by Pamela Ann
Normally, it was up to me if I wanted to be affected by their displays of subtle flirtations and such, but it was different with her. Why? I wondered, frustrated at the contracts we had signed a week before. I simply couldn’t fathom her request, and had thought it a joke, that she’d change her mind the next morning. However, the joke had been on me.
I toyed with the idea of making her change her mind through seduction. I wanted her—badly. She would eventually beg me to take her. After all, that was the only way I would take her, and that was if she’d let me, giving me her full consent because, if I crossed that line, the contract would no longer be valid, and I would be the one paying her the same amount her father owed me.
Seducing her into submission was my way of showing her I would be willing to honor her wishes and, at the same time, get what I wanted in the end. I loved a good challenge, and Isobel offered that in spades. It was a wager I had with my ego and pride that I couldn’t turn down.
Seeing as she stood to the side, awaiting orders, I focused on the coffee before me, picking up the steaming cup as I took the dark espresso shot in one go. The scalding hot contents burned my tongue all the way down to my throat, the bite making me grit my teeth as I lavished on the instant effect it had on my body.
My sex drive was far from abysmal. Even after I had taken one of my lovers, with one look at Isobel, I would immediately get hard again. It had been difficult to be around her in the villa, which was why I had tried to keep it platonic for a whole week, because I wasn’t sure I could handle being alone with her. Most especially after that horrid clause in the contract. My hunger hadn’t dissipated. In fact, I believed the damn clause had only made her even more appetizing in my eyes.
After a week of avoiding her, I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to take her out tonight to an event I had committed to attending. It would also suit the other purpose of wanting to get to know her better, and being as it was a public place, there would be a slim chance I would try to devour her on the spot.
Clearing my throat, I checked the time before giving her a quick, swiping glance then focused back on my computer screen. “I have a gala to attend tonight, and I’m taking you with me.”
Her brow rose, giving me that sexy look while her lips glowered at me. “Oh, Sherry is not available?”
There was a subtle hint of bite in her words. It made me feel the need to reinstate who was the boss here.
“I take whomever I choose, Isobel. And tonight, I choose you. Do you have a problem with that?”
She paused, staring at me, before blinking those tantalizing, long, sooty lashes at me. “No, Hugo, I don’t have a problem with that.” Pressing her lips together, she straightened her stance. “What time do you need me ready by?”
“I need you by six. You can leave to get ready whenever you like—spa, dress shopping, and whatever else you need. There’s a driver waiting for your disposal.”
“In that case, I better get going to get myself primed and pretty for yours truly.” Her brow rose, challenging me.
She was already primed and pretty; I doubted she could get any prettier than this. “You go ahead and do just that, ma belle. I’ll see you at six.”
“See you then,” she murmured as she quietly strode towards the doors, my eyes following her stride, watching her hips sway from one side to the other.
Hard and frustrated, I took my phone to call Chantel, asking her to come by and give me a quick visit. It had been like this for the past seven days—me always ending up calling Sherry or Chantel mid-day to cater to my needs even at the office. Furthermore, when those times happened, Isobel wouldn’t look me in the eye before she exited the room to leave me to do my business. Abstinence wasn’t in my DNA. Besides, I was a hot-blooded French man who always got what he wanted. Sex was one aspect in my life I could fully enjoy without restrictions, and I tried to supply my life with it as much as possible.
Twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock on the door before Chantel ushered herself in, wearing a seductive smile. “Mon Roi.” (My King.)
“Chantel.” I gave her a knowing look when she halted before my desk. I leaned back in my chair and watched her carefully take her garments off, one at a time. I liked my women to seductively unwrap themselves like a present before me, getting me excited as I looked at what was going to be mine.
When she was left with her underwear on, I stopped her, asking her to leave it on before she sensually strode towards me. The moment she reached me, she immediately got on her knees, unzipped my pants and took me in her mouth. She did it nice and slow, making me feel her enticing licks as my cock started to throb. I shut my lids and imagined Isobel taking me in her mouth. Mon Dieu! I became harder than I was, grunting as I took her head with my right hand and pushed her mouth deeper, taking what she could until I felt her throat close around me. After I felt her gag, I wrenched her off my shaft, pulled her to her feet and licked the side of her ear.
“Bend over my desk, spread your legs wide and open. I want to see both holes as you stretch your body.”
She did as I asked, taking her panties off languorously slow first, and in reward, I gave her a hard spank on her bottom, making her moan in earnest.
“Hugo,” she gasped my name as I palmed her soaking wet cunt. “Baise-moi.” (Fuck me.)
I smirked, knowing quite well how loud she’d be the moment I slipped my cock into her pussy.
“As you wish, mon amant.”
Sixty-Nine
Isobel
Casually giving the silent man sitting next to me a glance, I tried to breach the vast stretch of silence. “Where are we headed to?” After he’d arrived in the villa to get me, all dressed up and showered, from his office, he merely gave me a quick inspection with a stale greeting of “Good evening, Isobel” before opening the door for me to get inside his swanky, two-door sports car. Apart from that, Hugo hadn’t supplied me with any words.
