By the time I reached my door, she’d given me the deets.
Kate: 8:30. The Rapture, that new club at The Extravagant. I hear the people-watching there is top-notch.
Jake: I’ll be there. Will you have your field guide out, like a naughty research scientist?
Kate: As a matter of fact . . .
As my elevator shot up to the top floor, I stared at her last text, wondering what the rest of her sentence might be. She didn’t continue, though, so I took the initiative and finished it. Because I had a hunch about what she wanted.
Jake: As a matter of fact, we’ll be people-watching and more?
Kate: Yes. Does that work for you?
Jake: Anything works for me. Everything works for me. “More” works fantastically well for me. “More” is exactly what I want with you.
Kate: I had a feeling it might be.
Jake: And I have a feeling more works for you too.
Kate: Well, I AM asking you for it!
Jake: Yes, and I like your initiative. Let me tell you about mine. I plan on whispering filthy words in your ear as we watch others. I bet that works for you.
Kate: How did you know?
She wasn’t coy or sassy. She didn’t say, However did you know?
She seemed legitimately curious how I’d discovered the key to Kate.
And maybe the answer wasn’t hard to find at all.
Perhaps I was good at reading her. Maybe this preference of hers was why she’d kept me at a distance for a while. Because she knew what she wanted from a man, but hadn’t quite known how to ask for it.
Maybe she hadn’t found the man who’d give it to her.
She’d found him now.
Jake: From knowing you. From how you are. From seeing those hungry, dirty eyes of yours and the way you watch people. From spending months trying to figure out what your particular kink is.
Kate: And you’ve found it.
Jake: Yes, and I’ve had my suspicions for a while. But it was clear last night when you threw down those bets. It was crystal clear when you watched those other couples dance. Your reaction gave it away.
Kate: What was my reaction?
Jake: Your eyes darkened, the skin above your cleavage flushed, your breath came a little bit faster. You were tapping into your brand of voyeurism.
Kate: *whispers* I think I do have a voyeur in me.
Jake: You absolutely do, and it’s hot as sin.
Kate: You like it?
Jake: Love it. And I loved figuring this out about you. Though I think you wanted me to figure it out. You might recall a certain day at the diner months ago when you said, “We all have different fantasies.”
Kate: And you think that was an invitation for you to figure out mine?
Jake: I do.
Kate: Maybe it was. Maybe I secretly wanted you to discover it. Have you been thinking about this before?
Jake: In the shower. Late at night in bed. I think about what might get you off.
Kate: And what do you think it will be?
Jake: Tonight, it’s going to be me. And it’ll also be you finally getting to explore your filthiest fantasies.
She didn’t reply right away, and as I unlocked the door and tossed my keys on the table, I imagined the look on her face as she read my text.
A touch of surprise maybe?
A widening of her eyes?
A knowing grin?
All of the above?
But her response surprised me.
Kate: Do you know what else happened that day at the diner? When I said we all have different fantasies, and then you said you wanted to find out mine . . . that’s when I felt that first spark of attraction for you. That’s when I started thinking about what you’d be like in bed.
Holy hell. I was an inferno already. This woman was bold, daring, and spoke her mind. Finally.
Forget being hard to read.
She was a book with the pages spread open now.
Jake: I cannot wait to show you what I want to do to your body. But I would love to know what made you change your mind.
Kate: That’s easy enough. The meeting I had today. I have to market an escort service that’s adding role-playing to its menu. I want to do an amazing job.
Jake: Ah, so you want to practice?
Kate: I do. But I also want to be up-front from the start. This thing we’re doing? How about we agree to this: one weekend, no strings, no promises, nothing more?
This was better than a high score in pinball.
No strings sounded like my favorite kind of deal, especially since my last few attempts at relationships had gone up in smoke.
Two years ago, Cassidy had told me I was a shitty boyfriend because I was married to work. “You always put clients first,” she’d said when we split.
Ouch.
That had stung because it was true.
But Debbie, my last girlfriend, was the reason I had no problem agreeing to zero attachments with Kate.
With my work schedule in the last year, I’d mostly just been interested in having fun with Debbie, and she’d said that sounded good to her too. Vibrant and carefree, Debbie loved to plan unusual dates—rock-climbing gyms, candy factory tours, laser-tag mini golf. We’d had a blast together, but after three short months of most excellent dates, Debbie changed her tune one afternoon at Red Rocks after we’d just hiked three miles.
“Let’s get married,” she’d said. “We can even do it this weekend.”
Taken by surprise would be a massive understatement.
