Dirty Business: Fantasies Unleashed 1 (2 page)

“Ms. Adams,” he said, as if he weren’t a couple of decades older. “I’m looking forward to your keynote tomorrow at lunch.”

“Thank you,” she said. “That’s very kind.”

“And I’m glad to run into you tonight. I’ve got a strategic opportunity I think you’d be interested in. Monitor is expanding—”

“Excuse me, Ms. Adams.” Evan stepped closer. “You have an important call.” He held out his phone. Some people thought she should hire security guards for events like this, but while Evan might not be prize-fighter-sized, he was good at shutting down these usually harmless and always unwanted encounters.

“I’m sorry, Greg.” Vicky took the phone. “I need to take this. Please contact my office to set something up.” Vicky put the phone to her ear and pretended to listen to the audio book Evan had playing until Greg walked away. She handed the telephone back to Evan. “Thank you.”

“Always, boss.” The young man grinned. “How long do you plan to stay at this thing?”

“Another half hour or so. Long enough to have registered an appearance.” It seemed rude to the organizers not to show.

As she turned back to the crowd, she brought her champagne flute to her lips, taking a bigger sip than normal. As skilled as she was in every other facet of business, she’d never mastered the large cocktail party, and while her reluctance to mingle at such events added to her Ice Queen image, she preferred doing business in a more controlled manner. And it was not like anyone ever wanted to talk to her about anything else.

A tall, thin man caught her eye and lumbered toward her, his buckteeth fitting perfectly with his buzz cut and protruding ears. Definitely not one of Eleanor’s men.

He staggered to the side, then over-corrected, almost falling in the other direction, raising his glass and smiling as if he thought his moves were suave. She felt bad for the guy, but if there was anything worse than being hit up for business deals at cocktail parties, it was having it happen with a man who was obviously drunk.

She touched Evan’s arm. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

“Sure, boss.” He started to follow, but she stopped him. “I think I can manage this alone. Keep that guy from following, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

Evan was very good at running interference, but at the moment she wanted to be alone. Just for a few minutes. And maybe it would give the man from Fantasies Unleashed a chance to approach.

Stopping just past the restrooms, in a narrow corridor that led to a service area, she leaned back against the wall. Her feet were killing her. She stepped out of one shoe and flexed her foot. The platform pumps might give her an extra six inches in height, but they weren’t meant for walking, and every destination in these Vegas hotels seemed a mile apart.

“You as bored in there as I am?” a deep voice said.

She turned to see an amazingly gorgeous man in what looked like a rent-a-tux. He loosened his cheap-looking bow tie.

“That depends on how bored you are,” she said. Was this him? It had to be. He certainly didn’t look like a CEO or captain of industry. She was almost disappointed in Eleanor that she didn’t provide better clothes for her staff.

He extended his hand. “I’m—”

“Let’s not exchange names.”

“Okay.” He tipped his head to the side as she took his hand. He didn’t pump her arm ferociously like some men did, but his handshake wasn’t weak either, and his fingers, warm and strong, engulfed hers.

He held her hand longer than was necessary and she brushed her thumb against his palm as she let go.

“You here for the conference?” he asked.

Final evidence that this was Eleanor’s man. Anyone really attending the conference would know who she was. “I sure am. And you?”

“Kind of.”

“Either you are or you’re not.” She shifted her weight back onto the foot with the shoe, and rose up to within five or six inches of his considerable height.

“In that case, I suppose that I’m here.” He pulled his name tag partway out of his pocket and grinned. “At least they gave me a badge when I signed in.”

She was impressed that Eleanor had gone to the expense of registering her man. The conference was pricy. She’d left her badge with Evan.

The man’s eyes sparkled in the light cast from gleaming wall sconces, and she drew in a long breath, enjoying her view of this handsome man with piercing blue eyes that were almost out of place with his dark hair and tanned skin. His jaw was squared, giving him the look of an athlete or lumberjack, but there was intelligence in his eyes. She didn’t remember his photograph from the portfolio, but she’d only skimmed.

