by Calista Fox
“Holy shit!” I cried out. It was so good. Too good. The pulsing reverberated deep, prolonging the release.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.” He withdrew his fingers and brushed away my hand. While I still reeled from the scorching climax, his mouth covered me. His lips swept along my pussy lips, and then his tongue fluttered over that highly sensitive knot of nerves.
I let out a breathy moan. I’d never felt anything so exquisite. He went at it with gusto, teasing my clit with the tip of his tongue before tugging gently on my slick folds with his mouth, then returning to the flicking and suckling that made me want to cry from the pleasure he evoked. I was still in the throes of one orgasm and felt another one coming on.
My body trembled and my sharp whimpers filled the cavernous room.
“That’s it,” he whispered against my clit. “You’re dripping wet. And you taste so damn good.”
I flushed.
His tongue swirled around my opening, pressing in.
“Oh, God, Dane.” My hands fisted around the satin material of the quilt. “Christ. I’m going to come again.”
“Yes,” he all but growled. “Come for me, baby.”
He slid two fingers in and pumped vigorously. His tongue worked skillfully, fluttering over my clit. He added a third finger and thrust deep.
I lost it completely, calling out as I shattered once more. Every fiber of my being, every nerve ending, igniting.
“Dane!” It was all so overwhelming. All-consuming. So incredibly delicious, I was obsessed by how intensely he made me come, how wildly passionate he made me when I’d never once considered myself the type.
He let me ride this release out, but his labored breath on my pussy kept my insides blazing.
I had no idea how much time passed before I felt his gaze on my face. My heavy lids reluctantly opened. He wore a serious expression, though it held desire and white-hot need.
In his seductive voice, he asked, “Are you ready to give me everything I want from you?”
I stared at him for endless seconds, my breathing coming in sharp pulls.
I had not expected the gauntlet he’d thrown down.
“Ari.”
He clearly was not a man to let any opportunity slip through his fingers.
Though I was still breathy and lost in a lust-induced haze, I said, “We’re even with Kyle.” Since I’d let Dane go down on me—something that was hugely personal in my book. And I’d followed his other request, so we were more than even. “Yes, I am ready. I refuse to be circumvented, though. You have to give in return. I want to know what’s going on at the Lux. With you.”
I didn’t let him off the hook, somehow feeling I had enough power at the moment. He was still hard, still had lust and need raging in his eyes.
“I’m not accustomed to bargaining,” he said, not at all pleased.
“I can believe that. But there’s too much at stake for me to be lax about this. The things you’ve already done to me … the way you make me feel … this is all too much to not ask for something in exchange. To not know exactly who I’m involved with—what I’m involved in.”
He glared unyieldingly. “You might not like all the answers.”
“Maybe not. But I still need them.”
“There’s something I have to deal with right now. It’s urgent.”
“I gathered that.”
Neither of us moved, just stared at each other. Deeply disturbed by the torment suddenly eating at him, I reached out a hand and smoothed the crinkle between his brows. Didn’t seem to help much. I could see his mind churned with what appeared to be ominous thoughts, if the hooded look in his eyes was any indication.
It was a bit insane how easily he shifted gears. But when you had so much riding on a multibillion-dollar venture and whatever the hell was transpiring between us, I supposed that was natural.
Finally, he stood and handed over my clothing. I dressed quickly, which was no easy feat because I felt liquefied from the explosive climaxes.
“So, what’s happened?” I asked, thinking of the call he’d taken.
“Beavers chewed through the security wire on the north end, by the streams.”
My brow crooked. “Beavers?”
“We’ve lost camera monitoring capability throughout the property. We have to rewire.”
“That sounds painful. At least it’s not an infestation of rattlesnakes and scorpions.” I shuddered.
“Not a fan, I see.”
“I’m terrified of both. Like, nightmare terrified.”
“We don’t really have that problem this far north.”
“I know. That’s one of the reasons I like it here.”
“Anyway, this will be an extensive undertaking. But a necessary one.” He shook his head and looked a little lost in thought … that dark place in his mind where he sometimes went.
“Dane?” I had no idea what else to say, but—
A quick rap on the door startled me. I jumped.
Dane broke free of his trance. He put the phone in his pocket and buttoned his shirt. Then he stuffed the hem into the waist of his pants and held out his hand. “Come on.”
I gazed at the hand that had brought me so much pleasure just minutes before. At this point, it made no sense to deliberate over the intimate gesture. But I did. Because there was something ominous in his eyes, similar to when we’d been in the bar and I’d turned to find him staring at me after Kyle had flirted.
I couldn’t decipher the look. Obviously, I had no idea what sparked it. But I felt a peculiar warning that caused my hesitation.
Dane said, “I’ll have Amano escort you to your car.”
The corners of my mouth dipped. “I can find my way out of the hotel. I’ve been doing it for a week now.”
“Please cooperate.” He kissed me again, the taste of my arousal on his lips and tongue.
When he pulled away, I let him guide me to the door with a hand on the small of my back. As with every other touch from him, I found I perilously liked how it felt. Protective and possessive, coming from a man such as Dane Bax.
