“Oh, I hired some pretty girls too. I’m not stupid.” She looked Padme up and down. “Speaking of which, you look gorgeous.”
Padme grinned shyly. She was wearing a dark gold sheath dress which clung to her curvy body in all the right places and dipped low at the back, revealing a silky expanse of dusky skin. Her chestnut brown hair, thick and wavy, hung to the middle of her back. She’d made up her face with only the barest minimum of makeup, preferring the natural look, but there was a hint of pink blush on her cheeks and a rosy tint to her lips. Padme wasn’t ignorant of her natural beauty; it was that just it didn’t mean anything significant to her. She would rather be complimented on her intellect or her sense of humor. At Quantico, she’d had to fight hard to shake off the mantle of beauty over brains—finishing at the top of the class had helped that. Her usual uniform of jeans and T-shirt had been forgone tonight though, and Padme had enjoy getting dressed up for this party,
Harpa, no slouch in the looks department herself, grinned at her friend, but then glared at her in mock-disapproval. “You’d better not stand too close to Cosima—way too much beauty. You’ll both break all the men present.”
She dragged Padme, laughing, into the main room of Harpa’s new Seattle-based restaurant, Bedi. Bedi had been Harpa’s pseudonym when she had switched careers from fashion styling to her passion, cooking, a few years ago, and now Harpa was one of the most sought-after chefs in the world. Padme had met Harpa soon after Harpa had suffered through a traumatic time with her lovely older sister, Cosima. Cosima had been shot and nearly killed by her own FBI protector, Jack Hampton, and it had been that shocking attempted murder that had inspired Padme to go into training at Quantico.
Padme, at twenty-eight, knew all about betrayal. Her birth mother had given her up, and she had spent years in the foster care system, alone and vulnerable. When she was thirteen, she was assaulted by one of her guardians, a kind-faced man called Robert. Robert had threatened to kill Padme if she ever told anyone about the assault, and she had never forgotten the feeling of having her trust wrenched away from her.
Despite her difficult start to life, Padme was persistent. She had worked three jobs to pay for college and had been head-hunted by a man called Henry Jones to enter the program at Quantico. Padme had been top of her class, and now she was three days away from her first assignment. She was nervous but excited about the job, and right now she just wanted to kick back and relax on this last Friday before her new start.
Harpa returned with some drinks, including a violently bright cocktail that looked lethal. Padme chuckled at the mischievous expression on Harpa’s face. The cocktail was potent, but delicious, and Padme felt any tension about her upcoming assignment slide away.
She spotted Cosima and went to greet her. Cosima glowed with health and pregnancy— her fifth, Harpa had told Padme with an astonished shake of her head. Cosima and her husband, the gloriously handsome property magnate Arlo Forrester, were as inseparable as ever.
Cosima kissed Padme’s cheek. “Girl did good, Pad. We’re all so, so proud of you.”
Padme flushed with pleasure. Cosima was the big sister Padme had always wanted: kind, sweet, and generous. She smiled at her now. “Number five, eh?”
Cosima nodded at Arlo. “The Spermanator.”
Padme giggled as Arlo rolled his eyes. “How are your other offspring?”
“Tilly and Fen are in Paris on a school trip—delighted to be away from their nagging parents.”
“Typical eight-year-olds.”
“Yep. Mina is at her first sleepover and loving it, and Bear is at home with the babysitter. They’re exhausting,” Cosima said with an exaggerated groan, and a twinkle in her eye. Padme knew she loved being a mother as much as she loved being an architect. Cosima was a force of nature, managing to fit more in a day than most people did in a lifetime. She nodded to Padme.
“Excited about your first real assignment?”
Padme nodded. “Nervous excitement. Dale, my partner, and I are going to protect an Italian businessman who pissed off the wrong people. He’s going to testify against the Ingles.”
Arlo whistled. “Brave dude—they are some nasty, nasty people.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve seen the photos of some of their victims—and worse, their victims’ wives and children. So, I’m being thrown in the deep end here.”
