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Authors: Emily Jane Trent

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4 – The Appointment

The next morning Ryan sat at his desk, staring at his appointment calendar. He had a meeting with his agent and an important luncheon.

He cared about none of it. He could not escape the vision of the beautiful woman that was in his arms last night. The light aroma of roses and the touch of her creamy, smooth skin haunted his every moment.

The quiet of his downtown office, one he maintained for an investment business he had started, only made it worse. There was nothing to distract him from his thoughts. She would surely drive him crazy.

But he couldn’t call because she didn’t even know who he was. The only consolation was the appointment he’d scheduled for late in the day. Patricia, his trusted personal assistant, had booked it at his request. She had to pull some strings, but it was all set. He just had to make it through the day until then.

***

Heather mirrored his tone as she sat at her own desk in an office not far away on Wilshire Boulevard. She hadn’t slept much the night before. After the party, she’d gone straight home, stripped naked, and buried herself in her soft bed. But it was no comfort. She remained aroused.

The orgasm she experienced while in his arms only served to excite her. Her clit remained hard, despite the orgasm. She couldn’t put aside the memory of how erotic he looked standing there, black silk mask still in place, with his penis hard and erect as she disappeared from the room.

She looked over at the young girl just outside her office. Jenna Burke had been her secretary for several years now and they’d become friends. She was glad for that today, because she didn’t have to put on pretenses.

“Jenna,” she called. The strawberry blond ponytail swished when Jenna swiveled her chair and bounced up to see what Heather required.

The last thing Heather needed today was a new client. She could barely focus on work at all.

“What’s this appointment with a new client downtown? I’m full up. Doing commissioned work is very personal. You know it takes time for each piece. I thought I made it clear that I couldn’t take on more paintings for at least a month.”

“Yes, I‘m aware of that, but Monica still calls the shots around here. I told her you were busy. She says this client can’t wait. And he’s a VIP.” Jenna’s cheerfulness almost rubbed off on Heather, except she was still agitated over this new development.

“They are all VIP.”

Jenna stared at Heather for a moment. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

Heather blushed. “You won’t believe what I did last night. I don’t believe it myself.”

Jenna waited, not blinking.

“Sit down, Jenna. I need to talk. Please shut the door.”

***

It didn’t seem like Jenna had moved a muscle through the whole recounting of last night’s event. It was quite a romantic tale, especially with some of the more sexual details omitted.

Heather ended the erotic tale with, “I don’t even know his name.”

“I could find out,” Jenna offered. “After all, how many men look like you describe and were wearing a black silk mask at last night’s party?”

“Don’t you dare say a word about
it. I’ll die of embarrassment if anyone finds out. The last thing I want is for him to know I’m asking about him.”

“Whatever you say.”
Jenna shrugged.

“And don’t give me that look.” Heather rolled her eyes.

“Heather, we’re friends. I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you. I just want you to be happy again. Just because you had your heart broken doesn’t mean you won’t find love again. Really, it won’t do any harm to have a look at the guest list from last night. I could get it from Monica.”

“No, definitely not!”

Jenna shook her head and walked slowly from the room. “Okay, then. That envelope on your desk includes all the details, including the address. It’s confirmed for this afternoon.”

Heather briefly considered calling Monica and telling her she couldn’t make it. But Monica Walker managed several commissioned artists. She ha
d all the right connections and wasn’t someone easy to say “no” to. There was no choice—she’d have to go.

5 – The Limo Ride

Heather slid into the backseat of the Mercedes. She needed to relax, so decided to take the company transportation. It was unseemly to arrive to a client’s office driving your own car. Monica made sure that a limo was available for any Walker’s Private Painting appointments. Monica Walker knew the value of appearances, if anyone did.

Heather settled into the plush leather seat. It was a beautiful time of year in Los Angeles. The clear blue skies and pleasantly cool temperature of the April afternoon boosted her morale.

The address was printed on the outside of the envelope, a well-known downtown office building, so the driver would have no trouble getting her there. The short drive would be just enough time for Heather to look at the details of the project.

She opened the square envelope and extracted the contents. On top was a color photo of the client. Monica always stressed that knowing the client was key to delivering the perfect painting. Heather picked up the photo to look more closely.

Her heart skipped a beat. The gorgeous male face looking back at her was enough to take anyone’s breath away. And yet, there was something else.

