Indiscreet (The Agency Dark Affairs Duet Book 1)

by Amélie S. Duncan

  Just the thought brought heat to my face and made my breaths come faster. It was unnerving, but so was Dane Westbrook. He was positively breathtaking. I’d always had a thing for men with dark hair. His was coiffured back in waves that tapered neatly just above his collar. His bone structure was elegant, his jaw freshly shaven. His full lips turned up into a broad smile and revealed an even set of white teeth.

  He lifted my hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. I felt a tingle go through me at the contact.

  “Gia Ruiz,” he said, surprising me by knowing my name without introduction. “I received a call from The Agency to invite you. I’m glad you were able to join us on such short notice.”

  “I was totally free,” I said.

  His lip twitched and my face warmed. God, why did I say that? Sounds thirsty. Tone it down.

  I straightened my shoulders. “Thank you for the invitation. You have a lovely home.”

  “Thank you,” he said. His large hand took my elbow. It was warm and firm, slightly calloused, like he worked with his hands. “How about we talk and let Bradley and Sophie have a chance to mingle? Perhaps I can introduce you around.”

  “He’ll introduce, but he’s not participating,” Bradley said. His tone was light, but the look between them wasn’t.

  “He’s right about that,” Dane said evenly. “I’m hosting the mixer tonight. I’m here to help you find a match, not be one.”

  I turned my head to hide the disappointment that arose within me, and my eyes widened in surprise as his hand slipped around my waist and rested on my lower back. It felt so natural that I didn’t move away.

  Bradley’s eyes shifted between us, and a small smile formed on his lips. “Nice to meet you, Gia. Hope to see you again.”

  Dane moved us over to an available spot on one of the leather couches. He got the attention of a hostess and ordered a scotch for himself.

  I returned my wine glass and declined another. “So, why get involved if you’re not…”

  “Looking for a match?” he finished for me. “I’m a partner in the company, and part of our agreement is to host parties. I say I’m not interested, but perhaps I’m jaded. To be honest, I doubt I’d find a woman that could handle my proclivities.”

  There was a twinkle in his eyes and amusement in his voice, which made me wonder if he meant what he said. If he did, I understood being jaded from my divorce, but he, like me, was there, so he must have had some sort of optimistic streak.

  “What about yourself?” he asked, sipping his drink.

  “I’m recently divorced,” I replied candidly. “I’m not so sure about finding a match, but I’d like to find a date.” Date sounded better than I’m looking for sex, and why not expand my horizons? I hadn’t had much experience with either. I’d dated in college, but I became Patrick’s girlfriend my sophomore year, and he was one of the few men I ever had sex with.

  “We have that in common. I got divorced, but in my early twenties,” he replied. “I’m thirty-four now. May I ask how old you are?”

  “Twenty-eight,” I answered.

  He tilted his head and grinned. “You look different than the first time I saw you.”

  “At the restaurant in Seattle,” I offered. “I was meeting my friend Liz and her new boyfriend. I think you know him…Marco?”

  His eyes flashed. “You met him?”

  My lips parted. “No, I didn’t.”

  He sighed and gave a nod. His reaction tipped me off that he wasn’t much of a fan of Marco’s, so I changed our conversation back to where he had headed it. His mentioning having met me before had me intrigued. “So, where did you first see me?”

  “It was at the housing initiative fundraiser last year,” he replied. “I’m on the board, and I also design and build homes for families in need. You were with your husband at the time. I remember you because you were standing off to the side.”

  “My usual method for blending into the background,” I said lightly, though it had irritated me at the time to be in the back where Patrick had wanted me—out of his spotlight. Getting involved in the housing initiative had been my idea, and Patrick had only agreed because of the photo op on a high-profile policy issue.

  “You didn’t blend in,” he said. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to do anything but stand out.”

  I lowered my eyes and grinned. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  His gaze was intense as it bore into mine, so much so that I turned my head, but I didn’t want him to go. “So, you’re an architect. Did you design this house?”

