Damn. I wanted to get away from this infernal metal prison. I wanted to go home where I could relax with a nice glass of scotch in my hand and make the boo-boo all better. A little hair of the dog. I could almost taste it now – the rich, smooth, peaty flavor sliding down my throat. Just thinking about it made my mouth go even drier. Yes. If I couldn’t get laid, I’d drink the hollow ache away.
If I can get a hold of my fucking driver. Oh, Myrna, where are you? If you will only come back to work today, you can have a dollar an hour raise. And my firstborn.
Normally, at the end of each day, Myrna would call my driver when I was ready to leave. I didn’t know the number, but I figured it couldn’t be that hard to find it. Myrna was competent and indispensable but how hard could it be to make a simple phone call?
I don’t need Myrna or anyone, I thought as I picked up the phone. I’ve got this.
With a smirk, I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I punched ‘0’ for the building’s operator with the end of the Mount Blanc I’d treated myself to after my first million-dollar real estate deal. I still smiled when I looked at it. A splurge. One of many that had come since. The phone rang twice before someone picked up and I asked to be transferred to our car service. I waited for the transfer, annoyed at the buzzing in my ear.
“Hello. How may I serve you today?”
“This is Chase Bradenton from Banks Realty,” I said, my words coming out in clipped annoyance. “I need my driver, Diego. Can you send him right away?”
I frowned as I listened to the breathy giggle on the other end of the phone.
“I can give you what you need, Chase,” a woman’s voice purred. Sexy. Seductive. A warm, velvety river of feminine grace and poise. “You’re exactly where you need to be.”
My mouth dried up as if I’d inhaled a cotton ball and tried to chew. Either Marilyn Monroe had come back from the dead, or I’d somehow traveled backwards in time. I’d never heard a woman talk like that – and I’d heard a lot of women in the throes of passion, screaming my name. I grinned to myself. If there was one thing I prided myself on besides my business acumen, it was the notches on my bedpost.
“What?” I asked, then cringed – I sounded so lame. My voice actually quivered as my cock roared to life. Heaven help me. A man needed a quick lay when the customer service agent of Town Cars Unlimited could give him a semi. “I mean,” I added, clearing my throat. But the cotton-mouthed lump wouldn’t subside. “I need help right now. I’m trying to get ahold of my driver, Diego Montez.”
The breathy giggle sounded again, and all the blood in my body drove straight south. “You came to the right place,” a woman’s voice purred. “I’ll be your driver.”
“I said I need my regular driver, Diego,” I snapped, not like being fucked with. Even by a voice that sounded like sex and pure heaven. I pressed my fingers into my temples, not wanting to play this game. It was New York City, and it was a bitch to get around, especially when I felt like living hell. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I’d gotten attached to Diego who seemed to get me where I needed to be on time and with little drama. “I don’t want another driver. I want Diego.”
Christ. I sound like a pathetic, whining, piece of Diego whipped shit.
“No need to get rude with me, sweetheart,” the voice cooed. “I’m right here, all by myself.” There was a pause. “I’m running my hand down my body, thinking of you and where we’ll go. When we drive.” She moaned softly, then giggled again, a sultry explosion of lust. “I’m thinking of you taking me somewhere, tossing me in the back seat of your car…”
I glared at the phone in my hand as if the sleek chrome had sprouted fangs dripping venom. “I want you to send Diego,” I repeated, my voice trailing off at the end. Why was this woman being so difficult? And inappropriate? In spite of her continued antics, I was starting to feel foolish – who the hell was I talking to, anyway? Was everyone in the whole building coming off a bender?
“Diego can come too,” the voice purred, floating over me like the finest scotch. The scotch I’d give anything to be holding in my hand right now. Neat. “I love two men at once. Have you ever been with another man?”
I squinted. “Who is this?”
“My name’s Bunny, love,” the voice purred. “Bunny Cummings.”
What the fuck? That sounded like one of those ridiculous stripper names you create by pairing your first pet with your childhood street. But that couldn’t be possible.
