GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  While Patrice was lost in her thoughts, Rod slid a hand onto her knee. “You know,” he said. “You’ve got one hell of a great body.”

  Her pulse quickened at his touch. She gave him about five seconds before he slid his fingers underneath her short skirt. Uncrossing her legs in anticipation, she ensured he would encounter no resistance. “I’m glad you noticed, stud boy. Because I’d like to propose a partnership agreement.”

  Rod slid his hand up to the highest part of her inner thigh. Gradually, he tightened his grip on her flesh, caressing her leg in a slow pattern. “You have my attention, Patrice. What kind of partnership did you have in mind?”

  “Well.” She traced her finger down his chest, stopping when she reached his belt buckle. “A woman of my social standing isn’t permitted to simply take a lover. At least, not if I want to maintain my social standing, and not throw it away the way Taralynn Clarke has. But, can you imagine how horrified Maggie would be to see you married into her father’s estate? A member of her family? Think you could handle her calling you Uncle Rod?”

  Rod stopped all movement with his hand and intensified his gaze. “You want us to get married?”

  His voice had gone up at least an octave. Patrice smiled, placing her hand over top of his. No way was she going to let her prize wiggle off the hook. “I’m worth over one hundred million dollars, excluding this house.” Another lie. And a huge one at that. But the very mention of the word marriage seemed to have frozen the poor boy into a statue, and there was only one sure way to have him wedded and bedded before reason and reality could spoil her plans. Dangle the carrot he couldn’t resist biting into. Money.

  “I would consider twenty percent of my gross estate, in other words a total of twenty million dollars, excluding this house, to be a fair Prenuptial Agreement,” she continued. Then she lifted her hand to stroke the side of his face, and fairly cooed. “Does that sound fair to you?”

  His eyes widened and his grip tightened on her further. He did everything but drool. “Really?”

  She grinned. “Really. Regardless of who initiates a divorce, you’ll be entitled to twenty percent, not including my house, of course, if our marriage lasts at least one year. Maybe two. And for my part, I’ll ask for only twenty percent in return, and only in the event you initiate a divorce.” No reason in the world why she’d be wanting to divorce him after all. He not only had money, but his sexual prowess was legendary.

  Rod nodded slowly, his gaze now lost in concentration. “That sounds fair.”

  “Good. It’s all settled then.” Patrice pulled a manila folder out from under the sofa and took out a form of a Prenuptial Agreement she’d downloaded from the internet and then modified on her computer. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing this. You being a lawyer and all, I’m sure you can make sure it sounds all proper and legal-like before I have my own attorney look it over. And as long as we’re both satisfied with it, we can stop at your office and have it executed on our way to apply for the marriage license and get the blood tests.”

  “You mean you want to do all this today?”

  The frozen statue look had returned to his face, and panic now etched his voice, as if realizing he was really on the hook. Time to reel him in. With deft fingers, she untied her halter top, letting it drop to her waist. Believe me, Rod, timing is everything in life. We only have three days. That’s just enough time to get married and crash Maggie’s charity ball as husband and wife, giving her all kinds of press she won’t like, and getting loads of publicity for ourselves as newlyweds. Just imagine what a famous lawyer that will make you.”

  And how much revenge I’ll have on the Maggie and the Clarkes.

  Rod started caressing her again, as if warming up to the idea, and nodded this time. “You know something, Patrice, I think you’ve just made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Of course she had. “Now that we’re partners, hot stuff, why don’t you tell me all about how those pictures of Taralynn Clarke really ended up in Nick’s paper? I may find some way to use that against Preston and Maggie, too. You can’t imagine how that sort of thing turns me on.”

  He laughed, settling deeper into the sofa. “Wait until you hear this one, babe. You’ll think it came straight out of a soap opera.”

  Chapter 64

  Maggie sat on her deck, facing the ocean breeze. She let the wind tangle her hair and snap at her face, barely feeling a thing. Preston had lied to her. No, she didn’t believe he’d actually conspired with Rod in some sleazy blackmail scheme. But he had known Rod intended to bypass clearing her name through proper channels and have her bar re-opened through unofficial means. He had lied. Plain and simple. He couldn’t wait to fully regain her trust before abusing it again.

  She’d been played for a fool. Again. Because she couldn’t seem to learn her lesson. She couldn’t seem to get it through her head that Preston really wasn’t the person she wanted him to be. If Ty-Ken’s honor had been at stake, he would have insisted the company’s name be cleared; properly. But, he didn’t care enough about her to go through proper channels with her bar. She mattered less to him than his business. He put his business on a higher level than he put her.

  And he was jogging across the beach, heading straight for her dock.

  Her first impulse was to take her lawn chair and chuck it at him. An impulse which, fortunately for him, she subdued almost from its inception. She would not show him any more interest than she would a single grain of sand on the shoreline.

  Less even.

  He jogged faster once he spotted her looking at him. Even so, she made no attempt to get up or to greet him. He was panting when he reached her, as if he’d circumnavigated the island or something. He just stared at her at first, breathing hard and not saying a word. Maggie didn’t look his way, just continued to stare straight ahead and gaze out at the ocean.

