Recipe for Satisfacton

by Gina Gordon

  “You like it?”

  Sterling looked over at him. “Who wouldn’t?”

  He had a repulsed look on his face. “Uh…me. And my brothers. We always joked that Liberace puked up the furnishings for this room.” He chuckled.

  “You know that Liberace was all sparkles and sequins, right?”

  He smiled. “I do now.”

  A king-size bed lay in the middle of the room with a heavy red duvet. A long dresser sat against the left wall with an oval mirror attached. The en suite bathroom was in the corner of the room, and to the right, double doors, partially open, invited her to venture inside and see what other treasures awaited.

  “Is that the closet?” she asked.

  Jack nodded and gestured to the door. “Take a peek.”

  Her stomach tingled with anticipation as she approached the doors. She’d once seen photos of Vivian’s closet in a feature article of Toronto Life magazine. Although Penn would be the one to know designers without even looking at the label, Sterling could still appreciate the clothing, especially since she had never, ever, owned her own piece of high-end fashion. It was a dream that seemed so far away. A dream she didn’t think would ever happen. Not if her parents kept screwing her over financially. But now was not the time to be thinking about that.

  She pushed open the double doors and the space lit up immediately, no need to even flick a switch. The colors were just as rich, the clothing just as elaborate as the magazine photos had shown, and it took her breath away.

  The space was much too big to be considered a closet. More like a room. Clothing lined both sides and the far wall. In the middle on both sides, a unit made up of shelves housed hundreds of shoes. Red soles peeked out from the bottoms of a few pairs and others were blinged out with double Cs affixed to the tops. Black, silver, gold, and pink. High heels, flats, sandals, and strappy elegance. Oh yes, Carrie Bradshaw would be drooling at the sight of this hidden sanctuary.

  She slid hanger after hanger of designer clothing along the metal poles, admiring the elaborate colors and designs in this monumental, spectacular closet. Penn would have a severe case of the green-eyed monster if she ever walked through here.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this.” She looked over at Jack, who stood in the doorway with a smile on his face. “At least not in real life.” This closet was the work of one woman, over years and years of gracing the most prestigious and elite parties in the city. Money may not be able to buy love…but it definitely bought a closet full of things that could take its place.

  He walked farther into the room. “This is one of the rooms I’m having trouble deciding what to do with.” He ran his hand along the color-coded line of clothes.

  There was only one thing to do with a wardrobe like this when all you had were men to hand things down to. “It should be donated to charity, don’t you think?”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. He was open to charity. A definite product of his environment.

  She opened one of the drawers affixed to the unit. Lacy undergarments stared back at her. She quickly shut the drawer—there was a fine line after all, and going through a strange man’s mother’s underwear was crossing it.

  “She liked to support local designers, but the stuff back there was too edgy for her taste.” He pointed to a section of the closet in the corner, filled with bright colors, shorter-cut dresses, and styles that were definitely more Penn. “This is one of the times I wish we had a sister. She’d take all of this and it would be done.”

  “Women would kill for this stuff.” She raced to another part of the room, to a small section of dresses. Her eye caught on a floor-length gown. “This looks like something Jackie Kennedy would wear.”

  “It’s old?”

  “Not old, Jack. Vintage.” She held up the dress against her body in front of the full-length mirror and admired herself. “Ever seen footage of women lined up outside of a designer warehouse sale? They trample each other. Literally. People end up in the hospital.”

  Jake laughed.

  “You think I’m joking?”

  He held up his hands in defense and grinned.

  She could stare at that grin all day, every day, for the rest of her life. She shook off the thought. Her eyes traveled down the length of his body. When she got to his hand, she remembered… “Oh, how is your hand?” She lunged forward, nearly tripping as she folded the dress over her arm, but stopped before she got too close. She took his hand in order to inspect the bandage. He’d replaced it with one of his own.

  “It’s just fine.” He stepped closer. “Thanks to you, I avoided infection.”

  “Glad I could help.” She took a step back. Unfortunately, the top half of her body didn’t follow suit. Her head and chest still soaked up the power of the sexy man standing before her.

  He stepped closer still. “Do you think—” The beep of a digital timer interrupted his words. “Shit! The cookies. Just…” he tensed. “Stay right here.”

  She let go of his hand and he stepped out of the closet, not turning his back to her until he cleared the doorway.

  How many years had it been since she felt the butterflies? The tickle of excitement at the thought of a man? But these were super butterflies. Gigantic oversize, hyped-up-on-steroids butterflies. Was that because of Jack? Was it because she was in the most amazing home with the most eclectic collection of things and the most fabulous closet in the entire world that gave her the butterflies? Had to be. He was hot, in that bad-boy-with-tats-and-a-colorful-past kind of way.

  Jack Vaughn wasn’t the commitment type of man. Maybe for the next little while, Sterling wouldn’t be that kind of woman, either.

  She needed to get back on her own horse. And boy did she need someone to saddle her up good. And fast. And hard. And—shut it, Sterling. Pull up your professional pants and get back to work.

