Acacia patted his arm, and handed him a towel so he could dry the rest of the drops off his suit.
“Why don’t you take the towel and go find Ms. Roberts,” she suggested. “Just to make sure there aren’t any hard feelings.”
“Oh I c–c–couldn’t.” He stammered, standing there staring at her.
“You can. You will,” she added with enough authority so she brooked no argument from him. She urged him back toward the door. “Remember they are just people,”
He mumbled something like, “Not in my neighborhood,” but he obeyed and went back into the ballroom.
Once he was out of earshot, and the rest of the cooking staff was decidedly busy, Acacia walked to the sink to wash her hands and cast Jackie a scathing glance.
“What?” Jackie asked innocently.
“Don’t, ’what’ me, you traitor!” she said, trying to hide a smile, as they shared the sink. “I don’t need your little nosy self–helping.” She made finger quotes in the air and then turned off the water.
“Why not? He’s just a person,” she added, blinking innocently, throwing Acacia’s own words back in her face.
“Yes he is. Just a guy. Used to getting his way. Used to a different girl every night,” she argued again. “He’ll do nothing more than chew me up and spit me out.” Trust me. I know this from experience.
Jackie dried her hands on the towel next to the sink and stepped over to the island lined with hors d’oeuvres, and mumbled, “Or lick you up one side and down the other.”
“Jackie!” Acacia gasped in surprise. Her shock mingled with the suppressed giggles of several of her other employees who were quite close enough to hear Jackie’s comment.
Not even Jackie knew of the night Acacia had with him, though she probably suspected something happened last June.
It was the Tony Awards, across the country in New York, where Radigan had been a presenter. They’d snuck away after the last statue had been awarded and spent the night doing every dirty thing she’d ever thought of and several she thought they invented.
And vanilla was definitely not his flavor of choice.
Acacia blushed before she could help herself, and left the kitchen in a rush, mumbling, “Get back to work…”
Chapter Two
Radigan walked to the wall in the main ballroom closest to the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. He was lost in thought, watching Acacia help clean up broken glasses, when his two bodyguards, Ed and Javier, appeared next to him.
Javier’s Cuban descent showed itself in every inch of his six–foot frame. Longer dark hair, pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, always got him attention from the ladies. His brown eyes, easy smile and tanned skin apparently didn’t hurt either.
Ed, short for Edgar, on the other hand was a bit of an enigma. Six–foot–four easy, bald, and muscled, he had startling blue eyes. They had to be something for Radigan, a strictly hetero guy, to notice them.
For big dudes, quite able to take care of themselves, they were incredibly adept at blending in.
Without him having to ask, they lowered their voices and filled him in.
“We escorted the couple to the front door, and then the in–house security took it from there. We hung around, just to make sure they left the property.”
Acacia disappeared into the kitchen with Jackie and the waiter in tow and Radigan gave his guys his full attention.
“Did they say anything else before they left?”
Javier smiled broadly. “The asshole threatened my manhood if I didn’t take my hands off him, does that count?”
Radigan shook his head, unable to keep his chuckle silent. “Everyone threatens your manhood. How many is my gauge as to whether or not you’re doing your job that particular day.”
They’d been with him for years and he trusted them implicitly.
With things no one else knew. And he wanted it kept that way.
His eye caught movement toward the kitchen door again, and he looked that way hoping to catch sight of Acacia. Instead the flustered waiter walked out, looking red in the face but determined.
“What else have you guys picked up tonight?” He knew they’d hear anything meant or not meant to be heard. Most people spoke freely in this kind of atmosphere, as if the help was there as a body only and had lost their ability to hear.
“About a certain brunette hostess?” Ed asked with a raised eyebrow and a completely straight face.
Radigan smiled.
Always a kidder.
“Innocence doesn’t go very well with your tie.”
“That’s not what your mama said when I was getting dressed this morning.” He didn’t miss a beat, and still didn’t crack a smile.
Javier barked out a laugh, and then reached up to squeeze the back of his neck.
“Pervert,” Radigan threw at Ed.
“Dickwad.”
“Children?” Javier chastised, as he tried to get his humor under control.
“Oh please.” Ed rolled his eyes. “Like you’re any better.” He turned his attention back to Radigan. “She inherited the magazine and everything else a couple years ago when her father died, which we already knew. Her uncle, the asshole from earlier, apparently thought her father was going to leave it to him for some dumbass reason, and he’s been gunning for it ever since.”
“Anything else?” Radigan wanted to know, directing a questioning glance at them both.
The guards looked at each other and Javier continued, lowering his voice even further. “She’s thirty–three, single. Never dates–anyone, and her employees have been so tight–lipped we couldn’t get anything else out of them.”
Radigan nodded, turning his attention toward the partygoers once again. “Keep up the questions. I want to know everything about her, down to her damn shoe size. There’s something about her I can’t shake.”
They were staring at him. He knew it–and ignored them. They’d already been over it. The two billion reasons he needed to stay away from her. One sweet, kinky round with her was supposed to be all he needed to get her out of his system.