I snorted, mind racing, my body tingling with yearning. A yearning she’d started, never to finish. Damn women and their endless games.
“I think I called the wrong number.” And assuming you’re lying, your parents were literally insane. “There’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” I added. “I don’t know who you are, but–”
“But you’d like to know me better?” The woman giggled. “Aw, shucks. That’s what every man says to me. Honey, why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?” There was a pause. I just sat in my chair. Immobile. Numb except for the thunder in my boxer briefs.
“I’ll go first,” she said seductively. “I’m five foot nine, with long brown hair that ends right above the perfect swells of my ass. I have large, round breasts, and trim, muscular… and flexible legs.” She sighed in a breathy way. As she sighed, my cock strained against my zipper, making me groan. “And I’m wearing a black lace teddy, which scoops my breasts up and pushes them together. I can imagine you yanking the fabric down and capturing my swollen nipples in between your lush lips.”
“What?”
“Sweet love, you must be shy,” Bunny said, clucking her tongue. I imagined her in my mind’s eye and groaned. She giggled again. “I never thought someone as shy as you would give me a call. I have a reputation to uphold, you know? I’m the boldest one here.”
The boldest customer service agent at TCL? Holy shit. This broad was probably the most fearless hourly wage worker in the entire city, and that was saying something. And I have a glass of scotch waiting for me, I thought. Please God, let the scotch be flowing freely tonight. I knew that I should hang up, but I couldn’t help myself. It was as if I’d passed an accident with a fatality and I couldn’t look away, searching for the white chalk outline of my own body.
“Look,” I said sharply. “I wasn’t trying to call anyone for phone sex, okay? I really was trying to get my driver. I must have accidentally gotten patched through–”
“Well, everything happens for a reason, Chase,” Bunny purred. “And I think you’re right where you need to be.” Her voice went down an octave, and I couldn’t help but shiver. “So, why not tell me a little about what you want? And don’t say anything about a driver. I’m far more exciting than Diego could ever be.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. “Look,” I said. “I’m sure you’re a nice girl. And this isn’t a reflection on you at all, but I need to get going. I’m dying to get home and have a drink. It’s been a hell of a week.”
The woman’s giggle was musical. “Tell me about it, studmuffin,” she said on a silky puff of breath. “I’m dying to get home too. Run myself a nice hot bath, rub some lavender bath oil over my breasts until my nipples harden into nubs. Pour some champagne… over my swollen pussy. You know, relax a little bit. How do you relax, Chase?”
The way she whispered my name made my cock throb between my legs. I wondered what she looked like when an orgasm overtook her senses. I jumped to my feet, feeling trapped in my own body. Blood pounding, pulse racing. As if I could climb into the phone and slam this woman to the ground, covering her soft body with my rock hard one.
“I have to go,” I said, moving the phone away from my ear. Because if we continue, I’m going to come all over myself and frighten the new intern so bad she’ll run screaming from the building right out onto Broadway to get flattened by a taxi. “I’m sorry.”
“Chase,” Bunny said, softening her tone. Almost sounding sad. “Would it hurt you to relax, just a little bit? I could help you.
Then you could find your driver, go home, and have that drink.” She giggled again, and optimism flowed over me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d hoped she wasn’t the kind that threw in the towel that quickly because I like a woman with sass and fire. One who wouldn’t back down or capitulate to me. One that would ride me twenty-four-seven like a crazy cowgirl. “I think all drinks taste better after you come hard, don’t you? And because you seem to be nervous, this one is on me?”
On her? What the hell?
I swallowed. Glancing into the hallway, I made sure that no one was in sight. For the first time that day, I was glad that Myrna wasn’t here. Looking down at my watch, I saw that I’d already wasted ten minutes on the phone. What harm could five more do? I allowed my mind to indulge in one final taste of the illicit. And then I did something I swore I’d never do again.
I surrendered to a woman.
