SOLO

by Bladon, Deborah

  A sly smirk rakes over his mouth. "I know how much your father is worth, Libby. You can afford better."

  I push my head back, stretching my neck, trying to rid myself of the tension I feel taking over my shoulders. It's a conversation that was inevitable. I know that people like Alec find it necessary to run background checks on those they spend time with. My father's done the same thing. "My father can afford better. I can't."

  "You've lost me. What are you trying to say?"

  I try not to smile. It's a foreign concept to him because he's rich. He's grown up with money, just as I did. The difference is that his father gave him the reins of the family business and set him on his own course. "My father doesn't pay my way."

  I can see the surprise in his expression although he's trying to mask it by taking another healthy swallow from his glass. "You're surviving in this city on your wage from the musical?"

  Irony is rarely a welcome guest. He's questioning how I'm living on the paltry wage he's giving me. "No. That's why I work at the jewelry store. I'm paid in commissions there."

  "You have a degree, Libby."

  They are a repeat of the words my father said before I left. I'd worked hard for my degree. I finished early and was hungry for the chance to jump into a position within my father's company. "I'm proud of it," I offer.

  "Do you plan on using it one day? Are you going to take over your father's business?"

  I can't say I'm surprised by the question. It's Alec's life path. I know his history. I know that he's built his father's empire up to what it is today. It's a conglomerate that many in the business world envy. Their vast array of holdings includes everything from Fortune 500 companies to burgeoning start-ups. Alec Hughes is a genius when it comes to business. It's no wonder he'd expect me to be using my degree to chase the same dream he is.

  "Am I asking too many questions?" His hand lightly taps my shoulder. "Is this something you'd rather not talk about?"

  Avoidance can be a good thing, but in this case it's only prolonging the unavoidable. I sense that if I don't tell Alec how I ended up as a glorified extra in his musical that he'll send someone out to hunt down the information. He may as well hear it from me. "We can talk about it."

  "Over dinner." He gestures towards a dining table. "You can explain everything to me."

  Chapter 24

  Alec

  I'll never understand men like Jensen Duncan. They have a brilliant, bright, eager daughter and they pass her over for a lazy son who has absolutely no ambition. I can't complain about it too much. Her father's reluctance to give her a position of power brought Libby to New York City. Now, she's sitting in my condo eating dinner. I should thank her father for that.

  "Have you lived here long?" She places the fork down on the edge of the plate before she pulls the linen napkin across her lips.

  I need to answer that. This is where the lies start. "A few years."

  "It's a nice area of the city." She picks up the wine glass, studies it and then sets it back down without bringing it to her mouth.

  "It is," I offer back. Christ, why is one little lie tearing me up inside? "Do you like where you live?"

  "You don't like where I live." Her eyes brighten. "I can tell when you're there."

  "It's not that I don't like the place." I push my plate aside. "I don't like that fucking couch you always tell me to sit on."

  "What's wrong with it?" she asks sweetly.

  It's the actress part of her again. It has to be. That wide grin on her face isn't hiding a thing.

  "It's fucking deadly, Libby. The springs in that thing are determined to take off my left nut." I reach down and graze my hand across my crotch. "Next time I’m standing."

  "You're exaggerating." She runs her hand lightly across her cheek. "It's not that bad."

  I want to tell her that I'll give her a raise so she can move to a different place. Hell, I want to set her up in a new place tonight. I can't stand the thought of her going back there. It's not where she belongs. She's way too good for it. She's way too good for me.

  "I'm glad I agreed to have dinner with you."

  I hate when she does that. I hate when she's sweet and so fucking genuine. I don't want her to be polite. I don't need her to make me feel things. I just want her to use me, the way women have been using me for years.

  "Come with me Libby." I stand and reach out my hand to her in one easy movement. "There's something I want to show you."

  ***

  "This is an actual Tony award, Alec."

