Taste

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Authors: B.J. Harvey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Contemporary, #90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), #Contemporary Fiction, #Single Authors

BOOK: Taste
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TASTE

Copyright © 2015 by BJ Harvey

 

Edited by Lauren McKellar

Cover Designed by BJ Harvey

Photo sourced from Dollar Photo Club

 

ISBN: Epub - 978-0-9941257-8-1

ISBN: Mobi – 978-0-9941257-5-0

 

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Sneak Preview: Feel

About the Author

Author Links

Other Books by BJ Harvey

 

 

 

 

 

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I checked into another hotel under my mom’s maiden name a few hours after leaving Barrett and Gavin in the restaurant corridor. I’d called the Sovereign reception desk from the taxi, asking them to collect my things and check me out. The last thing I wanted was Gavin to get involved. Half an hour later, my taxi swung back into the hotel driveway, and as requested, Bart stood on the curb with my luggage.

Hiding away from everyone was for my peace of mind more than anything else. Whatever Gavin had hired Barrett to do, it included circumventing normal hotel security to get to me. At the time it had not struck me as being anything other than a determined and enterprising mind. I should’ve been more suspicious and questioned him further over his evasive answers to my questions. When I thought about it, I wondered if he had ever given me a straight honest answer.

After the events at lunchtime, I felt deceived and betrayed. For a woman who was normally self-sufficient, confident and not easily rattled, I felt uneasy, even with Aiden’s assurances that he would find out everything there was to know about Barrett Matthews.

Aiden offered to come straight to me, volunteering to jump on the next plane and be at my side in mere hours. I couldn’t tell him what had happened; I was too embarrassed. A thirty-one year old independent woman getting conned—however that may have come about—was too much for me to admit to. Aiden didn’t ask me any questions, just promised to run the check and get back to me in a few hours with the preliminary findings.

That gave me some relief. Enough that I poured myself a glass of white wine and a deep bubble bath to try and take care of at least some of the tension that pulled my body tight.

I’d sent my mom a text in the car and explained that I wasn’t feeling well and would call her tomorrow before my flight home. Then I turned my phone off. I already had three missed calls from Barrett by then, and I didn’t want the torture of seeing his name flash on my screen. I hated lying to her, but I didn’t have it in me to rain on her parade and sour her good mood. Whatever I found out about Gavin and Barrett, I wanted to know everything before I told her what had happened.

There was a small part of me that still held on to the hope that I’d misconstrued what I heard. That somehow it was taken out of context and that—in time—Gavin would explain exactly what he’d meant. It would still never excuse what Barrett had done.

Unfortunately, there was a larger part of me that was more realistic, well-worn from years of working as a top-level executive—and now owner—of a typically male-dominated environment. I should’ve been suspicious of Barrett’s dogged pursuit of me. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been the object of male attention in the past, just never from one as fervent as Barrett. I was too swayed by lust and need whenever I was around him. I should’ve remembered what my father always said: ‘Even if it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck . . . it still might not be a duck.’

It was later—much later—when a hard, loud knock at my hotel room door woke me. I got up off my bed, looking down to see a white toweling robe and nothing else. When the knock came again, this time louder, harder, and definitely more impatient-sounding, I had my fingers wrapped around the handle.

Looking through the peephole, I was shocked to see an incensed Barrett glaring back at me. He wore the same clothes from the restaurant—a tailored dark gray shirt, black tie loose and askew, and black slacks. In short, he looked irresistible.

Having stewed on everything for hours, I saw red, and I didn’t think before I swung the door open and came face to face with him.

“You have some n—” I didn’t get any more words out because he stormed in, hooked an arm around my waist and swallowed the sound of my shocked gasp by sticking his tongue in my mouth. The hotel door slammed shut under the power of his foot, and then walked forward, taking me with him until my back hit the wall.

