by Larkin Rose
And she chose to dive headfirst into the fire.
Let everyone think she’d lost it. Let everyone believe whatever they wanted. She truly couldn’t care less. They didn’t have to walk in her shoes and they couldn’t share in her glorious experience.
“Sam, I can’t make you understand this situation. But I love you for worrying.”
“As long as you keep your will and life insurance policy up to date, it’s all good, I guess.” Sam spooned ice cream into her mouth, but Paige could see the worry in her eyes, in her tone.
Paige patted her hand. She adored that Sam was a worrywart. Other than her grandmother, she’d never had anyone who cared about her well-being. It was nice. Sometimes.
Out of habit for the last twelve hours, Paige checked the new cell phone again, waiting with bated breath for any word from Vinden. What would her next adventure be? Would it end with sex? Surely, the scavenger hunt was leading there. Where else could it lead?
She wanted it so bad. Needed to know how it compared to her night in New Orleans. Needed to know if it would yank her nerves into blissful heat.
“Will you stop checking that damn phone? You’re pathetic.”
“Pathetically horny.”
*
Hidden behind the edge of the office door, Mayson watched Paige subconsciously finger the necklace. She’d stopped by to touch base with the manager and go over any pressing matters and had been ready to leave the office when she spotted Paige and her friend passing the glass windows.
Mayson couldn’t stop smiling. She’d gotten to Paige and liked it. A lot. Even better, watching Paige caress that necklace like a lover’s stroke was the most erotic thing she’d ever witnessed. It was better than porn.
Her insides cramped as Paige pulled a bead into her mouth and sucked.
“So what happens next? Where is the next pit stop in this possible blood bath?” Paige’s friend inquired.
Paige switched from the candy back to her ice cream. Dark chocolate looked enticing smearing against her tongue. Not nearly as erotic as the night before.
Mayson shifted to ease the sting crawling between her thighs. This yearning was incredible. Fascinating, in fact. She’d been with plenty of women. Had watched them from afar, and up close. Yet none had the power to stir this kind of yearning in her.
She fished out the cell phone designated for Paige only and dialed the number, then grinned when Paige jerked up one phone, growled, then hastily fumbled with another phone.
The wicked grin that swept across Paige’s lips was even more enticing.
Mayson had never wanted to fuck a woman as bad as she wanted to fuck Paige right now. She wanted her fingers buried deep inside her, wanted every sound of her release inside her mouth. She wanted to swallow every moan and cry and whimper.
“Jesus, Paige, calm down. You can’t even act normal anymore,” Paige’s friend scolded her with a friendly smile.
Paige shushed her and punched a key on the phone.
Mayson watched Paige transform from a scattered mess to a calm, collected woman as the call was connected.
“Hello?” Paige’s voice sounded so calm, so sexy, opposed to the excited bounce she was doing in her chair.
“Can’t get you off my mind,” Mayson whispered.
Paige mentally swooned with Vinden’s whisper. She fingered the candy as spirals of heat whipped along her nerves. Her insides clamped, and pain seared her inner thighs.
Holy hell on earth. That exact reaction was what she craved. The uncontrollable fire. Her gut tightening. The tingles electrifying her body. She only wished she could describe it to Sam so she, too, would understand her desperation to be the key player in this game.
Sam gave her that melodramatic eye roll.
“Where are you?” Vinden whispered again.
Paige cuddled the phone to her ear and gave her the exact coordinates Vinden had given her the previous night.
Sam’s phone rang and she stepped outside the ice cream shop.
“I want to hear you come, Fedora,” Vinden whispered again, and torturous heat gathered in Paige’s pussy.
Heat crawled across her cheeks as she searched for a bathroom sign. She walked calmly across the floor when she wanted to sprint, to gallop, in leaps and bounds.
Inside the cubicle, she slammed the door shut and turned the lock. “Make me come, Vinden.”
Mayson closed and locked the office door, then leaned against it for support. She screwed her eyes shut with the sound of Paige’s sexy voice. Her nickname, Vinden, had never sounded so delicious rolling off someone’s tongue.