Cosima was frowning now. “It sounds dangerous, Pad. You will be careful, won’t you?”
Padme smiled at her friend gratefully. “I will.”
“Did Severin make it tonight?”
Severin was Padme’s sort-of-adopted-mother, if it was possible to be sort of adopted at eighteen. Severin had come into Padme’s life at a time when she needed a mentor, someone to help steer her away from the life of misery and degradation that had been beckoning. Severin Banks was one of Seattle’s most prominent activists. At age sixty-four, she showed no signs of stopping—her campaigns for equal pay for women, for the LGBT community, and for the advancement of her own black community kept her in the headlines. When she had seen the young, lost, almost destitute half-Indian girl, she had taken her under her wing, and had inspired Padme to be the change she wanted to see.
Padme shook her head. “She has a date.”
Cosima chuckled. “With the same guy as last time?”
“Nah, that fizzled out. This guy is nice, a lot younger. Severin says it’s a good thing; he’ll have enough stamina to keep up with her.”
Cosima and Arlo laughed, and they chatted a little longer before Cosima was stolen away by her sister as Harpa made a small speech, thanking everyone for coming.
Padme refilled her drink and circulated, using her finely-tuned observation skills to engage in some people-watching. It was just after midnight when she felt someone staring at her. She glanced up, and her insides went to mush. Across the room, the most gorgeous man was smiling at her. He was tall, casually dressed in a light white linen top and jeans, leaning back against the wall. His dark hair was shaggy and wild about his head, his smile sensual and confident.
Padme felt that smile everywhere. She sipped her drink, unable to tear her gaze away from his. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked slowly toward her. Padme’s heart began to pound.
A second later, she cursed silently as one of Harpa’s friend’s descended on her, arms open. What was her name again? Deirdre? Brenda? “Darling Pad,” she breathed, enveloping her in a warm hug. “I just heard you graduated. Congratulations, sweetie! Come, let me buy you an enormous drink and you can tell me all about the FBI.”
Padme smiled at the woman. She really was very sweet; it was just that her timing sucked. The sexy God had disappeared, obviously moved on to a more available target. Damn it. Padme was feeling in need of a little male attention. The initial sexual attraction some of her male classmates had felt for her had either turned into friendship, or as she progressed and they saw how brilliant she was and how much better she was at the job than they were, resentment. Padme didn’t care one iota. She had one hard and fast rule: never pee in the company pool. Ever.
She was still a woman with needs though, and she knew once she got into her new assignment, she would be focused solely on that … and all work, and no play, she thought now, with a grin to herself. Deirdre/Brenda was talking about her kids now and Padme nodded along politely, still scanning the room, looking for him.
Her companion drifted away after a few minutes and Harpa came over to replenish Padme’s drink. “Did you get caught?” she asked with a grin, “Barbara’s lovely, but she can talk for hours.”
Barbara, that was it. Padme chuckled. “She’s sweet. Hey, Harp, who’s the guy with the dark curls, very sexy, tall?”
Harpa looked blank. “Mikah?”
Padme laughed. “No, doofus.” She looked around and spotted him at the bar. “Him, there.”
Harpa followed her line of sight. “Oh, him. Yes, God, isn’t he something else? No one seems to know who he is.”
“
A crasher?”
“Maybe, but when they look like that, they can crash all they want.” Harpa grinned at Padme. “You should go for it, Pad. You need some R&R.”
Padme smirked. “I don’t think I’d be resting and relaxing if I had a man like that.”
“Well, in his case, it would stand for Riding and Reaming.”
Padme nearly choked on her drink. “That is so gross, Harpa Malhotra.”
“You would, though.”
“I would.”
“Is that Mikah waving like a loon at me? Excuse me, Pad, he’s having a crisis.”
Harpa disappeared—and so had the R&R guy again. Elusive bastard, wasn’t he? Still, despite giggling over Harpa’s coarseness, she let herself fantasize about the man’s cock being inside her, fucking her hard … God, she was getting wet just thinking about it.
