by Peggy Hunter
Lacey continued. “Anyway, when my friend dared me to audition for Who Wants to be the Millionaire's Mistress?, I figured I might as well. It wasn't like anyone in the corporate world had any respect for me after my affair with Zachary hit the newspapers. Besides, even if I got dumped from the show early in the game, I'd have walked away with a bit of money."
Max suddenly understood. “You really didn't want me to pick you."
Lacey's head whipped around to look at him. “Hell no!” she said. “After Zachary, why would I want to be your mistress? I might have made a mistake once but I'm not stupid enough to do it again."
Anger made Max's blood boil. She compared him to the likes of Zachary Billings?
"I don't think I should have to point out that I'm not a married man,” Max said tightly.
"No,” Lacey replied angrily. “But everybody knows you're a user, a womanizer."
Everybody knows. Do they really? Max pondered that as the car slowed and made a right turn. They were near their destination.
He glanced at Lacey only to find her eyes continued to blaze with anger. She tipped her glass to her lips and tossed the rest of the whiskey back. As she swallowed the fiery liquid, she winced and placed the empty glass on the bar in front of her. She really was a pretty little thing. He loved the fire he saw in her eyes. He suspected it would take some time before he tired of her, maybe even a couple months.
When the limo slowed to a stop, Max said, “We're here."
Lacey's face flushed as she stared at him. “I hope you don't expect me to have sex with you tonight."
Max chuckled. Is she kidding? “You should've thought about that before you made comments to the press about my prowess."
* * * *
Lacey gasped when Bruce opened the limousine door and she gazed up at the mansion towering above. “You live here?” she asked, her voice a mere squeak.
When Max stepped out of the limo, he stood beside Lacey and peered up. “Yeah,” he said glibly. “I expect you're impressed."
Lacey snorted. “Why wouldn't I be? This place is amazing."
Max's looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Yeah, they always are,” he murmured.
Lacey's face flushed with shame. Of course the women Max brought to his mansion were as impressed as she was. And he was probably very used to each and every one of them wanting a piece of him, a piece of his grand lifestyle. He had no reason to think she was any different. Why else would a woman sign up for a cheesy game show?
"I inherited this monstrosity from my great-uncle,” Max said as he followed her gaze over the towering building. “I wanted to make my own mark,” he said, almost under his breath, “but my uncle insisted I live here while I do it."
Was it distaste she heard in his voice? She glanced at him as his gaze locked on the cold gray stone. His eyes were distant, his stance stoic. Was he unhappy living in such a grand home?
Lacey wasn't sure why she cared. A man like Maxwell Barton had no idea what it was like to struggle. What little she'd heard of him, she knew he'd grown up in an affluent family and began making money the minute he graduated from university. So what if the press was having a field day with him lately? He probably deserved every last scathing word mentioned in the papers.
The jingling of keys drew Lacey from her thoughts. Max peered down at her, keys in hand. “Shall we go in?"
Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit Lacey like a ton of bricks. “I guess so,” she said, her voice wavering.
Max grinned, no doubt sensing her hesitance. He took her hand and led her up the steps to the massive oak front door. “Don't worry, Lacey, I won't eat you,” he said as he pushed the key into the lock and swung the door open. His eyes darkened as he casually added, “At least, not unless you beg."
The moment his fingers curled around her hand, her body sizzled, her pussy soaked with anticipation. The words he uttered so casually echoed through her brain as he led her inside.
Not unless you beg.
She loathed to admit how his touch affected her. She closed her eyes and imagined Max's face buried between her open legs, lapping, sucking, devouring. When his tongue hit just the right spot...
"I'm glad you're impressed with the place,” Max said.
Lacey realized her fantasy had crossed into real life, knowing her gasp had been misread. “Uhm, yeah,” she said feebly, glad Max hadn't realized what she'd really been thinking.
He led her into a grand sitting room. Several hand-painted portraits adorned the walls but the huge fireplace with a solid marble mantel dominated the area. The room was tastefully decorated in manly earth tones and ornate antiques, no doubt created to reflect the current owner.