Vinden Gudinna. The wind goddess.
It was an honored title given to her by the people of a remote Swedish village after she erected an aquatic wind farm off the coast.
Had she known it would invoke that kind of reaction to hear it, she would have told every lover that was her name. Sure would have saved her the aggravation of watching them completely conform into greedy, gold-digging women when they heard the name Montgomery.
Would Paige turn out to be the same way? Was she a gold digger disguising herself as a person who actually hated money? Or despised people who had it? Mayson had seen all types. Ones who seemed to snub their nose at it, but were mentally buying Lamborghinis, mansions, and yachts. And then of course there were the ones who announced their greed immediately by requesting shopping trips and extravagant gifts. Those she let loose quickly. If they started out with greed, no telling where their sticky fingers would take them.
Finally, there were the ones who didn’t care about the money, as Paige posed to be, one way or the other. The ones who wanted to do for others, who wanted to change the world with it. Not that she’d found a woman like that. She seemed to be a diamond in the rough. Rare and unreachable.
“What are you wearing, Fedora?” Mayson snagged open the button of her pants and shoved her hand inside.
“Doesn’t matter. Finish me, Vinden. I’m on fire.”
Mayson smiled at Paige’s directness, at her eagerness, and pushed her fingers inside herself. She was soaked. All from the sound of Paige’s voice, from watching those fingers caress something as simple and sweet as a candy necklace.
What would Paige feel like clenching around her fingers, arching into her hand or against her mouth? Did she look for something specific with sex? Was that why she couldn’t find what she was looking for? Would Mayson be good enough for her? Would Vinden? Was she looking for something far greater than this game?
Paige flicked her clit and pressed the back of her head against the wall. Vinden’s whispers were too much. The sound of her heavy breathing disturbingly hot. This wasn’t her first rodeo with phone sex. But nothing like this. Those whispers were breaching every fiber of her body.
She wanted to crawl through the cyber connection and curl herself around the source of those whispers. Heat sparked and she flicked her clit faster, desperate for release.
“I can hear you, Fedora,” Vinden whispered again.
Paige flicked faster, her breathing hitched, and she moaned.
Vinden matched the sound, and Paige’s knees weakened.
“What are you doing to yourself? Tell me, Vinden. I need to see,” Paige begged her.
“Fucking myself. My fingers are deep and wet.”
Paige closed her eyes against the image. Another image sprang to mind. The image of a silhouetted stranger grinding against her, her pussy clenching tight around Paige’s fingers, the way her head had dug into the pillow as she came.
“I want my fingers deep inside you, Fedora.”
Paige pushed inside herself and hissed against the intensity. “They are. Fuck me, Vinden, fuck me.”
Vinden’s haggard breaths rushed through the line, and Paige fucked herself faster, harder, and deeper, shoving the palm of her hand against her clit in desperate drives. “Talk to me. I’m so close. So…fucking…close.”
Paige’s orgasm teetered as Vinden’s rushed breathing flowed through the line.
“My mouth is open against yours. Your fingers are fisted in my hair. My fingers are in you. Deep inside you. You’re so wet, clenching around me. You feel so good, Fedora.”
Paige shoved her fingers deep, thrusting into the palm of her hand.
“Let me hear you come, Fedora. I need to hear the sound of you.”
Paige’s orgasm ripped through her. “Oh fu…fuck! I’m coming. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m coming.” Spasms of pleasure bounced and tore through her. She bit her bottom lip to quiet herself.
Vinden hissed. “I’m coming…with you, Fedora.”
Paige slid down the wall, the sounds of Vinden coming whipping fire along her nerves. She couldn’t hold herself upright any longer. Her pussy spasmed around her fingers as she knelt.
Vinden’s breathing returned to normal and she whispered, “Eastside Theater. Tonight. One a.m. Be there, Fedora.”
The line went dead as Paige tried to gather her strength. She’d never been so boneless. Well, not since a plane carried her away from New Orleans.
Holy hell. Had that just happened?
