Flames of Attraction: Quade's BabiesTall, Dark...Westmoreland!

by Brenda Jackson

  And at the moment she was safe. Terrence had this man’s phone number, and the hotel was definitely a respectable one. And it was one she had selected, not him. But she had to admit, she felt a little silly with the two of them still wearing their masks. At least she had taken off her name badge.

  “So, Wonder Woman, what’s your favorite color?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. He evidently felt the tension and was making an attempt to ease it. “Lavender. What’s yours?”

  “Flesh tone.”

  She grinned. “Flesh tone isn’t a color.”

  “Depends on who’s wearing it,” he said softly, and then his eyes flickered to her lips. She felt the intensity of his gaze just as if it was a soft caress. Suddenly, she felt the need to moisten her lips with her tongue.

  “I wish you hadn’t done that,” he whispered huskily, leaning his body forward to the point where more of his face was in the window, just inches from her face.

  A breathless sigh escaped from her lips. “What?” she asked in a strained voice.

  “Tasted your own lips. That’s what I want to do. What I’m dying to do.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  Reggie thought that was a dare if ever he’d heard one. Deciding to take her up on it, he leaned his body in closer. She was tilting her head toward his face when suddenly his cell phone rang.

  Damn. He reluctantly pulled back and pulled the cell phone from his jacket.

  Olivia took that time to take a deep breath, and then she listened to his phone conversation.

  “Yes?” he said into the phone.

  She watched a huge smile brighten his face, and at the same time, she felt intense heat gather at the junction of her thighs.

  “Thanks, man. I owe you one,” he said. She then watched as he clicked off the phone and put it in his pocket. He glanced over at her. “Okay, Wonder Woman. Everything is set. We’re on the sixteenth floor. Room sixteen thirty-two. Ready?”

  She exhaled slowly. A part of her wanted to tell him that, no, she wasn’t ready. She wanted to know how he’d arranged everything from a parking lot. Another part of her needed to know how he was capable of making her feel things that no other man had ever made her feel before. How was he able to get her to take risks when she was the least impulsive person that had ever lived? At least she had been risk averse until she’d seen him at the party tonight.

  She met his gaze, knowing this would be it. Once she got out of the car and walked into that hotel with him, their night together would begin. Was that what she really wanted? He was staring at her, and his gaze seemed to be asking her that same question.

  She drew in a deep breath and nodded her head and said, “Yes, I’m ready.”

  He then opened the car door for her. “You go on ahead, and I’ll follow within five minutes. The bank of elevators you should use is the one to the right of the check-in desk,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  He watched as she placed the strap of her purse on her shoulder before walking away. He smiled as she gracefully crossed the parking lot and headed toward the entrance to the hotel. He couldn’t help but admire the way she looked in her dress, a silky number that swished around her legs whenever she made a movement. And she had the legs for it. Long, shapely legs that he could imagine wrapped around him, holding him inside her body during the heat of passion.

  He was so into his thoughts that when she suddenly stopped walking, his heart nearly stopped beating. Had she changed her mind? Moments later he gave a deep sigh of relief when he realized she had stopped to remove her mask. He wondered if she would take the risk and turn around to let him see her face, voluntarily revealing her identity. He got his answer when she began walking again without looking back. He had a feeling that that was how the entire night would go. Identities and names would not be shared. Only passion.

  He would respect her wishes, and when he joined her in the hotel room, his mask, too, would be back in place.

  There was no doubt in his mind that this would be a night he would always remember.

  Chapter 2

  Olivia was grateful that no one seemed to pay her any attention when she walked into the huge lobby of the Saxon. It had always been her dream to spend a night in what had to be one of the most elegant hotels ever built. It was more stylish and extravagant than she had expected. There were only a few Saxons scattered about the country, in the major cities, and all had a reputation of providing top-quality service.