The drink was definitely getting to her. The music had been turned down to a slow sensual beat now, the lighting had dimmed, and people were beginning to dance.
Padme closed her eyes, listening to the music. She felt a fingertip being lightly traced down her spine and knew instantly it was him. She felt his hands on her waist as he turned her to face him. Her eyes still closed, not wanting to break the spell, she felt his lips brush her eyelids lightly.
“Hello.” Soft, deep, sensual.
Padme opened her eyes and looked into the greenest eyes she had ever seen, locked on hers intently. Neither of them spoke; they just gazed at each other for the longest time. Then he slipped a hand onto the small of her back and began to dance with her. Their bodies swayed in time with the music, getting closer and closer. Padme couldn’t look away from his intense gaze, her body responding to him. He pulled her closer, his lips an inch from hers, but he made no attempt to kiss her, the anticipation of it both sweet and painful.
Padme traced the shape of his lips with a trembling finger, then stroked his face. He really was achingly handsome. His hand was on her belly now, stroking it through the thin silk of her dress and Padme felt herself relax into his touch, wanting more. She could feel the hardness of his erection through his jeans; it, too, pressed against her belly. He tangled his hands in her hair and finally, finally, his lips met hers. A rush of heady sensations shot through Padme and she moaned softly as he kissed her. She heard him chuckle, a low, deep, sexy sound.
“Beautiful girl,” he whispered, his lips at her ear, “I want you so badly, I want to be in you, right now …”
Padme could only nod, God, yes, yes, she wanted this man to fuck her now, please …
“Come with me,” he said softly and took her hand. She let herself be led out of the main room into the corridor at the back of the restaurant. His hand felt so good, the fingers warm and dry, and she couldn’t help imagining them on her breasts, her belly, stroking her clit …
What the actual hell? Am I actually going to do this? In public? She blinked back into reality and stopped. “Wait.”
He turned to her, his hands on her waist now. “For what?” he asked, his voice low and sexy, American—or at least trying to sound American. His eyes were merry, filled with desire for her, and Padme felt weak.
He bent his head, and as his lips touched hers, all reason fled and she kissed him back with as much passion as he did her. His hands tangled in her long dark hair, bunching it up in his fist as he pushed her against the wall of the hallway.
Padme gasped as his hands slid under her dress and pushed it up, his fingers stroking her through her panties. God, yes … the mere force of him, his machismo, his hard body …
He dropped to his knees, tugging her panties from her, and then his tongue was on her clit. Padme gasped, a little shocked, but her mysterious lover didn’t relent, bringing her to the point of a shattering orgasm before standing and pulling her into an unlocked office.
“I need to hear you moan,” he said, locking the door after them. “And I need to hear you scream when you come.”
Jesus, this man. He swept her off of her feet and laid her on the desk. Padme pulled her dress over her head and he pulled down a lacy cup of her bra and took her nipple into his mouth.
She cupped his cock through his jeans, stroking the hot, massive length of it. He smiled at her and then the frenzy began, him almost biting at her in his desperate need for her, Padme freeing his rampant cock from his pants.
She took him into her mouth and teased the tip of his cock with her tongue, stroking the length of him with her fingers, massaging his balls. He would not let her suck him for long; he drew away and pulled her legs around him. Padme almost cried at the anticipation of it, and when his cock slammed deep into her, she cried out, laughing and moaning. Her lover smiled down at her as he thrust, their bodies fitting together so perfectly, they found a rhythm easily. Padme moaned at the feel of him plunging deep into her, clinging to him as he supported her. They fucked hard, not caring if they were caught, completely focused on the other. He was so beautiful she could barely stand to look at him, his green eyes fixed on hers, their connection one of pure desire.
Padme came, muffling her cries in his neck as she felt him come, pumping thick creamy cum deep into her belly. Her vagina contracted hard around his pumping cock, taking him in, milking him. God … was this stupid and reckless? Probably, but she didn’t care at this particular moment. He caressed her clit, making stars explode in her visions, the feeling of not caring if she lived or died making her delirious. When he finally withdrew, he buried his face in her soft belly, kissing it, rimming her navel with his tongue. He was still wearing his linen top, but Padme had slid her fingers under it and was now stroking his hard and finely-honed torso. He was so broad, so masterful, his body completely dominating hers. He kissed her again, the embrace full of tenderness.