She stood up, brushed down her skirt and blouse, then fluffed her hair out in the mirror. Her cheeks were suffused with a rosy glow. Orgasms looked great for her complexion.
After passing inspection, Paige walked out of the bathroom and down the short hallway on shaky legs. She kept her sights trained on the floor, putting one pump in front of the other, terrified her legs would give out and spill her to the floor.
Too focused on the operation of walking, Paige bumped into someone. She reached out to steady herself. “I’m so sorr…” She looked up into Mayson Montgomery’s face and took a step back.
A warm anger pushed alongside her already blistered nerves.
Mayson gave her that dimpled smile Paige was positive made hordes of women swoon right into her arms. Not to mention she probably need only say her last name and women no doubt raced to her. Bitch. Rich bitch.
Paige grumbled and attempted to scoot around her. It was rude, she knew, but she didn’t have a clue what she was supposed to say to someone like Mayson. Especially after their little meet and greet in her driveway, where the mere touch of Mayson had stirred heat.
Their past was still in Paige’s way. She clutched the long-held grudge like a life preserver.
Regardless of her inability to forgive and forget, they had nothing in common. Other than cashing Mayson’s donation once a year, there was nothing else she could think of to talk about. Not to mention the sight of her made that grudge shine bright and her insides quiver despite the fact she’d just come around her own fingers with Vinden’s seductive whispers guiding her every step of the way.
“So we meet again. This is becoming quite the habit.” Mayson extended her hand as if this was the first time they’d ever met. “I’ll consider this our formal introduction. It’s nice to see you.”
Paige stared for several seconds, unsure how to react. Would it be right to shake her hand with the same fingers that had just been deep inside herself?
I just masturbated with that hand. She’s going to smell me.
Paige succumbed to convention and placed her hand in Mayson’s. “We don’t have to pretend we like each other, Miss Montgomery.”
Mayson gave a gentle tug and pulled Paige several inches closer. “Are you stalking me, Miss Burton?”
Paige jerked her hand free, ready to unleash the hounds of hell. Stalking her? She’d have to like this money-laden bitch to stalk her.
“Stalking you? What in hell would I-—?”
Sam practically slammed into Paige and greeted Mayson with a sugar-sweet smile. “Hello, Miss Montgomery. So great to see you again. I’m Samantha, by the way.” She then turned a death glare on Paige.
“Good to meet you. Again. Would you ladies like to join me for an ice cream cone?” Mayson’s sinfully dark chocolate gaze rolled back on Paige. “Some of us could use a little cooling down. It’s rather hot in here.”
Did she seriously have to look so hot when she was being sarcastic? Why couldn’t she look like a normal billionaire? Whatever that looked like. But it sure didn’t look like this. It didn’t wear tennis shoes and denim and tight-ass T-shirts. That, Paige was sure of.
Paige hooked her arm through Sam’s. “Thanks, but we were just leaving.” She attempted to pull Sam away, but Sam locked her feet into place and refused to budge.
“We’d love to join you,” Sam said. “We’re sitting by the window. Please come join us.”
Paige fumed and threw Sam a hostile glare, then flounced to her chair and her now-melted ice cream. She didn’t want to share time with Mayson. Not after hearing those erotic whispers of her mystery woman. What the hell was Sam trying to achieve? She knew Paige couldn’t stand Mayson. Knew being around her gave her the hives.
Crap!
Sam eased into the chair across from Paige. “I’m doing this for your own good, sourpuss. You’ll thank me later.”
Before Paige could respond, Mayson set three cups of ice cream on the table. “Wasn’t sure what you ladies preferred. Rocky road seems to be the house favorite.”
Sam thanked her. Paige spooned ice cream into her mouth and mumbled, hoping the gesture would pass as a thank-you.
Mayson slid into the chair next to Paige. “I’d love to hear more about your charity.” She directed the question to Sam.
“Oh, not my charity.” Sam nodded toward Paige. “That’s Paige’s baby.”
Mayson turned those pretty eyes on Paige.
Paige lifted her chin a little higher. That’s right. Me, me, me. How’s that for thinking I do nothing more than grind a fucking stripper pole?