That strong jaw, those male lips with a definite cupid’s bow, was all too familiar. And the thick, sexy eyebrows followed the round shape of those piercing gray-green eyes.

Oh, God! It was him. Even without the black silk mask, she couldn’t mistake him. The butterflies in her stomach and her pounding heart told her she was in trouble.
Breathe, Heather, breathe
, she told herself.

She tried to think calmly, but it was useless. She was going in to meet a new client that she already knew intimately. Worse yet, she’d have to pretend she didn’t know he was the man from the party last night.

She could possibly get through this meeting without being discovered. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to recognize her from the night before. She looked entirely different today. No red lipstick, just a nice mauve to go with her Ann Taylor tweed jacket. And she had her hair up today. Yes, a totally different look. She reassured herself that he wouldn’t be able to tell. But she wasn’t entirely convinced.

She almost forgot to look at the rest of the details. It was important to know how the client answered the initial questionnaire and understand what they had in mind.

Across the top of the form were the words “Ryan Spencer Blake,” confirming what she already knew. She laid her head back against the soft seat and closed her eyes. Maybe if she kept them closed, this would all go away.

The most-loved male star on the big screen had commissioned a painting and asked for her to be the artist.
Great, just great
. Under other circumstances, she would have been thrilled.

These were not normal circumstances. And there was no way out. As she’d so recently learned, you don’t refuse Ryan Blake. Plus, he could pay plenty for the painting he wanted. In fact, he could pay any price. That fact struck her with impact. Ryan Blake got what he wanted—and last night, he
had wanted her.

She stuffed the rest of the pages back in the envelope. She couldn’t bear to look at them. It was standard protocol to be familiar with the client’s request before the meeting, but nothing about this meeting was protocol.

6 – The Office

Ryan was much more comfortable in his Armani jeans than he had been in the designer suit last night. All the women swooned over his muscled thighs in the tight jeans. But he just wore what he liked. Being a star did have privileges, and wearing what you liked was one of them.

He did compromise by wearing his lambskin leather blazer over a gray fitted T-shirt. He thought of it as professionally casual. Maybe he could start a new trend.

He turned to look out the window of his office. He was on the top floor, so the view of downtown was impressive.

He heard a soft knock at the door and turned to press a button on his desk to allow entry. Patricia opened the door enough to step inside and announced, “Your three o’clock appointment is here, sir.”

Ryan felt warmth radiate through his body and noticed the beating of his heart. Patricia continued to stand in the doorway.

“Sure, show her in.”

There was that aroma of roses growing in the sun. The scent was as real as if he were holding her in his arms.

“Mr. Blake, this is Heather Ann Lawson.” Heather stepped into the room and up to the polished desk as gracefully as she could muster.

Patricia handed Ryan a glossy, gold-embossed business card and promptly turned and left the room. He vaguely heard the click of the heavy door, locking after it closed behind her.

Heather gave a slightly embarrassed smile and placed the notebook she carried on the edge of the desk. She had determined to be professional, nice but professional, to get through this visit.

Ryan looked directly at her and she leaned forward, offering her right hand. “It’s a
pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blake.”

The hunk of a man, now in washed jeans that fit him a little too perfectly, came around the desk to greet her. As he came nearer, Heather’s pulse sped up, completely out of her control.

He stood there, endlessly patient, and Heather hoped she wouldn’t pass out. She could smell the utter maleness of him, pheromones even his sexy cologne couldn’t fully mask. She had the urge to have him pull her into his arms and continue where they left off last night.

Noticing how uncomfortable she was, Ryan had a gleam in his eye. He politely took the hand she’d offered and held it briefly. “Please, Ms. Lawson, have a seat.” He returned to the other side of the desk and removed his black blazer, which he hung over the back of the chair.

He spoke the usual pleasantries and offered coffee or water, if she’d like. Heather didn’t really hear anything. She was just glad to be sitting before she fainted for real. He looked chiseled in the tight T-shirt that stretched across his chest and biceps in the most seductive way.

She saw him looking at her, waiting for a response, and she blushed, realizing she hadn’t heard the question. She was staring at his handsome face. Seeing all of it in person, sans black silk mask, was amazing. She wondered how anyone could be so attractive.

“I’m sorry. What was the question?”

Ryan gave a soft laugh and the masculine tone seemed to radiate through the room. No wonder women fell all over him.

