by Abby Gordon
The club closed at midnight he remembered. With guests usually going to one of the hotspots within a few blocks radius. Not too far to weave their way back in the wee hours of the morning. He had no plans on venturing beyond the hotel. Even if Tony hadn’t snagged that early morning radio show, Sean intended to spend the night hours in his room. With Jessica.
Chapter Two
She’d known the second he stepped in the room. The energy and light levels had increased. And the blood in her veins had heated. When she met his gaze, the fire in them stunned her. He wanted her. Sean Livingston wanted her in his bed. The idea nearly sent her into laughing hysterics. Right. As if. A superstar like him, who’d been married to one of the most gorgeous women in the world, who could get a dozen beautiful women with a snap of his fingers, wouldn’t want someone like her. She was just a bartender.
Not to mention she didn’t want the attention.
Still, watching him saunter over, pausing to murmur in one of his aide’s ear, Jessica knew a woman would always dream and want to be in Sean Livingston’s bed. If even half the rumors and his ex-wife’s hints were true, a woman could die in his bed blissfully satisfied.
Jessica had never been blissfully satisfied. She had, she reminded herself, barely been satisfied. A woman like her would…
“Hello, Jessica,” murmured that deep whiskey smooth voice. “I was hoping you’d be working tonight.”
“Always,” she replied with a smile. “Tea first?”
“Please,” he answered with a nod as he rested a forearm on the bar. “How have you been?”
“Doing well,” Jessica answered, opening the packet of loose-leaf tea. “Keeping busy.”
As she scooped the leaves into the bag, a hush settled in the room. It was part of the ritual in London. She would fix the tea. The nearby waiter would bring the sandwich over and Sean would point to a section. She would carefully cut a bite-size piece and eat it, then take a sip of tea. Thanking her, he would take them to a booth.
For the first half hour, the group nursed their first drinks while Sean relaxed and ate. Jessica smiled to herself as she wiped down the bar. One time, he’d even brought in a newspaper. When she’d refilled his cup of tea, she’d teased him about becoming a proper English gentleman.
Everything moved at the normal pace at first. Pippa was over the moon when he signed her magazine cover and posed for a picture with her. Sean even had her go get everyone else from the club staff and they all posed for a large group shot.
That broke up the routine and had Andy, the club manager, hustling back to scold everyone.
“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Sean interjected, rising in his booth. “I realized I hadn’t taken a group photo with everyone who’s taken care of me during all my visits and wanted to tonight.”
Unable to respond angrily for fear of insulting or upsetting the celebrity, Andy gritted his teeth, smiled, and nodded. When he turned around though, Jessica saw the mask drop and the anger in his eyes. He stalked over to the bar, moving behind it. Wary, she watched him. He stopped inches from her, putting a hand on her hip. She tried to move away and found herself cornered against the bar.
“Andy, I had nothing to do with—”
“Just see that it doesn’t happen again,” he hissed, his hand moving up and down her hip. “You’re in charge of this room and if you can’t control things, I’ll get someone who can.”
Watching the interchange, Sean frowned, his eyes narrowing when he saw Jessica step away from the man who trapped her.
“What the fuck?” he muttered, standing quickly and knocking into the table.
As glasses jiggled, Tony glanced up from a discussion he was having with Frank. He followed Sean’s gaze.
Andy marched out of the room but Jessica was visibly shaken.
“I’ll bet anything he copped a feel,” Frank observed. “Or threatened her in some way. A woman like Jessica…”
Sean left them, going behind the bar.
“Mr. Livingston,” Jessica gasped when she turned and saw him right behind her. “You shouldn’t be—”
“What did he say to you?” he demanded, struggling to keep his voice low.
“He doesn’t like things disrupted and…”
“He couldn’t take his anger out on me so he took it out on you,” Sean scowled. “The man’s an asshole.”
“He is,” she agreed easily. “But his cousin owns the hotel, so there’s not much anyone can do about him.”
“Did he touch you?”
The threat in his tone surprised her, as if he would chase after Andy if she said yes. She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t risk any attention and the limelight followed his every movement. Turning away, her gaze fell on the sealed bottles.
“Do you want your drink now?” she asked, eager to change the topic. “I’ve everything here.”
“Dammit, Jessica,” he growled. One hand landed on her shoulder and held her as he moved to face her. “Did he—”
“Sean, please, let it go,” whispered Jessica, a plea in her eyes.
Reluctantly, he nodded and realized it was the first time she’d called him by his first name.
“I don’t like it,” he muttered.
“I appreciate it, but I still have to work here when you’re gone.”
For a long moment, they stood still, bodies just inches apart. For a split second, Sean wished he could snap his fingers and make everyone else disappear. He could feel her body heat, see the way her breathing quickened and slight shiver and nose flare when he slid his hand down her arm.
“A drink right now sounds like an excellent idea,” he agreed, moving away to walk around the bar.
And knew how he’d get her up to his room.
