Inside, light sparkled on gold filigree and jade. “I thought it was the same color as your eyes just before the storm hit yesterday.”
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A wave of warmth rushed through her body. He’d actually thought about what to get her. Matched it to her eyes, for God’s sake. “It’s beautiful.” Antique, an oblong jade stone set in intricate curlicues of gold. It was a gift, not payment. Something he’d give a girlfriend, not a courtesan. Cash would have been so much easier. Or even a trip to a mall jewelry store. But this had taken time, thought, energy. It was part of the fantasy. He pulled it free, and she fit it to her middle finger.
She held her hand against her sleeve for him to see. “It almost matches my dress.” Amazingly, it picked up the midnight blue.
“It’s like your eyes, changeable depending on the mood.” He smiled. God. He’d actually looked into her eyes yesterday. He’d found her perfect music on a fluke, her favorite pianist. Now a ring that matched her eyes. Marianna could get used to this.
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10
MARIANNA CLOSED HER EYES, SWAYING WITH THE NOTES AS IF THEY
came from inside her. Chase was awed, entranced. She made him feel the music rather than merely hear it. The piano, with orchestral accompaniment, hit a crescendo at the end of the adagio, and she smiled as if she were in heaven, her lashes against her cheeks, a tear of delight at the corner of her eye. He’d always enjoyed a night out at the symphony, but she made it an experience. Marianna was the beauty in the music. The piano faded away, only the echo of its strings in the quiet symphony hall. No one spoke, no one even breathed. The pianist flexed his fingers, readied himself, his hands hovering over the keys as he raised his eyes to the maestro. Violin bows rose, poised, on the brink. Marianna took his hand into her lap, squeezed, and made his heart beat faster with her smile. Then the concerto entered the allegro, with a livelier tempo that brought a light laugh to her lips. It was as if the music told a story she could hear in her head. Shards of light danced in the ring on her finger. He’d found it in a shop in Los Gatos this morning, a jeweler he used to go to regularly years ago. He’d had to have it for her.
She bounced and rocked in her seat, raised her hands and conducted, even hummed under her breath, all as if she were aware of nothing but the music. Marianna was the performance in his box. He knew she would bring all of that and more to her love-making. He couldn’t have said how long the piece was, but he could have wished for it to go forever. Yet it ended, and the audience rose en masse for a standing ovation.
“That was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Marianna whispered, traces of mist in her eyes.
“Yes.” A complete understatement. She’d never grasp how magnificent watching her had been.
The stage emptied, the intermission lights went up, and the crowd in the auditorium below exited for drinks, appetizers, and conversation. Chase barely made out the knock at the box’s door. Ah, the next phase of the evening’s entertainment.
“What?” she asked, one brow raised, a smile growing. 67
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He shook a finger. “Don’t turn around.”
She wandered down to the rail as he let in the waiter. You could get anything you wanted, as long as you were willing to pay. Chase had made arrangements he hoped would dazzle her.
He considered that he might be trying too hard, then decided he didn’t give a damn. He wanted fun. He wanted fantasy. He wanted to forget his guilt for a little while. It would be there to rain down on his head come tomorrow. For now, he wanted to create an experience neither of them would forget. He tipped the waiter, sent him on his way, and opened the bottle himself. Having poured a glass, Chase whisked up a silver tray of treats and headed down the steps.
Gazing out over the party atmosphere of the symphony hall’s intermission, Marianna didn’t hear Chase, she scented him. Subtle aftershave, sexy male aroma. She let herself be mesmerized by the anticipation of his next surprise and turned from the sights below. The chandelier lighting glittered in the dark strands of his hair. The drink he handed her was little more than a shot glass filled with a deep amber liqueur.
“Port,” he said when she lifted it to sniff the bouquet.
“Aren’t you having any?” She noted he hadn’t poured one for himself.
“This is for you. In Victorian times”—he ran a finger down her arm, a sensation she felt in every nerve ending of her body—“it was believed that port overly stimulated women, so they were forbidden to drink it.”
“Stimulated how?” She played along, her excitement rising before she even tasted.
