by Larkin Rose
“I don’t read that shit. You know that.” Eve stepped into a pair of cream pumps, fastened the inch-wide buckle around her ankle, and chose not to comment on the hottie in question.
Hot didn’t begin to describe it.
“Well, you should. Might find something interesting happening around here.” Khandi drew the length of the roll-up as far as her arm would allow, then started tugging the candy into her mouth with her tongue.
“I’m sure you’ll bend heaven and hell to notify me of some earth-shattering news.”
“Don’t count on it. I saw the way your mouth watered over that fresh piece of meat today. If you could have, you would have fucked her where she stood,” Khandi managed to mumble around the wad of goo. “Some things are better left untold. Especially if it gets my boss laid.”
Eve picked up her matching clutch and checked her image in the mirror. “What does any of this have to do with…what were we talking about, a magazine? Or was it the hottie?”
“Both, actually.” Khandi rolled onto her stomach, her ankles locking in the air behind her.
“You’re confusing me. And for the love of kittens, stop eating that crap. I bet your dentist loves you for paying half his mortgage.” Eve snatched up the hotel keycard and started for the door. “And stop watching porn on my TV. The thought of you masturbating in my bed grosses me out.”
“Why? That’s what you’ll be doing later when your might-be-sexy, might-not-be, Lexi purrs you into an orgasm. Oh, God, Lexxxxiiiiii!” Khandi sang, then broke into hysterical laughter as Eve let herself out of the suite and slammed the door.
She stomped toward the elevator, questioning her morals for sharing facts about Lexi with that gum-chewing, roll-up-addicted witch of an assistant.
Eve pressed the Down button and waited, wondering what Lexi was doing right now. Somewhere in this very city, she lived and breathed. She could be having dinner with her parents, or tearing up a dance floor with a date. She could be fucking someone.
The thought chilled her and she tapped her foot impatiently. How could she be jealous of a voice? Sure, the voice was connected to a real person, but not anyone Eve would ever meet in person. What was wrong with her? She was seriously addicted to a fucking sex operator. It was disturbing, yet just as Khandi said—it would be to Lexi’s voice she would crawl after this dreaded dinner with Zara was over.
And speaking of the hottie, Jodi, what had been up with her? She’d acted weird, almost as if she recognized Eve. That wasn’t a hard assumption, seeing as her face was pretty well known in the fashion world. However, the woman didn’t strike her as fashion-obsessed. Well, minus the suave way her clothing had adorned that tight body. Besides the natural way she dressed herself and misbehaved with her boss, she looked completely out of her element.
Eve wanted to misbehave with her, wanted to open herself wide, wanted to touch herself while Jodi watched, wanted to soak in the sight of Jodi soaking in the sight of her fucking herself. She wanted Jodi to fall on her naked flesh, wanted Jodi’s weight crushing her, dominating her, taking and claiming her in every way a woman could.
The elevator door opened and Eve rushed inside, anxious to get Zara out of her hair for the night so she could get back to her suite, back to her bed, back to her phone. To Lexi.
She licked her lips as that voice cluttered her thoughts. Lexi would be able to take away the growly aftereffects that would surely be present after this damn meet-and-greet with Zara was complete. A shudder ran through her as she recalled their night together, naked, sweaty, Eve unsure and way out of her element in the hands of a femme. Her flight home had been quiet, to Khandi’s dislike, pondering her sanity, and missing rough, butch hands.
It had taken her barely twenty-four hours after arriving home to find a willing partner—a willing butch—and she’d fucked her like it was her last three hours alive. God, it’d been so long since she’d felt the power of a tight female between her thighs, bucking into her, her body a bundle of muscles as Eve thrashed against her. She’d needed strong hands, athletic backs, and powerful legs to level her off her feet, to make her forget the soft hands that had traveled over her body.
Her pussy heated as she recalled the butch fucking her standing up, the dildo stabbing into her, how she’d made Eve claw at the air and scream for God.
It was that kind of powerful embrace and orgasms that she could only get from a butch. They were so cocky and sure of themselves, usually with good reason.
Eve shook her head.
