by Eve Black
Oh God, how could she not think about her first sexual experience with awe?
Once they’d arrived at David’s suite, she didn’t have time even register what the room looked like before he was kissing her, his tongue doing battle with hers as they both made short work of undressing. She’d been glad that the lights in the suite were off, it allowed her to hide her rather large blemishes—like her belly rolls and cellulite, but then he’d dashed her hopes when he’d tossed her naked ass on his large bed and switched on the bedside lamp.
Instead of the grimace of disgust she’d been expecting, his whole face took on the look of a ravenous man, his eyes darkening, his nostrils flaring, his jaw muscles jumping. And don’t even get her started on his naked gloriousness. If she thought he was a Greek god with his clothes on she couldn’t even think of a way to describe David’s naked body. Long, lean muscles beneath taut skin. His chest muscles bunched and twitched as he moved toward her, crawling on the mattress until was above her, the wiry black hairs on his chest and of his happy trail brushing against her flushed skin, eliciting shivers of decadent sensation. He’d kissed her then, hard, like he was gasping for her breath. Then, his hand went to work, touching her, cupping her breasts and sliding over the skin of her belly, petting her flesh until she was covered in goosebumps and shuddering in need. As he kissed and nipped and licked her neck, his other hand pinched and played with her nipples, dragging moans from her chest, moans he swallowed when he devoured her mouth again.
The hand on her belly slid further down, colliding with the patch of hair at her apex. As a virgin, she hadn’t thought much about personal grooming, other than trimming the hairs so they wouldn’t get stuck in her panties. Besides that, there was no fancy waxing or design work, like an arrow pointing to the throbbing nub begging for David’s attention.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you,” he growled, and she arched into his hands.
“Yes. Please,” she panted, not knowing what she was asking for beyond more.
He slid his fingers into her slit and she gasped at the sensation—she’d never had a man’s hand there before. It was astounding.
“Mmmm,” he purred. “You are so wet. So ready for me.” He pulled his hand from her pussy and sucked his fingers. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Delicious, Peaches. How do you smell and taste of peaches everywhere?”
Struck by the question, she mumbled, “Shampoo and bath wash.”
He chuckled. “Buy more. I could never get enough of this.” He slid his hand back between her thighs, finally finding that hidden button. He strummed it like an expert, making her jump from her skin with a shout.
“God! David!” she cried, writhing beneath him. The urge to touch him, to make him feel as good as he made her feel, Diana placed her hands on his chest, running her fingers over the muscles of his chest, luxuriating in the feel of the crisp black hairs against his fingers and palm. She scraped one of his dark nipples with her fingernail and he groaned. Empowered, she scraped her nails over his chest, descending over the ridges and grooves of his defined ab muscles, stopping just shy of her prize. As if in a frenzy, David kissed her harder, deeper, tangling their tongues as if in a manic dance. His hand on her breast alternated between hard and gentle kneading, bringing her to the cusp of bliss through pleasure then pain. The hand between her thighs kept strumming, playing her clit, dragging deep chest moans from her throat as she hurtled toward orgasm. Just as she reached the edge, he stopped, sliding his fingers down to tease her opening. She bucked off the mattress, nearly flinging David from the bed, and he chuckled.
“So sensitive. So responsive. You are a beautiful wanton, Peaches,” he drawled, before taking her nipple into the scorching heat of his mouth, the same time he plunged two fingers into her channel. The pain was sharp—she’d never had something greater in width than a tampon in there before—but the burning ache that accompanied it was a revelation.
“More of that, please,” she begged, and he delivered, fucking her with two fingers as she sucked and flicked his tongue over her nipples. She trembled, her body on fire, screaming for release—the world fluttered to black before exploding into a trillion colors. She cried out, sounds and utterances she’d never made before spilling from her lips.
“That’s it, come for me. Spill your pleasure all over my hand,” David rasped.
Coming down from her shattering high, she fell limp onto the bed, panting. She didn’t know if she would ever move again.
