I fucked her hard. And I can’t stop thinking about doing it again. And again. Her perfect little cunt submitted to me in the sweetest way. I knew having her in my mouth was going to test my patience, but when I snapped and shoved my dick so deep inside her, it felt like heaven. Her moans of pain and pleasure sifted through my eardrums like music. She was so tight. So wet. So willing.
She was a big fucking headache.
I swipe my palms down my face, trying to pull my eyes away from her perfect tits, exposed and taunting me. I should put my dick between them and fuck her until I blow on her chest. Come in her mouth and make her lick me clean. Jesus. I turn away from her. But not before noticing the faint bruises just above her hip bone. Pleasure mixed with guilt fill me. She is little. Delicate. I shouldn’t have been so rough with her.
But she loved every fucking second of it.
Fredrick watched me drag her off the dance floor. His tone this morning while giving me the breakdown of what I missed last night was more than telling. He disapproves of what I’m doing. He’s stated on more than one occasion he feels Jensen is nothing but trouble. And I completely agree with him. She shouldn’t be in this club. She can ruin everything my father built. Everything I’ve worked to maintain since the day I took over. But for the first time since I took the reins of Exquisite, I’m feeling a sense of clarity. And it’s all because of her. She makes me remember the person I was before I landed here. Before I became the man I am now.
She allows me to remember what freedom tastes like. Because that’s how I feel when I’m with her. And maybe that’s what makes Fredrick so on edge. He sees it in me too.
He knows damn well what my meetings with Simmons are about. He’s been smart to keep his mouth shut and his opinions to himself. But with each meeting, I can sense his urge to confront me. And after last night, he sees I’m slipping in my sternness to run this club—something my father would never allow to happen if he were still alive.
But it’s a good thing no one tells me how to run things. I’m the one who makes the rules, not Fredrick. And I don’t give a rat’s ass if my father would approve or not. He’s buried so deep, his opinion on the matter is just that: dead and void.
I’m still staring down at Jensen when the realization fully hits me. It’s her who’s going to give me the push I need to finally walk away. She’s the breath of fresh air I needed to finally think clearly. My savior. I see such life in her. So much of my old self that I know I can be that person once again. I see myself being that person with her. Holding a camera once again, capturing life’s beauty as I once embraced it. Having her flawless skin fill my screen. Whisking her away to all the beautiful places in the world, which wouldn’t hold a candle next to her. Never return to this town. The place that has destroyed my youth.
Hard realization hits me. She’s still in her youth. She has her whole life ahead of her. Why would she leave everything for a man like me?
She’s just going to have to be convinced.
I toss my phone on the chair and pick up the file Fredrick dropped off this morning. Jensen starts to stir, and her hands wipe away some drool from her chin. She flips, now laying on her stomach, her cute little ass cheeks on display.
I smile, and the reaction feels foreign. I fucking smile at the way this girl just sprawls out in my bed, as if she just got the best night’s sleep. Then again, this is the second time she’s slept like a baby in my bed. My smile fades, thinking about what kind of beds she’s forced to sleep on in those dorms.
Her little groans let me know she’s starting to wake up. She begins to stretch, pulling one leg to her chest, exposing that sweet pussy of hers.
She lifts her head, her hair a complete mess. “Shit, what time is it?” She’s looking for a clock, which I don’t have. I stand there and wait for her to remember she’s naked and gets shy with me. My smile is back on my face at the confusion growing on hers. Then it happens. She squirms to grab the sheet, covering herself. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pass out. I’m getting up.” She sits up, clenching the sheet for dear life, looking for her clothes.
“Good. Be dressed and ready to go in five minutes.” I walk away just as a pillow hits my back.
“Seriously, are you ever not a prick?” I turn to her and offer my deviant smile.
“No.” I wink at her, then head toward the kitchen for coffee.