Now on the main floor, Eve headed into the dining room and spotted Zara immediately. She stood out from the crowd of socialites with her hair piled high on her head in an array of old-fashioned waves dotted with diamond-studded pins. Lipstick transformed her plump lips into dark red cherries, her high cheekbones hinted with rouge and her eyes emphasized by thick black lashes.
Eve stood for a long minute, wondering exactly what she could have ever been so curious about. Jesus, she was so femme. The opposite of the type of woman Eve fantasized about in her waking dreams.
Eve needed butch, butch, and all fucking butch.
Zara looked up and spotted her. A genuine smile formed on her mouth, but there were no flirty winks, not even a spark of desire in her eyes. Eve expelled a long breath in relief. Whatever had arced between them was gone. Thank the fashion Gods.
Eve went to her and placed a token kiss on her cheek. She knew that was expected.
“You look absolutely stunning, Eve. That new tan looks delicious on you,” Zara purred.
Eve liked the tan as well. Khandi had fought her tooth and nail about spray tans until Eve had thrown up her hands and decided to go for it. Now it was routine, as were the massages she worked in on her lunch break. It wasn’t as relaxing as she felt after Lexi’s voice had coaxed her to climax, but it was damn sure close.
“Thank you. How have you been?” Eve scoured the room, nodding and smiling as she recognized faces. Then she came to a face that hit something solid in her chest and she had to sit.
Jodi. She sat three tables down and across. Opposite her was an older woman who wasn’t ashamed of her love for diamonds. At least three rings laden with bling sparkled on the hand wrapped around her wine glass.
How cute. She was taking her mother out to dinner. Eve thought of her own mother, who’d called less than two hours ago to update her on their whereabouts. After her dad retired, her parents had opted to sell the house in which she’d grown up and buy an RV. They’d been traveling ever since. It was so their style, to just up and sell off their belongings, then hit the road with nothing more than an atlas and a GPS. This week they were hunkering down in Amarillo, Texas, where they had visited the Cadillac Graveyard along the famous Route 66.
So precious and so not Eve. Her mother had chosen the role of loving stay-at-home slave. She’d given up any dreams of a career to be at her husband’s beck and call, to carpool, to hustle a cheerleading squad to and from practices and games. Eve couldn’t. Eve wouldn’t. It might do for her mother, but she’d be damned if she’d give up herself for another. She’d worked too damn hard to toss it to the wind.
“I’ve been fantastic. Traveling. Seeing and being seen. I’m sure you can imagine.”
Eve wanted to turn her attention back to Zara, but she couldn’t pull her raging hormones away from Jodi’s hard profile and that damn hair that once again looked like she’d rushed a towel through it after a shower. It definitely shouldn’t be that sexy. Well, not off a cover, anyway. But it was, and Eve wanted her thighs clamped around the strands, wanted her legs dangling over those broad shoulders, wanted to come in her mouth.
She struggled for control and finally turned back to Zara. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”
Zara faked modesty with a slight wave of her hand, then quickly recovered and angled her face toward the ceiling. “It is good to be me sometimes.”
Eve mentally cursed. Not only was Zara all femme, but she was all femme wrapped inside herself. She was sure if Zara
could date and fuck herself without having to use her own energy, she’d have found the perfect soul mate.
“I hear through the grapevine you have a priceless new design. I can’t wait to get my hands on it. It will be stunning on me, I’m positive.” Zara’s eyes twinkled.
Could anyone be more stuck on themselves if they tried?
Eve looked back to Jodi, trying to size up the weird interaction earlier in the day. The second greeting hadn’t gone any better, this time with Jodi strolling away while Eve and Amelia went over the paint colors. It had been unsettling to watch her deliberately stay away from her. She was clearly not interested. The action only fueled Eve’s desire to fuck her, to show her how dangerous being inside her could be. God, she wanted to tear her apart with her teeth.
Without taking her eyes off the sexy piece of ass, Eve answered. “Yes, you’re going to look absolutely stunning in it.”
