Club Saturday: Contemporary Menage Romance (Sarasota Sin Series Book 2) (2 page)

To her back, Vania heard a door slide open, felt a cool breeze on her skin as she inhaled Matt’s heady scent of soap and man. She pressed her hands on the mirrored walls, waiting as her heart started skipping beats.

But she didn’t have to wait for long.

Chapter 2

Clipped steps echoed in the elevator car before Matt stepped right behind Vania. “Gorgeous.” His hand flitted through her hair, brushing it across her shoulder until it swung over her right breast. “Natural blonde?” he whispered, his voice so faint she hardly recognized it.
 

Although he knew that she was natural, they’d agreed to play this game. “Yes, I’m blonde everywhere.” She sensed his breaths closer, closer, and closer, until his lips brushed her nape.

 
“I’ll see if you’re lying.” He pressed his cock against her lower back, circling his hips while twirling the tip of his tongue inside her ear. “And if you’re not, I’ll grant you
one
.”

One orgasm? When was the last time Matt pulled that off? Vania couldn’t even remember. But since they were playing games and her body was revved up more than it’d ever been, she hoped he came through for her.

His teeth clamped down on her earlobe, a small bite that whetted her ever-increasing appetite. Vania shivered as he reached over her shoulders and covered her hands with his, squeezing gently in silent reassurance.

While blindfolded, Vania could feel their size differences, could sense the leashed strength within Matt’s body as his chest and pelvis pressed against her back.

Matt’s hands left hers, his fingers trailing down her bare arms in a languid stroke. He dragged them over her shoulders, across her collarbones, and then down, down, down, until he slipped them inside the front of her dress.
 

Vania tensed as her nipples pressed against his palms and fingers, but she managed to keep her hands flat against the mirror. He flicked out his fingers and her bodice lowered beneath her breasts.
 

“Perfect,” he breathed while plumping and molding her aching mounds.
 

In one fluid move, he spun Vania around and drew a stiff nipple in his mouth while toying with the other one. The dual assault of his mouth and fingers tightened Vania’s clit, until a scream built in her throat.
 

How was he commanding her this way, turning Vania inside out in seconds? She didn’t know this Matt. He’d been holding back on her!

A hand dropped down, his fingers curling up her dress and exposing her panty-free zone. Vania felt Matt drop to his knees, before his mouth and nose pressed against the trimmed curls at her apex.

He groaned. The low guttural sound vibrated against her pussy. “You
are
natural,” he whispered in that same faint rasp.

Had she ever been this wet for him?

As if hearing her thoughts, he slid a large hand between her slick thighs and plunged two fingers deep inside her core. For a second, Vania thought his fingers felt larger than normal, but when he moved them
that
way, she couldn’t think straight.
 

Vania’s back arched, her scream finally leaving her throat. She had no idea what she was saying; probably professing her undying love for Matt’s freshly learned skills.
 

He traced his tongue across the hood of her clit. When she bucked, he gripped her ass with the hand not pumping in her sex and secured her. Fingers so deep, so thick, plunged in and out.
 

In and out.
 

In and out.
 

As his tongue slid in maddening slow circles around her swollen nub, she reached for his head to run her fingers through his hair. “Oh, Matt!”

He stopped her. “No. Touching.”

When she opened her mouth to object, he curled those newly masterful fingers toward her inner, front wall and found a sensitive spot he hadn’t touched before.

“Oh!”

He thrummed Vania’s pussy while latching onto her clit with the wet suction of his mouth, moving the tip of his tongue over her bundle of nerves until he overwhelmed every cell in her body.

On fire, Vania started sweating. The clenching and releasing built inside her sex, twisting and twisting. “Matt!”
 
The orgasm slammed her so hard she hurdled towards the floor.
 

With stealth precision, he pressed his shoulder beneath her thigh before she fell, supporting Vania with ease. “Shh,” he whispered against her dripping heat.
 

Slowing his strokes to ease her down, Matt licked beneath her clit to match the rhythmic way her sex throbbed around his fingers.
 

“Fuck,” he groaned against her, his voice the barest of whispers. “I must have you.”

“You’ll always have me, Matt.”

The back of Vania’s head hit the mirrored wall, her body blissfully sated. She started raising her blindfold but Matt whispered no, and then his footfalls grew distant as he left the elevator. She wished that this wasn’t protocol — that he could ride up and leave with her, because her legs were nearly too shaky to support her.
 

Vania shook her head. She couldn’t help but wonder where Matt had learned to work her like that. Then she wondered if he would ever do it again.

 
When Vania regained her bearings, she discovered the elevator was lifting her back to the club level. So she reached with trembling hands and removed her blindfold and put on her glasses. Facing the mirror to adjust her dress, she spotted an unfamiliar glow on her face and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Satisfaction has its perks.” And now she knew what she’d been missing all along. “I want more.”

When Vania stepped from the elevator, a woman strode right past her and took her place. She gave Vania a knowing wink before the doors closed.
 

Vania lowered her head, gripped her purse strap, and strode forward, feeling every eye in the club on her though no one was paying any attention.
 

She picked up her pace, her heels clicking across the vestibule’s marble as her phone buzzed. “Matt?” she answered. “Where are you? I’m heading to the front door.” He was already outside, waiting. She couldn’t guess the logistics of that but maybe the elevator he took opened to the front of the club. “Yeah, hail the cab.” Vania saw a break in the crowd and wriggled through. “I’m coming out.”