  He nodded and shared about his work as an architect and a sculptor. “I’ve done some of the artwork on display here. Over there is Incubus Nymph.” He pointed to the bronze image of the devil and a nude female nymph. The more he spoke, the more I didn’t want him to stop, but then he grew quiet and had someone take his glass away.

  “They’re beautiful,” I enthused. “I’d love to get a remodel on my new place one day.”

  “We’re available for assessments,” he said. “Even if you don’t go with my company, I can give you some ideas on strengths and what would need remodeling.”

  I smiled. “I’d love that.”

  “Now tell me about your work,” he said, and I launched into a bit about Perfetto. He stared at me like every word out of my mouth was interesting and I had his full attention, so focused and close that I found a nervous energy rushing through me as I talked about the company. My nervousness only intensified when he moved closer on the seat. Our thighs were touching, and a charge kindled at the point of contact. My pulse sped up and my breath quickened. It was terribly, sensually distracting.

  I thought I detected a flicker of interest in his eyes as they slid downward. It caused a tingling low in my body that had me glancing away due to my inability to hide how much I welcomed his interest in me. Then he suddenly stood and took my hands to help me stand.

  “I’ve forgotten my manners,” he apologized. “I should be introducing you around. In fact, I know someone I think you have a lot in common with.”

  I smirked. Was he serious? I didn’t know what to make of it, but I was there to meet someone new and thus let him lead me over to a good-looking man built like an athlete. His hair was wheat blond and gelled back. “Gia, this is Michael Hertzog. His company designed the pheromone spray we used tonight.”

  Michael smiled warmly at me. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” I said with a tight smile.

  Dane moved away from us and I got into a conversation with Michael about his company and my own. He was interesting and we found we had much in common, but there wasn’t an initial spark of attraction, nothing like I had experienced with Dane.

  Dane…

  My eyes couldn’t help but roam the room to find him, and I wasn’t the only one. His presence was compelling. Everywhere he stopped in the room, he was given undivided attention. It could have been because he gave off an air of authority and had the appearance of someone who would demand instant obedience. It could have been the confident way he carried himself. He radiated a masculine force that drew you in. He was like an irresistible beacon, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from scanning the room to find him. When I gave in to the impulse to see him, I found him looking my way, and a sensuous light seemed to pass between us before I forced myself back into the conversation at hand. Even so, my interest was conflicted. I wanted more time with Dane.

  As a group of guests came over to speak with Michael, I took the chance to excuse myself for a trip to the bathroom with a promise to return afterward. There was a balcony, and I hoped it was available so I could go outside for a few minutes. I wanted a chance to gather my thoughts to decide what I wanted to do. I understood why I had been brought there. Most of the men I met had the same background as I did, a shared business and industry mindset. They were all complimentary and cautious and, for a lack of a better description, like me. So why was I disappointed?

  That was t
he million-dollar question I thought about after a staff member directed me up the stairs, which I quickly ascended. It was dark except for the light coming from the top of a deep gold velvet curtain that was tastefully draped across the entryway at the end. Lively music was coming from the other side. Now that was the kind of party I was interested in.

  Another host stood outside of it and met me on approach as I made my way farther down the hall. “You don’t have the clearance to be up here.” He eyed my ribbon. “What are you searching for?”

  “The bathroom,” I replied, hesitating. “But…is that another part of the party?”

  He hesitated too. “It’s part of the party, but this one is for green members. Sorry. The restroom is over there.” He gestured toward a large oak door across from where I stood. I nodded and went in. After I finished and washed my hands, I freshened up my makeup. While I wasn’t excited about returning to the mixer downstairs, I reminded myself that I wasn’t looking for a love match. I was looking for a start, and dating someone would be a new beginning. With that in mind, I walked out the door.