“I’m impressed,” Mayson cooed. “It’s no easy task to create a charity. Lots of work. And promoting.”
Like you’d know! Paige resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply nodded. Why did she feel so growly around this woman? Why couldn’t she let bygones be bygones? She felt like a petulant teenager. A scorned lover. She was none of those things. She was a grown adult. A mature, grown adult. Why couldn’t she act like it? What was it about Mayson that reduced her to immaturity?
“Did you change your mind about that date? You could tell me more about your charity.” Mayson’s dimple dipped in once again. “My treat.”
“Are you insinuating that I can’t treat myself, Miss Montgomery?”
“I imagine you can treat yourself quite well…Paige.” A satisfied smirk washed over her lips.
What the hell was she smiling about? Paige had to look away. How did Mayson manage to rub her the wrong way? The fact that in a single sentence she had implied that Paige couldn’t afford dinner? Or did she want to make sure Paige remembered that she was made of money? She didn’t give a shit about this woman’s vault or how much she had stored inside it. It was just money. It couldn’t buy Paige’s respect. Last she checked, Mayson had lost her respect with a simple push into a lovely park fountain.
“Paige would love to go out with you,” Sam said. “We were just discussing how we’d be honored to have your involvement for her next fundraiser. In less than two months.”
Paige whipped her head up to stare at Sam. Oh, hell no, she didn’t! She was going to need more than her remaining vacation days when Paige got done with her. She was going to need medical disability.
“Is that so?” Mayson smiled and spooned ice cream into her mouth. Paige couldn’t help notice the muscle flex on her bicep. Seriously, what the hell did this woman work out with? Concrete blocks? Bulldozers?
That fucking dimple appeared on her cheek once again.
Paige pulled her gaze away from those buff arms and abs and that lickable indention. “You should make a better habit of getting to know the charities you donate to.”
Mayson shrugged. “Agreed. I’m ashamed to say that duty calls me away from writing every check myself.”
“Yeah. I’m sure. Must be a hard life soaking up the rays on your private—”
Sam kicked Paige’s ankl
e.
“Ouch!” Paige eased back. “Monster.”
“Paige would love to give you all the details about the upcoming event. It promises to be spectacular. How about tonight?” Sam turned her hard glare back around, and it magically transformed into a sticky-sweet smile on Mayson.
“I have plans tonight, Samantha Renee Harrelson,” Paige cooed.
Sam ground her teeth, and Paige couldn’t help but smile. She never realized how cute Sam looked when her top was about to boil over.
“I’d love to hear more. Go on that date with me, Paige.”
Sam tapped her fingers against her ice cream cup, daring Paige to say no one more time.
Paige wouldn’t do it. Sam could browbeat her, kick her, claw her eyes out, and take all the days off she wanted. No hell way she was going out with Mayson Montgomery.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t bite,” Mayson said.
Paige prayed that Vinden would bite. Hard. Right between her thighs. “Pushing seems more up your alley, don’t you agree?” She squared her sights on Mayson.
“All the more reason to let me take you out.” Mayson spooned ice cream into her mouth and Paige fought not to look at those lips.
“I can’t be bought, Mayson. Your money means nothing to me, and it sure as hell can’t buy your apology.”
Mayson looked stunned for a second. She glanced across the table at Sam, then slowly diverted her sights back on Paige. “Now you’re implying that I’m a coward?”
“Aren’t you?” Paige could feel the air rush from the room as Sam sucked in a startled breath.
“Go out with me and find out yourself. What else do you have to lose?”
“My self-respect?”
Sam’s feet shifted and Paige jerked her leg back just in time to miss another kick.
“I promise to leave your self-respect intact.” Mayson laid her spoon in the empty cup, wiped her mouth with a napkin, then tossed it in the cup as well. She pushed out of her chair. “I’ll meet you at the club. Make it tomorrow night. You won’t regret it.”
Mayson walked away before Paige could scream out her objections. Not that she could have with Sam staring at her with those big, pleading eyes.