“I love your eyes,” he said. “Such a deep brown.”

“Really?” She cocked up one eyebrow. “Is that the best you can do?”

He laughed, and it was a deep belly laugh—genuine. “You don’t take any crap, do you?”

She tugged on the loose end of his bow tie, untying the knot. “No, I don’t.” She looked directly into his eyes and, even with him bending down, even with her shoe-enhanced height, he was so much taller. And so sexy. How many years had it been since she’d looked so into a man’s eyes with nothing but sex on her mind? Without business, or donations, or the usual power struggles?

Heat raced through her that built in her chest and quickly spread in all directions. This man was sex on a stick, yet not how she’d expected a sex worker to be. He seemed self-assured, not at all cheesy, and while he didn’t fit in with the crowd back in the ballroom, he stood out in a good way. He was more real and natural than any of those posers fighting to climb up various ladders.

She stepped back into her other shoe, but her heel didn’t slide in.

“Let me.” He went down on his knee and took her shoe in one hand, her calf in the other. Looking up and into her eyes, he skillfully eased her foot into the shoe. His hand, hot and hard, rested on her skin longer than was needed, and she didn’t try to hide how that made her feel. She licked her lips as heat tingled up from his hand to land straight in her sex.

Seeming to understand what she wanted—either because of her expression, or more likely because he was good at his job—he stayed on one knee and assuredly slid his hand up her leg. He moved slowly, his palm cupping the back of her calf, his thumb brushing with just the right amount of pressure over her shin. Reaching her knee, his fingers stroked to send vibrations tracing up her thigh to scald her insides.

Her cheeks flamed to match the fire in her sex, and she looked around to make sure they were still alone. A big part of her fantasy was keeping her sexcapades secret, an inside joke she’d hold over everyone who’d be hearing her speak. She relished the idea of fooling everyone who’d be sucking up to the ‘Ice Queen’ over the course of the conference.

“Let’s go somewhere,” he said, and without waiting for an answer, he rose, wrapped his arm solidly around her waist and guided her toward the service door.

Taking her hand, he pulled her along the hallway, filled with metal racks and other hotel equipment, walking so quickly she almost had to run.

He opened a door. “In here.” He pulled her into the dark space, illuminated only by a tiny red emergency light.

Pressing her back against the closed door, he captured her mouth in a ravenous kiss. His lips tasted of champagne and something salty, and then her sense of taste was overridden by the physical sensations from his tongue and his lips. His large hands held her head where he wanted, demanding that her mouth be exactly where his lips and tongue and teeth commanded.

She arched against him, the bulge in his pants hitting her mid-belly, and he groaned as he pulled back from her lips.

“You are so hot,” he said.

“You, too.” And so far he was good at his job. But saying that out loud would ruin the illusion, so instead of talking she arched again, rubbing her body against his arousal.

Grabbing her, he turned her abruptly. She raised her arms and braced herself against the door as his hands roamed the sides of her body, squeezed her ass, and then rose to cup her small breasts. He pinched her hardened nipples as he pressed his lips against her neck, then his teeth.

Her breath caught. He’d better not leave a mark.

On second thought, she didn’t care. She could wear high-necked suits for the rest of the conference. Or scarves. Hiding bite marks and hickeys might add to the thrill. More evidence of her non-Ice-Queen status filed away from view.

He pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress, and the lights went on. Startled, she tried to turn, but he held her in place. One hand was on her belly, the other between her shoulder blades.

“Lights on.” His voice was husky and deep. “I want to see you.”

She relaxed and let him draw down her strapless dress, revealing a magenta bra and thong panties that belied the conservative cut of the black silk garment that had covered them. She almost wished she’d worn stockings, the kind with a garter, but who had those anymore? Besides, it was better that her legs were bared to his touch.

He kept at least one hand on her at all times as he helped her step out of the dress he then tossed onto what looked like a laundry cart. She was planning to object, or at least have him check that the bin wasn’t full of dirty tablecloths, but his hand reached around her body to grab solidly between her legs.

