by Mia Carson
“Do you think it’s enough?” she asked trying to catch her breath.
“I’ll give it a final touch when I leave.” He didn’t move to let her go and she didn’t point it out. Being in Sam’s arms was too right. She swore they had to have met at some point for her to feel so comfortable around him. He sighed and let her slide down the length of his body. “Until we meet again, Harley.” He kissed the top of her head, and she tucked his business card between her cleavage. Sam’s eyes darkened, and he swept her up in his arms for one final kiss. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”
“Maybe that’s my plan.” She played with his shirt, roughing it up a bit more. “Sam? Thanks for tonight…I mean, for not pushing. This wasn’t exactly my choice, but you definitely made it better.”
He smiled and removed his arm from her waist. “It’ll be thanks enough if you call me.”
Before she could say anything else, he unlocked the door and stepped out into the hall, closing it behind him. She heard a few voices out in the hall and pressed her ear to the crack. The second she heard Ricky, her heart pounded in her chest and she glanced around the room behind her.
“Shit!” She rushed to mess up the bed and the couch cushions and splayed herself on the edge of the bed, looking like she was putting the corset back on when a knock sounded at the door. “Who is it?”
“Ricky. We need to talk.”
“You can come in,” she called out and hoped she looked like she just had her very first roll in the hay.
Someone called Ricky’s name as the door cracked open and he paused. Worried she wouldn’t convince him, Harley slipped the thong off and tossed it onto the floor, and when Ricky still didn’t turn around, she plucked one final pin from her hair, stabbed the tip of her finger, and smeared it on the sheet behind her.
“Now then,” Ricky said loudly as he entered the room.
She quickly grabbed the edge of the sheet to cover her naked bottom half and glowered at him. “You couldn’t wait until I had a chance to leave the room before you came to check on me?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” His eyes assessed her as he closed the door and stalked closer. She gripped the sheet tightly as he licked his lips. “Well, now, how was your first time, dearie?”
“Why don’t you ask the guy?”
“Oh, I did, and he spouted your worth from one end of the hall to the other.” Ricky stopped a foot from her and smirked when his eyes landed on her thong at his feet. To her disgust, he bent down, picked it up, and sniffed it. “You sure you won’t consider my offer to work in my club full time? You would be well compensated for it. Look at how much you made in one night. Two-hundred-thousand, ready and waiting for you to take.”
“So it’ll be transferred in the morning?” she asked, considering running away the second it appeared in the account.
“Why would I do that? No, you will see your money when you complete the other end of our little arrangement, or your sister will disappear one day,” Ricky warned as he leaned in closer. “Ah, and there’s my proof.”
She didn’t bother to turn and look at the blood smear. “Satisfied?”
“I’d be more satisfied if you were up for a second round, but from the furious look in your eyes, I’d say no.”
“That would be correct. Do you mind?” she asked and held out her hand for the thong.
Ricky swung it around his finger before dropping it in her hand. “I’ll pass this information on to Mr. Devois and be in touch. If he agrees to see you, then all will be well in the world.”
“And if he doesn’t?’
“Let’s just say your sister will work off her debt much faster if you join her.” Ricky picked up a lock of her hair and let it slip through his fingers. “Such a waste as a cocktail waitress. I hoped tonight would awaken the inner seductress, but alas, I was wrong. See you soon, Harley.”
He stepped to the side but didn’t leave the room. Glaring at him, she managed to slip on the thong without him seeing her nakedness, remembering at the last second that she should probably be sore and walked with a funny gait out the door. Once she found her way back to the dressing room behind the stage, she changed out of the corset quickly and praised the comfort of her jeans and t-shirt, tucking Sam’s business card safely away in her purse.
A cab was easy enough to find at the late hour, and she reached her apartment not long after.
“How was it?” Brianna asked the second she stepped inside.
Harley hugged her sister close and kissed the top of her head. “You know, not so bad. I actually think I met a really nice guy who, after he bought a night with me, did not want to have sex with me.”
“Well, that’s rude,” Karen said from the kitchen table. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Really, I’m good.”
Harley had told Karen about everything that happened with her sister, and her friend threatened to take them both out of the city even though none of them had any real money to leave. And the money she made tonight from a billionaire—who she was pretty sure bordered on insanity to drop so much so easily—wouldn’t be available until after she took care of this Mr. Devois.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You look funny,” Brianna said as she handed Harley a hot cup of tea.
“I know that look,” Karen exclaimed. “Holy shit, Harley, only you would meet an actually decent guy at a place like that.”
“I said the same thing.” She couldn’t stop smiling as she joined them at the small kitchen table. “Do you guys want to hear about Samuel Benson?”
Karen choked on her tea. “Samuel Benson the billionaire? He bid on you?”
“Oh, yeah, and if all goes well, the three of us will be sitting pretty for a long while.” She sipped her tea, the warmth from the liquid not even close to measuring up to the fire Sam ignited in her. She glanced at her purse and the business card that resided inside it. “Who wants to hear about my night?”
