my ear as I wake up with him still wrapped around me.

  “Not really. Since you’ll be gone for most of the week, it would be great to see you again when you get back in town.”

  “I like it better when you’re honest.” Does it mean he’s also looking forward to seeing me? I desperately want to ask, but Jessica’s words are still ringing in my ear. I decide to restrain myself instead of rocking the boat. “Will everybody be twenty-two and slobbering drunk?”

  I giggle. “Most likely, since it’s taking place at her parents’ house while her dad is away speaking at a conference. Her mom is going to accompany him and since her brothers moved out a long time ago, the house is all ours. So to answer your question, yes, everyone’s my age. There are a couple of the guys who are a few years older, but you’ll most certainly be the oldest one there.”

  “So you’ll be the one walking in with the old geezer?” His question is hilarious.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister. Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? If you agree to come, I’ll definitely be the one walking in with the only hotter-than-hell hunk.”

  I’d never admit to it to him because he might enjoy it way too much, but I’m pretty sure every woman at the party will be drooling silly the minute Hunter walks in. He’ll make all the other guys look so uninteresting.

  He laughs. “That’s a great comeback. Your winning argument got me. I’m yours hook, line, and sinker, Ms. Reddick. I’ll be your date for the evening.”

  “You will?” I ask. I’m so freaking excited right now, I don’t know what to do with myself.

  “Can I make a request?”

  “Absolutely. Anything.”

  “If I’m going to be the only sober one there, make sure to wear something tight-fitting that showcases your gorgeous tits and your perfect round ass. That way I can imagine doing all sorts of naughty things to you instead of being bored out of my mind.”

  If he continues talking dirty so early in the morning, I’ll need another shower before heading to work. “I’m sure I can manage.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hunter

  It’s been a hectic and incredibly lucrative week for our business. Although I spent the majority of the week in San Fran, I had to spend a few days in San Diego and then fly back to San Fran to accommodate clients with tight schedules. Jake can’t believe how quickly I’m able to close new deals.

  The same can be said for the sales team, who has taken LA by storm. We’re still running with my idea of sending a cooler packed with a few of the best cuts via a same-day delivery service to prospective restaurateurs. They usually test our product the minute they receive it because they’re so intrigued. Often the meeting is more like a laid-back session where we get to know each other before we start talking numbers because they’re sold before I even walk through the doors.

  I got back to LA this morning very early. I didn’t even bother going to the house. I make it a point to avoid the city’s traffic nightmare at all costs. It didn’t make sense to drive all over the city, so I had the chauffeured car drop me off at the office instead. I was in before anyone else. Even Charlene was shocked to see me sitting at my desk with my sleeves rolled up to the elbow, deep into my day. It’s no wonder since she’s usually the first one to arrive at seven-thirty in the morning.

  After placing a number of thank you calls and sending a string of follow-up emails to all the clients I met this week, I spent most of the day crammed in the boardroom briefing the team. Jake and Dirk Edwards, our manager at the ranch, were on speakerphone to ensure we’re able to start servicing this new roster of clients as soon as humanly possible.

  After a demanding day, which was impossible to cut short, I hire another town car to drive me back to the house. I shower, change into something less stuffy than a designer tailored suit and get back in my SUV heading to Playa Vista. Since it’s a beautiful Friday night, the roads are busy, but I don’t mind. I’m too busy tapping my fingers against the steering wheel humming the bridge of Luke Bryan’s Home Alone Tonight song featuring the drop-dead gorgeous Karen Fairchild. She’s one hot momma. Allison sent me a compilation of country songs to remind me to come back home soon and to let me know she misses me. As much as it’s been fun in LA and Miranda has been a delicious little distraction, I do miss the ranch, my cowboys, my best friend and the little curvy blonde who’s claimed Jake’s heart.

  “I can’t believe I’m involved yet again with one of Riley’s assistants,” I say to myself as the bridge of the song kicks in again.

  Sharing Allison with my best friend was hot and heavy. It’s truly an experience I’ll never forget. Although Jake and I went all guns blazing after Allison when she moved to the ranch, my involvement with Miranda is quite different. It’s a case of two strangers meeting in a large city and then finding out they’re not such strangers after all.