All it had accomplished was to whet his appetite for more.
And what he had in mind was anything but vanilla.
He searched for her again and spotted her as she came out of the kitchen. Her cheeks were the tiniest shade rosier than they were before. He wondered what that was about.
Her eyes locked on his, as if she’d read his thoughts.
He raised his head in long–distance greeting and her cheeks pinked up even more. She hustled away as fast as her stilettos would carry her.
Interesting.
Jackie, the woman who’d seemed very inclined to help him earlier, came out of the kitchen with a grin. She spotted him and her smile widened. Instead of high–tailing it in any direction but theirs, she glanced around, then came toward them.
Radigan straightened from the wall, and told his guys. “Pretty sure I’ve just gained a new ally. Go keep an eye on my girl and I’ll get with you in a few minutes.”
The two of them took about three and a half seconds to disappear. About the same amount of time it took Jackie to reach him.
Her look of new–found purpose brightened his optimism about the party’s hostess.
Lying at this point wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so trying it wasn’t going to work. He needed someone’s help. But who knew what she had in mind with the look of sheer determination on her face.
Stunts. He’d done his own for as long as he could remember. He’d faced down fire, car wrecks, jumping out of a moving helicopter, and he’d take all of those combined if it meant he didn’t have to face the effective mother figure of the girl he wanted. The one he knew to be the thumbs up or the thumbs down on any relationship Acacia might want to get into.
She was focused and the timing couldn’t have been any better for him. As long as he could convince her of his intentions.
He only wished he really knew what those were. He
wasn’t taking Acacia’s repeated noes at face value anymore. He just hoped Jackie’s earlier energy remained.
She wrapped him in a tight hug, and he smiled. He’d finally found the help he’d been hoping for.
Acacia stood in the doorway of her house, waving goodbye to the last few guests. A line of limousines followed one after another down her drive.
She covered her mouth as another yawn plagued her.
The late hour was finally catching up with her and she was glad the house was quiet again.
Only Jackie’s vehicle sat in the circular drive. The valets had moved it before they left.
She followed the taillights of the last vehicle, wondering how she’d missed Radigan and his guys leaving. It was for the best, she was sure. If he’d been one of the last people she may have forgotten her resolve to stay away from him. Caving under the gorgeous stare of his blue eyes surely would have been forgivable though. It’d been a while since their encounter.
“It was a huge success,” Jackie beamed as she walked up behind her and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Are you hungry? I could make you something before I go.”
Acacia wrapped her arms around her and gave her a quick squeeze. “I couldn’t eat another bite. Honestly, the food was great. Best, I think, we’ve ever had.”
Jackie patted her back. “Couldn’t agree more. Want me back in the afternoon? Help you clean up?”
“I love you, and no. You deserve a couple days off after all of this the last few weeks.” She looked behind her through the archway into the great room, which was almost all picked up already. “The catering staff are top notch and had everything practically righted before they left. I’ll be fine, and you need to get going before we get talking again. You’re dead on your feet, so you have to promise to drive super careful.”
Jackie rolled her eyes with a smile. She’d been picking up all of her grand–daughters mannerisms lately.
“I will.” Jackie kissed her cheek. “Have fun.”
“My idea of fun tonight is going to bed right after a shower.”
Jackie tried to hide a smile and mumbled, “I sure hope so…”
Acacia gave her an odd look, but she was already down the steps.
She waved before getting into her car, and then it was her taillights Acacia’s gaze followed down the drive, and through the gate.
Jackie must have hit her clicker because the gate slowly closed behind her.
Silence greeted Acacia as she swung the door closed and locked it.
She turned off the foyer lights and enjoyed the sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood floors as she walked toward the larger room.
The feeling of slipping her high heels off, she enjoyed even more.
When she looked back up, “Holy shit,” slipped out, accompanied by a shot of adrenaline that spiked her bloodstream.
Her shoes clattering to the floor when she dropped them made her jump. But she never took her eyes off of the man leaning so casually against her baby grand piano.
“Radigan.” She meant for it to be accusatory. Instead it came out a whole lot breathy and made her think of 1–900 numbers.
“Acacia.” The way his mouth moved when he said her name made her want to get too close and ask him to repeat it–while he was balls–deep inside her.
She swallowed–remembering.
The same expression darkened his face when he came after her the last time. That glint in his eyes that merely hinted at the depths of his sensuality. A single heated glance spoke of the sexual prowess she was all too familiar with.
She was fucked.
Literally.
“I thought you left.” She wanted to roll her eyes at her duh statement but closed them for a second instead.
“The guys moved the vehicle around to the back of the house about an hour ago.”
As if on cue, the two security guards came through the door leading from the back of the house. They stopped several feet away from him.
The feeling of panic changed to something else in the pit of Acacia’s stomach.
Disappointment?
Relief?
Both maybe, as she realized what she thought was going to happen really wasn’t. Probably wasn’t ever going to, and her stupid fantasies were getting the best of her.