Jodi turned and trapped Eve in a carnal stare, her pretty eyes dipping from Eve’s cleavage to her legs, her expression hungry and searching. Eve swallowed hard, every fiber of her body awakening. Then Jodi looked away, her full attention back on the woman. Eve waited, hoping to get another chance to feel those eyes penetrate her soul, but it seemed that brief glance was all she was going to be privy to.
Not even a smile? Or a wink? What? Was she dog meat and Khandi forgot to tell her? Khandi didn’t hesitate to point out a flaw in anyone, Eve especially. That complete dismissal bugged her, though she was positive it shouldn’t. It never had before.
She didn’t think of herself as egotistical, but she’d turned a head or two in her time. Yet she couldn’t hold this woman’s attention for even six fucking seconds. Eve was suddenly jealous of the woman sitting across from Jodi. Whoever she was, she practically owned Jodi’s focus. Eve wanted to be the one locked in that ivy stare, wanted to dominate her attention.
Thirty minutes later, Eve had found the strength not to keep looking Jodi’s way by enduring Zara’s dramatized conversation about nightclubs and overzealous catfights.
Eve finished her salad and pushed it away. “I think that was the biggest concoction of tossed greens I’ve ever seen. Not to mention delicious.”
Zara watched her curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed anyone devouring a salad that big before. Everything okay? You seem a little distracted.”
Eve thought the statement odd. Zara didn’t strike her as one to offer a morsel of pity. “Sorry. I am a little. Seems I don’t have a minute to breathe this week.”
“The work mule is admitting she’s tired?” Zara looked around with a worried look. “Will the ceiling fall in on us?” She giggled and patted Eve’s hand.
Eve shrugged. “You caught me. Maybe I’m getting old?”
Zara gasped and delicately covered her heart. “You know that word is a no-no, Eve Harris. We don’t get o—that word.” She puckered her lips and readjusted herself in the seat.
Eve laughed and nodded. “You will never age, sweetie.”
Motion drew Eve’s attention to Jodi’s table. Jodi subtly called for the waiter with a wave of her finger to have her date’s wine refilled. God, how she looked at her date. It was like…like a lover.
No way. No way in hell something as fine as that would be fucking an old hag. Absofuckinglutely no way.
Once again, a jealous knot formed. Sex. That was it. She was lacking sex, phone sex, and Lexi was only a call away. She could and would put Eve out of her misery. Just a little more time with Zara, listening to her go on and on about herself, and she could escape the madness, could climb into bed with that British accent cradled to her ear.
She took a hard look at Zara, taking in the edges of her small breasts visible in the deep vee of her blouse, then blinked hard in surprise. What the fuck was she thinking? Shit, if she seriously thought Zara could scratch this itch, she was warped.
She jerked her concentration away just in time to see Jodi and her date rise from the table. The casual way Jodi placed her hand at the small of the woman’s back had Eve swallowing a gasp. The woman wrapped her hand around Jodi’s elbow like a perfect Scarlett O’Hara against her beau.
And if their touches weren’t proof enough, their path to the elevator was enough to make Eve throw up a little in her mouth.
Sweet angels, was she seriously going to take that wrinkle-faced woman upstairs and fuck her? The thought was unnerving. It was downright disgusting. More than disgusting. Eve’s pussy spasmed.
Eve was mesmerized with their departure, though her stomach was coiling like a rattler. She was aware of Zara’s voice, of Jodi’s sure strut across the room, of heat cradling between her thighs. Jodi allowed the woman into the elevator first, then stepped in behind her. She pushed a button, then turned and trapped Eve in a clit-massaging stare.
Eve swallowed hard and whipped around to face Zara, her heart jackhammering against her chest.
A grin crept across Zara’s lips and then she purred, “My, my. What expensive taste you have, my dear.”
Eve forced herself to stop this foolish behavior. She was acting irrational and jealous. She couldn’t think of being jealous a day in her life, let alone irrational. Her career, the well-being of her career, depended highly on her rationality.
Fuck! She needed Lexi. Needed Lexi to whisk her into a back-arching orgasm.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Zara glanced over Eve’s shoulder, then looked at her throat. “Your necklace. It looks expensive.”