I had no empirical issues with commitment. I wasn’t a devoted playboy, planning to swing his dick forever and ever. But neither did I want to sign up for a marriage license with someone I’d only just started dating.
Except that wasn’t the only issue.
Her taste for fun stopped at the bedroom door. And I’d considered compatibility to be vital when it came to beliefs, passions, worldviews, and, yes, the bedroom.
When Debbie issued her ultimatum, I called it quits—with her and with dating for a while.
So, Kate’s rules suited me fine.
Now I’d learn if we were as electric in the bedroom as I’d imagined we could be.
Tonight was no longer about me time.
It was about satisfying a woman who’d intrigued me for a while.
A woman I couldn’t get out of my mind.
A woman I desperately wanted.
I glanced at the clock on the wall of my living room, the time a reminder that the games would be starting soon. I wrote back to Kate.
Jake: I’m about to get in the shower. While I’m naked, I’ll be thinking of all the ways you want me to pleasure you. But I have one thing I need you to do.
Kate: What’s that?
Jake: When I see you tonight, we’re going to do more than watch and talk.
Kate: We are?
Jake: We’re going to pretend too.
Kate: Ohh . . . tell me more.
Jake: We’re going to role-play as we watch others. Think of it as a combo platter of your dirty dreams.
Kate: I like the sound of that. What’s our situation?
Jake: We’re potential business partners. We live on opposite coasts, and we’re in town for a conference. We’ve been working on a deal for months and sending emails that border on flirty and dirty. We’re meeting for a drink to seal the deal.
Kate: I bet the drink turns to something more.
Jake: Only one way to find out.
10
Jake
She looked like a woman on the brink.
As I headed into the Rapture, wearing jeans and a sharp button-down, my jaw unshaven, her eyes were already on me from her perch on a metal barstool. She nibbled on the corner of her lips, appraising.
My gaze traveled up and down her body too. Up those long legs to the tight pencil skirt, down to those sinfully sexy heels, and up again to the tight short-sleeve top that clung to her curves.
All business. All sexy execut
ive I wanted to put on her knees.
Dance music pulsed through the club, and her eyes stayed on me as I walked to her.
When I reached her, I offered a hand and said, like a professional, “Glad you could meet me tonight to finalize this deal, Ms. Williams.”
“And you as well. Thank you for fitting me in, Mr. Hamilton.” She sat up properly, a little demure.
I took the stool next to her, ordered a scotch, and turned to look out at the lounge. It was teeming with groups of friends and couples, men and women already tangled together.
I returned my focus to her. “I’d been hoping we’d do this deal for some time now.”
“I’ve been eager as well.” She lifted her drink and took a sip, leaving an imprint of pink gloss on her glass. I grabbed her glass and knocked some back too, watching her eyes the whole time. The message was clear as I drank her vodka tonic—I wanted her taste on my lips.
“But this is an interesting choice for a venue to ink a deal,” I said, glancing around, then picking a couple cuddled up on a chaise longue. The woman had long hair, and the man sported a beard. “It’s not your typical business place.”
She smiled like she had a secret. “I think the deals people are doing here are of a different variety.” She nodded at the nearby couple. “Like them.” Her breath came in a quick rush. “I bet they’ll be going home tonight. Finishing the final terms in a hotel room.”
Holy hell. She wasted no time. She went for it, and I loved how she jumped into the deep end. I took a swallow of my scotch, savoring the burn. “I bet she’ll take his hand and lead him right over to the bureau.”
I met Kate’s eyes, and those hazel irises glittered with lust.
A new look for her. One I’d only seen last night. One I wanted to see all night long.
She let out a breath. “Do you think he likes to fuck her in front of the bureau? Standing up? Bent over? Ready?” As the words came out of her mouth, her shoulders relaxed and she laughed.
But it wasn’t as if the conversation amused her.
It was more like . . . relief.
Like she’d just said something she’d wanted to give voice to for a long, long time.
I inched closer, my shoulder against hers, our bodies aligned. I eyed the couple in question, the one we were using for foreplay. They had no idea I was using them to turn on this woman next to me. That was what made tonight so hot. “I bet she likes it when he fucks her against the table too. Bet she likes it when he bends her over the couch. Slides a hand up her back, grabs all that hair, and yanks hard.”
She gasped. “She loves that. She might even go to the room first. Surprise him.”
My skin heated up as she got into it. “Bet she wears nothing but a shirt. Takes off her panties. Bends over the couch, her ass in the air, waiting for her man.” The image of that—not of the long-haired woman and the bearded man, but of Kate waiting just like that—sent lust barreling through my blood.