They caught their breaths, panting hard, gazing at the other. “That was incredible,” she whispered, and he gave a low, sexy chuckle.
“Yes, it was. But I have a feeling the best is yet to come. Come back to my hotel with me, beautiful one.”
And Padme couldn’t think of one reason to say no.
She quickly returned to the main room and hugged Harpa goodbye, trying not to think of the sexy man waiting for her outside in a cab. He was leaning against it, grinning at her as she came to meet him. God, this was … there wasn’t a word for it. Insane? She didn’t even know his name, and yet it seemed right to go with him.
He kissed her all the way to his hotel, not caring what the cab driver thought, or the people in the elevator on the way up to his room. Padme was completely under his spell, and when they finally reached his room, he began to pull her dress off, apparently eager to get her naked as soon as possible.
His hands on her skin made Padme’s heart race. His tongue caressed hers before he freed her breasts from her bra, and then his mouth was on each of her nipples in turn, sucking and teasing until they were so sensitive she could have screamed. Instead, she tugged his shirt over his head, and as her hands worked the zipper of his jeans she explored his chest with her mouth, trailing her lips across his hard pecs, biting down gently on his nipples. His cock was hot and huge in her hands, diamond-hard and quivering as she stroked it.
Her lover gave a growl of pure desire and carried her to the bed, laying her down and pushing her knees to her chest before slamming his cock into her. He pinned her hands above her head, his gloriously handsome face intensely focused on hers as they fucked, his mouth almost savage as he kissed her.
Padme gasped and moaned through two orgasms, and when he finally released her hands, she cupped his face with her palms, watching as his orgasm hit. His face became softer with the release. He gave a long groan, his cock pumping thick streams of cum deep inside her.
He kissed her as he withdrew, but Padme wanted more. She moved down his body and took his still-half-erect cock into her mouth, the silky skin salty with his cum. She traced the vein up the side, feeling his cock engorge with blood again. His hands gently stroked her hair as she brought him to the brink of another orgasm bef
ore he pulled her on top of him. She rode him hard, slamming her hips against his as his hands cupped her breasts.
They fucked twice more before collapsing on the bed exhausted, panting for air. After a moment, they looked at each other and began to laugh.
“Well,” he said softly. “Hello.”
Padme grinned at him. “Hello … and lose that American accent, would you? So far, it’s the only fake thing about you.”
He chuckled. “Fair point.” He rolled onto his side and kissed her. “Well, then, hello. I’m Danilo.”
Okay, so her finely-tuned FBI training told her he was still lying, but maybe that was okay for now. She’d seen enough of him to know he wasn’t carrying a concealed weapon, she grinned to herself. His sexy Italian accent made her want to look past just about anything, especially a little white lie. “Penny,” she said, giving him a look that told him two can play that game, buddy.
Danilo smiled. “I didn’t expect to go to a party and meet the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Her mouth hitched up on one side. “That’s such a line.”
“No, it’s true, but I can see your point. You don’t have to trust me.”
Padme studied him. His face was both beautiful and rugged, a strange combination—she could imagine, when angry, he could look hard and dangerous. But now, she saw no threat in his looks—especially when he was looking at her like he wanted to fuck her senseless … again.
“What’s your real name?” she asked, taking a risk. His face grew pensive then, but he was no more willing to tell her the truth.
“I cannot tell you, Principessa. It would be dangerous.”
Padme felt a frisson go through her. “For whom?”
“For both of us.”
Who was this dude? Was he a player who was trying to project an air of mystery? She studied him, trying to push past the crazy sex fog that came with thoroughly and expertly being fucked by a seriously sexy man, to see the person underneath. He grinned at her scrutiny. “You like what you see?”
Vengeful Seduction_A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 26