Talia couldn’t help feeling flattered that he remembered anything about her. In the great sea of women that must have been his sex life—regardless of what he claimed about “settling down”—to stand out seemed like some kind of honor.
“And I remember you’ve got one of the best cocks I’ve ever had,” she said, growing breathless.
“Are you touching yourself again?” he said, his voice husky.
“I’m dipping my fingers into my pussy now,” she whispered. “Imagining they’re you.”
He exhaled again. “I’m unzipping my jeans….I’ve got my cock out now…. I’m stroking it…. I want to push it inside you….”
Oh yeah, now he was talking.
“What position are we in?”
“You’re under me while I thrust into you, playing Little Miss Innocent, your legs locked around my hips. You’re so hot, so tight…. You’re such a tease. You’ve made me wait months for this….”
Talia smiled as she stroked herself. His description was so far from the real her, she almost laughed. But how could he know otherwise, when all they’d ever done was have sex a few times?
“And now I want to make you wait,” he said, “so I pull my cock out of you, and I bury my face between your legs.”
“Mmm…” She could feel the tension building to the bursting point inside her as she moved closer to orgasm. “My favorite punishment.”
“I thrust my tongue inside you until you’re squirming and begging for me to finish you off.”
“And do you?” she asked, breathless, on the verge.
“I lift you up from the bed, and you mount me. You ride my cock until we’re both ready, and—”
“I’m coming,” she cried.
Her inner muscles began to contract, and a wave of white-hot pleasure washed over her.
Talia could hear by Ken’s own gasps that he was, too, and a few moments later, when her quaking had settled, she smiled to herself and stretched. Her body was primed and ready for whatever Ken could give her. “Why are we doing this on the phone, when we could be doing it in person?”
Ken laughed. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
“Give me directions to your place,” Talia said, thrilled that her evening was finally going somewhere. “And I’ll be there in an hour.”
6
ZANE COULD THINK OF TEETH he’d rather have removed than attend the typical “aren’t we great journalists” event. But having skipped out on the past few, and being on both Gil Beringer and Jack Hiller’s shit lists, he knew Mediacom’s yearly awards ceremony tonight was a must-attend. Which was fine, since it gave him an excuse to distract Naomi a little more while at the same time showing Jack what a good boy he was being by spending an entire evening getting advice from his image consultant.
So here he was, standing outside the Ritz-Carlton, feeling stiff in his tux and waiting for Naomi, who’d insisted they meet at the hotel instead of riding together. He had a good hunch she was afraid of being alone with him for too long, but she’d failed to calculate that the Ritz-Carlton was full of hotel rooms, and if Zane had his way, he’d have her naked in one of them before the night was through.
A cab pulled up to the curb a few minutes later, and the door opened. First came a pair of legs, long and silky-smooth, with feet clad in glittering black heels that strapped around the ankles, then came the rest of Naomi. He took in the sight of her wearing a tight black dress shimmering with beads and felt himself grow warm around the collar. Maybe they could skip the awards ceremony and go straight to a private room—
“Hi,” she said, smiling as the cab pulled away. “Sorry I’m late.”
“I think I can forgive you,” he said, closing the distance between them. When she was a few feet away, he extended a hand to her and pulled her closer. “If you kiss me.”
She smiled and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. “No public displays of affection. It wouldn’t do a thing to improve your playboy image.”
“I didn’t realize I’d have to stop being a playboy, too.”
“You just have to stop acting like one in public, if you want to conform to Mediacom’s expectations of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No more dishonoring the virtue of princesses, no more making out with women in public, no more sex scandals, period—international or otherwise.”
He sighed. “Sounds like loads of fun.”
She took a step back, making the distance between them more appropriate for a Boy Scout and his Scout leader.
“Shouldn’t we go in?” she asked, nodding at the glowing entrance of the hotel, where Mediacom employees and their dates were streaming in at a slow pace.
“I don’t suppose I could talk you into going upstairs to a private room instead. Since you’ve already nixed the public displays of affection…”
Her gaze narrowed. “Jack Hiller didn’t hire me to have sex with you.”
He snaked his hand around her waist and pulled her closer as they walked toward the red carpet leading to the door. “He should have. Everything would be so much simpler.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re a hopeless case.”
“Good, then maybe you’ll give up this makeover crap and do what we both know we want to do.”
She shot him a look. “I don’t give up that easily. You may be a hopeless scoundrel inside, but I can at least dress you up like a professional on the outside.”
“It’s all about appearances, isn’t it,” Zane said as they entered the lobby.
Following the signs, they made their way to the lower-level ballroom where the event was being held.
Inside the ballroom, people stood around in small groups making chitchat. Zane groaned inwardly. This was going to be one damn long night if he couldn’t talk Naomi into sneaking off somewhere and getting naked.
Getting undressed could liven up even the most miserable and boring social functions, Zane had learned long ago.