  “Okay, you’ve made your point,” he finally said. “You think I’m a low-life scum. That’s fine, but just so long as you understand I did not know about, nor participate in, some sick disgusting, illegal blackmail activity.”

  Maggie did not want to have this conversation, especially not right now. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of any way to avoid it. Whether she chucked her lawn chair at him or not, she had a feeling Preston wasn’t going anywhere. She finally brought her gaze to his and stared him in the eye. “You lied to me about how Rod got my bar back open. The point being, Preston, that you lied.”

  He tightened his jaw and looked out toward the beach, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I won’t argue that point with you. You’re right. I lied. And I allowed myself to think I was doing it for your own good.” He paused and placed his hand on the round side table in front of her. “And I really am sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “Of course I forgive you.” What more could she say? But she said the words flatly, without emotion, because she had so many emotions warring within her she felt numb.

  Preston started drumming his fingers in a slow rhythm on the table. “When I first came here asking for your help, you told me you would only help if I agreed to buy out your share of the company afterward. Do you remember?”

  Of course she remembered. She had made him strike that part of the bargain specifically to get him out of her life for good. She nodded her head, wishing now he’d look at her instead of staring out to sea. “I remember.”

  He turned away from the ocean and, as if reading her thoughts, and looked back at her. His grey eyes filled with sorrow and turmoil. “Do you still want me to buy you out when this thing is over?”

  She wanted to say no. She wanted to live in Neverland. She wanted to trust him.

  “Well?” he prodded.

  How could she ever trust him? If she believed him now, would she simply be burying her head in the sand? Could she really forget what he’d done? What he’d allowed her, knowingly or not, to become involved with? Or would resentment resurface later on? She couldn’t get past the lies and betrayals. Not even looking
into his hurt, yet hopeful, eyes.

  She nodded her head. “Yes,” she said. “I want you to buy me out when this mess is finally over with. And then I never want to see you again.”

  Chapter 65

  As Rod made the long drive the next day from Miami to Key West, he had a hell of a lot on his mind. Marriage. Firings. Patrice. Taralynn. Jane. Tracy. Just a whole hell of a lot of shit to keep track of.

  Suddenly, he found himself looking at the prospect of being married. And in the very near future. He’d almost puked when she’d first said the offending word. But then he’d heard those magic words “twenty million dollars.” And life suddenly became very sweet. Married or not. Almost made up for him being fired.

  Yes. That weighed on his mind also. Losing Preston as a client would have made it a lot harder to attract similar quality clients if dear, horny Patrice hadn’t come to his rescue. He’d sure get the last laugh on Preston and Maggie when he married into the McKenzie dynasty and started racking up business that way.

  He also had those Taralynn photos on his mind. Had been thinking about them ever since he’d opened the paper and then received that really irritating visit from his former client. Nick was damn lucky he’d darkened his face so he couldn’t be identified in those pictures. Unfortunately, as he’d suspected and Patrice had confirmed, people who knew him well would recognize his fucking tattoo. Damn! He was pissed about that. And pretty damn sure Preston had identified him in the photo the same way Patrice had.

  He didn’t blame Nick for the theft though. That ugly bitch Jane had pulled that off. No doubt about it, since her movie was also missing from his files. That was the thanks he got for giving the broad the best goddamn fuck of her life. His house broken into and his best movie ever, stolen.

  And what the hell could he do about it? Call the cops? Sure. Yeah. He’d just bet they’d love to hear all about how he filmed himself having sex with women without their knowledge or consent. Oh yes, and they’d undoubtedly enjoy hearing all about his blackmailing of a federal agent right along with it. He didn’t care that Jane had stolen her DVD, also. He’d gotten his use out of it already, and he had movies of him fucking a lot better looking women than her.

  Stealing his movie of Taralynn though. That pissed him off. He’d had big plans for that movie. Plans like reeling in the Clarkes as legal clients and getting some hush money from them in the meantime. Plans that Plain Jane the bitch had just ripped out from underneath him. He didn’t know what Nick had paid her for the pictures, but he’d be willing to bet he could have gotten twice the amount from old man Clarke to keep his little girl out of the newspaper.

  Nick had at least been smart enough to keep him unidentifiable though. And for that, he got points. For that, Rod would be willing to just let the whole thing go. Hell, it wasn’t like he was anxious to let Nick, Mr. Big-Time Nosy Newspaperman, know about his little hobby anyway. Right now, all Nick knew was Rod and Taralynn had made a little movie together, and Jane had stolen it. Probably in a jealous snit. No need to get Nick thinking Taralynn was just one of hundreds, or that there was some sort of scandal to be unearthed. That would end his legal career real damn quick.

  And, since Nick had been smart enough to keep his face out of the paper, he’d undoubtedly been smart enough to keep his name out of it, too. And that meant Tracy wouldn’t know he’d been sexually involved with another woman in the last couple of weeks. He was pretty sure she was ditzy enough not to notice the tattoo. But, just in case Preston and Maggie had gone blabbing anything to her, he’d booked an appointment to get the tattoo removed, something he should have done years ago anyway, and then wrapped his hand in a gauze bandage, as though it’d been injured. He was prepared to fully deny everything.