Chapter 5
Friday night, Sam was sleepless, but not because he wasn’t tired. He couldn’t stop seeing Harley or feeling her body fitting so perfectly against his. He paced around his penthouse and tried not to act like a smitten teenager glancing at his cell every hour to see if she called.
Saturday morning, he sipped his coffee, watching the sun rise over the city, wondering what Harley was doing. Too bad he didn’t have her number or he would’ve called her last night to be sure she got out of the club all right. When he left her in the room, he’d walked to the end of the hall, boasting about the woman and the best night of his life. As he glanced back, hoping to catch a glimpse of her one more time, he watched a man in a fancy silk suit talking to a few other men who did not appear to be lusty men there for a night out. They looked ready to cause trouble, and Sam stayed at the end of the hall. The man in the silk suit stopped at the door where Harley was and walked in. Sam knew he was the bastard who had required proof. He was glad he’d made the decision not to have sex with her.
Later that morning after he dressed and showered, a knock sounded at his front door as it opened. “Hey, Sam? You ready?”
“Just about.” He finished buttoning his shirt and smoothed back his hair.
“So, still mum on the details of your night?” Marcus asked as he and Sam left the apartment. “You dropped half a million bucks on one woman! You have to tell me play-by-play what happened. Was it good?”
“You’re going to think I’ve lost it,” Sam said as he pushed the down button on the elevator. “We didn’t have sex.”
Marcus chuckled. “Right, you bid five-hundred-thousand on some hot piece of ass and you don’t have sex. Sure. If you don’t want to tell me, fine. Keep all the juicy details to yourself.”
“I’m serious, man. We didn’t have sex. We talked the whole time and it was great.”
“You’re not joking,” Marcus stated, his eyes wide. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Why would you do that? You paid for that—to be the first
man to spread her legs, to fill her—and you didn’t do her!”
Sam ground his teeth as they exited the elevator. “Can you stop talking about her like she’s a damn piece of meat? Harley is one of the most incredible women I’ve met in a long time, and I had a fantastic evening without it ending in sex. What’s wrong with that?”
“Are you feeling okay? Did she freak you out or something, because I’m sure I could get you a refund since she’s still untouched.”
Sam stopped and grabbed his friend’s arm. “No, I don’t want a refund. I have more money than I know what to do with. I helped her with whatever issues she’s dealing with in her life, and she helped me realize something very important. If you want to save yourself from a black eye, stop talking about her. Got it?”
Marcus held up his hands in surrender. “Sure thing, boss.”
Sam let him go and stalked to the car. “Good. I’m assuming you enjoyed your evening. Where did you end up, anyway?”
They slid into the car and Sam revved the engine as Marcus cackled. “Oh, man, I found a very interesting show. I watched a few women and a guy go through what they call public humiliation. From the way they moaned and groaned, I’d say it was far from that. I found another woman in the audience as hot and bothered as I was and we had a quickie in one of those convenient booths.”
“Do you remember her name?”
“I’m not even sure I asked her name,” he mused. “Huh, she was hot though, and her body! She must’ve been a gymnast at some point.”
Sam’s lips thinned as he pulled out onto the main drag and drove towards his offices. “Don’t you think this is a problem at all?”
“What’s a problem?”
“The way we’ve been living lately. Doesn’t it bother you at all, on some level? You’re only a few years from thirty, too, you know.”
Marcus shifted against the leather seats. “You’re too damn young to have a mid-life crisis.”
“I’m not having a mid-life crisis,” he muttered.
“Are you sure? Because that’s what this sounds like. What happened to Samuel Benson, billionaire bachelor forever?” Marcus sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me after one night with a stranger, you want to settle down.”
Sam swerved around cars and floored it as his anger grew. “Not just last night. For a while now. Life doesn’t feel right anymore, but last night…last night, it did. I’m sorry you can’t understand that.”
Marcus muttered something under his breath, but Sam missed it. “You didn’t give this chick your number, did you?”
“So what if I did?”
“Man, you paid half a million dollars last night—half! Then you gave her your number. What’s to stop her from trying to suck more money out of you? Especially if you’re going to start being this vulnerable, weak-minded man.”
Sam slammed on the brakes as he skidded into a parking spot along the curb. His hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, he counted to ten in his mind to control his temper. It had been years since he’d lost it, but hearing Marcus talk so casually about his life and things he knew nothing about pushed him close to the edge. “I’m not vulnerable or weak-minded. I simply realized I’m tired of being alone. Is that so wrong?”
His friend didn’t respond immediately, which gave Sam a few more moments to compose himself. It wasn’t Marcus’ fault. He knew nothing of how hard it was growing up in the Benson household. Sam refused to burden anyone with those horrible facts.
“Look, Sam, I’m your friend,” Marcus said seriously. “If you’re ready to make a life change, then I’ll be there to support you, but I’m also looking out for you. I’ve seen plenty of men brought down in this town by some gold-digger. I’m not saying she is,” he added quickly when Sam shot him a look, “only please be careful with who you get in bed with. Or don’t get in bed with.”
