Michelle met her eyes from her superior height, a frown between her pale brows. She tenderly held Sasha’s elbows in her palms, pulling her close. “If there’s anything wrong, you know you can tell me.”
But why would I? I’ve been alone and I’ll always be alone. “I know,” Sasha said, fighting to keep the shaky smile on her face.
“Good.” Michelle didn’t seem convinced but she lessened the intensity of her gaze. “Come say hi to Gracie. You know my wife misses having you to talk horseflesh with.”
Then the vet drew her along to talk with her wife, another tall beauty who Sasha felt privileged to know. As she talked with Michelle and Gracie, she suddenly became aware that Damien had entered the room. She wasn’t sure how she knew it but abruptly, the very air felt different, more charged. She raised her head, only half listening to the conversation between Michelle and her wife while her eyes searched for Damien in the crowd. It wasn’t long before she found him.
Her breath left her in a rush. He looked powerful and heart-stoppingly gorgeous in a tailored black suit and a pale blue tie that perfectly matched his eyes. His neatly cut blond hair shimmered under the lights as he bent his head to talk with a woman Sasha didn’t recognize. She curled her fingers, overcome with the sudden need to touch him.
“Are you even listening, Sasha?”
She jerked her attention back to the conversion and immediately felt Michelle’s amused gaze on her. Gracie shook her head, turning to look and see what had captured Sasha’s attention so completely.
“Oh, him.” Gracie grinned wickedly. “I think every straight woman in here has fantasized about him at one time or another.”
“And some not so straight,” Michelle teased, causing her wife to blush prettily.
As Michelle and Gracie teased each other, Sasha looked around and realized that what Gracie had said was true. There were more than a few women who were looking at Damien like he was the last piece of fried chicken at the country buffet. She’d always known he was an attractive man. And she’d had her own share of fantasies about him before they started sleeping together. Now as she watched the subtle and not-so-subtle yearning of many women around him, their hot gazes blasted his way, she felt the unfamiliar mantle of jealousy settle over her. She stirred, uncomfortable with the feeling.
“Are you okay?” Michelle looked at her with concern.
She tore her eyes away from her lover. “I’m fine, just...”
“Are you one of those in lust with him, too?” Gracie asked, her smile teasing.
The veterinarian’s wife glanced over at Damien who suddenly looked up and caught Sasha’s eyes. She blushed, the heat moving swiftly up her neck and into her cheeks. She swore that his eyes dipped to her mouth, then lower. They widened slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t have been able to tell but she saw him go completely still as he looked at her neck, gaze settling at her throat before rising slowly to her eyes. He said something to the woman he was talking with and then began making his way toward Sasha.
She looked away from him, feeling the lashing heat of his regard all over her body, but especially on her neck. She didn’t have to look at him approach to know that he was being stopped at nearly every turn, one person then two impeding his progress to thank him, to question him, to adore him.
Gracie and Michelle exchanged a look. Then Michelle opened her mouth. “The better question would be, is he in lust with you?” She glanced over Sasha’s shoulder with a look of speculation on her face.
Sasha blushed again. “That question is—”
“Good evening, Sasha.” Damien’s voice came from just behind her, deep and resonant.
She trembled, kept her eyes open with a force of will as she felt his heat close behind her. She wanted to sink back into him. Feel his hands on her throat. Submit to him. Kiss him.
Instead, Sasha turned. “Damien.” She smiled, deliberately casual. But did not touch him.
Her boss greeted Michelle and Gracie with one of his most charming smiles while the women watched the byplay between him and Sasha like they were at the theater and sitting in their box seats. She felt Damien’s eyes on her throat again. Sasha surreptitiously licked her lips.
“Sasha, you look lovely as usual,” Damien said.
He seemed to use talking to her as an excuse to lick her with his eyes. The heat of his gaze went straight between her legs. Then, as if unable to help himself, he lightly touched her elbow. His lashes flickered briefly at the jolt of heat that passed between them. Then he was all casual posture and smiles, asking Michelle and Gracie about their puppy and their newborn son.
Michelle, who had shown pictures of the baby around the stables a few days before, clutched her wife’s arm and began a soliloquy on the unparalleled beauty of their new baby. Sasha exchanged a smile with Gracie, who had actually carried the child, a product of Michelle’s egg and the offering of a sperm donor.
Damien’s warmth at Sasha’s side was damn near paralyzing. She felt as if she was staring at him like an infatuated fool, her skin aware of every breath he took, every flicker of his lashes. She cleared her throat and excused herself from the conversation before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. He looked briefly at her with a wolfish smile, then turned back to the two women.
Sasha slipped through the crowd, stopping to talk with many of the other jockeys she hadn’t had the chance to connect with outside of work in the days since her brother made an appearance. They weren’t cold to her as expected, most greeting her with slaps on the back or appreciative glances at her outfit. Their welcome sparked tears in her eyes, made her heart fist tightly in her chest. The only person who didn’t seem at all happy to see her was Vincent Frazier. His pale gray eyes tore across her body like an angry chainsaw.