He cocked one brow. “Orgasmically stimulated.”
“Mmm,” she murmured. God, he looked deliciously devilish. He’d made the night so perfect. The symphony, the music, now this seductive tease. “Does it work?”
“I don’t know.” He smiled, just a crook of his mouth. “I’m trying it out on you.”
She sipped, surprised at the fruitiness of it. She’d always thought port was strong and heady like cognac, but this was sweet and smooth. She tipped her head one way, then the other. “I’m not feeling it yet.” Liar. She was damp from thinking about all the things he might have planned for her.
“Ah, then you must have the dark chocolate to go with it.” He offered a silver 68
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salver on which the confection was broken into chunks.
“I love the dark stuff. Better than milk chocolate.” She took a small piece.
“Let a tiny bite melt on your tongue, then sip the port.”
She followed his instructions as he focused on her lips. She savored the sweet bite as it melted.
“Now the port,” he murmured, caressing her with his gaze as if it were a physical touch.
With the port, the chocolate turned smoky, rich, delicious, and the alcohol seemed to sweep through her body, heating her inside and out. His expression was enough to melt the candy all by itself.
“That’s to die for,” she whispered. “What does it do to men?”
He raised his gaze to capture hers. “Port itself doesn’t do a thing, but the act of watching a woman imbibe drives him to bury his cock inside her hard, fast, and deep.”
She lost her breath. She lost her mind. He held out another tidbit of chocolate on the end of his finger. She bent to take it in her mouth, then sucked his finger. Backing off, she followed the morsel with the port. Oh yeah, it overstimulated women. No wonder those Victorian men had forbidden it, but God, what they, both sexes, had missed. If she’d been wearing panties—she’d removed them in the ladies’ room at the restaurant because it felt so sexy—they’d have been drenched. As it was, she was so creamy she could have taken him without a moment of foreplay.
Then again, this was foreplay.
Shifting to stand behind her, he bracketed her with his arms as they watched the musicians begin filtering back onto the stage. “Is it working?”
She did nothing more than twitch her hips, rubbing his hard cock against her backside. “Maybe I need more.”
The chocolate appeared in front of her, this time on his palm. She licked him clean, then sipped the liqueur and moaned for him, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. Brushing her hair aside, he kissed the side of her neck. He stroked with his tongue, sucked, then nipped her lightly. An orgasm surged like fireworks blooming in a night sky. “Good Lord, port does work.”
“So glad to hear it.” His voice rumbled at her ear, adding to the moisture building inside her.
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Across the auditorium, down in the seats, a man glanced up, did a double take. Focusing on him, she reached behind to wind an arm around Chase’s neck.
“People are watching. Perhaps you should drag me back out of sight so they can wonder what we’re doing.”
He chuckled, his breath puffing against her hair.
“Dirty girl.”
“Or maybe I should drag you.” She pivoted in his arms, then trailed her fingers down his arm and grabbed his hand. “Bring the chocolate,” she whispered, “I’ll bring the glass.” It would be empty before they were done. “How much longer before intermission ends?” She glanced back over her shoulder as she led him up the steps.
“Do you care?”
She smiled. That said it all. “I can hear the music from up there.”
“But you can’t see Ashkenazy.”
“He can’t see me either.” She blew him a little kiss, then twirled lightly on her heel as they reached the small landing. She loved teasing him, playing with him.
“Now, what was that about overstimulation?”
The silver tray clattered on the table as he laid it down, then he tunneled his fingers beneath her hair and pulled her hard against his chest. He gave her lips a seductive swipe with his tongue. “You taste good. Port, chocolate, and you.”
Her heart beat faster. She needed more. She dipped her tongue in the port, then she took him with an amazing mingling of flavors. His arm across her back crushed her to him, and the glass almost slipped from her fingers. She pulled back. “Wait, wait, I have to put the port down.” Or she’d spill it all over.
“I’ll take it.” He slugged back the last swallow, then set it on the table, beside the remains of the chocolate and champagne.
Beyond his shoulder, the main auditorium floor was hidden behind the railing, but she could see into the other boxes.
When he straightened, Chase shifted, following her gaze. “Shall we take our seats?”