  When she stepped onto the elevator that would carry her to the sixteenth floor, she couldn’t help but again wonder about the man behind the mask and the connections he seemed to have. Reservations were hard to get because the hotel was booked far in advance, even as much as a year.

  As she stepped out of the elevator and walked down the spacious hall, she studied the decor. Everything had a touch of elegance and class. With an artist’s eye, she absorbed every fine detail of not only the rich and luxurious-looking carpet on the floor but also of the beautiful framed portraits that lined the walls. She would bet a month of her salary at the Louvre that those were original Audubon prints. If they devoted this much time and attention to the hallways, she could only imagine what one of the rooms would look like.

  She wondered what Jack Sprat thought of her taste, since she was the one who’d guided him here. Of course, she would pay tonight’s bill, since coming here was her idea. Connections or no connections, this place was her choice and not his, so it would only be fair. The last thing she wanted to do was come off as a thoughtless, high-maintenance woman.

  Moments later she stood in front of room 1632. She didn’t have a key and could only assume the door was unlocked. There was only one way to find out. She turned the handle and smiled when it gave way without a problem. She slowly opened the door and stepped into the room. Quickly closing the door, she glanced around, her eyes widening. This had to be a penthouse suite. She hadn’t expected this, wasn’t even sure she would be able to pay for it. She had figured on a regular room, which, though costly, would have been within her budget.

  She was paid well, and loved Paris, but eventually she intended to return to the United States. She planned to open an art gallery in a few years, and that took money. Every penny she earned went into her special savings. Her father and brothers had promised to invest in the venture, but she felt that it was her responsibility to come up with the majority of the capital for her gallery. This little tryst was going to cost her. She would have to dip into her savings to pay for this suite. She wondered if just one night with a stranger could possibly be worth the sacrifice.

  She crossed the room, drawn to the stately furnishings. She had stayed in nice hotels before, but there was something about a Saxon that took your breath away. Besides the elegant luxury that surrounded you, there was also the personalized service, culinary excellence and other amenities, which she had often heard about, but had yet to experience.

  She walked through the sitting area to the bedroom. Her gaze moved from the plush love seat in the room to the bed. The bed was humongous and stately; the covering was soft to the touch. It felt as if you could actually lose yourself under it. The bedcoverings and curtains were done in an elegant red and a single red rose had been placed in the middle of the bed. Very romantic.

  The connecting bath was just as stunning, with a huge Jacuzzi tub that sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a wall-to-wall vanity the likes of which she’d never seen in a hotel. Everything was his and hers, and the bathroom was roomy, spacious.

  Nervously, she walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  When she was growing up, people had often said she was spoiled and pampered, and in a way, she had been. Being the only girl in the house had had its advantages. She had been only three years old when her mother left her father, ran off with a married man and destroyed not one, but two families. She would always admire her father for doing what had to be done to hold their f
amily together. He’d worked long and hard hours as a corporate attorney and still had been there for her piano recitals and art shows and her brothers’ Little League games. And one year he had even gotten elected president of the PTA. It hadn’t been easy, and everyone had had to pitch in and help. And she could now admit that her brothers had made it easier for her.

  Leaving home for college had been good for her. Against her father’s and brothers’ wishes, she had worked her way through college, refusing the money they would send her. She’d needed to encounter the real world and sink or swim on her own while doing so.

  She’d learned how to swim.

  She glanced at her watch. Chances were that Jack Sprat was on his way up, so now was not the time to get nervous. She had come on to him at the party, and he had come on to her. They were here because a night together was what they both wanted. So why was she thinking about hightailing it all of a sudden? Why were butterflies flying around her stomach? And what was with the darn goose bumps covering her arms?

  She stood and began pacing. He would be here at any moment, so she stopped and took the time to put her mask back on. In a way she felt silly, but at the same time mysterious.

