“Depending on the wind conditions, flying a kite can be frustrating, or like today, just plain fun. Let it go up as high as you’d like, but remember you’ll have to rewind all the string when you bring it down.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Why don’t you come here and try it?”
Here we go, Darcy thought, but the prospect of having him wrapped around her wasn’t all that unappealing. She moved to his side and gradually took control of the string. To her infinite dismay, however, he stepped back out of her way.
“Now, tell me why you need a studio,” she prompted, as much to distract herself as to discover his intentions.
Griffin moved up behind her and began to rub her shoulders. “You look rather stiff. Does this feel good?”
His touch was light but sure and incredibly soothing. “Christy Joy said you’d have great hands.”
“Did she?” Griffin chuckled.
Darcy hadn’t meant to pay the compliment out loud. “Please don’t tell her I said that.”
“I’m going to be tempted, but maybe we can work out something.”
“Do you expect a bribe?” Darcy felt a strong tug on the string and released a bit more. The kite was way out over the bluff now and dancing against the sun.
Griffin leaned down and nibbled her right ear. “Stay for dinner. I bought a roasted chicken. You eat those, don’t you?”
Darcy felt his breath on her cheek and couldn’t recall his question. “Chicken?” she mumbled numbly.
Griffin kissed her left ear lightly. “Yes, do you like them?”
He was wrapped around her now, and as snugly as she had imagined—no, hoped. She relaxed against him, and he began to trace teasing circles around the tip of her left breast with his right hand, while his left crept slowly down her stomach toward the sweet spot between her legs. His hips were pressed against her back, and there was no mistaking the intensity of his desire.
“This is what you had in mind all along, isn’t it?” she nearly moaned.
“Do you blame me?”
Darcy dipped her head. She supposed this was simply his usual routine. He would be in town for a few days to give a concert, and if he wanted to connect with a woman, he would waste no time in going about it. Even better than a sailor with a girl in every port, she bet he had women all around the world eagerly awaiting his return.
“Darcy? What was his name?”
Startled, Darcy turned to look up at him. “Whose name?”
“The man who broke your heart.”
Enfolded in his embrace, Darcy could not recall any of the other men she’d known. “Griffin Moore,” she breathed out softly.
An alluring woman in a red dress. Is she an ally…or a killer’s lure?
Scent of Persuasion
© 2010 Nikki Duncan
Sensory Ops, Book 2
Actress Kami Evans is tackling the biggest role of her life—as an escort. There’s definitely something going on in Madame V’s mansion, but Kami has to prove herself trustworthy before she can dig deeper and prove her stepbrother didn’t commit suicide.
Her first assignment: seduce a CEO and, oddly, steal his hair brush. He’s everything she avoids in a man: suave, sexy, suited. She plays her role all the way to the bedroom…and finds it stunningly difficult to walk away.
Breck Lawson’s undercover assignment, posing as a replacement CEO, is yielding zero clues as to why his friend tried to kill himself—until Kami comes on the scene. She’s everything he likes in a woman: safe, sexy, temporary. She also arouses him just by walking into a room, a sure sign it’s time to push her away.
Then he connects the dots she unwittingly shares, and realizes their investigations are linked by delicate strands of DNA. Keeping her near isn’t wise, but he has to know her secrets and keep her safe.
Unless they trust each other and come clean, those dots could lead to death for both of them…
Warning: This title contains love found in the last place expected, call girls, disco sticks, Monkees karaoke, steamy sex and a conspiracy to murder through the need for sex.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Scent of Persuasion:
The apartment was immaculate and ultra-masculine, and after spending more time with Breck, it still didn’t suit him. Maybe the ring-stained coffee table did, but he struck her as a man with simple, functional tastes. He was intense, but the décor was darker than he seemed to be. The new CEO of Blue Chip Technologies didn’t add up. Then again, the same could be said about her.
She was being paid to have sex with the man and had been commanded to return to the Elegant Entertainment mansion with his hairbrush. The command coated her with a heavier slime sensation than the sex. With Breck, thanks to the chemistry between them, she could enjoy sex, if she managed to stop thinking about the money aspect.
The hairbrush, though… It stood to reason his brush would be needed for DNA, but the supporting rationale was missing. What would an escort agency need with a man’s DNA? If the DNA was somehow tied to Channing’s death, how? And how could she prove it without playing a part in endangering Breck?
Questionable logic aside, she’d been warned that failure was not an option. The eerie danger glinting in Madame V’s eyes had been all the confirmation she needed. She would have to weigh the angles and possibilities later.
She was an actress, and had known this role would be difficult. She hadn’t considered that she might be used for darker intentions. And every molecule constructing her guts twisted with certainty that she’d gotten in over her head with Madame V.
Standing behind the swaying chair, swiping her hands across the quilted throw to banish some of the nervous moisture, Kami promised herself she could do this. She was an actress. This was a performance.