Max led her to an antique settee strategically placed in front of the fireplace.
"Sit.” It wasn't a request. She imagined, if she'd been in her right mind, if her body wasn't on full sensual alert, if her pussy wasn't quite so moist, she might have told him off.
Instead she sat and watched him move around the hearth. She examined his ass when he bent over to put wood into the fireplace. She giggled nervously at his muttered oaths when he attempted to light the fire and nothing happened and gasped inwardly when the fire finally lit and he turned to look at her. His eyes were dark and even more mysterious than she'd ever seen them before. She knew she should be afraid of him, she knew she should leap from the settee and run.
Now, Lacey. Go now!
But Lacey's eyes locked with his as he approached her and any thought of fleeing instantly left her mind. When his fingers curled around her hands and pulled her up, she knew her fate was sealed. She would not be able to deny Max what he wanted and knew what he wanted was her body.
Max's eyes narrowed as he pulled her close to him. When she felt his rock-hard body pressed against her, Lacey closed her eyes to ward off the sheer pleasure his touch evoked.
"Look at me,” Max said.
In spite of her best efforts, Lacey's eyes squeezed tighter. “I can't,” she replied, her voice a mere whisper.
She shivered when his hands slid over her back, down her side and then up again. His hands cupped her breasts, gently kneading until her nipples peaked. “You want me as much as I want you,” he said. “Open your eyes and look at me."
Lacey gave in ... but not completely. She managed to open her eyes but would not look beyond his chest. And oh, what a fantastic chest it is! She quelled the urge to rip his shirt open and splay her hands over him.
"There,” she said in a gamely manner, “my eyes are open."
Max chuckled. “Coward.” His hands left her breasts and circled her waist. “If you won't play the game properly,” he said softly, “then I'll have to enforce the rules."
Lacey was suddenly hurled back. She gasped audibly when she landed against the soft cushions on the settee. She grappled to regain her breath as Max knelt between her knees. “I can't play by the rules if I don't know what they are,” she said.
Max's hands were already sliding over her thighs, pushing her dress up to her waist. “I have to admit that I'm not very good at explaining things,” he replied, his voice deep, his eyes focused on her thighs. “I'm better at showing."
Lacey knew she'd lost a battle, one she wasn't certain she'd wanted to win in the first place. Max's hands slipped up and pulled her panties off. He threw them over his shoulder and placed his hands on her knees, slowly pushing them wider apart. His eyes blazed as he gazed at her mound. “Ask me,” he said, his voice thick with need.
Lacey knew what he wanted but could not give in to him. “No,” she replied.
Max gazed up at her then, making her heart stop with his piercing dark gaze. “You want me."
"No,” Lacey said softly. “I don't want you. I didn't want you when we were on the game show and I don't want you now."
Max sat back on his haunches but his hands remained on her knees. “Liar,” he said smoothly. “You want me to taste you."
Lacey was about to tell him how wrong he wa
s when his hand cupped her mound. Words failed when she felt the warmth of his hand envelop her.
"Sweet Lacey,” he said, his voice low and guttural, “don't fight me. Let me touch you."
Lacey felt mesmerized by his soft words and even more so by his gentle touch. In spite of what her mind told her, her body relaxed and her knees stopped fighting his pressure. She heard a soft chuckle as Max leaned toward her, his hand still cupping her mound. His mouth closed over her lips in a deep sensuous kiss. His tongue collided with hers, drawing her in, inviting her into an erotic dance. Lacey couldn't help herself; he was too powerful to deny.
And then, he slowly pressed two fingers between the lips of her pussy. She gasped when one finger slid over her slit while the other sought the tiny nub above.
Lacey pressed her head against the back of the settee when Max's finger found the mark. He stroked her relentlessly while his other finger teased her slit.
Lacey tried very hard to remind herself that Maxwell Barton was no different than Zachary Billings. Yet, Zack had never touched her this way. He'd never considered her needs before his own.