We stepped into the hallway and I was surprised to discover the mammoth dark-haired, stoic Chief of Security standing outside my door.
“Take Miss DeMille downstairs.”
“Of course.”
Dane had gone from seductive to troubled to in charge in less than two minutes. He was wildly sexy in all iterations.
“Please,” Amano said as he gestured for me to precede him down the wide marbled corridor to the elevators. I wrenched my gaze from Dane.
“I prefer the stairwell, if you don’t mind.” With all the sampling of decadent food I partook of every day at the Lux, I needed all the exercise I could squeeze in.
Halfway to the door at the end of the hall, outside of Dane’s office suite, I glanced back. He remained standing in the middle of the corridor, focused on me. Ethan stepped out of the elevator at the opposite end of the floor. He wore a grim expression.
Dane’s intensity was one thing. The fact that they were both agitated was something altogether different.
What the hell was going on?
* * *
The next morning, I was alternately sifting through catalogs and surfing the Web for more ideas when Dane’s executive administrative assistant, Molly, stopped in. She let me know he’d be off-property for the next couple of days.
I found it interesting that he hadn’t called or texted with the news himself. Then I realized he was the one who needed space this time. He had to concede that I was right—that I deserved to know more about him and his troubles at the resort. Why he and Ethan were always so locked in deep discussion.
And, for that matter, I wondered if it had been Ethan on the phone—the angry-ring call. Did he have some sort of vested interest in 10,000 Lux?
Most important, would Dane give me the answers I required?
The following days I spent mostly in interviews—and praying like hell I wouldn�
��t hear from my mother again, because I was seriously stressing over the money I’d given her. Thank God I had a job to cover forthcoming bills.
I did my best to focus solely on my hiring objectives. There were plenty of viable candidates from whom to choose, the vast majority of them coming from prestigious Phoenix and Scottsdale resorts, others from California, Florida, and even New York. I was hugely relieved to be on the cover of Southwest Weddings magazine this quarter, because it gave me instant credibility. I could see from many of the applicants that they hadn’t expected me to be so young.
That I came from a strictly-wedding background didn’t help matters, either, when my applicants boasted of the budgets and events they worked with or managed. But a large percent of them followed industry news and were not only impressed by my professional designations but also that I was on a list of preferred planners and had orchestrated two illustrious weddings, in addition to my other upper-echelon ones.
I actually found it a relief in one respect that Dane was absent from the Lux. I wasn’t looking for him around every corner, nor did I have to worry if anyone saw us together and speculated whether something was going on between us. I suspected it was more and more difficult for us to hide our attraction because it was so all-consuming. Even my dad had caught on. That was saying something.
Conversely, I missed Dane like crazy. A part of me also considered if he’d done it on purpose—disappeared for a spell with no connection just to make me grind over him and transition from a demanding to know things before we proceed stance to a fuck not knowing anything, just let me have at him one.
I took him for the strategic type, and it was a good possibility I was correct with my take on the current situation.
Another thing I found interesting was the way Amano loitered about. Sitting outside my office in one of the plush chairs that accompanied the long glass-topped decorative tables, usually on his iPad or phone. Taking his coffee break at the same time I did. Appearing in the courtyard when I met other executives there instead of on the fourth floor. He greeted me out front in the morning and walked me out to the valet in the evenings. No matter how late I stayed.
Did I have a bodyguard now?
And … why would I need one?
Just a comfort level for Dane? Part of protecting his territory?
Granted, that seemed just like him. So I didn’t balk or tell Amano—an extremely professional and nice man, despite the scare factor that came with his six-foot-six-inch stature and the I could kill King Kong with my bare hands disposition—that I didn’t need a shadow.
Though I had a feeling Kyle would take one look at him and head for the hills, never to contact me again.
That could be another Dane tactic. He operated in varying degrees I simply couldn’t keep up with.
On Wednesday afternoon, I received a call I wasn’t the least bit interested in taking.
Since I hadn’t yet hired my own assistant, Molly announced over the speakerphone, “Kathryn DeMille on line three.”
I stared at the handset, debating my options. But if I ignored her, she’d only show up at my townhome. She’d already proven that.
I snatched up the phone. “Hello, Mother.”
“Aria Lynne, darling.”
The double suck-up. I rolled my eyes.
She said, “I just saw the fabulous spread on the executive team of 10,000 Lux, and there was my little girl, front and center. My, oh, my, how you’ve climbed the corporate ladder. So quickly. I’ve told all my friends. They’re so impressed I have such a successful daughter.”
I reached for my pen and absently tapped the end on the blotter before me. I had a bad feeling about this call. My mother’s sudden interest in me did not bode well for any part of my life.
God forbid she should ever discover I was involved with Dane. She’d latch on to that like a dog with a bone, given his social and financial status. When it came to the two of them, I was definitely of the never the twain shall meet mentality.