“You’ve got five minutes,” I said in a staccato rhythm as I tried in vain to calm my raging blood. “Under one condition.”
“I like a challenge,” Bunny replied smoothly. “So what’s your condition? I aim to please.”
She laughed, and I closed my eyes and imagined her – just like she’d said, with long brown hair that flowed down her back and a perfect little hard body. Then, I imagined my hands and tongue tracing circles around every inch of her.
“A name. A real name. And don’t lie. I can spot a liar at forty paces.”
A long pause ensued, and I imagined her trying to come up with another stripper name to put me off.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“Chastity.”
I hissed out a breath. After all the warnings, she went and disappointed me. Typical, joyless woman. And I felt it deep in my gut like I’d been stabbed in it with a dull knife. Or a number two pencil. If she was going to lie to me, I was done.
Done.
“Fuck you, Chastity,” I hissed, letting the annoyance turn to rage. Even though I directed it toward her, it really was a culmination of all the pain and suffering I’d endured at the hands of female kind. “I’m hanging up.”
“No!” The single, frantic, and strained syllable was the only honest thing she’d said since the beginning of this fucked up phone call. The anguish in her voice gave me a second’s pause, and she rushed forward. “Please, Chase?”
Please.
The breathless word that had been the downfall of thousands of men since the dawn of time. Including me.
“Time’s ticking,” I said, leaning back in my chair and kicking my feet up on the desk. Decision made. She had a chance. But only one. “Better get started, Chastity.”
“Of course,” the woman said. “Anything for you, Chase. And by the way, I swear on my grandma’s grave that my name is Chastity.” She made a little moaning sound. “You wanna know what I’m doing right now?”
“Yes.” My heart pounded in my chest, my cock was rock-hard in my pants. Straining. Just like my heart used to. But not anymore. I’d permanently detached my heart from my cock. Life was easier and safer that way. There were walls erected around that traitorous organ now that were better than the work of expert masons. Nothing was getting through. Not even a backhoe. Not even a battering ram. Especially, not a woman.
“Well, I’m running my hands down my body, Chase,” Chastity purred. “I love the way this lace feels over my skin – tight, almost a little itchy. Like I have something to scratch … oh!” She trailed off, moaning loudly. “Oh, that feels so good,” she continued in a throaty, loud whisper. “Chase, I’m rubbing my pussy through the lace.” Chastity moaned then, deep and low, the sound echoing in my balls. “My clit is so swollen, and my pussy juices are escaping. I’m so hot for you right now.”
My palms dampened, causing me to wipe them on my too-tight pants. I wished I’d put my fat pants on today, so I’d have more room for my swollen member. The damn thing had gotten so hard the ache pierced my brain. The urge to stroke my cock was getting stronger and stronger. Get myself off. Swallowing hard, I checked the hallway again and made sure that it was empty. I closed my eyes and gently ran my hand over the bulge at the fork of my trousers. My cock instantly responded to the touch, growing hotter and harder by the second.
“Oh, Chase,” Chastity moaned loudly. “I wish you were here, licking my pussy. I wish your face was buried between my thighs, tasting my juices. I’m so wet for you, I’m gonna come so hard. I can tell just by the sound of your sexy voice that you’re a man of skills.”
You’re not shitting, Chastity. Too bad this is verbal only and you’ll never be the lucky recipient of my pussy licking skill set. I inhaled a ragged breath as my heart slammed against my ribs. I rubbed my cock again, harder this time, and gripped the desk with my other hand so I wouldn’t make a sound.
“Chase, tell me what your cock looks like,” Chastity breathed. “I want to picture it. I want to think about how it would feel sliding inside of me. Stretching me. Filling me to overflowing.”
“It’s big,” I said in a guttural voice. Because I couldn’t get anything else past my parched throat. “And hard.”
It’s so fucking hard I felt like it was going to explode under my own hand and between two layers of fabric. Shit. I’d never been so turned on by a woman I couldn’t even see. I shivered as I considered what would happen if Chastity had been in this office in the flesh.
