Sharing Nicely

by Blisse, Victoria

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Sharing Nicely

  ISBN # 978-1-78184-470-0

  ©Copyright Victoria Blisse 2013

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2013

  Edited by Eleanor Boyall

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 132 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 14 pages.

  SHARING NICELY

  Victoria Blisse

  Two hot, sexy billionaires know what they want and they want her, but will they be happy to share nicely?

  Kerry Matthews is used to stress—she runs her own high-end London club called Diamonds—but what she isn’t used to is attention from two very persuasive and powerful men.

  Darren Bennett and Greg Stamford are lifelong rivals, but call a truce to spend one night with sassy, curvy Kerry. They’re not content to share forever, though. They both have a selfish desire to possess her completely.

  Darren buys her seductive lingerie, flowers and chocolates. Greg flies her to Paris for a romantic break, cleans her flat and makes her breakfast in bed. Both vying to cement their place in her heart. She needs to decide between them but is dazzled by their persuasive personas and extravagant gifts.

  Will Kerry be blinded by the bank balance or will she find the man behind the money?

  Dedication

  Mum, you claim to be the spark to my writing imagination and your encouragement means the world to me. Without you passing on your love of books to me, I wouldn’t be an author now. Thank you.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  James Bond: Ian Fleming/Metro Goldwyn-Meyer

  Mini: BMW AG

  Monopoly: Hasbro

  Strictly Come Dancing: BBC

  Twitter: Twitter, Inc.

  Zorro: Zorro Productions Inc

  Chapter One

  My club was full of millionaires. It was terrifying. I sashayed around the room in comfortable heels and a sexy dress, smiling, when all I wanted to do was get behind the scenes to check everything was moving smoothly. But I couldn’t. No, I was front of house tonight and I had to be, like it or not.

  It was a dream come true to be hosting the Entrepreneur Awards. I had worked damned hard to get my club, Diamonds, up to standard. I’d started out with a huge loan that frightened me and a building crew who seemed to spend more time drinking tea than transforming my vision into reality. Eventually, though, my restaurant and bar had taken shape and it had stayed essentially the same ever since. The dance floor was the prominent feature, the tables arranged around the outside lip. People came to Diamonds to eat, drink, laugh and dance. We did have quieter cubicles at the back for those who wanted to talk with their mouths instead of their bodies and it was this balance of fun, excitement and hidey-holes that kept Diamonds at the top of the business and one of the hottest names on the London entertainment circuit.

  Happily, the chance I’d taken had paid off. I’d settled into a routine and spent every spare minute at my club. People told me it wasn’t healthy, that I worked too much, but if I took time off what would I do with it? I enjoyed my work so I buried myself in it.

  I liked to be in the back, checking on the chef and the wait staff, going through set lists and dealing with problems as they arose, but I knew tonight I had to be out schmoozing. The varied visitors—men and women of all ages, sizes and creeds—had more money between them than certain nations. These guests were seriously loaded. Everyone was on the rich list. The poorest were mere millionaires but the big fish like Greg Stamford and Darren Bennett were billionaires.

  I wanted to book them in for tables or private functions. I wanted them to become regulars at my place. I wanted their money in my tills.

  I could entertain up front like this—I could smile and flirt and sell myself and my business pretty well, but I didn’t like doing it. However, it was too important tonight to pass the buck to one of my assistants. I had to do it myself.

  To ease myself in, I started by chatting to a group of people gathered around a lovely couple who were regulars at Diamonds already.

  “Hello, Kerry, enjoying the evening?” Sasha asked, flashing her perfect white smile beneath her expensive lipstick-soaked lips.

  “As much as I can considering I’m working.” I smiled. She introduced me to the people around her, including a snack food entrepreneur whose products were household staples all over the world. He was small and dumpy and had a very disconcerting habit of squeezing my thigh but before our conversation finished he’d booked a private party that would boost my profits handsomely. It was a good start to the evening.

  I moved on. My cheeks ached from so many smiles, my throat was dry and I wanted to take off the stupid heels and slip into my sensible, flat everyday shoes that cradled my toes instead of crushing them. I’d only been out front for a couple of hours. The night was still young.

  Taking a champagne flute from a tray as one of my waitresses passed, I looked across the crowd. Everywhere I looked there were designer dresses and suits, expensive watches and bracelets and necklaces that cost more than my annual salary to buy.