  I look down into her face. She's glowing. She's cradling the statue in her hands, her eyes running over it, taking in every nuance and circular curve. "It is an actual Tony."

  She sighs softly as she hands it back to me. "Where did you get it?"

  I pull my brow into a mock scowl. "I've backed a few plays in the past few years, Libby."

  "Not one of them ever received a nomination."

  I laugh before placing it back down on the desk in my home office. "How do you know that?"

  She giggles causing the hair that is resting on her shoulders to fall forward. There's something wildly innocent about her but at the same time she's one of the most provocative women I've ever been around. She's the perfect balance of softness and seductive all wrapped up in a tight body and flawless face.

  I push her hair back into place. "The award was a gift." I don’t elaborate. I should. I should tell her that I bought it at an auction to give to someone.

  "That's a really nice gift." She runs her hand along the base. "The person who gave it to you must have cared about you a lot."

  It's a question wrapped up in a statement. It's not one I can answer though. I need to leave her assumption as it. "It's been a good source of inspiration. I hope Selfish Fate gets a few nominations this year."

  "I do too."

  "You look so happy when you're rehearsing." I take a step closer to her. "You're in your element when you're singing and dancing."

  She bows her head slightly as the faint light in the room catches her earrings. "I feel best when I'm performing. I feel like me."

  "I can tell," I whisper the words softly into the stillness of the room.

  I want to touch her. Christ, I seriously want to touch her. It's taken all the self-control I have not to lunge at her and pull her into the bedroom. I can't push her though. She's not like the others. I want her to want me.

  She turns so she's facing me directly now. Her eyes lock with mine. "I don't want anyone from work to know that I came here."

  I'm playing with fire. I'm so fucking deep right now that I can't think straight. I need to take her home. I need to walk as far away from her as I can and let her live her life. I need to tell her to chase that goddamn neighbor of hers she said she was hot for. I need this to stop. I can't let this stop. "No one will know you were here."

  "You promise?" she asks, her eyes close slightly. "No one will know about us?"

  "I don't advertise what I do in my private life." My hand sweeps over her chin. "If you want to keep this quiet, I'm make that happen."

  Her beautiful brown eyes lock with mine. "Make it happen."

  I take the words literally. I pull her supple body into mine, sweep my lips over hers and give in to my unending need for Libby Duncan.

  Chapter 25

  Libby

  "Christ, Libby, please." His hands tangle wildly in my hair, the pressure soft enough to show the tenderness I need, yet aggressive enough to express that even when he's in the most vulnerable of positions, he's still the one in control.

  My lips splay over the wide head. I suck on it gently, knowing he needs time to adjust to the pressure of my mouth. He's large, he's thick, and he's beautiful. I'd imagined his cock since I saw him in the elevator. I'd anticipated its taste since he pushed himself against me and its outline on my stomach held the promise of a depth of pleasure I'd never known before.

  After he told me he'd keep things quiet, I'd fallen to my knees. The act itself was
out of sheer need. I want to taste him. I need to please him. I have to give him what he gave to me.

  "Lick it." His voice is hoarse and rich.

  I acquiesce, wanting him to direct me to the rush he's seeking. I look up. His head is thrown back. One of his hands moves behind him to the window sill, gripping the wooden frame. His legs part slightly. He's still fully dressed. I'd fumbled briefly with his fly, before he'd taken over, pulling it open, pushing his boxer briefs down and releasing his swollen cock for me.

  I run my tongue along the length of it, marveling in the hardness of the dense root. I moan as it jumps slightly under my touch. It's mine right now. This is the moment I've longed for.

  "Fuck, you have a sweet mouth."

  His words are shameless. They're heady and hot and spur me on. I twist my tongue around him, lashing the head again and again with soft gentle strokes. I suck harder now, wanting him to find a rhythm.

  "Ah, fuck, Libby, fuck." His hips move, faster and harder with each thrust. His hands leap back into my hair, cupping my head, using it for leverage as he fucks my mouth with long, even strokes.