There was a sound in the doorway, and I dropped the phone on the desk with a loud clatter.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Mr. Bradenton?”
Blood rushed to my head, the one on top of my shoulders, and I sat up straight in the chair, whirling toward the door. Angela hovered there, a notebook in her hand.
“What?” I snapped. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m on a call?”
“I called your driver,” Angela said softly, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “You said … did I disturb you?” She walked cautiously into my office. “Diego is waiting outside; he’s been circling–”
“No!” I snapped, holding my hand up in the air. “I’m fine.”
This poor college kid must think I was a first class asshole when I was normally known for my laid back vibe. But Chastity … well, that naughty vamp had turned me into a frantic, sex-crazed, corporate pervert. Angela frowned so I tried to smile at her, but could tell it was coming off like a sneer. Perspiration dampened my brow, and my cock was still throbbing, my balls tight, protesting the lack of resolution to my little problem.
“I’m fine, Angela. Thanks.”
She shot me a suspicious look laced with confusion but finally turned around and walked away. Letting out a sigh of relief, I flopped back in the chair and wiped my brow with the back of my hand. The phone was still off the hook, and with a touch of regret, I picked up the receiver and slammed it down into the cradle.
Chastity, my ass, I thought as I waited for my massive erection to subside. There was a gnawing ache in my groin, and I knew that in a few minutes, I was going to have the biggest case of blue balls in all of New York.
Taking a deep breath, I shoved my laptop into my Gucci messenger bag and slipped the strap over my shoulder. Aside from a little sweat on my forehead, I looked pretty normal. Gritting my teeth, I walked out of the office and took the elevator down to the lobby. And Diego. The very male and heterosexual Diego.
The elevator stopped on the second floor, and I groaned.
Why, of all fucking days, why can’t I just be alone right now?
I rolled my eyes, waiting as the doors slowly opened. A petite girl with a generous, curvy figure and dirty-blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun atop her heart-shaped face stepped inside. She was cute – not out of this world hot – but cute enough. But after what I’d just experienced, nothing short of Alessandra Ambrosio stepping on to this damn metal box on ropes was going to turn my head.
Then, she smiled, and my heart stopped in my chest. Somehow, the twinkle in her eyes and curve of her lips transformed her relatively average face into one of drop-de
ad beauty. Lush lips wrapped around perfect white teeth and a charming dimple in her left cheek went on full display. My hand itched to reach out so I could poke a finger into the indentation.
“It’s not nice to stare,” she said, gazing up at me. I frowned. There was something very familiar about her for some reason.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Long day.”
“Tell me about it,” she said, shaking her head with a girlish giggle that tinkled over me like a breath of fresh air on a humid day. “Some of the assholes I have to deal with at work, I swear! This job might be the death of me.”
I blinked. “I’m Chase,” I said impulsively, offering her my hand.
Her emerald green eyes met mine and lit with recognition at my name, and the smile fell away from her face. I knew that she knew me somehow. Probably from the gossip section of The Times. Nolan was famous for making it in the paper, and I tended to fall into the guilt by association category right alongside him or his new wife, Charlie.
Then I saw it. The nametag on a bag she was carrying, her name looking like it was written in neon lights.
She saw me see it and swallowed hard before blowing out a long breath. “Chastity,” she said, holding out an elegant hand, her cheeks turning the prettiest pink. I imagined her tapered fingers wrapped around my cock. “Nice to meet you.”
Chapter Two
Chastity
I couldn’t believe my stroke of luck after a horseshit day. The Greek god standing in front of me had to be the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life. He was tall and lean – but toned – and his cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut diamonds.
A strong, chiseled jaw peppered with just a hint of dark scruff completed the sexy look. Best of all, he was tall; at least six-three or four. The top of my head barely came up to his chin. And he had gorgeous, big hands with a sprinkling of dark hair on the back. I couldn’t help but notice the lack of a wedding band.
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