  By the bar were two men who earned more a day than I did in a year. Darren Bennett and Greg Stamford were bitter rivals in the technology world. They created apps for phones and their companies had really taken over the field—spreading out into associated technologies, owning their own mobile phone networks. I was subscribed to Greg’s, actually. I’d never used any of the apps they were world famous for, though. I only owned a basic mobile phone and switched it on once in a blue moon. I wasn’t terribly technically minded.

  Greg was tall and severe, all angles and hard lines. He was with a pretty famous model. She had to be fairly well known because even I recognised her face and I didn’t buy women’s magazines—they made me feel uncomfort
able, as their models were so thin and elegant, the polar opposite of me. She was blonde and stick-like while he was dark. He had a caramel tan that spoke of weeks beneath exotic skies and his hair was dark black, like the classiest limousine, and equally shiny. And hot. He could take me any which way he liked, the more hostile the better.

  Darren looked similar but yet completely different. He had the same elegant air and self-assured smile and stance but his hair was fiery and red. He kept it short but it curled lazily against his scalp and made him appear more relaxed. His style was more playful—even at a distance I could see he was wearing a novelty tie with a character from one of his most popular mobile games. When he laughed, which he did often and loudly, his whole face lit up.

  He also had a beautiful woman beside him, a raven-haired beauty I recognised from something on the television. She was holding an in-depth conversation with Greg’s model partner. The way they smiled at each other and touched led me to believe they were flirting with each other. I couldn’t blame them. The men beside them, though obnoxiously rich and annoyingly handsome, hadn’t shown them an ounce of interest in all the time I had watched them. They were engaged in conversation with serious men. I was sure they were working the room just as I was.

  A lovely couple distracted me for a while. They wanted to find out my availability for their wedding reception. I spent a good time chatting through the options and dates with the two and when they walked off to find their table for the award ceremony I was happy in the knowledge that I’d secured a very lucrative deal indeed.

  “Excuse me, would you like a drink?”

  I turned and found myself looking into the startling blue eyes of Darren Bennett.

  “Water would be good, thank you.” I smiled.

  He turned to Richard behind the bar and asked for a water and a pint of bitter for himself.

  “You’re the owner here, right?” he asked, returning to face me.

  “Yes, I’m Kerry Matthews, nice to meet you.” I offered my hand and he took it in his and shook it vigorously.

  “Lovely to meet you, Kerry. I’m Darren Bennett from Bear Enterprises.”

  “Are you enjoying the evening so far?” I took a sip from the glass of water that had just been placed beside me. I tried to hide my nerves—even though I’d been chatting with important people all night I was a little in awe of this man.

  “Yes, so far so good. I’ve made some good new contacts, chatted to a few old friends. I am sure the ceremony will be as boring as always, but what can you do?”

  “Not come?” I offered.

  He shrugged, drank from his pint and wiped the foam from his top lip with the back of his hand. It made me wonder what it would be like to kiss the beer droplets from there. He had particularly plump and inviting lips.

  “I have been informed I have to be here. Means I must be getting another trophy or something.”

  “It must be nice to be so casual about it,” I remarked without thinking. Darren just laughed.

  “It must sound like I’m a total bastard. Sorry. I do like getting these things—always good to know I’m doing things right, you know? But once you’ve been to one of these dos you’ve been to them all.” His northern accent was more prominent when he let down his guard and laughed.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “No, not at all. It’s refreshing to be told the truth. I get sick of being pandered to.”

  “Well, I can pull out some insults too if you’d like, you know, to really make your night.”

  He laughed again, making my insides churn in a pleasurable way. “I’m okay for now. Save those for after the ceremony—you can bring me back down a peg or two.”

  I nodded then took a deep draught of my water. The ice coldness chilled me, a momentary relief from the heat burning through my veins.

  “Do you want to come and sit at my table?” he asked. “My companion got fed up of me talking business and left with a friend of hers so there’s space.”

  I was supposed to go back to the kitchens to monitor how things were going on behind the scenes, but I was seriously tempted by his offer. Not just because he had enough money to buy himself an island or because he was smoking hot. Oh, who was I trying to kid? He might have been a bit funny but mostly I said yes because I wanted to snog him then get him to part with his cash. Put like that it made me sound like a prostitute, but you know what I mean. I hope. I’d really like him to bring some business my way, or buy me a jet plane or maybe a pony. Frivolous or practical, his cash would make my life easier.

  The table he led me to was near the front, just at the edge of the dance floor where a stage had been erected. I made a mental note to praise the staff who had come in early to set up the tables. The white cloth was immaculate and the flowers looked stunning and crisply fresh. Everything was perfect.