She realized he was asking if she’d reviewed the outline for the painting.

“Well, ah, normally I do. But I just have a feeling that this is a special project. I prefer to hear it from you, personally.”

Ryan was more than happy to describe the painting he had in mind. And Heather was more than content to let him talk on and on, so she could watch him. He carefully outlined the details of what he envisioned.

Heather became aware of the wetness between her legs. She hoped to get through the
meeting without a wet spot showing on her skirt. Just being this close to him was too unnerving. She tried to push the thoughts of last night’s interlude away. But they wouldn’t go. In fact, her desire was only increasing. It was hopeless.

Heather noticed Ryan was very emotional about the painting he was describing, in exquisite detail. This only served to increase her arousal.

Ryan found that telling Heather about the painting stirred feelings deep within him. Not that he needed that. Just having her right here within reach had his cock hard. And the tight jeans were not going to do anything to cover it up. He had other plans anyway.

What he wanted right now was to go around beside her, pull her up, and kiss her passionately. He wanted to feel the soft inside of her mouth, touch her tongue. He felt the urge to lift her skirt and feel his warm cock press against her soft, smooth abdomen. He was losing control.

He had reached the end of the description and was looking at Heather. She did not reply. The heat of the meeting had risen noticeably. Heather began to wonder if she had even a prayer of keeping her composure.

What happened next answered the question with finality. Silently, Ryan stood up and walked around the desk. His pupils looked dilated and the expression on his face left no doubt of the feeling burning inside.

For a moment, Heather desperately looked away, toward the huge window framing the skyscrapers that etched a jagged design against the bright blue sky. It occurred to her that she was once again drawn to this charismatic male, who seemed completely uninhibited about intimate sexual interludes with women he barely knew.

Never before had she reacted like she did last night. She’d had no defense against the strength of the attraction. And with the masks, they’d likely never see each other again. Or so she had thought then.

As fate would have it, she was here with him again. It struck her that he didn’t know she was the same person he’d held in his arms only hours before. She felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t revealed herself as soon as she’d arrived.

He pulled her to her feet with urgency. She thought to resist. The shreds of her plan to keep her composure fell away. She looked into his eyes, burning with desire. She didn’t care about anything else. She wanted him. There was only now. She wanted him now.

Ryan thrust his left hand behind her head and took a handful of her thick, glossy hair, the blond curls falling in disarray. With his right hand behind her trim waist, his mouth slanted over hers and pressed into a hard kiss.

His tongue found the inside of her mouth and licked her tongue. Heather heard herself softly moan. She felt his hand move inside her jacket and sensually massage her right shoulder.

Ryan moved to kiss her neck in a sweet series of soft, erotic touches. Then he licked down her throat to the top of her silk blouse. He quickly undid the top buttons and reached in the right side of her lacy bra to free a lovely, rounded breast.

He seemed to gasp for a moment. The pale, creamy skin of the soft breast contrasted with the little pink nipple and made him harden with desire. He began to suck the nipple gently and move his tongue in circles around it.

Heather’s clit was a tight, tiny knot. She craved release. The lust for this man, this amazingly sexy male, welled up inside her. Her hands found the top of his jeans. She hastily undid them to release the warm, hard cock into her hand. She breathed in his male sexual aroma.

The knowledge that he was once again not wearing any underwear incited her. Such virility needed no covering. She longed to hold the hard shaft in her mouth.

She looked in awe at the beautifully formed cock and began to stroke it with loving touches. She rubbed gently at first, then faster and harder. She stopped to reach between his masculine thighs and hold his balls in her hand. He groaned in response. Encouraged, she squeezed gently and then extended her middle finger just behind his warm balls to rub the sensitive perineum.

Ryan rewarded her with pre-cum. In a sudden urge, Heather dropped to her knees and
pulled his jeans down to his knees. She leaned in to lick the thick liquid off the swollen tip with her tongue, holding his tight ass with both hands.

He had both hands in her hair and gripped handfuls of it, pressing her closer to him. “Ah, Heather,” he gasped.

Ryan bent slightly and reached down under her arms to pull her up to him. He showered kisses wildly over her neck then lowered her carefully onto the desk. They looked lustily into each other’s eyes.