  The music down the hall had mellowed, but I was still curious about what was going on behind the curtain. The host had stepped away, and I saw my chance. I quickly plucked off the red flower from my corsage and walked down the hall. I pulled back the soft fabric and stepped inside. The double doors were closed but unlocked, and I made it a good foot inside before I froze.

  There was a completely different kind of party going on in here and while I knew I shouldn’t have been there, I couldn’t get my feet to turn and walk away. I was instantaneously absorbed.

  I’d seen porn on the computer before, but nothing like the live sexual orgy I was witnessing now. The lights were soft, but there was no hiding what was going on in the suite: a group of men and women in various stages of undress kissing, touching, and stroking each other. In the center of the room was one of the largest four-poster beds I’d ever seen, and several people were having sex on it. Some couples were on top of each other, others performing oral on a third partner. It was hard to look away from the bed, but what caught my eye among the groups on the side was Sophie. She was standing in front of Bradley, her naked body writhing in his arms as he massaged her breasts, and that wasn’t all that was happening. Another man was on his knees between her thighs, orally pleasuring her, and I couldn’t look away. It was as if a fantasy had been plucked from my mind. My body heated as my breathing got shallow. I could feel my arousal between my thighs. A woman who had stood near me, just watching, went over to them, and Bradley let go of Sophie and started kissing her.

  While I was completely beguiled by the openly hedonistic sex show, I hadn’t realized a man had come to stand next to me until he leaned down to my ear and whispered, “You like watching the man rubbing her tits while the other man eats her pussy?” His voice was a deep, sultry caress. I glanced to the side once, then again. The man stood tall in a well-tailored tuxedo. The reflective lights glimmered over his handsome face, highlighting the angles of the elegant ridges of his cheekbones. His bright blue eyes and white smile were also hard to miss, especially with him leaning closer to me.

  I let my hair cover my flushed face as I sucked in air. My thighs clenched together. “I…I didn’t mean to stare.” I was tongue-tied. Did he know I shouldn’t be in there?

  “They want you to stare,” the man said. “They want to turn you on. You can touch yourself too. No one will care.”

  A look around the room confirmed his assessment. No one was watching me. Everyone in the room was caught up in their own pleasure.

  He went behind me and moved his body flush up against mine. I inhaled his cologne, a pleasing cedar wood and herb mix. He had me so close that I could feel his muscles ripple under his shirt, his cock full and erect as it pressed against my buttocks. He was like a strong solid force. I waited for my brain to kick in and get me out the door, but my feet felt rooted. I didn’t want to go. The stranger was right—I wanted to stay. I wanted to touch myself.

  The sound of Sophie’s ecstatic cry at her climax filled my ears and my eyes were back on the scene playing out before me. Bradley lowered his pants behind Sophie, who bent over at the waist. The other man with them stood and took out his cock then guided it into her mouth.

  “Go on, touch your pussy. I know you’re wet,” he purred into my ear. “Or do you need help? I’d be happy to get you started.”

  My pulse jumped in my throat as heat filled my body. I was turned on by his words and I was tempted to do it, but I couldn’t.

  Could I? I mean who was he?

  “I shouldn’t…I don’t even know you.” My words came out breathy. I was conflicted.

  “This must be your first time. I’m Elliott, one of the hosts in this room. In here, you can do whatever you want.” His strong hand slid around my waist. I could feel the brush of his lips next to my ear as he whispered, “In here, you don’t need to know me. You just need to feel. You give and receive pleasure freely. I want to stroke your pussy and feel you come. Let me make you come.”

  I wavered, not consenting or declining. Although I wanted to come more than my next breath, my conscience screamed that I didn’t know who he was, and I wasn’t in the habit of letting strangers touch me intimately. It was improper, immoral, not me—but the sexually charged air in the room and having his strong arms around me was incredibly enticing. It was a temptation I didn’t necessarily want to turn down. Still, something got the better of me. “I shouldn’t be in here. This is a mistake.” Even so, I didn’t move away. I was totally captivated.