And the sight of Naomi all dressed up, looking her most polished, with her lips a perfect, glossy red, her hair draping her shoulders like satin, her skin glowing in the soft light…It was enough to make a man lose interest in everything else.
How the hell was he supposed to engage in small talk with a bunch of big-headed reporters when there was this gorgeous, prissy sex-goddess-in-the-making standing right next to him?
With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her through the crowd and straight to a table in the nearest secluded corner.
Naomi gave him a once-over. “You clean up nicely,” she said. “But if you’d really like to look the part, you’ll need to cut your hair.”
“Could we skip the image advice for tonight? I invited you here as my date.”
She smiled. “Okay, sorry. I don’t normally date my clients.”
“Glad you made an exception for me. Why did you?”
She glanced away from him, her gaze following a couple Zane didn’t recognize as they passed by. When they were gone, she looked back at him, and he could see a spark of mischief in her eyes. “Maybe it was the heat—maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Or maybe you’re just attracted to me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s unbecoming of a gentleman.”
“Remember—no advice tonight. And if you think you’re going to turn me into a gentleman, you’ve got a steep mountain to climb.”
Naomi smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. And if you must know the truth, you’re right, I did agree to come here because I’m attracted to you.”
Her honesty almost threw him off guard. It was so out-of-character for a girl like Naomi to just come right out and state her feelings.
But Zane was the master when it came to throwing people off guard.
He leaned in close. “Then you are going home with me tonight, right?”
She turned to face him, confusion in her eyes. “Why would you think that?”
“Our agreement, remember? When you decided to
show off your linguistic skills.”
Her cheeks colored. He knew damn well she’d been hoping to forget about that whole agreement-in-French issue.
“What about our agreement?” she asked.
“I’ve held up my end of the bargain so far by going along with your consultation today….”
“Yes, you have,” she said, her tone uncertain.
“You do realize what I asked you to do with me, right? You said you understood.”
“Oh. Well, honestly, I may have fibbed a tiny bit. I mean, I have a general idea what you asked me to do.”
He smiled. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Her blush deepened. “Okay, I lied. I don’t have a clue what you said, and I couldn’t even remember enough of it to look it up later in my French dictionary.”
“Hmm. It probably wouldn’t be very nice of me to hold you to an agreement you didn’t understand.”
“So long as it’s not illegal, I guess my word is my word. I have to hold up my end of the bargain, right?”
“Maybe you should find out what I said before you decide that.”
“Are you going to keep me in suspense any longer?”
“I said I wanted to make love to you.”
The rosy color drained from her cheeks. “Oh.”
“Were you thinking I’d asked you to redecorate my apartment?”
Naomi expelled a nervous laugh. “I had a feeling you’d said something a little scandalous, but I thought maybe you’d just asked me to kiss you, or…touch you, or something.”
He draped one arm over the back of her chair. “‘Or something’ is right.”
“I shouldn’t have expected anything less,” she said, her lighthearted tone sounding a little forced.
Zane sobered. “I wouldn’t ever expect you to do something with me that you don’t want to do.”
She gave her chin a defiant tilt. “Who said anything about not wanting to do something with you?”
“I’m talking about not wanting to do it with me. There’s a big difference between something and it. You can back out now, and I’ll forgive you.” He flashed a smile, hoping to ease the tension in her posture.
“I don’t go back on my promises,” she said.
“So in other words, you’ll screw my brains out tonight if I ask you to?”
“Are you asking?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m saying yes,” she said, all the uncertainty gone from her voice. She regarded him like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and would stop at nothing to get it.
Again, she’d almost managed to throw him off guard, but he loved a girl who could be sure of her decisions. His blood was already pumping faster through his veins, anticipating the fun to come. There weren’t many things he loved more than getting to know a woman’s body for the first time, exploring her, learning what made her cry out with pleasure.
Across the room, Jack Hiller spotted them and headed in their direction. Damn, that man had lousy timing.
“Jack Hiller at two o’clock,” he said.
Naomi casually glanced in Jack’s direction. “I’ve never met him in person. We’ve only talked on the phone.”
“Our story is, you’re here on official business, as my image consultant, got it?”
She smiled. “Got it.”
It was time to behave like a good boy, wipe away his smirk and exude professionalism. Definitely not time to make it clear that he was about to get naked with his image consultant.
But before Jack was within hearing range, Zane leaned toward her and whispered, “Soon as this thing’s over, I’m going to take you upstairs to a nice, private suite and show you exactly why I have such a bad-boy reputation.”
TALIA RANG THE DOORBELL and waited. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to get laid until she’d had her little encounter with Ken on the phone. And now, her whole body humming with anticipation, she could hardly stand still.
A light switched on inside the house. A second later, the lock on the door clicked, and it opened.
There stood Ken, his dark brown hair falling onto his forehead, his green eyes smoldering. Talia had always thought he looked like the embodiment of male sexuality, and now she remembered why. He stood a good three or four inches taller than her, his body a sculpture of smooth flesh and well-toned muscle, and she could not wait to get him hard and naked.