  Olivia glanced at her watch again. She felt her body heating up just thinking about what would happen when he did arrive. To say she was fascinated by a complete stranger would be an understatement. If anyone had told her that within less than forty-eight hours of returning to Atlanta, she, Olivia Jeffries, would be involved in an affair to nowhere, she would not have believed them. Usually she was very conservative, but not tonight.

  She caught her breath when she thought she heard footsteps coming down the hall. An anticipatory shiver ran down her spine, and she knew that in just a minute he would be there.

  * * *

  Reggie walked down the hallway, deep in thought. Some people engaged in casual affairs to pass the time or to feel needed. He was not one of them, and for some reason, he knew that the woman waiting on him in the hotel room wasn’t, either. He would admit that there had been a few one-night stands in his history, back in the day at Morehouse, when he hadn’t had a care in the world other than studying, making the grade and getting an easy lay. But now as a professional who owned a very prestigious accounting firm and as a political candidate, he picked his bed partners carefully. He hadn’t been involved in any long-term affairs since right after college—and that disastrous time with Kayla Martin a few years ago, which he preferred to forget. He’d pretty much stuck to short-term affairs.

  His family constantly reminded him he was the last Westmoreland bachelor living in Atlanta, but that was fine with him. Settling down and getting married were the furthest things from his mind. He was glad it wouldn’t be an issue in his campaign, because his opponent, Orin Jeffries, was a long-term divorcé, and from what he’d heard, the man had no plans of ever remarrying.

  Finally, he stood in front of room 1632. Only pausing for a brief second, he reached out to open the door and then stopped when he remembered his mask. Glancing up and down the hall to make sure it was empty, he pulled the mask out of his pocket and put it on. Then, after drawing a deep breath, he opened the door.

  * * *

  The moment he opened the door, his eyes, that is, the portion of them that Olivia could see through his mask, met hers. They felt possessive, as if he was stamping ownership on her, when there was no way he could do that. He didn’t know her true identity. He knew nothing about her other than that it seemed her need for him was just as elemental and strong as his need for her. It was a tangible thing, and she could feel it, all the way to her toes.

  Yet there was something in the way he entered the room, not taking his eyes off her as he pushed the door closed behind him. And then giving the room only a cursory glance. Without a single word spoken between them, he swiftly crossed the room and drew her into his arms.

  And kissed her.

  There was nothing to be gained by any further talking, and they both knew it. And the moment his mouth touched hers, lightly at first, before devouring it with a hunger she felt deep in her belly, she moaned a silent acceptance of him and their night together.

  This was sexual chemistry at its most potent. He was all passion, and she responded in kind. She kissed him, not with the same skill and experience he was leveling on her, but with a hunger that needed to be appeased, satisfied and explored.

  The kiss intensified, and they both knew it wouldn’t be enough to quench the desire waiting to be unleashed within them. Sensations were spreading through her, seeping deep into her bones and her senses. Urges that she had tried desperately to control were now threatening to consume her.

  He reluctantly pulled his mouth away, and she watched as a sensuous smile touched his lips. “Tonight is worth everything,” he whispered softly against her moist lips. “Not in my wildest imagination would I have thought of this happening.”

  Neither would I, Olivia thought. The masks were silly, but they had a profound purpose. So were the pretend names. With them, they were free to do what they pleased, without inhibitions or thought of consequences. If their paths were to cross again, after tonight, there would be no recognition, no recrimination and no need for denials. What happened in this hotel room tonight would stay in this hotel room tonight.

  Reggie’s gaze studied Olivia as he fought to catch his breath while doing the same for his senses. Kissing her, tasting her lips, had been like an obsession since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. The shape, texture and outline of her lips had a provocative effect on him. Some men were into the shape and size of a woman’s breasts; others into her backside. He was definitely a lips man. The fullness of a pair, covered in lipstick or not, could induce a state of arousal in him. Just thinking of all the things he could do with them was enough to push him over the edge.