Lacey wanted to give herself up to Max's touch. Yet, in her heart, she knew she didn't want this; she didn't want to give in to another millionaire and his ruthless whims.
But oh, Max's scorching touch drew on her dark side, the side she never wanted to see again.
Lacey knew she was nothing to him, an unimportant person who would soon be cast aside just as she had been before. She knew it should matter to her, she knew she should care. But at this moment, all she wanted was for Max to drive his fingers inside her. Never mind that there would be hell to pay later.
Forgive me! I just want this man!
What was wrong with giving in to her needs just this once? Nothing. Nothing!
Lacey's hands landed on his solid chest. She reached under his suit jacket and pushed it over his shoulders before her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his crisp white shirt. She needed to touch his chest; she needed to feel his heartbeat under her palms.
Max suddenly pulled away. His eyes held hers as he undid the buttons of his shirt and cast it aside. Lacey sighed as she gazed at his chest ... so strong, so virile. She smiled up at him and held out her hands.
But Max took another step back. Lacey's eyes widened as he undid the fly of his pants and pushed them, and his briefs, over his hips. His movements were swift, almost methodical, as he cast them aside and braced his legs wide apart. Her eyes washed over him, starting at his chiseled face, over his sinewy chest, to his hair-smattered abdomen and then lower, to the throbbing rod. Lacey shivered with both desire and fear as her eyes took in the sheer bulk and length of Max's penis.
"Do you approve?” Max asked.
Lacey wasn't sure how to respond. She'd never seen a penis so big. It scared her a little yet excited her as well. “To tell you the truth, I'm not sure."
Max fell back on his knees between her thighs. “Maybe you need a little more assurance,” he said as his fingers slid over her slit again.
Lacey gasped as her head fell back against the back of the sofa. “Yes,” she said, sighing. “You might be right about that."
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Chapter 6
Max smiled as Lacey's hips bucked against his fingers. Yeah, she wanted him ... maybe even as much as he wanted her. The pungent scent of her moist pussy filled his senses as he gave in to her demand and pressed a finger into her moist core. She was hot and ready for him.
He silently wished he could replace his finger with his cock. It had been on full alert and ready to fuck her for months now. The moment he led her into his house, his cock was thick and ready, wanting to finally sink into Lacey's luscious pussy.
And now, here he was, finger fucking her. After months of wanting her, the moment seemed almost surreal. His cock was none too pleased with the current situation and Max knew he had to do something to turn the situation around.
He leaned up and pushed his free hand behind her neck. He pulled her to him while his finger continued to pound in her pussy. When she leaned toward him, his mouth locked over hers. She kissed him lustily, freely giving back what he offered. She moaned when he pulled his finger out of her.
Max pulled his mouth from hers. “Don't worry, Lacey, I've got something you'll like a lot more,” he said against her lips as his hands braced her knees and pushed them wider apart. “Once you get a taste of me, Zach Billings will be a distant memory."
Lacey's body stilled, almost as if she'd been flash-frozen. She peered up at him, her eyes blinking. “What did you say?"
Max grinned as he leaned over her. Alright, she didn't like what he'd just said. But she'd soon forgive him because she was about to be fucked by the best. Zachary Billings would be a long-lost memory after she felt his cock dive into her depths.
A faint whisper of guilt pricked his conscience. Lacey was one of those forever girls and a part of him hated to disappoint her. He wanted her now, at this moment, but there was nothing saying he'd ever want her again.
Ah hell, now wasn't the time to tell her. His need was too great. Max grabbed his cock and slowly rubbed the hard tip against her moist pussy. He frowned as Lacey's body stiffened. She lay still; his throbbing cock didn't seem to have the same effect on her as it did for every woman he'd ever fucked.
"What's the matter, babe?” he asked. “Don't you want me to fuck you?"
Max knew it was a ridiculous question. He'd never known a woman to turn him down. Still, considering Lacey's sudden reluctance, it seemed like the polite thing to ask.