Not long after she’d rejected his offer to go out on a date, she’d walked in on him telling two other men what a bitch she was, how she was a talentless jockey who whored out her body to stay on at Taylor Stables. Sasha had been furious. Too angry to guard her tongue, she stormed into the paddock and gave him her iciest stare. Told the other men that Vincent was just angry because he wasn’t man enough to be allowed the privilege of getting into her pants. And that he was barely jockey enough to hold onto his job at the stables. If he wanted to compare talents all they had to do was look at his record of success compared to hers. She had more wins. She was more consistent. With the most disdain she could put into her voice, she had stared at him as if he was nothing.
“Maybe you’re the one whoring yourself out to stay on at Taylor Stables,” Sasha had said. Then she walked away, leaving Vincent sputtering curses while his two companions laughed.
Sasha had a feeling he’d never forgiven her for that day. She mentally shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it now. He hated her from the moment she refused him. She wasn’t about to apologize since he was the one who made it more than something between the two of them, rallying the other jockeys to question her abilities and professionalism when she had more to offer Taylor Stables by way of talent and sheer hard work than he did. Asshole.
“That’s a mean look you got there.” Linc appeared out of the crowd with a big smile on his face.
He had cleaned up well and now wore slacks, a buttoned-down shirt, and a blazer. He had cut his hair between now and the last time that Sasha had seen him. As he hugged her, she was enveloped in a pleasant yet subtle aftershave. The clothes fit him well, as did the crisp citrus scent. With his fresh haircut, clothes, and warm smile, he looked comfortable indeed among the trappings of the country club set.
“This mean look is for you, Linc. I can’t believe you came to this party looking prettier than me,” she teased, brushing a hand across the lapels of his blazer. “Very nice.”
He laughed. “Keep saying things like that and I’ll have to go wrestle a bull just to prove my manliness.”
“The bull wouldn’t stand a chance.” Sasha grinned up at him, enjoying their easy camaraderie.
“Ha! You pu
sh me, you pull me.” He smiled back her. “You don’t look too bad yourself, by the way. I bet a lot of guys expected you to show up here in riding boots and a flannel shirt.”
She waved dismissively. “Even I know that’s not appropriate attire. The boots would chafe my knees.”
They shared another laugh then Linc grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. He passed one to her.
“I don’t think we officially toasted to your win at the Derby, Sasha.” He raised his glass. “You did a fine job out there and made us all very proud.”
Sasha flushed with pleasure at the unexpected toast and raised her glass. “Thank you, Linc. This means a lot to me.” She sipped the sparkling wine, fighting a sneeze at the effervescent bubbles.
“I would have made a much more public scene over multiple pitchers of beer but you’ve been scarce lately.”
Sadness touched the corners of her mouth. “I know. One day, I hope things get better. I love my Taylor Stables family.”
“And we love you, too. Sasha.” He lowered the champagne flute from his lips. “I’m hoping you’ll see your way through this, whatever it is, or at least ask for help from someone who will know what to do for you.”
Tears burned her eyes. She blinked against them, looked away from Linc’s earnest face. “Thank you.” She swallowed. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, Linc. You’ve made working here one of the best experiences of my life.”
“Why does that make me think you’ve met too many not so good people?”
She shrugged. “Life can be a run of the gauntlet at times.”
He winced, pulled her to him in a one-handed hug. “Chin up, girl.”
“Is this a private love-fest or can anyone join in?” Gabe, another of the jockeys from the stables sidled up to them, a nearly full tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
“There’s always enough love for you, Gabe.” Sasha squeezed the shorter man’s shoulders and grinned, pushing aside the sadness and pain that Linc’s words had brought up. “Is that drink for me? I could use something a little stronger.”
“Get your own,” he said with a smile and held his drink above his head which put it directly in her reach. “The line for the bar is getting crazy.”
“Sounds like a typical line for the ladies’ room,” she said. “Speaking of which, I have to go make room for all this free booze.” Sasha put down her champagne on a nearby table.
“What a real lady!” Gabe said with a guffaw.
“What would you know about a real lady?” she threw over her shoulder as she walked away toward the bathrooms.
The men laughed as she continued out the door and into the hallway toward the opulent restrooms she remembered seeing signs for on her way in. As she moved down the hallway and through the thinning crowd, she thought she heard someone call her name. Sasha turned, but there was no one. She made a left into the narrow hallway for the bathrooms.
“You look like a wet dream in that dress.”
She stopped at the sound of Damien’s voice. Sasha turned and watched him walk toward her in the hallway. His eyes were hot and predatory.
“But that’s nothing compared to what this makes me want to do to you.” He touched the collar around her neck, black leather and with a silver buckle that matched the ones on her shoes.