  And then, losing control, he leaned down and kissed her again, and while his tongue dominated and played havoc with hers, he felt her loosen up, begin to relax in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck while her feminine curves so effortlessly pressed against him in a seamless melding of bodies. They fit together perfectly, naturally. There was nothing like having soft female limbs and a beautiful set of lips within reach, he thought.

  The hand around her waist dipped, and he felt the curve of her backside through the gown she was wearing. A firm yet soft behind. He needed to get her out of her gown.

  Pulling his mouth away, he swept her into his arms. At her startled gasp and with a swift glance, he met the eyes staring at him through the mask, and then his lips eased into a smile. So did hers. And with nothing left to be said, he walked to the bedroom.

  Instead of placing her on the bed, he held her firmly in his arms and sat down on the love seat, adjusting her in his lap. She pulled in a deep breath and caught hold of the front of his jacket.

  He smiled down at her. “Trust me. I’m not going to let you fall.” She loosened her hold on him yet continued looking into his eyes, studying his features so intently that he couldn’t help asking, “Like the part you can see?”

  She smiled. “Yes. You have such an angular jaw. It speaks of strength and honesty. It also speaks of determination.”

  He raised a brow, wondering how Wonder Woman could tell those things about him from just studying his jaw. He stopped wondering when she reached out and her finger traced that same jaw that seemed to fascinate her.

  “It’s rigid, but not overbearing. Firm, but not domineering.” She then smiled. “Yet I do see a few arrogant lines,” she said, tapping the center of his jaw.

  He had sat down with her in his arms, instead of placing her on the bed, so as not to rush things with her, to give her time to collect herself after their kisses. He refused to rush their lovemaking. For some reason, he wanted more, felt they deserved more. He was never one for small talk, but he figured he would take a stab at it. But now her touch was making it almost impossible not to touch. Not to undress her and give her the pleasure they both wanted. And then it c
ame to him that the reason he was here with her had nothing to do with lust. He’d gone months without a woman warming his bed before. What was driving him more than anything was her appeal, her sexiness and his desire to mate with her in an intimate way. Only her.

  He stood while cradling her tightly in his arms and moved toward the bed and gently placed her in the middle of it, handed her the rose and then he took a step back so she could be in the center of his vision. He wanted the full view of her.

  Her shoulder-length hair was tousled around her face, at least the part of her face he could see. Her dress had risen when he’d placed her on the bed. She had to know it was in disarray and showing a great deal of flesh, but she didn’t make a move to pull anything down, and he had no intention of suggesting she do so. So he looked, got his fill, saw the firmness of her thighs and the shapeliness of her knees. And he couldn’t help but notice how the front of the dress was cut low, showing the top portion of her full and firm breasts. He was a lips man first and a breasts man second. As far as he was concerned, he had hit the jackpot.

  Olivia wondered how long he would stand there and stare. But in a way, it reassured her that he liked what he saw. No man had taken the time to analyze her this way. She might as well make it worth his while. She placed the rose to one side and reached down and unclasped her shoes before slipping them off her feet. She tossed one and then the other to him. He caught them perfectly, and instead of dropping them to the floor, he tossed them onto the love seat they had just vacated.

  She was surprised. He had recognized a pair of stilettos by Zanotti. They had been another whim of hers. Shoes were her passion, and she appreciated a man who knew quality and fine workmanship in a woman’s shoes when he saw it. He moved up another notch in her book.

  Now it was time to take off the rest. Because she never wore panties with panty hose, that would be easy. Instead of removing her panty hose last, she decided to take them off first. He wouldn’t be expecting it, and the thought of catching him off guard stirred something inside of her. With his eyes still on her, she lifted her bottom off the bed slightly to ease down her panty hose, deliberately giving him a flash to let him know that once they were gone, there would not be any covering left. After she’d removed them, she rolled the hose up in a ball and tossed them to him. As with her shoes, he made a perfect catch, and then, while she watched him, he brought the balled-up nylon to his nose and took a whiff of her scent before placing it in the pocket of his jacket.