  “Damn, I never thought I’d be looking forward to seeing Miranda this much.” When I realize I’m talking to myself again, I shake my head. I must be losing my mind—that or the sexy little brunette I’m about to hook up with is becoming harder and harder to forget. />
  Much to my detriment, my contact with Miranda this week has all been via phone or a Skype video chat. That said, something has shifted between us. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I feel it. This past week hasn’t all been about phone and video sex. Many times Miranda and I just spent the evening talking and getting to know each other better. It’s so refreshing to be able to have a conversation with a woman I’m also physically attracted to. It hasn’t happened to me before. Not even with Nina Dallion—the only long-term girlfriend I’ve ever had. That’s if you can call two months long-term.

  I’m still lost in my thoughts and humming along when the robotic female voice of the GPS navigation system lets me know I’ve arrived at my destination.

  “Let’s see how long it takes me to seduce Miranda into ditching this party and coming back at my place,” I say aloud as I reverse into a parking spot right in front of Cynthia’s parents’ single-family house.

  Contrary to our original plans, I’m arriving unaccompanied. Based on the last text message she sent me about fifteen minutes ago, Miranda’s already been here for half an hour. She texted me yesterday to let me know there was a last-minute change of plans and a group of them were heading for dinner before the party. Since I knew my arrival would be a little chaotic, it was perfect timing because it allowed me to stay a little later at the office to tie up loose ends.

  When I get to the door, I ring the bell a few times, but no one answers. I knock, but still nothing. I stand there for a few seconds waiting and suddenly it hits me. Duh. I feel ridiculous when I realize the volume of the music makes it impossible for anyone to hear me. After a good chuckle, I turn the door handle and let myself in.

  Walking inside this house is like walking inside a time capsule. What a flashback to my college years. Some things never change. I scan the room and find the usual suspects at a party for people this age—red Solo plastic cups littered everywhere, empty bottles of beer lined up on tables, large bowls of chips, peanuts and pretzels, tubs of different assortments of dips, platters of chicken wings, and of course the dessert of choice for the occasion, chocolate brownies. There are people making out in every corner of the house—on the stairs, on the couch and even on the floor. It’s a given that the lights are turned down real low to add to the already suggestive mood. Wow. I take another few steps and head towards the kitchen—since that’s usually where a lot of people hang out. When I turn the corner and pass a group of guys huddled together, it’s as if I’ve stepped into a cloud of stinky smoke. Pot? Thank God I’m no longer this young. I know this is technically a pre-bachelorette and granted people are better dressed than if this was just another college party, but let’s be honest, this still has all the markings of a frat bash.

  I look around to see if I can spot Miranda, but I can’t find her anywhere. Suddenly, a small finger pokes my back and I hear my name over the loud music.

  “Hunter.”

  I turn around to face her and I’m rendered utterly speechless. I blink a few times, trying to regain my ability to speak. How the hell am I supposed to resist her when she looks this stunning? Even under the dim lights she glows. “How were you able to recognize me from the back?” That’s not the first question that pops into my head, but since the kitchen is crowded with her friends, I decide to play it safe.

  Miranda cocks her head to the side and gives me one of those are-you-kidding-me looks. “Along with being the oldest and hottest, you’re also the tallest one here.”

  Her eyes glimmer under the spots of overhead lights encased in the ceiling, and again, I have to remind myself I’m here for her and not to satisfy my own needs. “Keep talking like that and I’ll be willing to give you anything you want.”

  She gets on her tippy toes and tugs at my shirt and instinctively I lean down and take her lips. It’s a quick kiss, nothing too raunchy, but enough to awaken my appetite for her. Down, boy. Alas, she pulls back and turns away from me. There’s a slight moment of hesitation on her part before she speaks again. “Why don’t we go find a spot with fewer people? Let’s go through the front instead of fighting our way through the crowded kitchen. There’s a little hallway right on the other side of that wall over there and it’s a lot quieter,” she says, pointing behind me.

  “Lead the way.”

  I follow her, exchanging nods here and there with partygoers. We circle back into the living room, stepping over bodies, cushions and bottles of booze without slowing down. We continue walking without so much as glancing behind us until we hit a corner and turn up a hallway. The area is fairly narrow and there’s a staircase leading to the upper floor. Since I noticed another staircase when I walked through the doors, I can only assume these might be the most used ones in the house since they lead straight down to the kitchen. My dad’s house had a similar configuration until I paid for a major reno job on the house I grew up in.