  I grip his legs. My hands hold tight to his strong, muscular thighs as he takes everything I'm giving to him.

  "This is so good. It's too good." He pumps harder.

  I suck him with no inhibition, taking more of him into my throat with each thrust of his hips. I moan from the sensation. I groan from the desperate need to taste everything he's going to give to me. It's so much yet it's still not enough.

  "I'm going to fucking come," he hisses into the darkness. "Swallow it, Libby. Take it all."

  I dig my knees into the floor, open my mouth wider and take every drop he offers me.

  ***

  "Take your clothes off," he whispers the words into my lips. We're in his bedroom now, my arms around his neck. The intimate kiss we're sharing broken only by his need to have more.

  I pull at my dress, freeing it from my body. His hands take over, undoing the front clasp of my bra before his head dips down to claim my nipple in his mouth. He pulls at it, wetting it with his tongue. It hardens instantly, the ache within it a desperate yearning that is now coursing hot through every part of me.

  My hands drop to my panties. I dip my hand inside. I have to come. The taste of his desire still lingers on my tongue. He offered so much. I'd struggled to take it all. His eyes had widened when he saw it falling from around his cock, seeping out of my lips. I'd lapped it all up. I was greedy. I was unashamed. I was hungry for him.

  "I need to fuck you," he says it out loud first but it's just a mirrored reflection of the ache within me. I need him to fuck me too. I need to feel his cock inside of me, giving me what I've craved for weeks.

  I lean back, hooking my hands in thin fabric of my panties. I pull them down in one movement. I want him to see me. I want him to see how his hands and lips have pulled my desire right to the surface.

  He strips quickly. His cock bobbing heavy and hard in the air as he walks to a dresser, reaching inside to pull out a condom. He rips the package open, tearing the foil in his teeth, dropping the remnants on the floor. He sheaths his cock swiftly, his eyes never leaving my face.

  I stare at his strong, powerful body as he lifts me and pushes me back onto the bed. I taste his lips as he runs the wide head of his erection over my sex. I nod my head when he asks if I can take it all and then I scream from the bite of pain as he enters me fully.

  I cry out his name as I fly over the edge into an almost instant orgasm. The brush of his thumb over my clit as he fucks me slowly is enough to push me, but the foreplay has been teasing me for weeks. Each touch of his hand against me, each word of lust that he's spoken to me, his head between my legs stealing my pleasure from me in his office. It's all been there, just at the surface, pushing me into this place I am now.

  "Alec," I call his name into his shoulder. "Oh God."

  He pumps himself into me, stalling as I savor my release. His hands cup my cheeks. His tongue traces my bottom lip as I settle back down into his rhythm.

  "You're cunt is so tight, Libby. It's so fucking tight."

  The words are blunt, direct and fall from his mouth into the flesh of my neck. The moist mist on his skin slides into mine. He pulls my legs around his waist, burying himself deeper in me.

  My name tumbles from his lips and breezes against my cheek. His cock grows inside of me stretching me more. He takes my body with long, graceful strokes pulling me towards the edge again.

  "Come again, Libby." The words are soft and break through the barrier of pleasure I'm feeling. "I need you to come."

  I fly into the throes of an intense orgasm, clinging tightly to him does little to quell my body's reaction. I flail beneath him, my hips rocking, my legs jerking, my body shuddering as he rallies back, calls out my name and fucks me hard until he finally gives me everything he has.

  Chapter 26

  Alec

  What the fuck was that? That wasn't like anything I've felt before.

  It's late. It's after midnight. I'd cradled Libby in my arms afterwards. I did it as much for myself as for her. Helping her dress, driving her home and walking her to her door had been hell. This is where I usually end it. This is when I delete a woman's number and call it a fucking day.

  I can't.

  I won't.

  Not this time.