Eve self-consciously fingered the glass pendent hanging in the hollow of her throat. “It’s not.”
As quickly as possible, Eve made her excuses and then staggered into an elevator. For some reason, she felt scarred after witnessing something so sexy taking that old bat upstairs. The thought of that woman pumping beneath Jodi made her inner demon growl and scratch at the surface.
Eve ripped open her clutch and dug out her cell.
She just needed Lexi. That’s all.
Lexi would fix her, would soothe this burning itch.
She always did.
Chapter Eight
Jodi’s heart cramped as the elevator doors hissed to a close, cutting off the sight of Eve. Of the shock and confusion clouding her gorgeous amber eyes. Had that been acknowledgment or disappointment nestled in their depths? Hell, Eve was dining with Zara. If her cover wasn’t already blown, she was positive it would be very soon, probably within minutes. The bitch had been a client on too many occasions, and the grapevine started and ended on her too-red lips.
Shit! Now what? All those images of fucking Eve, all the desires to hear those satisfied cries against her flesh, would flutter apart and evaporate before she hit the tenth floor. Eve would know she was an escort.
The thought drove a nail through her. Suddenly, she didn’t want to go upstairs, didn’t want to be a paid whore tonight. The thought of undressing this woman, Marilyn, put a sour taste in her mouth, in her heart, in her soul. She didn’t want to lay her hands on Marilyn’s body. Not tonight. Not when Eve’s eyes were haunting her.
When the door opened, it was all Jodi could do to step out, to lead the way to a room, to a bed, where someone else would come by her hands. An uneasy nausea settled in the pit of her stomach.
She walked to the hotel room on heavy feet and locked the door behind them. This was her life. The life she’d chosen for herself. This was the consequence of her choices so many years ago.
Marilyn let her pashmina wrap fall to the floor as she walked toward the bed. Jodi shucked out of her jacket and turned her back on the view of Marilyn preparing for sex. She concentrated on Eve, those striking amber eyes, her curves, her mouth, her voice. What would she sound like in person when Jodi stroked an orgasm from the pits of her soul? How would she feel pulsing around Jodi’s tongue? Jodi wanted to undress her, fold her hands around plump breasts, and explore every inch of her body before slipping inside her quivering depths.
She closed her eyes as she dropped the jacket over the chai
se lounge, her body spiking with heat and the imaginary feel of Eve’s flesh in her hands. Her heart sagged that no such quest would be possible once the truth emerged. By now, Zara would surely have blurted out the facts, no doubt embellished with her own brand of malicious poison, and tomorrow, Eve wouldn’t look at Jodi the same. Those curious eyes hadn’t gotten past Jodi earlier today. She was interested. Or had been.
When Marilyn cooed behind her, Jodi stiffened and drew in an unsteady breath.
With her head held high, she turned around and found Marilyn perched on the end of the bed. With her mind twisted, she started toward her. It wasn’t the first time she’d been Marilyn’s boi toy. God save her, she knew it wouldn’t be the last.
She kept walking. She had to finish this, no matter what.
One step at a time, she forced herself to approach the bed.
Marilyn smiled and lay back, her favored position.
Jodi knew them all so well, each and every client, their fantasies, their desires, what made them cry, what made them scream, what made them rupture with relief.
Right now, she didn’t care that Marilyn wanted a hot mouth latched on to her, or that Suzanne preferred Jodi to take her from behind, or even that Emily liked to be handcuffed, then fingered until she expelled an orgasm. She didn’t much care about anything except getting the job done so she could get the hell out of this claustrophobic room and to the phone that would link her with a woman who had touched something deep inside, one call after another, one soft pant and lonely cry after another.
She reached the bed, knelt, pushed Marilyn’s dress up around her thighs, and slowly removed her underwear with shaky hands. Gently, yet quickly, she placed kisses along the inside of her legs until she reached her wet opening. Normally, she’d tease until Marilyn begged to be taken. Not tonight. Not when Eve might still seek out Lexi’s voice. If Zara hadn’t demolished all hope, that is.