He stretched his neck from side to side then cleared his throat. “To a wine auction that will benefit homeless children.”
Sigh. He was making this difficult. He wasn’t very forthcoming at all, and since this was our first official outing together, I had thought he’d be more accommodating, but he was proving to be standoffish. “Sounds exciting. Are you setting your sights on anything in particular?”
Eyes stuck to the road, he used his left hand to tug his tie a little before responding to me. “For a while now… yes,” he murmured. “And I intend to acquire it at all costs.”
There was something about the way he said it that made me glance at his darkly handsome profile. I felt my stomach drop as I took in his masculine perfection. Greek men were passionate; however, French men were something else. Their passions seemed to go with everything they did—like limited edition spirits.
“Must be a fine wine then. I’m sure it’s pricey.”
“Anything fine is always expensive. Nothing in life is free.”
The bite in his tone made me feel at odds; therefore, I remained silent for I had no smart retort. After all, if one looked at it in black and white, my father had offered me like a barter to pay of his debts in return for my willing servitude.
He was right. Nothing in life was free…
“And who is this belle enchanteresse, Xavier?” The famous racer Jacques Bertrand inquired the moment Hugo and I joined their close circle of friends.
Hugo touched the back of my hips, letting his hand stay there as he introduced me. “This is Isobel. She’s spending the summer with me.” He then paused as he stared ahead before gazing back to his friends, frowning. “Give me a moment to speak to someone.” He made a quick nod towards me before whispering, “I’ll be right back.”
I watched after him as strode towards the opposite side of the hall, feeling a little odd yet again because his parting seemed awkward. Hugo and I didn’t know each other, so maybe that was the reason behind his weird behavior.
Someone cleared their throat, picking up my attention as I
looked up and found Jacques Bertrand’s amused face. “Well, it’s quite lovely to meet you, Isobel.”
Smiling shyly, I made the same sentiment. “Same here, Monsieur Bertrand.”
“Call me Jacques.” He offered his hand, and when I shook it, he hung on to mine before giving me a questioning look. “I thought you were Italian at first sight, but your accent denies it…”
I was unbelievably out of my league here. These men were used to women that could flirt back with them with ease, but I was having a hard time not being completely star-struck at the handsome and well-known racer and womanizer extraordinaire.
“Greek,” I offered to solve his problem, feeling out of my comfort zone as I watched the women saunter about, looking ever so glamorous while I felt like an interloper playing pretend.
“Simply beautiful,” he murmured before placing his lips on the back of my hand, making me gasp from shock and excitement.
“Behave, Jacques. She’s already taken,” the woman standing next to him butted in with a playful smile. “I’m Stella von Berg.”
I was about to say “Nice to meet you” when the man next to her interrupted me. “Was von Berg. Now Kensington, my lovely wife.”
She exaggeratedly rolled her eyes before tapping his lapel. “And this is Callum, my husband.”
Married couple. How sweet and endearing.
“It’s great to meet you both,” I said pleasantly at the couple before my eyes found the last member of their circle; another tall, dark, and handsome man. Swallowing my shyness, I greeted him, “Hello.”
“Julien Geroux. Some might say I’m Hugo’s closest friend to date.” There was wickedness to his smile as he audaciously shifted and took Hugo’s spot before excusing us from his friends, who were already starting to talk about Jacques’s upcoming race. “Let’s get you something to drink. Champagne?”
“Yes, please.”
He plucked up two flutes from the passing waiter before securing us a spot in a corner. I was still feeling out of depth, yet my curiosity had been piqued the second Julien wanted some privacy to speak to me.
Casually offering me the flute, he gave me a warm smile as I took it with ease before those intelligent eyes sharpened on me. “You speak French?”
“A little… only the basics,” I murmured before taking a cautious sip, eyes unwavering at the newly introduced man.
“Très bien.”
He seemed forward yet accommodating enough. I supposed it wouldn’t be too bad if I let my guard down a little. He didn’t seem the type to have their claws out just because I was dating his friend.
“So, Julien… closest friend to Hugo; that must be something.” My brow arched as I waited for him to supply me with some information.
Apart from what I had seen and knew of Hugo, there wasn’t much about him on the internet other than how his family started and how their wealth accumulated from smart investments. There was nothing to clue me in about his personal life, much other than photographs. I needed the puny details—something to tell me what made the man tick. After all, I was to be in his “care” for the next six months. Wanting to know more about the man who would see to my welfare didn’t seem unreasonable.
Julien shrugged my question off, looking noncommittal. “We have our moments like the rest. We’ve grown up together since toddlers.” Another casual French shrug before he appointed me another question. “How do you find him and everything else?”
Hugo surprisingly seemed harmless. Well, if I took out that first time we met and how he daringly came in my hands and how powerful I felt then. He’d been distant since, leaving me to my own devices.
“It’s okay…” Blushing as I murmured my answer, feeling quite bothered each time I recalled that incident in my mind. Every time, it never failed to make me feel… things.
“And the girls?”