It doesn’t take long before she’s dressed, and the stomping of her feet echoes across my tile floor. “Thanks for the ride last night, asshole.” She walks past me, then stops. “Oh yeah…and here’s your stalker phone.” Pulling it out of her purse, she sets the device on the counter. She goes to leave when I stop her.
“Where are you going exactly?”
She twists to face me, her eyes throwing daggers. “Uh, I’m leaving, as you so rudely requested.”
I toss the file I’m holding on the long counter, forcing her to catch it before it falls to the ground. “I told you to get ready. I didn’t tell you to leave.”
“You said be ready. Pretty much same thing.”
“Correct, because I want to show you something. I’d hate for you to walk through the club naked…unless that’s what you prefer now that you’ve earned your naughty stripes.” I can’t hide my smile. Her blushing cheeks please me like no other. She doesn’t know what to say, which makes me even happier. About time I found a way to shut her up.
She loses our little stare down battle and brings her eyes to the folder. “What is this?” She opens the file and scans the documents inside.
“It’s the numbers from last night. Total capacity, bar totals, private room fees. Profit and loss. I want you to look at it.”
Her head snaps up. “Why?”
“Your major is business, isn’t it?”
She returns with a peculiar look. “Yeah, but I know nothing about running a business.”
“You know enough to point out the club is over capacity. The bar is losing money. The private rooms are lacking toys.” I throw the last one in to mess with her, and her eyes go wide.
“I know nothing about—”
“I’m kidding. Now, if you’re ready, walk the floor with me.” I place my coffee mug on the counter and escort her to the main floor. I start reading off the information I know from what I scanned earlier.
“You’re right in your observations. The bar is losing money. Since the increase in membership over the last two years, the place is overbooked. We’re packed every night. That’s even after allowing the headcount to go over capacity by three percent.”
I walk Jensen through the closed bar area. The bar is so different in daylight. If I didn’t know what really took place at night, I would easily mistake this club for a normal establishment. But after all these years, the things I’ve seen…endured…the person it’s turned me into, I won’t change my decision, and I need someone from the outside I can trust. Fredrick has shown his true colors as of late. I need someone who will give it to me straight. Besides Simmons, there are very few people I trust to handle this. And strangely enough, Jensen is one of them. I want out, and she’s gonna help me do it.
“So, I’m still confused. What exactly is it I’m looking for?”
We walk across the empty dance floor to the other side of the club, and I lead her into the conference room off to the side. I had Fredrick retrieve all documents showing the figures from the past six months—another issue he pushed back on. “I want you to tell me where the profit and loss is within the club. What the total worth of this club is to a buyer.”
Her eyebrows go up, offering me another curious look, but doesn’t respond. Once she sees all the paperwork laid out neatly in stacks, she nods and gets down to business. I sit on my phone and return messages while I watch her work. When I had Fredrick find anything and everything about her, I learned about her scholarship in business. The program only handed those out to five of their top elite applicants—and she came in second on that list. Her test scores were close to perfec
t. Her high school GPA was a 4.0 with honors. She was top of her class in math, ranking seventh in the entire district of her state. She could have gone anywhere and been accepted.
I gave her the tools she needed. She sat on Excel for the first hour, punching in numbers and highlighting specifics: room fees, bar tabs, liquor orders. Curiosity had me at a standstill, wondering what she possibly could find that my men, even Simmons, couldn’t. Another hour went by and she still hadn’t lifted her eyes away from the computer. Once we hit the third hour, I begin to get restless. The last hour is spent staring at her lips while she mumbles numbers. I can’t stop imagining my cock in her mouth, working me…those small whimpers that leave her lips as she sucks me off.
“It’s getting hard to work with you staring at me. And kinda starting to creep me out, to be honest.”
I snap out of it, realizing she’s looking at me. “Yes, well…how much more time do you need? It’s past lunchtime and I’m starving.” I want to say for her sweet cunt, but the fact guilts me. I have yet to offer her food and it’s nearing one in the afternoon.