She could mislead a nice man if it meant finding justice for Channing. If her wary instincts proved true and she found out Breck was in danger, she’d find a way to warn him.
“Is there a stereo in here?” Music relaxed her.
“You want to dance?”
“We weren’t so awful at it downstairs.” In Breck’s arms, she’d forgotten she was on a job. She’d been half of a couple attracted to each other until he’d stepped away in the elevator. She wanted that feeling back.
“No, we weren’t.” He revealed a hidden cabinet and pushed a couple of buttons. Hard and fast music throbbed into the room. “Not really dancing music.”
“Not the kind I had in mind for the moment anyway.” She shoved her nerves down and licked her lips slowly. “We need to work up to that kind of…intensity.”
“Right.” He dialed through the CD player.
The haunting strains of violins swept through the air. Passion rose and fell in the melody with a slowly building tension. The strength of the music swelled in her with bravery. She rounded the chair and walked toward Breck. He crossed to her. His stride was smooth and precise—commanding. Her stomach fluttered.
In the middle of the floor, he took her in his arms and held her close. A rumble vibrated his chest against hers.
He rolled his hips forward. She moved back.
He stepped back. She moved in.
Give and take, advance and retreat, they moved as one with the music.
Breck’s erection grew and pressed against her hip. Considering the almost constantly soaked state of her underwear, she would have to toy with going commando if there were going to be future encounters with him.
He swiped his tongue along the rim of her ear and slid his hands down to cup her ass. Her breath caught, and as if they’d been dancing together for years, he led her body in seduction.
Her blood heated even as her mind kicked rebelliously against the oppression of depravity darkening her desire. That a man attractive enough to have any woman he chose was okay with paying for sex should make it easier to be the payee. She slammed a door against the thoughts and gave her body the reins. She was simply a woman enjoying the stimulating company of a yummaliciously attractive man.
She e
ased her hands inside his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. He released her long enough to free himself of the sleeves.
Never missing a step, his body continued guiding hers. Of all the man she’d danced with, he was the strongest leader. He was also the most compelling and fun man she’d met in a long time. He wasn’t afraid to laugh, and though she’d not had much to laugh about lately he’d had her laughing a few times.
Unbinding his tie, she set to work on the buttons of his shirt, wanting a longer study of the body she’d glimpsed at the beginning of the evening. She’d watched him, knowing what he hid beneath the fine clothes. Now she would have time to appreciate it. She would see all of him. Explore all of him. Feel all of him.
It’s been so long.
Swaying with him, brushing her body against his, aware of the silk of her dress shifting against her legs, she tugged his shirt free of his pants and shoved it off and to the floor. He toed out of his shoes and socks. His movements, bumping his body against hers, lit flames low in her belly that incinerated some of her lingering insecurities.
Kami closed her eyes and arched her body against his in a roll that started at her shoulders and ended at her pelvis.
Breck shifted them away from his shoes and growing pile of clothes and she capitalized on the resulting space by slipping her fingers into his waistband.
“Kami.”
“Yeah?”
He cleared his throat. “Never mind.”
Grinning, she worked the fasteners loose and pushed his pants and boxer briefs to the floor, leaving him naked before her.
The music changed to a thumping beat with an erotic undertone that mirrored the mood she needed to maintain. The driving rhythm pushed more doubts from her mind.
She traced her fingers over his body as she stepped back. Moving in time with the beat, she circled his gloriously hard body. Every inch of him was finely sculpted and aroused.
She bit her bottom lip as she moved back to his front. He could reach her, pull her back to him with no effort. He seemed content to watch her dance around him, as if he was excited by it.
Their gazes locked.
His pupils flared as she gyrated her hips. She placed her hands at her neck, keeping her touch light as she imagined he would. Keeping her eyes steady, watching the signs of his building arousal, she slid her fingers down her shoulders and hooked a finger under each stringy strap.
Smiling, she eased the straps off her shoulders. Down her arms. Over her breasts.
Her nipples hardened and saluted him as she worked the silk lower. His throat jumped.
With a shimmy of her hips, the silk slithered to the floor. Her thong rubbed her clit as she stepped free of the fabric.
His dick jerked as if begging for attention. He wasn’t looking at her the way a man involved in something torrid and dirty might. He was as deeply invested in this as she.
She suppressed a moan.
“I had an image in my head.” She stepped toward him, rested her hands on his chest and urged him to the nearest recliner. The confidence from having complete power over herself and Breck enveloped her.
“Yeah?” He half croaked the word, turning it into several syllables.
“Mmm-hmm. Of me reclined in this chair with you between my knees.”
His hands skated over her arms. His fingers trembled. “Sounds like a good vision.”
“I have a better one.” She pushed him into the chair and knelt between his legs.
Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1 Page 26