  With him downstairs, she continued to look around the amazing closet. Her eyes rested on an unopened designer shoebox placed demurely on the edge of one of the shelves. She couldn’t resist. Sterling tentatively glanced back toward the door and then peeked inside the box. A brand-new pair of purple, strappy stilettos stared back at her. There was no way a woman who wore vintage Jackie Kennedy would’ve bought these puppies for herself.

  She hung up the dress, kicked off her sensible flip-flops, and reverently withdrew the shoes from the box before sliding her feet inside the straps. She didn’t need to fasten the clasp in order to get the effect. She admired her feet in the long mirror, twisting and turning in the light.

  Thoughts of riches and leisurely time spent on a yacht with champagne and not a care in the world were so easy to believe when you wore a symbol of the elite. What she wouldn’t give to know just for one day what it felt like to be the person who could afford these shoes.

  A low growl sounded from the doorway. “Take those shoes off.”

  She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. How was it possible the sexy sound of his voice scared her and excited her all at the same time? She tensed, not wanting to face him for fear of his anger. Her carelessness was completely unprofessional. But she also tightened in all the right places, a wave of heat breaking out across her skin, just waiting for his next command.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She bent and tore the shoes from her feet. “This is so unprofessional. I should never have touched the shoes, I—”

  His gaze was too intense. She couldn’t help but back away when he stalked forward. He cursed under his breath.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t think of your feelings. I’m sure it hurts to see—”

  “It hurts. You have no idea how much it hurts.” He stepped closer and this time, she didn’t back away, remorse and compassion evident in his eyes. “And something else, too.”

  Her breath caught.

  “All I want to do is strip you down and have your legs wrapped around me as I drive into you.” He grimaced but his look was enough to draw a small gasp
out of her. The desire pooling in his eyes was as deep as she’d seen on the boat. “We should finish what we started.”

  His words were the secret fantasy she had longed to hear. Only air escaped from her mouth. How had he rendered her speechless already?

  “Don’t you think we should finish what we had going on in that limo?”

  “Um…” Despite the exuberant “yes” that played over and over again in her head, she couldn’t. She’d solidified that when she agreed to take on this job. But there was also the fact that she was pathetic in the fling department. Been there, failed that. She didn’t think her ego could take another hit.

  “Sterling.” He traced his finger along the line of her jaw. “Let me have you.” He reached for her hand, the one that didn’t hold his mother’s shoe.

  “I…I’m working for you.” Could they step over the line and continue to remain professional? “It’s a bad idea.”

  “Is that what your brain tells you?” He directed her hand to his mouth. “Is that what the other parts of your body tell you?” He kissed each knuckle, slowly, with gentle swipes of his tongue. “I have a feeling you disagree with everything your brain is telling you right now.”

  A tiny whimper escaped her.

  He stepped a little closer and ran his nose along her neck, inhaling deeply. She shivered at the touch of his lips against her skin.

  “Please, Sterling, let me have you,” he whispered. “Let me finish what we started. I can give you so much pleasure. I can help you find what you’re looking for.”

  This was the first time a man had ever practically begged to get inside her pants. And how odd that it was coming from Jack, the sexiest, richest, hottest man she had ever encountered. He wanted her. And she just couldn’t believe it.

  “Why me?” She exhaled sharply. “What do you want with me?”

  “Why not you? You’re a beautiful, sexy woman, and truthfully, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  It didn’t make sense. The girl wearing the khaki skirt and flip-flops didn’t end up with the bad boy.

  “You can have anyone you want. Why waste your time with someone like me?”

  “You don’t look in the mirror much, do you?”

  “Look, I’m going to be working for you and I need…” She stopped herself. There was no reason for him to know she was desperate. That she needed the money. He would probably kick her out of his home if he knew she was the perfect definition of a gold digger—even if she went about it honestly through valid employment. But right now, at this moment, her aching libido didn’t give a rat’s ass about the money. Was it worth the risk of ruining the reputation she’d built?

  He grabbed at the neck of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

  Sweet. Mother. Mary. So worth it.

  He was like a real-life magazine ad. Chiseled, tanned, with a soft sprinkling of dark hair and the tattoos. His left arm was inked from wrist to shoulder. Dark swirls of black, flowers, all interwoven in an intricate design. A panther prowled down his right forearm. Scrollwork peeked up over his shoulder on the right side. Would it be rude to ask him to turn so she could better admire him? Sterling never thought she could like tattoos so much, let alone find them downright sexy.

  She’d felt the ripple of his abs under his shirt when he’d pressed her up against the boat. She’d gotten a sneak peek of his ink when he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to help her pick up the broken glass. But the image she’d built up in her head was nothing compared to the real thing.

  “Like what you see?”

  My God, yes.

  Sterling tightened her fists and lowered her eyes. She needed a minute. Just one minute to collect her thoughts without the sight of this sexy man clouding her sense of judgment. And then it hit her. He was only a man. Right here, right now, he wasn’t a celebrity or sex god or any other stereotype he’d been labeled with. He was just a man.