“Right. I’ll just get out of your hair then. It shows that—”
“Jensen, I’m planning on taking you to lunch.” I shake my head at her. I guess I haven’t done a thing to lead her to believe I want her in my presence. The way she satisfied me last night, I’m not sure I’ll ever let her out of my sight.
“Oh. Got it. Right. Lunch. I’m actually really hungry. Starving…” she trails off. Back is the uncomfortable shy girl I first met.
I suggest we table her findings until later and head to a highly sought Asian restaurant in the heart of downtown. I need to get her in a public setting and shut down the urges telling me to make her ride me right here in the conference room, then take her back upstairs and fuck her in every single crevice of my loft. My mind takes me to a dark place at all the things I want to do to her. All the things I want to teach her, train her, discipline her.
“I’m not the lunch, am I?”
She’s dressed in a fitted white tank top, accentuating her perfect tits, and an even tighter pair of yoga pants. I sent Fredrick out before she woke to grab her some clothes since I trashed hers. She looks absolutely edible. The things my mind already has me doing to her. I’m not sure a simple lunch will ever cure the appetite I have for her. The way she stirs the beast inside me is alarming. I’m a sexual man, with very strong restraints, but with her, my mind struggles to set limits.
I snap out of my dark haze. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve gone quiet. And the way you’re looking at me makes me think I’m the lunch.”
Feasting on her would most definitely fill me, but she wouldn’t be my lunch.
She’d be my dessert.
DAMIEN TAKES US TO A high-end sushi restaurant in the busy part of the city. Sitting at a secluded table in the back, the staff, who seem well acquainted with him, keep putting plate after plate of weird stuff in front of us. Some of it looks like it’s ready to get up and crawl away. “So, any chance you’re going to tell me why you have me doing work that someone more qualified should be doing?” I ask, picking up my chopsticks and attempting the safest looking roll on the table.
“There’s nothing to tell. I want your opinion. Therefore, I’m asking for it.” An unattractive snort leaves my lips, and I quickly throw my hands over my mouth. “And what’s so humorous about that, Ms. Stone?” he asks, lifting his ceramic cup of sake to his lips and taking a sip.
“My help?” I laugh. “I’m a college student. First year, at that. I highly doubt my opinion’s going to help whatever it is you’re hoping for.” Lifting my own cup, I take a large sip and instantly choke, almost sputtering it back on the table. Bad move on my part. “What in God’s name…” I cough some more and grab for my water to wash down the nasty taste.
“It’s sake. And you don’t get offered a full scholarship to one of the top business colleges if you don’t know what you’re doing. You have almost all perfect test scores. Second chosen out of five in the program, not to mention seventh pick in all the district. Do you still think you’re not qualified to evaluate my business, or should I go on? Maybe discuss your science fair trophies—”
“Okay! I get it. Geez. What’d you do, hack my high school records?” The last thing I want to do is talk about how big of a dork I am. Damn love for science. “For real, how do you know all that?”
“I don’t involve myself with anyone without doing my research.”
Wow, good to know since I know absolutely nothing about him. Does knowing how amazing he is in bed count? How he smells like sandalwood and masculinity. How he makes my heart race anytime he’s near me? That my skin tingles at his touch or the butterflies who’ve taken permanent residency in my belly any time those eyes capture mine. My body seems to know him very well. But outside of the physical, I know zilch!
You know he’s not a serial killer.
That’s still just guessing! Serial killers could be great in bed too. So back to not know anything about him—I desperately feel the need to fix that.
“Well, I feel like I know nothing about you,” I start, trying not to sound first date cliché and all. Since this is not a date.
“What is it you think you want to know, Ms. Stone?”
I don’t know. Hobbies, favorite food, why he owns a sex club? I normally make it a thing to know more about the people I’m sexually involved with—oh wait, that’s like one other person. Either way, I would prefer to know more than a few simple details.