“She does that for him.” Kate’s lips parted, her eyes hooded as she gazed hungrily at the couple. “She waits for him like that. So he can feel how wet she is when he arrives. How much she wants him.”
I slid a hand around her waist. I was dying to ask how wet she was. But I knew better. Games were games. Roles were roles. And in this game, we weren’t talking about ourselves.
She trembled against my hand. “She wants him to know,” Kate whispered. Then she lifted her glass, taking a drink. “She wants him to know how turned on she is. She’s squirming in her lace, and all she wants is to show him.”
She turned her gaze toward me slowly, taking her time. Her cheeks were flushed.
Kate Williams had put all her cards on the table. Every last naughty one.
No bets, no bluffing—just desire.
I understood her wishes.
I understood how to fulfill them.
I tossed some bills on the bar. “I’ve got a room upstairs, Ms. Williams. Why don’t we seal the deal in ten minutes?”
* * *
I booked a room so goddamn fast.
Handed her a key card. Kept one for myself.
Watched her go into the elevator.
Waited till she sent me a text.
She sent two images, and they made my pulse spike. This woman was masterful, and I strode down the hall, then waited for her signal.
It came in words and pictures.
A shot of her white panties on the floor, followed by her instructions.
Kate: Come find me.
A few minutes later, I used my key card to enter the room at The Extravagant, opening the door. The lights were low. One light flickered in the corner, and something that sounded like D’Angelo played from a speaker.
This woman had set the scene.
And she was one hell of a set designer.
The mood was sheer filthy perfection.
Then it was even better.
Because there she was.
Bent over the couch, blouse on top, nothing on the bottom.
And from head to toe, she looked so damn aroused.
11
Kate
The mind was a powerful organ.
Mine was overactive and had been all night. All month. All year.
I’d imagined this.
This was my go-to: the talking, the setup, the scenario. But I’d never set it in motion before. Given my choice to lay off men over the last several months, my body was primed.
My mind had provided the mental foreplay.
As I slid the key against the door, I already imagined the moment when he’d walk into the room.
How I wanted it to feel to him.
Peering around, I took in the space and decided to set the scene.
An ample living room was spread out before me, with a sunken area holding a large couch strewn with pillows. After putting my purse on the table by the bar, I headed into the living room, adjusting switches as I went.
Now the lights were low, seductive.
The plush carpet was inviting.
Not that a man would care one lick about the carpet. But I did. I was all about the mood.
I turned to a playlist on my phone—a low beat hummed from the device, a delicious soundtrack to seduction.
An image flickered in my mind as I pressed my hands on the back of the couch.
I pictured how Ms. Williams wanted her new business partner to find her.
Ready. Waiting. Aroused.
The latter was easy—I was more than aroused. My skin tingled with anticipation. My bones hummed. My God, I was doing this. Finally doing this.
I walked over to the bar, peered in the mirror, and pursed my lips. Grabbing my lipstick from the side of my purse, I slicked some on.
I turned around.
Unzipped my pencil skirt. Let it fall to the floor.
I shot a picture of it, sent it to Jake.
Feeling deliciously playful, like the type of woman who’d perhaps order a man to come to the room, I slid out of my panties with a sashay of my hips.
I took a snap of the lace on the floor and sent that to Jake too.
Or Mr. Hamilton.
My business associate.
Grinning, I returned to the couch and took my position.
I imagined Jake walking down the hall. That confident stride. The fire in his eyes. His tall, broad frame. I bet he was unknotting his tie as he went. My mouth watered at the thought of him tugging at his neckwear, undoing it.
“Jake,” I said out loud, letting his name roll around on my tongue, letting it play on my lips. Ever since that first spark of attraction at the diner so many months ago, I’d wanted to know how it felt to say his name in the heat of the moment. To say it unbidden.
The attraction had only grown.
It expanded in my mind. It took over my dirty thoughts.
For the longest time, I hadn’t known what to do with those feelings. Hadn’t known how to fit them into my life, inside the walls that hemmed me in. So, I’d denied them. He’d fli
rted, and I’d darted and dodged.
But now I was giving in, fitting him into what I needed.
And as I gave in, I had my first answer to one of my questions—how would it be to say his name in a moment of longing?
Easy, that’s how.
It was so damn easy to say his name with want.
As I waited for him, the full scope of my proposition shook me like the chorus of a rock song at a concert.
I craved this man.
I craved him from deep within my body and my mind.
For long, heavy seconds, the strength of those cravings scared me.
I had no room for longing, no space for anything more than knowledge.
Just stay in the moment.
Remember the mission.
Embrace it for what it is.
There. I was as ready as I’d ever be.
The Decadent Gift: An After Dark Novel Page 6