  Taking a deep breath, she raised her eyes and groaned. Nope. Nuh-uh. He wasn’t like any other man she’d ever seen before.

  “Are you turned off by my tattoos?” Challenge flittered across his face, but only for a second.

  “No! I…” Want to run my tongue along every line of those markings. “I like them. But that’s not what I meant when I said I’ve never been with a man like you before.”

  He slipped a condom out of his wallet and placed it on one of the shelves. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who was always prepared.

  “I’ve never been with a man with…”

  He undid the buckle of his belt.

  She swallowed hard. “…tattoos, but I meant…”

  The belt hung loose on both ends as he undid the top button of his jeans, then the plick, plick, plick of the rest of the buttons on his fly echoed within the closet. He revealed his black underwear. She stood stock-still. She wanted this man with an intensity she’d never felt before.

  And it was the very reason she feared him.

  “You don’t want me,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Her eyes roved the impressive male body. His erection pushed against the material of his boxer briefs, thick and long. There was no way it could be as impressive as the rest of him. He had to have some kind of flaw. His penis. It had to be his penis.

  “You know…” His hand found her cheek and he cupped her jaw, his thumb rubbing lightly against her cheek. “I might just be exactly what you need to get yourself back in the game. It’s time we both started living and nothing makes you feel more alive than a good fuck.”

  “You would be a good…” She lowered her gaze. What did she have to lose? Obviously, the man wanted her. She could tell by peeking at his boxers. She was fully aware of his motivations, so there was no possible way she could get hurt. No matter how good the “no-strings, no-commitment” sex would be with this man, she’d keep her distance.

  “I’ve never had any complaints,” he coaxed.

  He was breaking out the big guns. Using the fact that he was über-talented with his…equipment.

  “I want to make love to you, slow and steady, memorize every inch of you.” He stepped as close as he could without pressing their bodies together. “Let go, Sterling. Let me in.”

  Her head spun with his closeness and just like that all rational thought flew right out of the closet.

  “I just want to see one thing.” She unconsciously held her breath as she slid her hands inside the elastic of his boxers and drew them down, exposing his length. She let out a heavy breath, partly out of relief, partly out of desire. It was just as she had suspected. His penis was exquisite. She hadn’t seen very many penises in her life and she doubted the number would grow exponentially after him, but none of them made her stomach tight with excitement. Not one of them made her long to touch, to taste.

  Would it have been a deal breaker if his package hadn’t matched the rest of his perfect body? Good thing she didn’t have to make that decision. Because at this moment, the sincerity in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. This man would take her to the heights of pleasure, a place she’d always longed to go. And so help her, she was going to join him there.

  For some reason, Boring Sterling vanished when Jack Vaughn was around. They would finish what they started. Maybe then, she’d be able to work alongside him and not wonder what it would be like to have her legs wrapped around him.

  She licked her lips, dropping to her knees.

  “Sterling…”

  She’d never enjoyed giving blow jobs. It was always a chore. Always something that had to be done to please someone else. But if she took Jack’s hard length into her mouth she’d be pleasing herself.

  And wasn’t that what her life was all about now?

  …

  Jack stared down at the beautiful woman on her knees in front of him. This wasn’t the position he intended when he’d propositioned her. Which was a no-brainer. Walking into the closet, seeing her trying on those shoes—the excitement
in her eyes worked as an aphrodisiac. Employee or not, he wasn’t letting her get away this time.

  Her hands massaged his thighs as she watched him intently, taking in every nuance of his manhood.

  The sight of Sterling on her knees, the sight of her hand gripping his cock, her mouth only inches from his length, had his heart pounding against his ribs and his blood simmering. He was ready to erupt at the simple touch of her tongue. She leaned forward and licked, a slow glide from the base, and when she reached the tip she made a noise. A sweet, sexy, mumbled little noise that caused him to swell. She repeated her action, slow, then fast, winding her tongue around the tip. Christ she was good at this.

  Finally, the warmth of her mouth took in his entire length. She rested for a moment, then swallowed, the back of her throat tickling his tip. His thighs clenched and his hips jerked forward. He needed to feel that warmth, needed to know she was taking him in as much as she could. She allowed him to stay buried in her mouth as she breathed through her nostrils, the tiny wisps of air tickling his pelvis.

  She finally pulled back, slowly, her tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. And just when he thought she was done, she thrust her mouth down hard to the base, her hand squeezing his balls in a steady rhythm.

  Her mouth felt too good. Just as he’d imagined based on their too-brief first night together. But this wasn’t what he wanted right now. This wasn’t what he needed.

  He wanted to feel the squeeze of her core, the contraction around him as he brought her to orgasm. He stepped back, his cock slipping out of her mouth with a pop. She licked her lips. They were plump and red, desire heavy in her eyes.

  “This isn’t what I want.” He dragged her up by her shoulders. Her face changed, desire slipping away, replaced by anxiousness.

  He glanced down to the purple shoes she’d dropped to the floor. “You’re going to put those shoes back on, because I’m going to make love to you now.”

  Trying to turn away from him and face the shelves, she trembled, but his hold on her hair prevented her from moving.