  Fucking Libby Duncan made every woman I'd ever been with wash out of my memory. I can't remember anything but the curves of her hips and the scent of her skin. She is all that I want.

  I finish my glass of brandy as I stare out in the darkness of the city that I love. New York is my home. It's the place I belong. I grew up here, learned about life here. I've met some of the best friends I have here and more women than I can count. The foundation of my life is here even though my parents moved to Greece years ago. Everything I love is here, along with everything I loathe.

  I walk to the bedroom, turn on the overhead light and curse inwardly at the glare as it hits my eyes. I want to get in that bed. I want to smell her skin again. I want to remember what it felt like to feel myself inside of her when she came, my name a breathless whisper on her lips.

  I walk to the bed, run my hand along the imprint that her body made when she laid next to me to catch her breath. I want her back here. I need her back in this bed with her legs wrapped around me while I bury myself in her cunt, feeling her milking everything I have.

  I slam the empty glass down with a dull, vacant thud onto the dresser. I switch off the lights before rounding the corner to the main room. I pick up my suit jacket, slide it back over my shoulders, take one last look around and walk out the door.

  I slide my finger over the screen of my smartphone before stabbing the elevator call button. "Hey, Jasmine." I swallow past the lump in my throat. "I'm on my way home. I'll be there in fifteen."

  ***

  "We've made some significant changes to the book." Sharma points to the binder she placed in front of me when she arrived at my office ten minutes ago. "You should read it over."

  I should throw it in the trash. Unless the musical has an entirely new storyline this thing is still going to hit the ground crawling. I'm investing more and more money in it with the full knowledge that it's going to run through previews and then close. It's a hot mess and not in any way is that a good thing.

  "I've been to some of the rehearsals," I say trying to think of how to approach this diplomatically. "The musical is a piece of shit." Softening the blow isn't going to change that fact.

  Her eyes widen. I can't tell if she's stunned because I've offended her or if I've confirmed exactly what she's thinking. "It's a work in progress."

  "It's opening soon." I point out. "Any progress you're making needs to happen today."

  She grips the handle of the chair she's sitting in. "We've added a solo for one of the chorus girls, as you requested."

  "Shit," I mumble under my breath. I'd asked for that shortly after meeting Libby when we were volleyi
ng the idea of her getting a solo back and forth. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? She's made it crystal clear that she wants nothing from me in exchange for our time together.

  "What did you say?"

  She knows exactly what I said. "We may need to remove that."

  "We're not removing it." Her hand taps the top of the binder. "We worked for days to add that, Mr. Hughes. An entire scene had to be rewritten to accommodate that. If we change it now, it's going to delay opening night. We'll have to push back previews. It's going to cost you a lot more."

  Thanks a hell of a lot for pointing out that I'm footing this exercise in inevitable failure, Sharma. I stare at her across from my desk. This is my problem now. It's not hers. I need to talk to Libby about the solo. It's hers if she wants it but I know she'll refuse.

  "What do you think?" she presses. "Do you want it changed again?"

  "Fuck." I spit out. "Fuck, no. Leave it as is."

  "Do you have someone in mind for the solo or should I be holding auditions?"

  Libby's words race through my mind. She doesn't want to be singled out. "Do the auditions."

  "Good." Her nostrils fume. "There's another matter we need to discuss."

  This shit is never ending. I have actual, moneymaking business to get to. I need for this meeting to be over. "What?"

  "It's Libby Duncan."

  My eyes shoot up to rest on hers. "What about her?"

  "She asked me for a favor." She nervously taps the edge of her knee. "I thought you'd want to know."

  I'm not one to pass by an opportunity to do some damage control. "What does that have to do with me? You're her boss. You should be handling favors."

  She raises both brows. "I just thought you'd want to know."

  "Does it involve the show?" That's a fucked up question. Why wouldn't it be about the show? I need to calm the fuck down when Libby's name is mentioned.

  "She has a contract with us and she's been asking about getting out of it."