She bent, scooping up her shoes, and told her pussy to stop with the waterworks.
A few steps closer toward him revealed something she didn’t know what to do with. His eyes. They never changed.
She called them his bedroom eyes, because it’s the look he got when he was working someone’s panties off. At least when he did it with her the first time.
“Party’s over gentlemen. Why don’t you grab something to eat–”
“I’m about to.” Radigan’s voice licked her up the middle and her head angled toward him, despite the many times she’d scolded herself in the last year. He couldn’t have been as good as she remembered.
“Oh, hell no.”
Radigan laughed and came off the piano. “Hell, yes.”
She stood frozen as he approached, stalking closer one heavy footfall at a time. He took it slow, methodical about the way he moved toward her, but the other two men stayed right where they were. Watching.
“No.”
“Why not? We’re both single. No physical or mental issues to overcome unless things have changed since we were together last time. We’re both over the age of eighteen and neither of us are inebriated in any way. I feel a bit drunk on you and, if that’s the case, I want another shot.”
He reached her on the last word. His face changed. He grew serious, intent. “One time. It wasn’t enough.”
Her eyes widened, no matter how hard she tried to keep her face free of any emotion.
“Anyone else, once has been good. A taste, a sample to see if I wanted to indulge my–kinkier predilections.” He wrapped his arms around her trembling frame, pulled her head back by the hand he had in her hair, then licked her throat.
He towered over her. Kissed her.
But it wasn’t just a kiss, it was like a shot of tequila to an alcoholic, or a line of coke to a drug addict. Pleasure flooded her veins and she wanted more.
He bit her lip hard enough to make her moan.
“You’re under my skin. Deep. I have to have you again. I need it.”
Before she could suck in a startled breath he trapped her hands behind her back and she arched into him, panting close to his mouth. The distant sound of her heels hitting the floor vibrated up her spine.
She glanced at the two men across the room, trying desperately to hold onto some kind of reason.
They watched her, dual erections pushing against their slacks.
“Four’s–a–crowd,” she mumbled, as he nibbled up the column of her throat. Her body leaned against him while her inner pragmatist kept turning on and off a neon sign that read “No”.
“They aren’t participating–yet.”
Acacia jerked as if she’d been zapped with a cattle prod. “Yet?”
She looked at the large men standing there. So sexy. And they stared back at her, missing nothing. Knowing what he said was somehow inevitable. At least for him.
They made no move to join them, yet their presence…
It turned her on more than she thought she could be, considering her panties already clung to the lips of her pussy. He really was her kind of kinky and that scared the shit out of her.
She’d never been the source of any scandal.
No rumors hid in her closets. It was something she’d lived by her whole life, drummed into her head by her father.
The only time she’d ever broken that rule was with the man tucking her pelvis close to his, as he rubbed his hard shaft against the mound of her pussy. Teasing her, promising her that everything she ever wanted was within her grasp, if she was just strong enough to submit to it.
“I can smell the sweet scent of your dirty cunt. I want to coat my cock in it and make you suck it off.”
<
br /> Acacia’s brain checked out.
He palmed her cheek, bringing her face around to him again. She blinked and licked her lips. His taste was there, waiting for her, calling to every fantasy she’d never told a single soul about.
“Say yes, pretty girl. Take a bite of the apple. It’ll only hurt for the first little bit.
Giving into him was inescapable.
She knew it.
That was the reason she’d avoided him since he fucked her the first time.
It was like breathing. She could hold her breath for so long, suffocating in normalcy but eventually, sooner or later, she had to take another breath.
“Yes.” It came out a mere whisper, but he heard her.
His nostrils flared along with his eyes and he smiled.
Not the half smirk he normally wore, but a full smile that reminded her of what he looked like as he took her.
As he came.
“Say it again, Acacia. And say it correctly this time.” He squeezed her wrists, reminding her exactly which one of them was in control.
Her pussy quivered and her toes curled against the hard bamboo beneath her bare feet. His darker side made an appearance and her resolve to keep him at arm’s length disappeared.
“Yes. Yes Sir.”
His mouth was on her as soon as her lips puckered the last sound of the word. His word.
The only man she’d ever given that honorific to.
Radigan squeezed her ass, bringing her closer to him, and then his mouth devoured hers. He pulled her hair, angling her head where he wanted it.
What she wanted didn’t matter, what he could give her meant everything.
“This dress.” He pulled the fabric off one of her shoulders and then licked the skin it exposed.
She swallowed hard. “What about it?”
“It’s taunted me all night long.” He pushed the material off her other shoulder and it fell farther, landing in the crook of her elbow.
“How does your dress come off? I hope it’s easy or I’ll owe you one in about twenty seconds.”
Acacia blushed, hazarding another look at the tall bodyguards, and then focused on Radigan.
“Ten seconds,” he warned.
“A hidden zipper in the back. There’s a hook at the top. Release that and then you can slide the tab down.”
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