Sasha shivered at his touch, his fingers stroking her neck then slipping under the warm leather as if under panties, an intimate caress that made wetness instantly coat her underwear.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice gravelly and hot.
“Wherever you want.”
That was the only answer to the real question burning in his electric blue eyes. “Good.” His eyes flickered down to her mouth and he tilted his head down as if to kiss her. Then suddenly, he stopped himself. “Follow me.”
He took her somewhere. Sasha didn’t know where, she couldn’t retrace her steps if someone paid her to. All she knew was that one moment, they were in the hallway leading to the bathrooms and an office marked “Private,” and the next, Damien was closing a door behind them, twisting the lock home.
“Come to me.” His voice was low in his chest, a powerful rumble that drew her feet toward him before she even thought to obey his command.
He hooked his finger in the o-ring at the front of the collar. “Do you know what this means?”
“Yes.” At his intent look, the look that saw through to very heart, soul, and blood of her, she licked her lips and looked away.
“Do you?” His fingers curled in the ring even more, tugged it.
“No,” she said softly in confession. “I just wanted to please you.”
“Oh, God!” He released a hot breath, pulled her closer with the ring, the soft leather digging into her neck. “You always please me,” he said. “That’s one thing you never have to worry about.” He groaned like a man in pain, fingers curling under the collar, digging into her skin. “You please me like no one else in the world.” He groaned again. “Turn around.”
She didn’t turn fast enough because he spun her around, shoved her belly and cheek into the wall. Then his hands were dragging up her dress. Cool air brushed her bare thighs, her ass as he revealed her to his gaze. He hissed, hands on her ass on her sex that she’d left uncovered for him. Damien shoved her thighs apart. Tilted her ass up, shoved her chest even more into the wall. Then she heard nothing. Felt nothing. Just his eyes on her, the A/C blowing cool against her dripping sex. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her nipples tightened against the dress. Sasha curled her fingers into her palms.
“Fucking beautiful,” he grated. “Fucking...”
He shoved his cock into her. She gasped at the suddenness of it, his thick manhood inside her clutching cleft. But she was ready for him, wet and wanting. Sasha pushed out her ass even more, tightening her pussy around him, swallowing him. She stretched her hands high up on the wall, using it for leverage as she shoved back onto his cock, eager for him. Her womb throbbed. Her pussy trickled. Sasha gasped with her desire as he moved inside her. His cock was heavy and thick, knocking at the walls of her dripping wet pussy while the breath came harshly between his teeth.
“Oh....”
Damien’s fingers settled on her clit. He massaged it, stroked it as he slammed into her. Pleasure snapped hot and fast inside her, swallowing her in wave after wave of heat. She bit her lips to stop herself from crying out his name, from crying out in pleasure.
He grabbed her hair, twisted it up and off her neck so he could look at the collar as he fucked her. She dipped her head, gasping as he pounded inside her, his grip fast in her hair. The pain fed her pleasure. Sent it shivering under her skin, brought prickles of sweat under the dress, at the top of her lip, down the center of her back.
The sound of their lust lifted her even closer to her release, the liquid fuck of his cock in her pussy, his almost animalistic grunts, her whimpers of pleasure. She bit her lips harder but couldn’t stop the continuous streams of “oh oh oh oh” from falling from her mouth. Her skin was on fire and she was so full of him. She was enfolded in pleasure, and then ripped apart. The release barreled closer and closer. Sasha clawed at the wall. A scream rose in her throat but Damien’s hand slammed over her mouth. Her hair tumbled down her damp neck as he released his grip. Her body imploded with a muffled scream.
And then Damien was jerking against her, his passion jetting inside her pussy, his teeth sinking hard into her shoulder. They trembled together as Sasha braced herself against the walls. Her legs trembled, her pussy twitched around him. Their breaths came quickly in the small room.
“Fuck...” Damien breathed against her skin. Then he pulled back, withdrew his still thick cock from her. “That wasn’t quite what I meant to happen,” he said breathlessly.
The sound of rustling cloth came from behind Sasha, and then Damien’s hand was between her legs. A cloth. He was cleaning her. She blushed, the heat moving in a scorching tide over her face, and tried to step away. But
he held her still until he was finished. He pulled down her dress, kissed the back of her neck and stepped back.
When she turned he had his handkerchief wadded up in his hand. Aside from the missing cloth in the pocket of his blazer, he looked as before. Beautiful and perfect. Pants zipped up. Every hair in place. Sasha drew a trembling breath, pressed her palms to her hot cheeks as her riotous body tried its best to settle down. She wished she could get herself together so easily.
Before she could say anything, he kissed her mouth. A tender press of lips against hers that invited her closer. Sasha twined her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him, melting beneath the tender assault on her senses that with another man might seem completely backward for what they had just done. But with Damien, it was perfection. A tenderness to reinforce the passion they shared together. A fierce fire, then the hazy smoke of their desire.
Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels Page 55