Marianna didn’t even have to think. “Hell, no.” She grabbed his tux lapels to pull him behind the curtain.
“You’re an animal,” he murmured with a teasing lilt.
“Kiss me, Romeo.”
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He took her with little nips and licks, finally sweeping into her mouth for a deeper, longer, sweeter kiss. She wound her arms around his neck, reveling in the imprint of his body along hers. His chin was smooth, freshly shaved, the spice of his aftershave filling her head. He slapped one hand to the wall next to her ear, imprisoned her butt in his grip, and pressed his hard cock against her. God, she wanted to lift her skirt for him right then. He was sex and sweetness and Prince Charming all wrapped into one. She was the courtesan, duty-bound to please her client, yet he’d made the night all about her.
Pushing at him, she tried to catch her breath. She needed to give him something in return, not for the ring, but for how well he treated her. Like a lady. “Let me taste you.”
He was so still. A bell sounded, the five-minute warning for the end of intermission, yet not a muscle flexed or an expression flickered on his face. Then, slowly, he let out a breath and brought her hand to the zip of his tuxedo pants.
The hall filled with the bustle of returning patrons, strings being prepared, yet above it all lay the sound of his zipper. He wrapped her hand around his freed cock. “Please suck me.”
The momentousness of the request flared in his eyes. He hadn’t done this since his wife died. He’d never said as much, but she knew the truth of it. He’d chosen Marianna to give him that first time. She felt humbled with the honor. And unbearably slick with her own need. She went to her knees before him, still holding him in her hand, head back, gaze locked to his. Her tongue darted out for that first taste, licking just the head, the drop of come salty-sweet. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, dragging in his scent to blend with his flavor. She glided her tongue down his shaft. A vein pulsed. He let out a sharp breath. The material of his pants caressed her cheek. Then the lights dimmed, and the music rose. She knew every note by heart, Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, and there was no song more perfect by which to take this man. She wrapped her lips around him, sucked him deeply, then slid down until his tip tickled her throat. Burying his fingers in her hair, he guided her, and she caressed him to the rise and fall of the music.
She would never hear the piece now without thinking of him, tasting him on 71
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her tongue, feeling the texture of his flesh, smelling the lush scent of his body. Marianna sank her fingers into his thighs to steady herself. Chase rocked, feeding her his cock, retreating, taking again, possessing.
HIS PULSE THROBBED IN HIS EARS, HIS BLOOD HEATED EVERY CAPILLARY. He’d forgotten how good this could be. Yet she made it better than any memory. Because he was starved for a woman’s sensual aroma. His heart had shriveled without a woman’s touch. He’d been only half-alive until she took him into the warmth of her mouth.
His hand slipped away from her hair; he braced himself flat-palmed against the wall and made love between her lips. Her tongue swirled around him, captured him, seduced him. His legs shook with the effort it took not to come. It couldn’t end yet. He needed more. A sudden crescendo of music was almost his undoing, until he opened his eyes and met hers. Blond hair spilled over her forehead, down her shoulders. Her cheeks bloomed with color, her lips like rubies, and his jade ring gleamed on the hand fisted around the base of his cock. She owned him in that moment. He needed a piece of her in return. Pulling free of her mouth, he brought her to her feet. “I want you.”
She blinked as if she couldn’t hear or understand. Cupping her face in his hands, he put his lips to hers and whispered, “Let me inside you.” He heard the catch in his voice. “Please.” He didn’t care how needy it sounded.
“Yes.”
The word puffed against his mouth and touched his heart. From his pocket, he retrieved a condom and rolled it on as she raised her dress. The brazen act made his cock impossibly hard.
Her pussy was bare. She’d been naked all night. No wonder her scent had tantalized him. It damn near drove him insane now. As if his hand didn’t even belong to him, he watched a finger snake out and bury itself in her wet center.
“I’m a very bad girl for not wearing panties.”
He felt the drumbeat of music in his ears, an insistent throb. “No, you’re very, very good.” He lost himself in her eyes, swallowing hard. “God, I so want to fuck you.”
“Then fuck me.”