  “You’re still here. I’d say it’s a choice.” He pressed his mouth to my neck and a moan escaped my lips. He kept a hold of me. My body was on fire with need and want. His hands felt the hard, sensitive points of my nipples through the top of my dress. The more he touched them, the more my mind explained away what I was doing. It’s just touching. I’m not having sex.

  A moan left my lips as I arched into his touch, and he continued to knead me through the fabric. “You smell delicious,” he whispered. “Are you ready for me to feel your pussy?” I gasped as he slid his hands down to my hips.

  “Elliott, stop what you’re doing right now. She’s a part of our red mixer.” Dane’s voice broke through, his tone sharp and commanding.

  Oh no. My awareness came back as blood rushed to my face. What have I done? I felt I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t, though Dane had no claim over me. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

  Elliott kept me in his arms, seemingly unaffected by Dane’s appearance. “She didn’t stop me. She wants to be touched. I know she’s wet. Feel her, Dane.”

  I flushed and closed my thighs together to try to quench the aching need that pulsed there. Oh, did I ever want Dane to touch me, but Elliott telling Dane to do so embarrassed me.

  I finally pushed Elliott’s hands away and he stepped back.

  “Did you invite Elliott to touch you, Gia?” Dane asked. His manner was neutral.

  I kept my gaze anywhere but him. “Not exactly, but I didn’t move or tell him to stop. I permitted him to it,” I admitted. I was enjoying it, though he must have thought I was a terrible slut.

  “When you come in here, you’re ready and willing to have sex,” Elliott said. “Doesn’t she know that?”

  “She doesn’t.” He looked at my wrist where the red corsage was missing.

  I bit my lip. “I didn’t think I needed it for the whole night.”

  Elliott frowned. “I can’t be expected to be looking at wrists all the time, and I can’t do anything if she chose to remove it. She came in and stayed, and she even admitted she went along with what we did.”

  “Even so, she didn’t know much about this mixer,” Dane pointed out. “Now that she understands what’s going on, she would need to consent to staying,” Dane said as he touched my arm. “Honestly, Elliott meant no harm.”

  “I know. I removed my flower. I was just as involved…” If Dane had
n’t appeared, I’d have let Elliott touch me. I wanted him to. I turned my head.

  Dane’s fingers slid under my chin and tilted my face up to his. My breath hitched. His light gray eyes were like silver lightning in their intensity as our gazes locked together. His expression was far from negative. I thought he might have even been intrigued.

  “Forget convictions, there are no judgments here,” he said. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to be touched. Do you want me to allow Elliott to stroke your pussy until you come?”

  My mouth went dry and I shifted on my feet. His words were blunt, and they turned me on. His invitation was a passionate challenge, hard to resist. It touched that ache deep inside of me that longed to be touched again. “I don’t even know him. It happened fast and I…I’m sorry.”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want him to see any more of what I was thinking.

  “Look at me,” he said. His tone was gentle though authoritative.

  I did. My pulse jumped in my throat.

  “You have no reason to be sorry,” he said. “If you hesitate to continue because of me, don’t. I want you to. It would turn me on immensely for the two of us to make you come, but I need to hear the truth from you. Tell me.”

  I felt swollen between my legs. “I did…I do want to, but…”

  I was too far gone to pass up his illicit offer. It had been ages since I’d been touched at all, and two men touching me was stepping well out of my comfort zone. This was more than I could imagine for myself. If I had, Dane would have been my choice. I’d had an attraction for him from the start.

  Dane lifted my face up and let me see the licentious force on his own. “You want me to touch you too.”

  I nodded slowly. The thought of Dane touching me tightened things low in my body. I took in a shallow breath and glanced around us.

  “Too public?” he said. “We’ll compromise.”

  “This time,” Elliott said, amused.

  I blinked rapidly. This time? There wasn’t going to be a next time. This was one-time-only for me. Even so, I could barely form a thought on what to do next.