“I’m in the middle of work at the moment,” I said, “so if we can talk la—”
“Well, I was just thinking,” she interjected. “A trip to New York would be so wonderful this time of year. All the fall colors and festivities. And I’ve never been to Manhattan.…”
I felt the knife twist. “Why would you be going to New York?”
“To meet with agents, of course. For my book.”
I had to curb my temper. “I thought we’d agreed that was over.”
“For five thousand dollars?” She made a soft tsking sound. “Aria Lynne, you are a senior executive at 10,000 Lux and you’re going to let your mother suffer through her last pennies?”
Really?
I wanted to scream. Cry. Nothing would ever be enough for this woman!
And now that my name was showing up in papers and magazines, she wanted to swoop in and pretend to be the doting mother she’d never once been?
I didn’t know what to make of her. I didn’t know what to do with her. After I’d turned eighteen and no longer had to legally spend any time with her, I’d stayed in Sedona with my dad, not venturing to Scottsdale to visit her. She hadn’t complained, nor had she traveled up the hill to see me. Birthday gifts from her? Nonexistent. College graduation congrats? Not a peep.
She’d cut me off long ago, clearly finding no value in our association.
But now that it seemed I had some relevance in the world—a little more clout and a little more money—who was beating down my door?
I was furious that she’d do this to me. I’d moved past the drama. The trauma. Everything.
Yet here she was, suddenly threatening my dad’s reputation and perhaps even his livelihood. Not to mention hinting at a scandal that could damage my image and career.
I abandoned the tapping of the pen and demanded, “What is it that you want, Mother?”
“Well, I’ve been watching a lot of Oprah lately—I would just love to be on her show—and it seems that a book such as mine could land me an advance somewhere in the hundred-thousand-dollar range.”
My heart nearly stopped. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
“But you must be making six figures at 10,000 Lux. Correct? I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
Fury tore through me. “I always knew you were a piece of work, Mother, but this is downright evil. If you think for one minute—”
“I didn’t tell you this before, but I’ve written the first three chapters already. I started off with some of the bigger names, just to make things juicy right off the bat.”
My stomach roiled.
“Five thousand a month would be oh-so helpful, darling.” Her tone was sugary sweet.
She was insane! Maybe all that Botox had contaminated her brain.
“Think about it, Aria Lynne. I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead. I stared at the receiver for endless moments, my mind racing. What in the hell was I going to do with her?
chapter 13
I didn’t get much sleep that night and was monumentally relieved the next day when Mr. Mysterious texted to take my mind off my mother. I was in the middle of a meeting with PR, discussing initial guest lists for the myriad pre-launch festivities. The VIPs astounded me, and we hadn’t even yet touched on those invited to the grand opening.
Amano will pick you up at seven tonight.
I had no idea what compelled me to be sassy—it wasn’t exactly advisable with this man—but I typed: I’m not dating Amano. Pick me up yourself. Maybe I was just that desperate to see him.
I have business.
I frowned. Wished he could see it. I replied: Is this a professional request?
You want answers, don’t you?
My heart picked up a few extra beats. Had I really gotten through to him?
Someone will have to drive me home since I have to be in the office in the morning.
So do I. Bring a change of clothes.
I sucked in a breath. All eyes at the conferen
ce table snapped in my direction.
A blush crept up my neck. Covering my faux pas, I said, “Sorry. A vendor just confirmed the garland I want is available.”
“I swear you have the coolest job here,” Lacy Jackson said. She was head of Food and Beverage.
“For me, yes,” I concurred. “But PR hobnobs with society types at galas. Marketing is being wooed by every Southwest athletic team for joint ventures, and you get to sample food and expensive wines and liqueurs all day long.”
“So true.” She beamed. “It’s not a position I’d trade for all the chocolate made from Venezuela cacao pods in the world.”
“And companies send it to you in bricks, it seems,” said Carter Moore, the VP of Marketing.
They all went off on a dark-chocolate and red-wine tangent and I stole another glance at my phone.
I’m waiting.
I smirked, feeling his impatience.
Then typed, Yes.
* * *
Thank God I’d reserved the afternoon for ordering decoration samples. Although this was a critical part of the launch—everything had to look just right and be as magnificent as the Lux itself—I wasn’t making any sort of concrete decisions at the moment. Just examining and contemplating options.
Had I needed to focus on the budget or selecting employees from the first round of interviews, I would have been screwed. I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering to Dane and whatever he had planned for the evening.
Well. I had a fairly good idea of the latter. He’d told me to pack clothes, after all.
I left the office at five and, once home, took a shower and changed into a red dress I thought he might like. I did my hair and makeup. Debated on what to bring by way of sleepwear, though I suspected it was a clothing-optional sort of evening. I packed yoga pants and a tank top. Added all the necessities for doing myself up in the morning. Then grabbed a black suit and a white buttoned shirt from the closet. I was ready when Amano knocked on the door.
Thankfully, he was the silent, alert type who didn’t bother with small talk. He seemed to grasp that was perfectly acceptable to me and didn’t even try to engage beyond the polite, “Good evening, Miss DeMille.”