The
SEDUCTION FACTOR
Book 1—Casual Encounter
Scarlett Avery
Copyright © 2015 by Scarlett Avery
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Scarlett Avery / Absolutely Naughty Publishing
Edited by RJ Locksley
Proofread by Chrissy Becker
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. This book is for sale to adults over 18.
The Seduction Factor / Scarlett Avery.
ISBN 978-0-9938604-8-5
Foreword
I can't thank you enough for purchasing this sizzling read.
I’m absolutely passionate about what I do. Once I start writing, I just can't stop.
It's taking me a whole lifetime to get to the point where I’m able to live out my dream every single day.
The captivating stories and the enigmatic characters live with me throughout the writing process. I think you'll quickly notice how much care and attention I put into each one of my romance novels.
Another thing you’ll discover about me is how much I love my readers!
To thank you for buying this romance novel, I’d love for you to lose yourself in even more sultriness, sexiness and seduction!
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***
The Seduction Factor Series
Book 1—Casual Encounter
Book 2—The Billionaire's Desire
Book 3—Broken
Book 4—Love Tangle
Book 5—Sinful Desires
Book 6—Always & Forever
***
BOOK 1—CASUAL ENCOUNTER
Chapter One
I know I shouldn’t be this distracted, but I can’t help but glance at the clock on Dylan’s night table. Shit. I can’t believe it’s already eleven-thirty. I have to get home to pack for my trip or else I’ll never get a decent night’s sleep. I should never have agreed to see Dylan the night before my departure, but this week has been so insane, Saturday is the only time I have to see him before skipping town for an important business trip.
Focus. The man is fucking you after all.
“Oh, God, Ciara, your pussy is so wet. I love fucking you.”
“Yes, Dylan, you’re so hot,” I scream out as I steady myself against the massive window of Dylan’s New York City luxury condo apartment.
New York is so beautiful at night and the view at this height is breathtaking. One of the rare perks of seeing Dylan is being able to admire the Big Apple from atop. I love my renovated brownstone, but let’s face it, the view is nothing to talk about since I peer into my neighbors’ homes and although I do have a pretty spectacular view from my office it’s nothing quite this majestic.
“Your tits are incredible. Do you know how much I love holding them in my hands?”
“Ah! Squeeze my nipples again. Make it hurt.”
“You like it when I squeeze them? You like it rough, don’t you? You’re just a dirty girl.”
Shit. I’m getting dry. I hope he comes soon.
“Your ass is so round and so perfect.”
“What a turn-on when you fuck me in front of your big window. I hope the neighbors see us.”
“I hope they see how lucky I am and how my girlfriend has the sexiest body in Manhattan.”
Girlfriend?
“Oh, Jesus, I’m going to come. I’m going to leave my creamy mark all over your ass. Oh, Christ, Ciara.” He gushes his warm milk all over my butt before rubbing it with both hands.
Thank God he came. “Was it good?”
“It’s always amazing with you. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had. You’re so hot and so kinky. Your turn now. I want to make you come with my tongue. Get on the bed and lie down, baby. You know how much I love eating your pussy.”
For the love of God, I have to muster up the courage to tell him he hasn’t got a clue how to eat pussy. I can’t keep going on like this.
Dylan Thomas Prescott, my so-called boyfriend of four months, is down on his knees and he’s trying his best to make me come with his mouth. As usual, he slobbers and pokes his tongue all over the place without ever being successful. Honestly, even if I painted a big fat x in red, he’d still manage to miss my clit.
“Oh, yes, Dylan,” I pant.
I’m faking it or else we’ll be here all night. The only way for him to succeed at making me come with his mouth is when I clamp both hands over his head and force him to apply enough pressure with his lips.
“Oh, I’m about to come.”
“Oh, baby, you taste so sweet. I love licking your red cherry.”
Red cherry?
I must put an end to this and put him out of his misery because I’m simply not in the mood to guide him tonight.
“Aah,” I scream out, lifting my hips from the bed as if he’s actually made me come.
As a woman, you sometimes need to resort to faking it when the guy’s clueless or else he’ll eat you raw.
“I’m so happy I made you come again,” he says, as he searches my eyes for approval. “Are you going to be able to stay the night? I really want to cuddle.”
Oh, no, here we go again. “Dylan, I can’t. I need to go home and pack. You do remember I’m leaving tomorrow for the next ten days on a very important business trip and I’m not ready.”
“I won’t see you for such a long time. You can sleep over and we can get up early and I’ll drive you home.”
“Tempting, but I can’t afford to screw this up and I’m so not ready for this trip yet. I’ll need the next few hours to organize myself and I doubt I’ll be in bed before three am.”
“I keep reminding you I’ve made room in my closet for you. You could’ve brought your clothing here and spent the night cuddled in my arms.”