“Oh no, Peaches. I’ve only just begun. Now, I want to taste your pleasure on my tongue…”
Even after he’d made her come on his face, he hadn’t been finished with her. He’d fucked her after that, entering her body like a man on a mission, piercing her maidenhead with little discomfort, and then taking her to heights she never thought possible.
Three times. She’d lost her virginity in the most spectacularly incredible mind-blowing way.
Her body pulsing with need from the memories of earlier, Diana cursed into the ceiling. She really should have drunk herself to sleep, perhaps she still could. She could empty the mini fridge and charge it to the room. She always slept better—dreamlessly—with a few fingers of liquor in her.
There isn’t enough booze on the planet to help you forget about David Brenner, his magnificent fingers, tongue, and cock.
Damn. David Brenner easily ruined her for other men…and he didn’t even know her. Not her name, not anything about her. Chances were, she’d never see him again, and she knew he’d never bother looking for her. She had been a one-night distraction, a few hours of pleasure without the benefit of emotions. He’d left his mark on more than just her body, though, she knew that now.
What the hell was she supposed to do about it?
Nothing. Forget him. Move on.
Easier said than done, but she would have to. There was no other choice. She’d made her bed, she’d had sex with a billionaire playboy, so what had she expected?
Chapter 7
Pulling up outside of the restaurant where he’d planned to meet Rick for a late lunch, David caught his reflection in the gleaming doors outside his Escalade as he stepped from the conveyance and onto the dirty sidewalk. Everything in New York was filthy, especially compared to Tokyo, where he’d been the day before. Straightening his suit coat, he cast a quick, empty smile to a duo of smartly dressed women as they strode passed, their gazes catching and remaining on him even as they continued on their way. They’d trip and fall on their faces if they weren’t paying attention. He had that effect on women, though. They often tripped and fell for him, doing whatever it took to get and keep his attention.
Except her.
Gritting his teeth, he forced thoughts of her from his mind as he continued into the restaurant, the chill air of the interior making the surface of his sunglasses fog up just the littlest bit. He removed them, folding them and then tucking them into his breast pocket.
Two weeks had passed since his last meeting with Rick, and he was eager to hear the news Rick had mentioned in their phone call that morning. Those two weeks had been long, and not just because of the traveling—he was used to traveling. One wasn’t born to restless parents without spending months of the year moving about from place to place. Besides that, now that he had a fortune at his disposal, traveling was about as easy as humanly possible. But that hadn’t been the case this time around. No matter where he went, no matter who he met, no matter how many times he spied a beautiful woman pinning him with “fuck me” eyes, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. It made him damned uncomfortable; getting a cockstand during a business meeting in Shanghai, and then again in Taipei. By the time he’d made his way to Tokyo, the last stop in his itinerary, he was about ready to fuck his way through the city, frustrated by his need but unable to assuage it. He’d tried. There were several times he’d thought to invite a woman to his room but…some time during the seduction, the desire waned. If it wasn’t the wrong color of her eyes, the scent of expensive pe
rfume rather than the sensual aroma of peaches, or the façade of painted beauty rather than the natural glow of flushed cheeks, then it was the utter lack of true, mutual attraction. Always, they were interested in fucking him, but that’s where the interest stopped. The thought of a mindless, anonymous sex had lost much of its allure.
None of them were her.
Her smile. Her scent. How her lush, curvy body had responded to his touch, his mouth, his cock. She’d been an experience he had thought to put behind him but… He couldn’t.
She’d left him—and for the first time, he hadn’t been the one to ask. She’d gone without ever telling him her name, not that he’d asked for it. As far as he was concerned, in the beginning of their encounter, he hadn’t wanted the complication of making things as personal as first names. He’d wanted to be as anonymous as possible, though he doubted she hadn’t seen his handsome face on a magazine cover. But, after he’d sunk into her warm, giving body, he’d wanted to know all there was to know about her. He’d learned nothing, save that he’d never known such intense pleasure before. And now he was stuck wondering about her; who she was, if she was from New York, if she had dreamt of him as he had dreamt of her…
Fuck.