Sherry and Chantel were distant but seemed friendly enough. I could only be thankful the three of us, though we lived in the same wing, all led separate lives. They had their own sets of friends and lived as if they were boarding in the villa, and not mistresses of Hugo Xavier. It was surprisingly harmonious given the odd circumstances.
“They are reserved but pleasant.” Taking another sip, I pondered my next question, hoping I wasn’t probing on a subject that was off-limits. “May I ask why he prefers triple?”
Julien beamed at me, giving me a glimpse of his own dark, sexy beauty. He and Hugo shared that whole laissez-faire attitude, yet it was done with subtle elegance, great confidence, and an underlying power even right up to the way they held their heads high. They had some male ego competition going on, from what I was gathering. I wasn’t sure if it was by birthright or simply by being raised together, but I must admit, it was mesmeric to be around their casual air of certainty.
“How do I explain this delicately…?” Clearing his throat, he took a sip of his drink before focusing on our conversation. “Years ago, this woman he was in a relationship with fell in love with him even though he told her that nothing was going to come out of their union.”
There was always that poor woman who fell for the bad boy. Thank goodness that wouldn’t be the case with me.
“Let’s just say she made a big deal out of it and caused a lot of complications in his life.” When he broke his lips for a smile this time, it appeared sad. “From then on, he thinks having only one is dangerous to the woman’s mental health.”
“A security blanket. One was surely complicated, having two would merely spark competition, but three? Three is perfect harmony.” I figured it out for myself. My thoughts travelled into the villa, picturing a woman smitten and doomed with her love for a man who didn’t accept it. How tragic it must’ve been for her.
“Sure, you can call it that.”
Well, whatever Hugo was harboring, he could rest assured I wouldn’t ever be in that same fate because, even though he was the most beautiful creature I had ever been graced to meet, my heart remained forever with Damen, who was patiently waiting for me to finish this “job” I had vaguely explained to him, needing space and an excuse for breaking his heart. My father was a selfish brute of a bastard. If it weren’t for my brother and mother, I wouldn’t be standing here tonight.
Breathing out my frustration, I carried on with the conversation. “What about you? Do you have a similar outlook with women?”
Julien laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re forward, aren’t you, viande fraîche?” I gave him a puzzled look before he produced the answer. “Fresh meat. Viande fraîche is what I shall call you from now on.”
Oh, please. Maybe to his standards I was. I was far from being one, but I didn’t dare argue with him.
“More champagne?”
“I’m afraid your waiting services are no longer needed, Julien.” Hugo’s arctic voice interrupted us, making us both turn while my breath caught as our eyes clashed. I supposed whoever he had spoken to earlier on, it hadn’t gone as planned.
Hugo harshly said something in rapid French, making me bite my lip as I stared at the both of them, uncertain if I should hide. He sounded like he was infuriated, but Julien’s easy smile contradicted my assumptions.
“Isobel, it was marvelous to speak to you this evening. I will see you again.” He made a gallant bow before he brazenly winked at Hugo and then left us in quite a heavy shroud of thick silence.
Damn.
Seventy
Isobel
“Hugo.” Frowning at him, I failed to understand what was going through his mind. This man was far too complex for my naïve outlook on men. Apart from my father, I had no close experience with men like Hugo and Julien—men with too much power. At a snap of their fingers, the world fell at their feet. They exuded it—even that Callum Kensington man earlier on had shown similar assured confidence.
Money. Obscene amounts of it could lead a man into believing they could walk on air, or on any ground for that matter.
“We’re leaving,” he gritted out before he gave me a slashi
ng look.
Wait. He seemed almost accusing. What was that look for anyway? I was merely speaking to his friend, not having a quick romp in the storage room.
“Leaving? Now? The event hasn’t even started.”
“We are leaving.” He had that expression on him, as if he was speaking to a child, ready to reprimand when the need arose. “Unless, of course, you want to stay for a cozier tête-à-tête with Julien, then you’re more than welcome to stay.”
Aghast, I stared at him agog. “What?”
For the first time, he came close to me, breath hot against my ear while I slightly trembled against his body.
“You heard me well,” he warned. “So choose.”
Trembling to be this close to him, I was confused at my body’s reaction towards the man. Whenever he was near, I somehow did that. I had no clue why, either.
“I came here with you. I’m leaving with you.”
Without a word, he ushered us out of there, bypassing his friends that seemed too confused when Hugo didn’t acknowledge them as they said something about where we were heading.
Once we reached the outside and the valet had handed him his keys, we travelled back the same road we had taken about an hour ago. The only difference was that the air about him was more untouchable compared to the quiet indifference he’d portrayed.
Gazing at his profile, I sadly noted how his rogue sexiness only added to his appeal when angry. He drove the car as if he was racing towards Hell, uncaring that he bypassed one hundred on the speedometer.
I wasn’t sure what was bothering him; however, there clearly was something on his mind. Was it the meeting earlier on, or could it be because he found me cozy with Julien? The first choice was more viable since the second meant he would be jealous, which was ridiculous since we hadn’t known each other long enough and hadn’t been speaking at all when the purpose didn’t serve it. Therefore, if Julien was to be believed that they were particularly close, then his anger was most likely angled towards his friend.