Sam hung his head. He held out his hand to his friend, and Marcus took it. “Sorry. After all these years, I’m still not used to having someone look after me.”
“I know it’s been hard since your grandfather died, but you got me. As much as you hate me some days,” he joked. “I promise I’ll stay out of it unless I think you’re in trouble.”
“That sounds good to me.” He pulled back out onto the main road. “How many presentations are we going over today?”
“Six, last I checked.”
“Local companies?”
“One national and two others looking to expand their marketing potential,” Marcus said.
The conversation turned to business, and Sam fell into the CEO role. Harley stayed on his mind all day, but his cell remained tucked safely away. He was content to let his hands remember the feel of her heated skin so soft at his touch, so supple and ready to be loved. It would have to do until he had a chance to see her again.
If she calls you, he whispered to himself during the presentations. For all you know, Marcus could be right.
But he wasn’t. Sam was uncertain how he knew, but Harley was not a gold-digger. She had been honest with him last night in that room when she’d said he saved her ass. Whatever drove her to put her body up for auction rivaled what had happened in his own life. He hoped money wasn’t the only help she needed and that she would reach out to him again so he could hear her voice at least one more time.
***
Sam slammed the phone down on his desk and scattered the aged playing cards everywhere in the process. “Damn it,” he muttered and sank to the floor to pick them up.
The past few days had blurred by, and before he knew it, nearly a week had passed since he’d seen Harley. He tried to push her face aside, but every time he closed his eyes at night, she was there waiting for him. It didn’t help his aggravation when a few of his accounts came up short and he had to have everything audited. It would take weeks to finish. Then there was the issue of the new accounts Devois opened. They still lacked pertinent information on them, and the man refused to call Sam back. He contacted Agent Higgins to update him, but the agent said there was nothing they could do until they had hard evidence the man was committing a crime. Sam could do nothing but tell Marcus to keep a close watch on any account with Devois’ name or business involved and wait.
The marketing side of the business ran into several errors that morning when the servers crashed and important documents vanished completely. He struggled to control his temper as the techs trying to fix the problem explained they would do what they could to bring everything back on line by the end of the day, but those documents were gone. The marketing team would need weeks to redo them, and in this business, time was money. He spent all afternoon on the phone assuring his clients everything was under control when all he wanted to do was go home and hide in his penthouse and pretend it was the night he met Harley.
He finished picking up the cards and shuffled them together out of habit before setting them carefully on his desk. As he sank back into his chair, rubbing his throbbing forehead, his cell rang. Cursing, wondering what else could go wrong this week, he snatched it off his desk and answered it.
“Samuel Benson,” he growled.
“I hope that’s not how you always answer your phone calls.”
“Harley?” He wasn’t sure if he believed she had called, but her warm laughter told him this was her.
“Yeah. Sorry it took me so long to call you. I’ve been working doubles every day since that night,” she explained. “I was wondering what you were up to tonight? I have it off for once. If you’re busy, though, I’ll understand.”
He wasn’t sure what to say and no sound came out. He was too worried he was hallucinating this moment after the terrible week he’d had.
“Or we can pretend I didn’t call if you actually didn’t intend to talk to me again,” she said quietly. “Right. I’ll go then.”
“No! Sorry, I’m just out of it. Shitty week,” he told her. “You have no idea how happy I am you called.”
“You are? You sure about that?�
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“Yeah, I am. How about I pick you up later. Around seven?”
“Seven sounds great,” she replied. “Do you mind if I wear normal clothes this time?”
He laughed with her. “Wear whatever you want. We’ll go somewhere comfortable. Text me your address?”
“Will do. See you later, hot pants.”
He hung up when she did, grinning widely. “Hot pants, cute,” he muttered and checked the address she sent him. It wasn’t the best part of town, but he had been in the same situation not so long ago. He had three hours to go before he could leave his office, change, and go pick her up. There was a great bar outside the main Vegas strip he frequented, a comfortable place with no tourists. Sadly, unlike other places, at the end of August, tourist season didn’t end. They visited year-round, and some days Sam considered moving his whole enterprise somewhere quieter. But that was a headache he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with.
“Hey, we have a problem,” Marcus said as he walked into Sam’s office. “And you look really happy all of a sudden.” He paused as his brow shot up to his hairline. “I’m going to assume a certain woman called you?”
“Yes, she did, and we’re going out tonight. Problem?”
“Not with that, but we do have an issue with one of our accounts. It’s Devois.” He handed Sam the reports and sat down hard in the chair across from Sam’s desk. “I triple-checked, and the changes and the large funds being moved are not from our end.”
Sam stared down at the reports. “It looks like the feds were right. He’s shifted an awful lot of money around in the new accounts and invested a hefty sum in nightclubs,” he muttered, wondering what the man was up to.
“He has been in the news quite a bit,” Marcus agreed. “What do you want to do?”
Sam stared at the flagged amounts and the discrepancies in the account. “Keep an eye on the accounts. Don’t do anything differently for now. I’ll give our FBI friend a call.”