He was doing it again; thinking about a woman he had no time nor business wondering about. She was gone. Never to see or touch or tease or taste again.
What the hell was wrong with him? Still lingering in the fresh hell that was the aftermath of Rinna, he refused to allow any woman that kind of hold over him. A burning sick settled in his belly—lies, manipulation, greed, and more lies. Women were all alike, doing whatever it took to get what they wanted. Money. Security. Social standing. Sex. The latter of which he was more than happy to give, without the mess of the other three. No more. He’d never again allow a woman close enough to him that she thought herself safe from his vengeance. That was Rinna’s mistake; she assumed that because she wore his ring she could do as she wished without consequence. She’d been wrong, and now she would pay the price.
“David,” Rick’s greeting sounded over the blood pounding in David’s ears. He glanced in his direction. He was standing beside a table set for two near the back of the dining room.
Reaching Rick, they enveloped each other in a tight embrace before taking their seats. A waitress arrived just then, her appreciative gaze moving between Rick and David, but remaining on David. Her smile was wide, her teeth straight, and the expression on her face as easy to read as the menu she handed him.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am Alicia, and I would be glad to provide you with anything you’d like to eat.”
David nearly choked on her obvious come on, but he didn’t. Instead, he replied, “I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”
Rick pinned Alicia with a cold, disapproving glance before saying, “I’ll have the same.”
A flush rising into her cheeks at Rick’s look, Alicia snapped upright, her body tense, as she nodded then turned to get their drinks.
“Does that happen to you often?” Rick asked, his lips pulling back in distaste.
David shrugged. “I don’t know. I rarely pay attention.” And that was the truth. He knew his looks were eye-catching, but he’d grown so used to the leering and eye-fucking that it had become like background noise.
Rick grunted before dropping his gaze to the lunch menu.
“So, what was the news you wished to share with me,” David inquired, eager to hear if the last connection to Rinna had been severed.
Rick leaned back, abandoning his menu.
“She wants to settle,” Rick announced, his smile showing his perfect white teeth, which shone as sharp and deadly as any predator David had ever seen.
Relief flooded him, his chest constricting as realization hit. Soon after, a blast of triumph lit him up from within, and he returned Rick’s grin.
“She’s agreed to pay the amount I demanded?” Of course, she did. She’d fallen into a pit of her own making, and now she was desperate to climb out, her life intact—as much of it as she had left now that word of her lies and machinations had spread.
Rick nodded. “She did.”
“Where do I sign?” David wanted that shit over with as soon as possible. He wanted to rip those pages from his book and burn them, never to think of them again.
For the first time in a long time, a flush pinkened Rick’s cheeks. The man was blushing? “In my rush to leave, I left the documents on my desk. I’m having one of my paralegals bring them by.”
“Oh? I hope it’s no trouble,” David remarked, not that he really minded that someone who worked for Rick had to go out of their way to actually do their job.
He shook his head. “She has an appointment a few blocks from here, so she said it wouldn’t be a problem to drop them by on her way.” He stiffened, tipping his chin as he peered over David’s shoulder toward the door. “Speak of the devil.”
It was her scent David noticed first. Warm peaches. He closed his eyes, the urge to take a deep breath nearly stole his control, but he refused. Just barely. He stiffened, the sensation of eyes burning into his back making the hairs on his neck reach out toward her.
Rick pushed his chair back and stood, smoothing his coat, and David followed suit.
He turned to greet their visitor, easing an expression of practiced indifference over his face. It wouldn’t do to see her again and encourage any lasting feelings she might have toward him after their night together.
Cocky bastard. You know you want her to want a repeat. You’ve been gagging for it!
He shut that thought down quickly. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman sought out a reunion, a repeat performance in his bed, but he didn’t do repeat performances.
No matter how earth shattering the orgasms.