Right before her hand reached out and smacked the door lever. Another hand, a very male hand, gripped hers, stalling her movement. “Back off,” she snapped while spinning around. “I’m not —"

“What’s wrong?” Evan looked down at her, his black hair gleaming beneath the lights. “You look upset.” His eyes moved over her face, narrowing. “And flushed.”

“Mr. Easton, I —"

“We’re not in the damn office.” His hands landed on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Say Evan.”

“Evan,” she whispered, sensing flashes starting to go off in her peripheral vision. “Nothing’s wrong, but I need to go.”

“Where’s your fiancé?”

“He’s out front, waiting with a cab.” She winced when a closer flash caused her vision to spot. “What the…”

“Fuck!”

“What’s happening?”

“They’re not the paparazzi but the outcome’s the same once they post their pics on the internet,” he muttered through a clenched-teeth smile. “Keep smiling and step from the door.”

“Who’s at the club?” More flashes went off, and she turned her face to the side. “Did someone famous show up?”
 

“You could say that.” He muscled her through the crowd, keeping his smile, looking relaxed for the world to see, while leading her past the same elevator she’d left moments ago.
 

Vania held her hand over her eyes, blocking the flashes going off in her direction. Then her stupidity dawned on her. “Oh, they’re taking pictures of
you
.”

“Sorry to say you may be on the internet tomorrow,” he whispered against her ear.
 

“No!”

“Continue smiling.” He stopped and swiped a card key next to a brushed steel door.

“Why do you have a master key?”

Evan ushered her through the door. “It’s public knowledge that I own this club, Vania. The controlling part of it anyway, but the rest of Club Saturday’s stock is held by The Easton Company.”

He owned this club? Would Evan find out she’d been in one of those elevators? Vania took a deep breath, and then another, trying to calm down as she phoned Matt and explained what happened. When she ended the call, Vania could sense Evan’s dark eyes on her, watchful and curious.

“He’s meeting you in the parking garage?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay, Vania?”

“I’m doing fine for my first time running from picture-snapping groupies.” She forced a casual shrug.
 
Even though the startling flashes had stopped since the groupies were kept from employee areas, orange orbs still winked in her vision.
 

“Sorry about that.”

“To think,” she teased, “all this attention could be mine if I were a billionaire playboy.”

“Or my woman.”
 

“What?”

“Nothing… After this, you still find my club stunning?”
 

“Maybe.” She smiled up at him. “Did you pick out the jellyfish lights?”

“No, I fought against those damn lights but my designer thought they would fascinate the tourists.” He chuckled. “So you find them fascinating.”

“Let’s put it this way, they’re something to look at.” She tilted her head forward and rubbed the back of her neck. “My cat would find them fascinating, though.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment. Cats find balls of tinfoil fascinating.”

“Oscar is bored with tinfoil, but he watches DVDs of flying birds with rapt interest.”
 

“DVDs for cats?”

She laughed at his expression. “You must not have any pets or you’d know.”

“I have no time for them. Jetting around the globe is a constant in my life,” he said, pressing his hand to her lower back. “Watch your step here.”

She sensed concrete beneath her feet and realized they were in the parking garage.
 
Vania blinked a few times, encountering blessed dimness. “I can almost see again.” She fought against rubbing her eyes so she wouldn’t smear her mascara.
 

“And there’s your cab,” he said, pointing to the right.

She bid him goodnight and headed towards the cab. But something tugged at Vania and she looked over her shoulder. Evan stood there, openly watching her. Anyone would assume he was being cautious, ensuring she got in the cab safely, but something told Vania that Evan was waiting for her to turn back around and walk straight into his arms.

Part of her wanted to.

Chapter 3

Three Months Later

“I still can’t believe I made it to the top floor,” Vania said as she stepped through the lobby of The Easton Hotel. Each day she pinched herself, but it wasn’t a dream.
 

“Stayed for three months,” Cora whispered, “which is a feat in itself, considering we have to work side by side with the Easton men. They are —"

“Not human.” Vania held her breath as they passed the coffee shop. The last thing she needed to add to her jiggling ass was a chocolate croissant and a double mocha latte. She’d fallen in that trap during the first three weeks of her promotion and still held the extra fifteen pounds to prove it.
 
A week from now, she would be staring down the business end of her thirty-fifth birthday. Instead of losing weight as she’d planned, Vania had gained instead.

Cora glanced back. “Speaking of inhuman, there’s a blonde god behind you, staring at your ass. He has sexually diabolical stuff on his mind. I can tell.”

Vania fought not to look. “Then he’s the odd man out by liking it. My ass is in disproportion when compared to the rest of my body.”

“Men drool over it wherever we go,” Cora argued. “You would feel highly complimented, if you turned around and looked at the blonde god still staring at you.”

Vania adjusted her navy blue pencil skirt. “I’m not looking so drop it.”
 
A whiff of cinnamon sneaked in her nose; she groaned and walked faster, closing the distance to the elevators.
 

Cora hit the elevator’s call button. “You’re going frigid, my friend.”

“Because I won’t gawk at a complete stranger?”

“It’s more than that and you know it.”

“Drop it, Cora.”

“Your luscious Matt’s not putting out.”

Vania couldn’t begin to have this conversation. Even her stomach protested with an angry wail. “I’m starving.”

Cora studied Vania for a long moment, finally deciding to drop the Matt issue. “Instead of working through your lunch break, you should have joined the rest of us.”
 
She rubbed her stomach. “I had tacos de asador.”

“Too bad you didn’t bring me any.”