My hands gripped his shoulders and my nails dug into his shirt. They were pulled loose before he laced our fingers together and pressed them into the wall beside my head. Barrett devoured my mouth, setting my entire body ablaze. With his thigh wedged high between my legs, he pushed harder against me until we had full hip to chest contact.

It wasn’t a soft or anywhere near gentle exchange—it was the physical manifestation of the raw, carnal need exploding between us. As he held my body prisoner, he set out to take everything he wanted from my mouth. Unable to stop myself, I surrendered, and our tongues began the battle for supremacy.

My anger returned in full force and I bit his bottom lip and pushed him back. “No, Barrett. There’s nothing you could say to me that will make this okay anymore.” Everything he’d done and said to me over the past two days flashed in my mind and I shoved him back further. “You lied to me. You used me!”

“I can’t tell you about it,
any
of it.” He took a deep breath before he leveled me with a somber stare. “I’m sorry, Lys. I just can’t tell you anything right now, but I had to see you.”

“You took your time for someone who found me so easily the first time.”

“I’ve been waiting. When you didn’t answer my calls, I knew you needed time.”

“How very
thoughtful
of you,” I scathed.

When he spoke next his voice was gentle. “The only way to tell you how I feel is to show you.”

A scathing laugh escapes me. “You think I’d still want to sleep with you after hearing you say you’re a ‘rent a cock’?”

“I’m not being paid to fuck you, Lys,” he retorts sternly on a growl.

“I wouldn’t know, would I? There must be
something
you need from me, and Gavin told you to do whatever you had to do. That means me, right?” I threw my arms out wildly in front of my body. My voice was full of spite and resentment, only shaking on the last word. I swallowed back the hard lump in my throat that threatened to choke me.

“Alyssa,” he groaned. He ran his fingers through his hair and tilted his head to the side. “I never meant to hurt you. I want
you.
Just you.” His heated glare pinned me to the spot. His deep blue eyes were not hiding anything. It was as if he wanted me to see his sincerity.

I was lost for words. Everything I had imagined saying to him if I ever saw him again escaped me. My body had been set alight by the taste of his mouth and the thrum of lust coursing through my veins. I subconsciously licked along my bottom lip and in the blink of an eye he took a step forward, pressed me back against the wall and cupped my jaw. His body was hard against mine and his tongue traced the same trail mine had just taken.

Unable to stop it, my body melted. Something in him snapped and he growled loud and rough into my mouth. Needing more, and losing all semblance of self-control, I bent my leg up and pushed us off the wall, wrenching my hands free from his. He went for my wrists again but I beat him to the punch, grabbing hold of his shirt before I ripped it open and used my two hands on his chest to push him onto the bed.

Following him down, I moved my legs to straddle his hips. My robe fell open and my back arched as he fisted his hand in my hair. He tilted my head to the side and his mouth trailed along my neck to kiss his way roughly down my chest. His free hand ran up my side to cup one breast as he lifted it to his mouth and wrapped his lips around my hard nipple.

Having his mouth on me was infinitesimally better than I had imagined, and my head fell back as I moaned, “Barrett . . .” Then he scraped his teeth against my sensitive peak as he released his mouth, and I cried out.

“Fucking beautiful,” he said, before he gave my other nipple the same torturous treatment. I looked down and watched his face as he worshipped my breasts. It was rough yet gentle, hard yet soft. We hadn’t even gotten down to business and I was more turned on than I thought possible.

“Barr—” His hand tugged my head down, my lips crashing into his, teeth clinking before our tongues entwined, and his hand snaked down between our bodies. I straddled his thighs with my knees and lifted my body above him. This gave his hand the room it needed to slide between my legs. He gutturally groaned into my mouth as his first finger trailed down to my entrance before he slowly pushed it inside me. “You’re so fucking wet, Lys. All for me,” he said as he pulled his finger out then back in, adding a second finger, then a third, filling me tight and full. His thumb moved around my clit in dizzying circles, teasing me by touching me everywhere except where he knew I needed him.

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