Her head dropped back, striking his chest, and his other hand landed at her throat, holding it there, her pulse under his hand, while his other hand stroked, soft then hard, pushing against the thin satin of her panties. His touch drew forward to graze her clit, then teased back, making her so hot, so wet. She felt sure all the blood in her body had rushed to congregate under his hands at her throat and clit.

Pressing her ass back, she grazed him, and he groaned deep in his chest. This didn’t feel like a performance at all, and she made a mental note to make sure he got a good tip. A thousand at least.

But before she could fully register the thought, his hands were hard on her hips, and he was crouched, his lips pressed into the small of her back. His tongue circled and stroked her skin there, as his hands claimed her ass, caressing, kneading, and occasionally dipping to slide between her legs.

“Fuck me,” she said without thinking. “Fuck me now.”

She heard the tear of foil, then a zipper, and before she could take a full breath, his cock was pressed against her ass. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and his foot nudged her legs wider. He tugged her thin panties to the side and drove into her hard, lifting her onto her toes.

She pushed back, wanting him deeper, wanting him to fill her, possess her.

He grabbed the edge of her neck with one hand, while his other pressed low on her belly so hard it was like he hoped to feel the pressure of his cock from the outside as he glided in and out, stretching her, forcing himself even deeper.

Just as she was getting used to the friction, the depth, the pace, he pulled out almost all the way. She pressed back, wanting more, as he pushed forward with a few shallow thrusts. Teasing her, his hand pressed down on her mound, tantalizingly close to her clit. His fingers were close, but not quite there, keeping her wanting more, so much more.

Thrusting deeply again, he drove with such force she nearly fell forward, but she recovered, ready for the next and the next and the next, pressing her hips back to accept the force of his powerful drives.

Close to her ear, his breath grew hot and fast and the sounds he made deep in his chest vibrated against her back, heightening the building sensations inside her. She was lost in the rhythm, lost in the pleasure, in the sheer decadence of the act. This was bliss, and she never wanted it to end.

But his cock left her without warning. Lifting her, he turned her around and pressed her back against the door. The color of his eyes seemed to have darkened to the color of twilight and he touched his forehead to hers, panting. She was panting too.

In one fluid movement, he tucked his hands under her thighs and lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist, spreading her. He penetrated again, holding himself deep inside her for several beats, then pulling out most of the way. Moving one hand to the wall for support, he thrust slowly, sliding in and out of her one luxurious inch at a time.

His face was strained as if he were holding himself back. Looking into her eyes, he asked, “Who
are
you?”

Before she could reply, his pace quickened. He drove into her so fast and so hard that she sensed he’d lost all control, that he couldn’t stop or slow down even if he wanted, even if she asked, even if she screamed. Never had she felt so taken, so captured, so wanted—not because of who she was, or what money she had, but because she was sexy, because his eyes and hands liked her body, because his cock liked her cunt.

As he drove faster and higher, each stroke hit hard and deep, and with each strike, the edge of her panties rubbed her clit, radiating pleasure that spread from his cock, up through her belly and chest to her throat and her face, until she was engulfed in what she was feeling, every part of her under the thrall of the contact between cock and cunt.

She exploded, her insides convulsing around his aggressive strokes, and all she could do was shudder against him. His back flexed and tensed, and he raised his head to look into her eyes. Veins rose on his face, and his tanned skin turned red, like every ounce of blood in his body had just rushed from his cock to his face. He came with a shouted curse so loud she was sure a hundred members of the hotel security staff would come running.

With a deep rush of breath he collapsed forward, holding her, protecting her head from the wall and helping her slide her feet from around his back to the floor. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he slid his hands down to gently caress her sensitive breasts through her thin lace bra.

“That was amazing,” he said. “You’re amazing. Spend the night with me?”

She stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, now damp with sweat. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

“Fuck necessary,” he said. “I want to hold you. I want to get to know you. And . . . if you give me some time to recover, I want to fuck you again.”