He couldn’t see her irises, only her dilated pupils as he lifted her, pulling her legs to his waist. Entering her with a hard thrust, he pushed her against the wall, 72
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his cock hitting high and deep. It was so damn fucking good, he rested a moment with his forehead to hers, savoring the clench of her pussy as if he’d never had this before and could never have her again.
“Chase.” Her voice was sweeter than the music.
“I need to catch my breath.” He needed to write the moment into his gray matter never to be forgotten, the lace of her stockings beneath his fingers, the silky caress of her pussy, the decadent scent of chocolate, port, and his semen on her breath. In his right mind, he knew it was simply that he’d been without a woman’s body for so long. In his animal brain, it was all about her. She tightened her thighs, urging him deeper. “Take me, baby,” she said on nothing more than a breath.
When he moved, she was heaven. God, how he’d missed this. As he plunged again, she shivered around him. He’d never had this, an insatiable need. He didn’t want to come, because then it would be over. He didn’t want to stop touching her, because then she could leave.
His body trembled, his legs ached, yet the scent of her enthralled him and the feel of her sent him over the edge. He didn’t know whether the crescendo of music was in his head or if it had covered his shout of release. He lost his very essence inside her. When he came to his senses, they were on the carpet, wrapped in each other.
Chase thanked God that he’d finally learned how to pretend the last year had never happened.
RACHMANINOFF HAD NEVER SOUNDED SO GOOD. IT WAS LIKE HER own personal fairy tale. At midnight, Chase helped her inside the Cadillac he’d called for her, and she sped away into the night as i
f she were Cinderella. Thank God the car didn’t turn into a pumpkin.
She held out the gorgeous ring he’d bought her. The thought he put into it made her weak-kneed all over again.
The evening had been so perfect. Like a real date. All right, with a real date, she wouldn’t have dragged him into the dark and taken his cock in her mouth. Being a courtesan gave her a boldness she’d never felt before, and she was glad. She’d wanted to give that to Chase. She’d wanted that for herself. Jewel claimed it was the money that made being a courtesan so sexy. But Chase was what made it sexy for her. It couldn’t be as good with another man 73
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no matter how much money she got. Marianna wanted Chase whether he paid or not.
Oh God, she was in trouble. High-priced call girls weren’t supposed to become attached to their clients.
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11
“I HATE TO RAIN ON YOUR PARADE, MARIANNA, BUT ARE YOU SURE you want to put all your eggs in one basket?” Wow. Isabel had used two clichés in one sentence.
Marianna stirred cream into her coffee. It was a not-so-busy Monday afternoon, and she’d dashed over to the coffee bar across the street from the brokerage to give herself the opportunity to return Isabel’s call.
“I know we’ve had several dates,” she said, which would sound innocuous to anyone listening in, “but I think this is working well.”
“As a courtesan, that’s not good, Marianna. It’s best if you establish a clientele, a list.”
Marianna didn’t want a list. She didn’t want Brock Ransom. She wanted Chase. In the week and a half since the symphony, they’d had two more fabulous dates. Their third time together, he wowed her with an elegant French restaurant up in the Santa Cruz Mountains. On the way home, they’d had sex in the back of a stretch limousine. He’d given her a sapphire-and-diamond bracelet, which he said he’d purchased because it was the only piece he’d seen that was fine enough to fit her delicately boned wrist. Her heart beat faster simply remembering the look on his face as he’d fastened it. He’d taken her dancing on the fourth date. He was surprisingly good, far more skilled than she was, but they’d had so much fun despite her two left feet. He made love to her hidden in a little alcove off a back hall of the dance club and rewarded her with a sapphireand-diamond necklace that matched the bracelet. Exciting, sexy, tantalizing, he swept her away. It wasn’t the jewelry. It wasn’t all the sex and fun. They actually talked. She felt like she knew his daughter with all the things he’d said about her. He’d told her about his work, that he was a CEO for a big company up in the city. They discussed their political and social views. The only thing he didn’t talk about was his wife. Marianna understood. But she was starting to need a little more. Like a bed and a whole night with him.
Yours for the Night Page 8