  Maggie had probably also told Tracy about his attempted kiss by now, too, but he could explain that away easily enough. Maybe say it was an attempt to congratulate her on the victory with her bar, and she’d taken it the wrong way, or something like that. The important thing was, it was a simple attempted kiss, and he could figure out a way to explain it.

  Despite his recent problems with Maggie and Preston, reeling Tracy in should still be possible. After all, it wasn’t like she had good-looking, wealthy, sexual powerhouses lined up at her door asking her to marry them. And reeling in her good friend Tracy would be one last slice of revenge on Maggie the Bitch.

  He also figured he’d given Tracy enough time now since his proposal, letting her stew and wait around to hear back from him, so she would be putty in his hands when he finally came to hear her answer. With any luck, she’d be putty enough to consummate the relationship right away, before she found out he was about to get married to Patrice and get his hands on twenty million of her dollars.

  He wondered then if the prospect of him being married to Patrice for a year or two in exchange for twenty million dollars might appeal to Tracy. Hell, it wasn’t like she had any money of her own. Carrying on an affair with him while he stayed married to Patrice long enough to collect some dough might be something she’d consider. Especially if he promised to divorce Patrice and marry her as soon as a socially acceptable length of time had passed.

  Sure. Her feelings might be a little bit miffed at first, but knowing he really loved her, and not Patrice, and knowing her children would benefit from the money, that should be enough for her to accept the situation. And old Henry Tyler would be left holding his heart in his hands while the woman he loved dumped him for a married man. That little victory would be sweet indeed.

  The idea of having Patrice as a wife and Tracy as a mistress germinated in his brain. And he liked it. Might be fun for a year or two. Then, of course, he’d be free to resume his bachelor ways as soon as the arrangement got boring.

  Rod thought about calling Tracy first, but then decided he wanted to keep her in suspense right up to the very last minute. Before long, he found himself parked down the street from her house, going over his plan one last time. He’d chosen this moment carefully. Waited until he saw her leave with the girls to take them to school, or wherever they went, and then come back home alone. He intended to celebrate their supposed upcoming nuptials by tearing off her clothes.

  After she’d been back inside her house for a few minutes, he got out of his car and strolled down the road and across the street to her front porch, then knocked on the door. He was almost tongue-tied when she answered it. She had her gorgeous blonde hair swept up off her neck, and her killer bod in the reddest, hottest string bikini he’d ever seen. His dick got hard at first sight.

  “Damn.” He whistled. “You could make Aphrodite herself green with envy.”

  She frowned at him. “Who?”

  “Never mind, babe. We’ve got more important things to talk about.”

  She frowned again and backed away from the door. “Rod. I’m, uh, surprised to see you.”

  His pulse quickened. Had he waited too long? “I know. I know. I guess I did keep you hanging out on a limb for a few days there, and I apologize for that.” He paused half a second and added, “Really.”

  He stepped inside the door to her house. Poor thing was in such a state of shock she’d forgotten to ask him in. “Nice place,” he said, although in reality, his main thought about her house was she’d have to get a new one before he could even risk having an affair with her. Once he became the celebrity husband of Patrice McKenzie, there’d be no telling how many photographers would start stalking him. Then he wondered which direction her bedroom was in.

  “Dealing with all of Preston’s legal problems has left me really busy,” he said. “As I’m sure you can imagine. In fact…” He cleared his throat, wondering just how much of Preston’s bull shit, paranoid theory she’d heard already. “I’m afraid the whole situation’s gotten so stressful for Preston the poor guy’s starting to wig out on me. I guess someone saw me in a public place talking to Taralynn Clarke and that automatically makes me in league with her. Hell, the truth of the matter is, I was just trying to do a little peace-
making. You know, negotiate some sort of settlement before things got any uglier.” That sounded good. Too bad he had hadn’t thought of that line before he had his ambush attack from Preston.

  Rod paused and tried to size up what was going on inside her pretty head. Figure out how well she was buying his story. He thought he saw surprise light up and flicker in her eyes. And maybe, was it, concern? Perfect. “But that’s fine.” He took a chance and turned to the right of her entrance way, and found himself in her living room. It had a couch. That would do. “Preston needs some time to calm down and think rationally, and I really wanted a little down time to spend with you anyway. But anyhow, that’s why it took me so long to get back to you. Believe me, I did not forget I asked you to marry me.”

  “Really?” Tracy started to laugh.

  Probably some over-reaction to the great relief she felt. Time to give her the rest of the story now, while she was still ready to hear it. “There’s just one thing though. I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to get married right away. There’s something important I have to do first.”

  Tracy stopped laughing, but a huge smile was still on her face. “What do you have to do, Rod?”

  He sucked back a deep breath, getting ready to spew whatever bullshit needed to be shoveled out. He’d waited long enough to fuck her, and he loved the way her great big tits filled out that bikini of hers. Those tits would be his to suckle on before he left. Even though he was about to tell her he was going to marry another woman first. And, of course, the very sympathetic reason he’d just thought of why.

  “You know Maggie’s Aunt Patrice?” he asked.

  “Yeah. What about her?”