****
It was another ritual. She got out the unopened bottles, broke the seals, and mixed his negroni. To a captive audience. Pouring it through the strainer into the coupe glass, she met his gaze across the dark wood and raised the glass to her lips. Was it her imagination or did the heat in his eyes intensify? His fingers brushed hers as she handed him the drink. Still keeping his eyes on hers, he turned the glass carefully. And deliberately drank where she had.
Jessica felt her face flush and her pussy tighten and dampen her panties.
Sean’s first drink was the cue to everyone else that they could cut loose and enjoy themselves. More women were invited into the room and Jessica was kept too busy to wonder why Sean kept looking at her as if she was the meal he wanted to gobble up. Pippa more than held up her end even as she too was run off her feet.
At eleven, Sean sent Frank over to request a second drink. Again, part of the ritual. She moved everything to the end of the bar so he could see her. Not daring to lift her head, Jessica focused on her work. Finished, she set the strainer aside, and for the first time since he’d walked in, left the bar. She stopped at the food table and lifted the lid of the smallest salver. Using the tongs, she took the meat pastry and set it on the plate. Selecting a fork and placing it on the plate, she carried them to his booth.
God, the woman could walk. How had he not noticed before the way her hips moved? Or the slight bounce in her breasts and how slender her thighs were? Slender but with a hint of muscle he could imagine wrapping around his waist. His cock woke up, quickly getting hard as she reached his table. Putting the plate down, she held his eyes as she raised the glass. Just before her lips touched the rim, her tongue darted out to wet them. His eyes narrowed as he saw the challenge in the blue depths.
His lust increased as she sipped then handed him the glass. Without waiting for him to indicate where on the pastry, she picked up the fork and used the edge to cut a piece. His gaze dropped to the plate in time to watch her select a piece of the meat. Then swirl it in the juices that dribbled out. Sean held his breath as the fork rose to her mouth and the meat disappeared between her full lips.
Again breaking the ritual, she bent slightly. Sean knew that if he turned his head he’d be able to kiss her.
Her breath stirred near his ear.
“Delicious,” she purred, putting the fork down and stepping away.
Holy hell, how the fuck was he supposed to get through the next hour or so? He had to wait for the club to close, give about ten minutes for stragglers to be herded out then he’d make his move. After that tease, she’d be lucky he didn’t rip her clothes off to get to her. Who would have thought watching a woman take a simple bite of food would make him so damn horny?
Jessica waited on pins and needles, wondering what his reaction would be. She couldn’t believe she’d done that, or said that. But leaning over, she’d seen his lap. Although the private room’s lighting was usually as dim as the main area, Sean preferred things a bit brighter along the booths, having told Andy he liked to be able to see people’s faces. There had been enough light to see the hard ridge along his thigh. Back behind the bar, Jessica let her imagination run riot.
When the lights came up, she held her breath. Leaving the booth as his people headed out, Sean just signed the bill, thanking her and Pippa for taking care of them and leaving the generous tip she had mentioned. Jessica bit back her disappointment and couldn’t even watch him leave.
At the door, Sean glanced back and saw her at the bar. While Pippa bustled about collecting glasses, Jessica had her head bowed, her eyes closed. Her hand came up and brushed her cheek before she turned away to clean up.
“Soon,” he murmured, smiling slightly.
Up in his suite, he waited ten minutes. He wasn’t going to wait longer because there was a chance she’d slip out before he called. Going to the phone in the living room, he picked it up and tapped the numbers for the club.
“Andy Munchson,” came the manager’s voice.
“Sean Livingston,” he said brusquely. “I want a nightcap. Have Jessica bring up another negroni.”
“Excuse me?”
“Is she still there?”
“Yes, but—”
“Good,” he overrode any objections quickly. Dammit, this was his one shot. “Tell her to bring it up.”
He returned the phone to the receiver and paced about. Calm and cool, he told himself. Suave and sophisticated. And none of that included grabbing her when he opened the door, dragging her into the room and throwing her to the floor to fuck her. Although that was what he wanted to do.
“No caveman antics,” he muttered, working the buttons of his shirt. “Seduce her, dammit. You’ve a reputation as a great lover. Show her.”
“Bloody hell,” Andy slammed the phone down. “Jessica!” His shout preceded him into the private room. “Jessica, Livingston just called. He wants a nightcap of another negroni and he wants you to bring it up. Now.”
Jessica took a deep breath and slowly turned, hoping no one could see how her entire body was vibrating. How clever, she thought. How very simplistically clever.
“Of course,” she replied, leaving the table she’d been cleaning and going to the bar.
“I’ll add it to his room bill,” Andy said pompously, turning to leave the room. “We can’t let people get away with not paying their full due.”
Jessica rolled her eyes, making Pippa giggle.
“Could someone make him pay his full due?” she whispered.
“I wish,” Jessica muttered, quickly assembling the drink and shaking it. “But it will never happen. His sort never deal with consequences unless it’s so public and bad they can’t get away with it.”
“I’ll dream of that then,” Pippa replied and hitched herself onto a stool. “So that’s it?”
Jessica placed the strainer and concentrated. She had to act as normal as possible.
“That’s about it. How was your first night taking care of a big star?”