He gently released the other sensual breast from its lace cover and kissed one nipple then the other. Heather felt herself tighten, her core begging for him, her responsive clit desperate to be rubbed. Aware of her need, he reached under her skirt and moved aside the thin lace.

His touch, familiar from the night before, set off a craving in her that would not be denied. She arched her back, pushing up toward him. He played teasingly with her clit, stopping just before she went over the edge. Alternately, he placed two fingers inside her, sliding them in and out easily in her wetness.

A little shock went through her when he rubbed a spot inside her, just the right spot. It felt so good. She wanted to come so badly.

She thought of pulling his hard cock deep inside her. In the next second, she felt a wave of pleasure course through her. She was panting and her breath sped up in tempo with the soft rubbing motion of his fingers.

Then he put his thumb on her clit and she gave a muffled scream. She was gone. Her body flooded with pleasure. The world was centered with her lover’s hand rubbing her little clit, in just the right rhythm, unrelenting, unstoppable.

She shrieked and gripped his shoulders with both her hands, stiffening as the orgasm overtook her. There was no shyness, only the pure giving and receiving of pleasure.

The waves of the orgasm rolled through her, never wanting to stop. She felt a familiar glow warming her body, not caring where she was, as long as she was with him.

She opened her eyes, looking deeply into burning gaze. His arousal was strong and his hot, hard cock pressed insistently against her bare abdomen.

“Heather,” he whispered in a deep voice. “You are just as amazing as last night, my love. I was desperate to have you again.”

His words struck her hard, as if he’d slapped her in the face. Last night, he said. He knew and yet pretended! She felt embarrassed.

“You—you knew?”

Ryan realized too late that he’d said the wrong thing. He could not take it back. He made a feeble attempt to make it right.

“Yes, of course. I knew. I saw you go into the party.”

“But I’d never seen you in person before. We were wearing masks. We were disguised. We were…”

“I’d never forget a beauty like you. Those sensual blond curls, those pouty lips, that cute little round ass.” Oh no, that was the wrong thing to say. He could tell by her expression.

She pushed against his chest to move him off of her. She got up from the desk, pulling up her lacy bra and adjusting her panties. She was a mess.

“You knew who I was last night and didn’t say so!” It wasn’t a question.

Ryan roughly pulled up his jeans and fell into the chair. Sexual frustration be damned.

He quickly tried to fill in the blanks to satisfy her, seeing her falling away from him. He feared losing her.

“I saw you. I remembered you from Steve Jenkins’ house. We’re friends. We’ve worked on several films together. I stopped by the same day you dropped off his finished painting. I was just pulling up as you walked down the brick stairs to climb into your waiting limo.

“I’ll never forget the vision of you, gliding down those stairs in your short skirt, jacket
blowing open, revealing those lovely breasts under your thin blouse. Even from a distance, you were a sight. Those lips, your blond curls bouncing against your cheeks as you slipped away, disappearing inside the limo door the driver held open.

“I thought about you for weeks afterward. Steve told me who you were. He showed me the painting you’d done for him. I have to say, I was impressed. Your passion is reflected in your work. You’re a passionate woman, Heather.

“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I try to avoid parties if I can. They bore me as a rule. But I happened to see the guest list Patricia left on her desk. I recognized your name. That was my chance to meet you. Patricia was likely surprised that I didn’t resist her encouragement to attend. I normally would have found a reason to decline. It was a big event with all the right people.

“I had no interest in all that. My only interest was you. I arrived a little early that night. Once again, you walked right in front of me, entering the party. That gown was very fetching, I must say. Tight gold strapless evening gowns are brought to life with your softly rounded feminine shape.

“I was delighted to see you arrive. Of course, the masks created a unique situation. We were supposed to be incognito. I probably would have just introduced myself as soon as we were alone, but you have to admit that the emotional tone in the library last night didn’t lend itself to polite introductions.”

“No, it didn’t!” Heather snapped. Ryan’s confession gave her time to realize what had really happened. He had seen her, he wanted her. Well, he got her. Of course, he got what he wanted. What woman in her right mind would reject Ryan Spencer Blake?

The answer to that was obvious. What was also obvious was that now that he’d had her, there was no challenge. She’s given herself to him with reckless abandon, not once, but twice. She was appalled at herself.

Ryan, as stunning as any Greek god she’d seen, could have any woman he wanted. And she was sure he’d had many. Now, she was just one more conquest.

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