Wide, emerald eyes wrapped in dark gold lashes stared at him, recognition filling her gaze before a striking coldness chilled her expression. She certainly remembered him, as he remembered her. The surprise he had anticipated—and somewhat enjoyed, but the chill from her was wholly unexpected.
Interesting.
His gaze traveled over her, slowly taking in what he’d seen bare and trembling beneath him two weeks ago. She was wearing a pair of soft gray trousers, dark red flats, and a crème pullover sweater that hit just at her hips, emphasizing the dip of her waist and the flair of her hips. Not to mention the succulent thrust of her breasts. Breasts that he had tasted…but still hadn’t had enough of.
Damn.
Snapping his gaze from her body, he pinned it on her face. Her focus no longer on him, she held out a yellow envelope for Rick.
“Miss Bluth,” Rick stepped forward, taking the envelope before offering her a slight smile. “Thank you.”
“It was no trouble, Mr. Ayers,” the woman replied, her voice throaty, sensuous, striking up memories of how husky her moans, how sharp her cries of pleasure.
Rick motioned toward David. “Before you go, I’d like to introduce you to my long-time friend, David Brenner.” At the speaking of his name, there was not a single twitch or sign that she recognized it.
How was that possible?
Her assessing gaze met his again, and he couldn’t help but notice her hands were clasped in front of her, her fingers turning white.
So…she wasn’t as unaffected as she let on. But why hide it?
What does it matter to you? One and done, yeah? He could hear the sarcasm and it annoyed him.
Pulling his hands from the pockets of his trousers (he couldn’t remember putting them there), he reached out to initiate a professional and formal handshake. He absolutely did not crave touching her again. She stared down at his hand as though he were grasping a viper between his fingers.
“David, this is the best paralegal in the world, Miss Diana Bluth,” Rick completed the introductions, surprising David with his open praise for the woman.
Diana. The name of a goddess. Her silken, blonde hair, her flawless complexion and satiny soft skin, her plush, curvy, warm and lusc
ious body, her bright and glittering eyes… A deity in the flesh.
As if shaken from her temple, the earthly Diana unclasped her hands and slipped her hand into his. He couldn’t help himself…he lingered, his longer fingers encompassing hers, and he squeezed—just enough to get her attention. Her eyes on him again, he flashed her a crooked smile, knowing full well what sort of reaction that would engender.
She pulled her hand from his, letting her arm drop until it hung loosely at her side.
“It is good to meet you…Miss Bluth,” David said, purposefully dropping his voice as he spoke her name. Her cheeks flushed, drawing out a pink so lovely, he grinned.
“Likewise,” she offered, her voice even.
Rick, unknowing of David’s connection to his paralegal, broke the silent, throbbing tension between them.
“Don’t let us keep you from your doctor, Miss Bluth.”
Doctor? She was on her way to the doctor. David looked at her anew. Her skin—before she’d blushed most becomingly—had been pale, which wasn’t all that unusual for someone so fair. But…there was also a weariness about her, an anxiety just there behind the feigned disinterest in her eyes.
Is she ill, I wonder? He considered for a moment. What has she to do with you? You’ve had your one night, leave it at that. Oh, it was easy enough to say, but he knew he hadn’t yet had his fill of the curvy woman even now trying to retreat, despite his best efforts otherwise. Despite his earlier admonition to push her from his mind. Now that he saw her again, he knew he had to have another taste, just to see if she really was as delicious—sweet and slightly spicy—as he remembered. The need was one he’d never experienced before, as though the very thought of never tasting her again, of never being inside her again was abhorrent. Like the thought of never seeing the sun again, of never feeling its warmth against his face.
Without further encouragement from Rick, Diana gave a curt nod, spun on her heel, and strode toward the doors, her hips incapable of not moving from side to side, drawing his eye and making his shaft flood with blood and heat and want. Without drawing attention to his unfortunate erection, he adjusted himself as he turned to sit. Hell, it was going to be a long, uncomfortable lunch before he could go to his flat and bang one out in the shower.