“Fantastic. I loved it. They really were all so polite and kind.” Pippa sighed and propped an elbow on the bar. “Especially that Tony guy.”
“That’s Sean’s PR handler,” Jessica told her. “He’s at least ten years older than you.”
And so, she reminded herself, was Sean that many years older than she was.
“So?” Pippa grinned. “He’s just that much more experienced in all sorts of things.”
Chuckling, Jessica took a small tray and put the coupe glass on it.
“You think you‘d be game for that with him?” That surprised Jessica as Pippa hadn’t expressed interest in having a boyfriend or sex in any way in the years they’d been friends.
“With him, I might give it a try,” replied Pippa, sliding off the stool and walking with her out of the room. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” answered Jessica, going left to the elevator used for room service.
The car was right there and she tapped the number for the penthouse level. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she really was ready for what she knew would happen.
Turn down having sex with Sean Livingston? So not happening. But after?
The doors slid open and she stepped out into the hall. Taking a deep breath, she headed down the full length of the corridor, smiling at the sounds coming from various rooms she passed. Reaching the suite, she knocked twice.
The door opened immediately. Jessica’s eyes landed on the well-muscled, tanned chest and her mouth went dry. Her brain shut down.
“Jessica? Are you all right?”
Jerking, she bobbed her head.
“Yes, sorry about that. It’s just…”
His fingers went to her elbow and he pulled her into the room. Standing inside, she swallowed and tried to stay calm as he chained and locked the door. Had he any pants on? She hoped so, because otherwise it would be too tempting to drop to her knees and beg him to let her touch his cock.
He came up behind her, nuzzling her neck as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her ass against his groin. Closing her eyes she felt a tremor sweep through the hard length nestled between her ass cheeks. And nearly dropped the tray.
“Oops,” she gasped.
Chuckling, Sean took the tray, set it on the entryway table, picked up the glass, and put it to her mouth.
“Drink,” he whispered in her ear.
Obediently, she parted her lips. He held it there, forcing her to take more than she usually did. This time the shudder was due to the alcohol. His fingers tangled in her chignon and turned her head. His dark brown eyes were half-closed as he raised the glass, drinking from the same spot she had. Setting the glass on the tray, he leaned forward. His lips brushed her ear.
“Delicious,” he murmured, chuckling at her shiver. “Jessica, you know why I called, don’t you? Why I really wanted you here?”
“I think so,” she managed.
His mouth curved slightly as his hands turned her to face him, holding her hips against his. His erection pressed against her pussy. Jessica felt her muscles contract as she gushed.
“This make it any clearer?”
His right hand caught the back of her head again as his mouth came down on hers. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned into him. Her hands went to his waist then stroked up his back. His tongue swept in, wrapped around hers, and tugged. His left hand moved down her back to her ass. Fingers gripped and held her still as he ground against her.
A moan rose in her throat as he simulated fucking her. His mouth lifted slightly and she gasped in air.
“Clearer?”
His voice vibrated against her throat as he nibbled his way to the collar of her shirt.
Her hands caressed his chest, fingers flicking over his flat nipples. At his swift inhale, she tilted her head to see his face. Her palms smoothed over his shoulders then along the back of his head the way his had. Tangling in the thick hair, she tugged his head closer.
“I trust you,” she whispered then kissed him.
Chapter Three
I trust you.
As he let her control things for a moment, the words echoed in his mind. Trust. Such a simple word that meant so much. It was, he knew, why he wanted her as the bartender when he stayed in London. T
here was something solid and sure about her. With her quick eyes and intelligence, she knew details about him others wouldn’t have picked up. After the poisoning in Athens, she hadn’t batted an eyelash when he first returned to London. She’d had him come to the bar, watching her unseal the bottles as she mixed the drink. But it had been when she’d taken the first sip that he knew she understood. That she got it. When the woman he’d been serious with was rather publicly exposed by the wife of the man she was found in bed with, Jessica had suggested he have tea and something to eat before drinking anything. Of course, that was mostly, he admitted to himself, because the night before he had worked his way through most the alcohol in the minibar of his suite. Subtly. Carefully. Making sure not to step beyond her job or add insult to an already damaged ego.
And she had taken care of him. Ordering the tea and roast beef sandwich platter, mentioning that she’d have it in the room on his next visit. And then, in a cliché about bartenders, had listened to his still hungover self-pity.
And never breathed a word of it.
Trust.
Romantics might say it wasn’t sexy, but he suddenly realized how essential it was.
He could have any woman in the city he wanted. But he wanted the one woman he could trust. And she trusted him. To take care of her. To pleasure her. To not hurt her. To not ruin her life because she’d stayed after bringing the drink.
Trust. In his entire life, there were a handful of people he trusted. Most of them were in rooms along the hall. Two more, and the only females, were in the states. His ex and his daughter.
And now Jessica.
His arms held her to him and he enjoyed the kiss. And, man, did the woman know how to kiss. Lips and tongue teased, teeth nibbled on his lower lip, and then she got serious about it. Covering his mouth, her tongue slipped between his teeth. And explored. And wrapped around his tongue. And tugged.