Yeah. I don’t think so. “Dylan, that’s so thoughtful of you, but you know me, I don’t travel light and this week has been too heavy for me to have time to figure out what I’ll need to take with me on my trip.”
“Oh. I see,” he says, sulking like a six-year-old who was denied a second serving of Dairy Queen ice cream birthday cake.
“I’m only gone for a little over a week and we can talk every day and text. You won’t even have time to miss me.” I sound so convincing, I almost believe my own lie.
“Don’t say that. You know I’ll miss you, Ciara.”
I don’t think he’d look nearly as sad as he does now were it not for the fact we’re having this conversation while I’m sitting on his king-size bed and he’s still on his knees on the floor in front of me.
“We’ve been together for six months and…”
“Four. We’ve been seeing each other for four months.”
“Fine, four months, and you’ve always found an excuse not to stay over. Most women would die if their boyfriend ask them to stay the night, but not you.”
“Most women? Well, in case you hadn’t realized it yet, I’m nothing like most women,” I spit out as I roll on my back, get up, get dressed and get out.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“I’m going home to pack.”
“But you can’t leave for ten days while we’re having a fight and you’re mad at me.”
“We’re not having a fight a
nd I’m not mad at you. You’re complaining and I choose not to stick around.”
“Please don’t do this. Don’t walk out on me. Let’s talk this out.”
“Dylan, it’s very late, I have five hundred things to do before I fly out tomorrow afternoon and I’m way too tired for this conversation. If you’re not happy with our relationship, maybe we should take a break.”
“What are you saying?”
“Maybe we should take my time away from New York as a cool-off period for both of us. You know, to give us time to reflect and figure out if we’re a good match.” God knows I need the break.
“Ciara, I know you’re a good match for me,” he says with his pleading dark brown eyes.
“Listen, we might both need some space,” I say, softening my tone.
“I don’t need space. I want to be with you. I love you.”
Dylan is gorgeous at six four. His muscular body is still naked and his thick head of hair still messy from his attempts to make me come. He’s a classic textbook Mr. Right—he has an incredible profession, he owns a fabulous condo in Central Park West, he’s well off, he’s handsome, he’s caring and he desperately wants to please me. You’d think with his hard body, those sultry dark-brown eyes and his long cock, I’d want to make more of an effort to salvage what we have, but nah.
“You’re guilt-tripping me, Dylan.”
“I’m not. I love you,” he shouts.
Even though he’s been blessed with a beautiful seven-inch cock, he still doesn’t know how to use his dick. In the last four months, as much as he’s tried, Dylan has never been able to make me come. I’ve been faking it in an attempt to grow this so-called relationship, all because I wanted to prove my big sister wrong.
“You’re a good guy, Dylan. Let’s take the next week to cool off and when I come back we’ll reconnect and move forward.”
I’m lying through my teeth, but honestly, what kind of woman breaks things off with a guy while he’s still naked?
* * *
The minute I get home, I kick off my four-inch black Pigalle spiked Christian Louboutin heels, remove my makeup, tie up my hair on the top of my head, jump into my favorite robe and call my sister.
I so need to vent.
My older sister Sofia has always been the voice of reason in my life. We’re so different in every possible way, but she always finds the perfect words to calm me down when I’m worked up over a guy.
Recently, Sofia’s life has taken a page out of Robert Ludlum’s spy mystery novels. She met Bryce Van Der Linden, one of the most eligible bachelors in America, while working as an escort. She hit rock bottom so hard she took on a job as a high-priced call girl without ever telling me. Her first client was the sexy billionaire and the rest is history. Now her new husband has tracked down her crooked Russian ex-business partner to restore her reputation and recover the millions that asshole stole from her.
“Hey, sis,” I say.
“Ciara, how are you? Are you ready for your important trip?”
“Nah, I just got home. I was at Dylan’s.”
“Oh, how is he? Are things getting better between the two of you?”
“I don’t think he’s doing so well.”
During the next fifteen minutes, I share the play-by-play of my conversation with Dylan.
“You broke it off with him and left him standing naked in his own home right after you had sex together?”
“I didn’t break it off, I simply suggested we take some time off.”
“I thought Dylan was good to you.”
“Sofia, he’s terrible in bed. He can’t even make me come.”
“There are other things in a relationship than orgasms.”
She can’t be serious. “Like what? Are you telling me you would have married Bryce had he not been a phenomenal lover, as you’ve reminded me countless times?”
“Well…”
“Well what, Sofia? We no longer have to settle as women. We are entitled to be with an incredible guy who’s also mind-blowing in bed. I don’t want to have to fake it. It’s exhausting.”
“But he’s such a great catch with a kind heart and he’s so hot. Maybe in time, you can teach him how you like to be pleasured.”