A slow smile started out at his mouth, and eventually reached his eyes. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself. Are you going to invite me in, or should we just do it here in front of your door?”
“You’ve got a one-track mind, don’t you?”
“When you’re around I do,” she said as she reached out and traced a finger along his bicep muscle.
His smile turned into a chuckle. “Come on in before we make a scene in front of the neighbors.”
Talia had never been inside Ken’s place before. She’d never bothered to imagine how he might live, or if he even had a life outside her bedroom. So she was a tiny bit surprised to see that his apartment looked normal, that he had furniture, art on the walls, decent decorating taste, even.
He caught her looking around. “You like it?”
“Not bad.” She closed the short distance between them. “But I like you better,” she said as she trailed her hands up his chest and around his neck.
Then she ended their conversation with a kiss intended to burn holes in his shoes. He responded with a little tongue action, but nothing like she’d hoped. In a matter of seconds, he broke the kiss.
“You want something to eat? I was just about to order Chinese when you called.”
“Oh, um…” She was a little hungry. “Sure, if you promise we can eat in bed.”
He laughed. “You’re relentless.”
“I know what I want—you, naked, right now,” she said as she unzipped her dress in the back and shrugged it off her shoulders.
It fell to the floor, revealing her naked body beneath. She hadn’t bothered with panties or a bra, knowing how easily such things got in the way. Talia stepped out of the dress and stood before him wearing nothing but a pair of black stiletto heels and a diamond belly ring.
“Whoa, babe,” he said, but his gaze traveled over her body, clearly appreciative of what he saw. “I thought we could talk and have some dinner first.”
“Talk?” She blinked, trying to imagine what he’d want to talk about. The pros and cons of his favorite sex positions?
He smiled. “Yeah, you know, conversation? Ever heard of it?”
“Um, sure, we can talk.” It was a novel idea. “I’ll tell you all about what I want to do to you after we finish talking.”
He picked up her dress and helped her back into it, and for the first time Talia could remember, she felt a little ridiculous for having just gotten naked in front of a guy.
“I thought we could get to know each other.”
“I fully intend for us to get to know each other—very intimately.”
He took her hand and led her over to the couch, then sat down with her. “Do you like orange chicken?”
“Sure.”
He picked up the phone and dialed, then placed a delivery order as Talia tried to imagine why he was pulling this getting-to-know-you act.
When he hung up the phone, she crawled onto his lap and straddled him, aware that the position made her underwear-free state readily apparent.
“So, what sort of getting to know each other do you have in mind?”
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said.
Talia smiled to hide her amusement that he even had any sort of thoughts. Okay, so she’d only ever regarded him as a sex toy, and perhaps that was a bit unfair. Of course he had thoughts and feelings and furniture and such. It just hadn’t ever mattered to her before. She wasn’t sure she wanted it to matter now, either.
Mixing friendship with sex couldn’t possibly be a good idea, and she’d learned the hard way that romance was a notion best res
erved for fluffy beach novels.
“Thinking what? That you’d like to know who did my tattoo?”
He laughed. “No. Just wondering where you were, what you were doing, if you were seeing anyone…”
Whoa. This was getting weird again.
“I’m still here, still doing the same stuff, definitely not seeing anyone worth mentioning.”
“I looked you up a few months ago, but I couldn’t work up the nerve to call.”
Talia blinked. “Why not? I’m always up for a little action.”
“I guess you’d have thought I was crazy then if I asked you out on a regular date.”
Um, yeah. “Maybe a little,” she said with a teasing smile.
He gave her backside a little swat for punctuation. “I want to show you something.”
When she didn’t budge from his lap, he lifted her and set her on her feet as he stood.
“You could show me right here on the couch,” she said, hoping whatever he had to show her involved taking down his pants.
He ignored her as he took her hand and led her out of the living room, down the hallway to what she had a fleeting hope would be his bedroom equipped with king-size bed. Hell, even an old futon would be acceptable at this point.
But when he switched on the light, she saw that he’d brought her to a room furnished with a love seat and an assortment of musical instruments. Okay, great. Not only was Booty Call Ken in the mood for chitchat, he was also an aspiring rock star desperate for affirmation of his talent.
Talia was interested in affirming the talent she already knew he had—for playing her body like a well-tuned instrument.
“Bet you didn’t know I play in a jazz band.”
She shrugged. “That’s one of a million things I don’t know about you.”
He went to a saxophone on a stand and picked it up, then started playing it. Talia knew nothing about jazz, but she could tell he played well. “So,” she said, pretending to be interested, “you’re a musician by trade?”
He stopped playing and shook his head. “Just for fun. By day, I manage construction sites.”
“Oh.” Talia smiled, imagining all the hard-hat scenarios they could act out. “I like a man who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”
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