  Miranda is right—although we’re not the only ones here, the volume of noise is much more manageable. Our arrival clearly annoys two couples that are making out. After letting us know that we aren’t welcome thanks to their disapproving grunts, both couples take their steamy embrace elsewhere, leaving Miranda and I alone in this confined space.

  The lovebirds barely have time to turn on their heels before I zoom in on Miranda. We stare at each other for a few long seconds without saying a word. I have a suspicion that the sparkle reflecting in her honey-colored irises has exactly the same burning intensity as the one that must be emanating from my lustful eyes. I could stand here all night long gazing at her like this, but she breaks our solemn moment.

  “Did you make it here okay?”

  Huh? That was quite the abrupt change. I guess this exchange might’ve been too much for her to handle and made her uncomfortable.

  I follow her cue. “Yeah. It was easy to find.” I nod.

  “Good.”

  “I missed not you seeing you this week, sweetie. And for the record, Skype video chats don’t count.”

  Her mouth drops open and her beautiful eyes go wide. “Seriously?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She scrunches her nose shyly. “I’m happy to see you too.” We smile at each other like goofy kids and then she changes the subject. “Thank God you got here. I swear I’m the only sober one.”

  “You haven’t been drinking at all?” I ask, surprised.

  “I had a glass of wine at the restaurant and one when I got here. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Light drinker?”

  “Nah. Nothing that saintly.” She winks, tugging at my hands.

  “What, then?” The flirtatious glee in her eyes makes me want to know more.

  She tilts her head back and from this angle I have to exert herculean force not to crush my lips against hers. “I was waiting for you to get the party started.” When she says stuff like that and looks at me like this, my mind goes straight to the gutter.

  Let the games begin. “You satisfied my request nicely.” I know I should veer the conversation to safe chitchat, but she looks way too hot to hold back any longer.

  “What do you mean?”

  I take a small step back and brush my eyes along her body, appreciating her curves and her sultry outfit. Her cascading reddish-brown hair is perfectly sleeked and her long bangs flirtatiously play with her eyes. She brushes her hair away from her face with that little tilt to the neck that drives me absolutely crazy. Her makeup is dramatic and her red lips are mesmerizing. She’s wearing a beige top that fits her so well it leaves little to the imagination. She’s paired it with a short fitted navy skirt that hits her mid-thigh and that hugs her hips like a kid glove. Don’t even think I didn’t catch a glimpse of her delicious ass when we walked out of the kitchen. I had a good eyeful and I had to shove my hands inside the pockets of my jeans to avoid groping her in front of all of her friends.

  The pièce de résistance is definitely those shoes. Her red high heels are every man’s fantasy. The way the buckle cinches her thin ankles is stirring up so mu
ch unspoken raunchiness in me. I can only imagine what kind of kinky lingerie she’s hiding underneath all of this.

  I make no excuses in admiring her beauty and I know she’s looking at me looking at her. From the mischievous side grin, I’d say she’s loving every minute of it. “I definitely have a lot to keep myself entertained with all night long. I won’t even tell you what’s already going through my mind right now. Your cheeks would turn the color of those dangerous high heels you’re wearing if I were to reveal any of those salacious thoughts.”

  She swats my arm. “You’re bad. You have to behave. Remember, you’re the oldest one here and you’re supposed to set the example for the rest of us.”

  My left eyebrow lifts in amusement. “Hell, no. I’m no one’s father and I don’t owe anything to anyone here other than you.”

  “You’re full of flattery tonight.”

  “Aren’t I always when it comes to you?” I say, stepping closer to her.

  “Maybe.” She nods in agreement with a huge grin splattered across her face. “Well, since we’re exchanging compliments and all… you look pretty darn handsome yourself.”

  “Thank you, sweetie. It’s nothing that’s going to stop traffic like what you’re wearing, but I figured it would do. I doubt I own anything in my wardrobe that would help me blend more with the crowd, but since I’m sure it’s pretty obvious that I’m the oldest one here, it really doesn’t matter.”

  Unless I’m wearing work clothes or cowboy gear on the ranch, everything else I own is expensive designer wear. What Miranda has on doesn’t fit at all with what I’ve seen so far since arriving. She looks like a freaking model. The girls at the party are either wearing baggy jeans or they’re wearing skintight exercise-slash-yoga pants that reveal way too much, with tiny t-shirts that barely cover their tits, let alone their midriffs.

  “Since we both look so good, maybe we should capture this moment. What do you think?” she asks playfully.

  “You mean a photo?”