She’s not seriously suggesting I give Dylan lessons on the female anatomy. “He’s a good guy, but I’m not interested in being his teacher. The man is thirty-nine, for crying out loud, he should have figured it out by now!” I nearly scream.
“Don’t yell, Ciara. I can hear you perfectly well.”
“I’m not yelling. I’m frustrated. It’s all your fault, you know.” Why did I even let her talk me into giving Dylan a chance?
“My fault? How is it my fault you’re not able to stay in a relationship for longer than a few months and you view the idea of spending the night with a guy worse than catching a viral disease?”
“I don’t want to spend the night with them because men make you messy. You know my views about long-term relationships. It’s so much more enjoyable to keep things simple and casual.”
“Ciara Isabella Herrera, are you saying the casual affair you started with Count Ludvig Wilmer Theodor Jönsson on the day of my wedding wasn’t a royal mess? You were all over the British tabloids for nearly two months. It was a travesty!”
Ouch. No need to remind me. “First, no need to call me by my full name like you’re my mother. Second, in my defense, this all happened many months ago.”
“I’ve only been married to Bryce for six months, so it hasn’t been that long. And the only reason you gave Dylan a chance was because you thought you could hide from your royal scandal.”
“I thought there was a chance Ludvig and I might have been able to build something longer-term, but his cow of a sister was too happy to remind me I was born on the wrong side of the royal fence and I was an American too. Just because I wasn’t born with a tiara on my head doesn’t mean I’m uneducated. I’ve seen more of the world than that stupid bitch of a sister, but it surely didn’t stop her looking down on me.”
I don’t have to tell her Ludvig was a selfish lover with a small cock and a drinking problem. She already has enough ammunition against me in this conversation.
“Pardon me? Are you suggesting you were going to leave your independent life here in New York and move to Sweden to be with the Count? You were going to curtsy and become the submissive girlfriend? You knew from the moment Bryce and I caught you on your knees in front of Ludvig’s royal cock he was unattainable and there would be no time for you to fall in love with him. Heck, you wouldn’t even have time to like the guy.”
She doesn’t have to chew me up like this. “I called you for support, not for you to barrage me with all my sins, Sofia. Like you’re perfect.”
“I’m your sister and I love you so much, but you’ve never allowed yourself to fall in love since Luke.”
“You don’t have to bring him up again,” I say with a lump in my throat.
Even after all these years, Luke Elliot Rutherford’s name is still synonymous with pain and sorrow.
“Listen, I’ve been on this phone for way too long. I need to pack for this trip to a foreign country and I need to get to bed at a decent hour.”
“Foreign country? Give me a break. You’re going to Canada, not Saudi Arabia.”
“Still, it’s outside of the U.S. and I want to make a great impression. My client is expanding worldwide and I want to make sure they keep using my services.”
“You’re the best at what you do. You have a brilliant eye for design and you’ll knock them dead with your beauty and your charm. Don’t avoid the real subject here. We both know you’ve shut down your heart for the past seven years. You jump from one guy to another to avoid getting hurt and the millisecond you see an opportunity to bow out, you do. The worst part is the poor guy you’re dating at the time doesn’t have a chance because you’ll use any excuse in the book to kick him to the curb.”
“I thought you could for once support me, but I se
e it was wishful thinking on my part,” I say with clenched teeth.
“Ciara, I can hear it in your voice, you’re upset at me. I wish you’d open your heart again and give a man a chance. That’s all.”
“Thanks for the relationship pep talk, big sister. I have to go now,” I say as I cut the communication.
Just because she married Mr. Amazing and Utterly Fuckable doesn’t mean we’re all as lucky. How dare she bring up the subject of Luke? That part of my life is closed forever. I’ll be damned if I allow a man to crush me like Luke did.
I’m sure I can snatch a hot Canadian guy who can make me forget all about Dylan… and Luke.
BOOK 1—CASUAL ENCOUNTER
Chapter Two
Toronto is different than I expected. It’s reminiscent of New York, but not nearly as congested. You don’t have to fight your way through crowds of people when you walk down the streets and contrary to the Big Apple, Toronto sewers don’t let out steam on hot summer days.
It’s interesting to find so many of our American eateries in another country. I’m always amazed by the power of food colonization.
Canadians are truly the loveliest and most polite people I’ve ever met and considering the size of this city, it feels surprisingly safe.
My first week is a whirlwind of long meetings, conference calls at all hours, intensive briefings and strategy sessions. One of our biggest clients has hired my firm to design the lighting for their first Canadian luxury boutique hotel under the banner The Bishop. They already own boutique hotels in all of the major U.S. cities and they’re testing the Canadian market before expanding worldwide. This contract could mean a lucrative future for my design firm and I felt it was crucial I fly in my top designers and project managers for this week. I’ve spared no expense to ensure we dazzle the client and secure every single new hotel they open.
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