Cool hands pressed against his shoulders. “Get off me."
Max almost laughed. Surely he hadn't heard her correctly. But when her hands continued to push his shoulders, Max reluctantly moved back. He rested on his haunches as he watched Lacey rise from the sofa and push her dress over her hips. Her face was flushed as she stepped away from him.
"What's your problem?” Max asked.
"My problem?” Lacey's face burned as she stared down at him. Her hands thumped against her chest in anger. “What's my problem?"
Max looked into her burning blue eyes. The woman is pissed off. Why? “Yeah,” he replied, “that's what I asked."
She shook her head slowly. “You throw Zachary in my face when we're being intimate and then wonder why I'm turned off? Can you be that stupid?"
So that was it. All right, he could backtrack. He rose and stood over her, gazing down into her blazing eyes. This was the woman who'd resisted him every week on the game show. This was the woman he wanted to conquer. This was a mere glitch, one he'd overcome quickly.
Max placed his hands on his hips as he planted his feet wide on the floor. Her eyes immediately cast downward and stroked his erect cock.
He chuckled inwardly. She may not like him personally, but she was certainly interested in what he'd brought to the bargaining table.
"Hey,” he said, amused by her lustful gaze, “up here."
It seemed to take every ounce of Lacey's strength to pull her eyes off his cock and finally focus on his face. “What?” she asked, clearly shaken and off-track.
She gave herself a mental shake, and Max saw her eyes darken as she remembered why she was so angry. She took another step back and peered up at him as though he was a monster. “You bastard,” she said between clenched teeth. “Zachary's your rival. Is that why you were so determined to have me as your mistress?"
Max guffawed. “Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically. “Zack and I might have a rocky history but I've never been desperate enough to pick up his cast-offs."
Lacey sputtered as she reeled backward. “Cast-off? You think I'm his cast-off?"
The sting of Lacey's hand didn't register at first. His hand went to his numb cheek, astonished she'd actually slapped him ... without cameras to catch the moment. Lacey turned on her heel and marched out the door.
It wasn't until she pulled the door closed that the sting of her slap finally registered in hi
s brain. He slowly lowered himself to the sofa, his fingers gently massaging his cheek.
Max looked up when he heard his chauffeur clear his throat. “What?” he asked irritably.
"Ms. Masters is walking down the driveway,” Bruce stoically supplied. “I believe she's determined to hitchhike home."
"That's ridiculous,” Max replied as he continued to rub his cheek. He'd never been slapped by a woman before and felt dazed. “Drive her home."
"I offered,” Bruce replied. “She refused."
"It's not safe for her to hitch back to the condo."
"I couldn't agree more,” Bruce said, “but Ms. Masters said she'd take her chances."
Max sprung from the sofa. “Get the car,” he said. “I'll make damn sure she doesn't take chances."
"Very good, sir,” Bruce said. He raised his fist to cover his mouth and coughed lightly. Max knew there was something the man wanted to say.
"What?” Max asked irritably.
Bruce's eyes cast downward. “Might I suggest you put your pants on before you come out to the car?"
Max grimaced. “I wouldn't have forgotten.” He turned to retrieve his briefs and pants.
There was no mistaking Bruce's amusement when he replied. “I'm sure that's true, sir."
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Chapter 7
Asshole! Shithead! Stupid, dumb-ass jerk!
As Lacey pushed passed the gates of Max's estate and walked onto the deserted street, she struggled to come up with more words that would suit Maxwell Barton.
None would come to mind but that was just fine. She needed to focus on finding a way home just now. She could take the time to come up with more names when she was safely home.
Home.
The word stuck in her mind. Home. A place she could shut out the world, where she could talk to herself and dance naked to reggae music. A place that included her beloved dog, Harry.
She didn't have a real home anymore. Zachary had seen to that.
Lacey bit back tears as she walked along the concrete sidewalk. Considering how she'd walked away from Max, she couldn't return to the condo either. After all, Max had purchased it for his new mistress.