  “So, what got you into the whole entertainment business, Kerry?” Darren asked when we took our seats.

  “My dad owned a pub when I was little. I loved it. I used to long for the day when I could serve behind the bar but he left the trade before I was old enough to. I was a barmaid for years while I put myself through college and university and once I’d got the degree I decided to get myself a pub of my own. Then I saw this place quite by accident, fell in love, took out a stonking great loan and the rest is history.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a very sound business head on your shoulders, Kerry.”

  “I like to think so.” I blushed at his compliment. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes but they’ve all worked out in the end.”

  “That’s business.” Darren replied. Then the tone of conversation changed dramatically. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I think you’re stunning.”

  I felt more stunned than stunning. Where had that comment come from? “Well, thank you.”

  “I know it’s a little unprofessional, but I didn’t get this far without speaking my mind, you know?”

  “Sure,” I squeaked. My head felt light and completely devoid of ideas. All the blood in my body seemed equally split between my cheeks and my nether regions. I was embarrassed and turned on—it was a strange combination to say the least.

  “When I see something I like, I go for it.” His gaze dipped down to my breasts and waist then back up to my face.

  “Well…” Finally, my brain rebooted and the words leapt forth. “You’ll have to work a bit harder to get me. I’m not easily satisfied.”

  “Really?” His right eyebrow rose impressively. “I do enjoy a challenge.”

  Just then the arrival of another entrepreneur changed the focus of the conversation. I was very surprised to find Greg Stamford standing beside me. Especially because the seating plan I’d done had put the two guys far away from each other.

  “Hello.” I smiled. “Are you at the right table? I thought Akshay Mistry was meant to sit here.”

  “No, I’m definitely at the right table. Apparently they made a last-minute change.” He stopped paying me any attention and looked over to Darren. “Hi, they’re playing this game again.”

  “How unusual, eh?” Darren’s Scouse roots came through as he spoke to his biggest business rival. “We shouldn’t be talking, it will spoil their illusion.”

  The gentlemen must have glanced at me long enough to realise I looked confused. Greg pulled up a chair and wafted his sharp, light aftershave in my direction. He continued the conversation and pulled me into it.

  “Every time we attend something like this, parties, award ceremonies…”

  “Prize givings, charity dos.” Darren continued Greg’s sentence.

  “Any time Darren and I are in the same room, the organisers orchestrate it so we have to share space and so the press can get some photos of us staring daggers at each other.”

  “It’s old hat,” Darren agreed, “but it guarantees them space in the tabloids and celeb mags.”

  “Oh, well. Do you two mind?”

  I found myself at the centre of two
intense stares. I was quite deliciously uncomfortable—it wasn’t every day I got scrutinised by two eligible bachelors. I batted my gaze from side to side, almost making myself dizzy while I waited for one of them to speak.

  “It’s part of the game.” Greg responded first with a noncommittal shrug.

  “One of these days we’ll embrace and kiss just to freak them out.” Darren’s eyes sparkled with mischief and Greg’s dark gaze narrowed reproachfully. I didn’t think he appreciated that plan.

  “Well, don’t let me get in your way.” I leant back in my chair as if to give them room to embrace. The look on their faces was priceless and I laughed as I rocked back to my position. “Only kidding.”

  A drum roll and a blast of music announced the arrival of the compère and our attention was transferred to the stage. While people clapped for the first nominee I felt a gentle touch on my right arm. I looked around and found Greg’s handsome face far closer to me than I had expected it to be. The rest of his delicious body was curved in towards me too.

  He leaned in farther and I directed my ear near to his lips. I tried not to think of how it would feel to have his lips and teeth nibble on my earlobe. I failed miserably.

  “You’re the owner here, aren’t you?” he asked.

  I nodded. The crowd were quiet, so were obviously expecting an announcement. I didn’t want to disturb the moment.

  “Yes, Kerry Matthews, nice to meet you.” I glanced his way and saw him smile, the hard lines of his face softening a little, making him seem more approachable. He leaned in to talk again so I tipped my head once more so I could hear him.

  “Great place you’ve got here.”

  I turned to thank him and he was still really close to my face. Our lips were centimetres away from meeting. I pulled back a little. He didn’t move at all.

  “Thanks.” I smiled, uncomfortable at his close proximity. Not because I didn’t want him near—I suspected we’d have a lot of fun getting up close and naked. No, I felt on edge because I barely knew the guy yet he was arrogantly invading my personal space. It unsettled me.