“What did you go to school for?” Really, Jensen? Way to do a crappy job at fishing for the answer to the real question of—
“You mean, how did I become the owner of a sex club? I believe that’s what you really want to know.”
Damn, he’s good.
“No. I wasn’t—”
“Exquisite was my father’s legacy. His creation. It landed on me by inheritance.”
Hmm, interesting. Not every day you hear the family business is a sex club. I nod with interest. “And where is your dad?”
“Dead.”
“Damien, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” I take a long sip of water to avoid the sudden awkwardness. I should have stuck to his favorite season or music preference. He remains stoic, indifferent. But there’s no denying the way the grip on his wine glass tightens.
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and he got what was coming to him. Why did you come to Chicago? You could have gone anywhere.”
Dammit with the topic change. I take another hefty sip. “Well, it wasn’t my first choice. I got accepted to Columbia in New York. They also offered me a pretty sweet scholarship. A better one than UIC. But Christine, my best friend, didn’t get accepted. So, we came to Chicago. Which is fine too. Chicago is a great place for arts and science too. I mean, nothing like New York, but I was okay with it.”
“Tell me more about the art.”
“It’s mainly photography. I love it. The dreamer in me wants to become a professional photographer. Be able to spend each day capturing people’s most intimate moments, the beauty of the rising sun, the blossoming of life, architecture…but that’s a passion. Realistically, I want to open my own business. So, learn the ropes first, decide what to open after.” I stop talking, realizing I’ve gone off into a childish tangent about my silly dreams. For someone who is successful in probably everything he touches, I’m sure I’ve put him half to sleep.
My eyes fall to my glass of water as I take a sip but realize it’s empty. I go in search of the waitress in major need of a distraction. Whenever Damien looks at me, it’s like he’s looking at me. Not in a simple connection sort of way. More intense. As if he’s trying to get below my skin. Read me from the inside out.
Unable to stall any longer, I bring my eyes back to his. And the second I do, I know I’ve made a mistake. Those amber flames burn into me, making it impossible not to get lost in his tantalizing gaze. I wait for him to reply, follow up with anything to my babbling, but h
e doesn’t. And his stare continues to do something to me down below.
He’s clearly a professional at the stare off game, because the room becomes a billion degrees hotter and my clothes suddenly feel too heavy over my now flushed skin. A second longer and I’m going to rip my shirt off and beg him to use those lips of his to cool me down. I call it quits and pull my eyes away from his. I hear a soft chuckle from across the table, but I don’t dare make eye contact. I scan the room, searching for anything that won’t trigger my hormones at the way his lips were pressing against the antique cup or the way his throat was contracting as he swallowed the sake. I shove what I believe to be a California roll into my mouth for distraction. Chewing down the gigantic bite, I can’t help but think about how damn sexy he looks in his casual pair of jeans and a crisp white Henley. To think I even tried to convince myself he was nothing to call home about. A muffled laugh travels up my throat and echoes throughout the restaurant. I quickly cover my mouth, not meaning to laugh out loud.
“Now I feel like I’m missing out. What’s so funny?”
“Um, nothing. Was thinking about…uh, school and—”
“The truth, Jensen.”
Dammit.
My mouth opens and closes, and I lift my eyes to his as my belly immediately tightens. “I was admiring your beauty.” There, I said it. And…what in the hell did I just say?
Damien lets out a soft chuckle. My face heats to a deep shade of red. He refills his sake cup and empties it in one swallow. Setting it down, he picks up his napkin and taps at his wet lips. Jesus, I want to be that napkin, pressed against those lips, feeling them on my skin. My sake cup is up, and I take an unladylike chug. Again, I choke. Man, didn’t I learn the first time?
“I believe you’re the beauty here.”
And… I choke again. It’s not every day that a sex god compliments me and calls me a beauty. So, excuse me while I suffocate on the meaning of his words. Not to mention the disgusting drink.
Exquisite Taste Page 12