by Odell, Roxie
The staff had come to recognize her as his girlfriend, of sorts, although Derrick and Corrine were very quick to correct them. “We’re just friends,” they would say whenever anyone mentioned it.
She was always the first to stop the rumor from crystalizing, and she could be downright blunt about it sometimes. He always shrugged it off, but part of him was hurt by the fact that she was so adamant that they were only having a casual affair.
Derrick had chuckled one time when she was particularly assertive. “Okay. Just friends.”
Corrine looked slightly confused at his reaction.
“I get it, okay?” he said, stroking her hair. “You’re a free agent. We’ve got no hold on each other, and I’m just not your man.”
“Right, you’re just my… Derrick,” she said in a way that made him weak in the knees and caused him to instantly forget any sting from her earlier remarks.
With thoughts of her lingering on his mind, he wrapped up his business and hurried to his room to freshen up before going down to join her at the bar. His mind quickly shifted from work to the wonderful time they would share together. He changed his shirt, opting for a long-sleeved, light silk knit, and slipped into some khakis, an ensemble much nicer than the one he’d slapped on to go to the meeting with his ex. He brushed his teeth, something he was almost fanatical about now that he spent so much time lip-locked with Corrine, shaved as she’d asked him to, and then took the glass elevator down twenty floors.
At least once during every ride in that glass box, he recalled the moment he met Corrine. She had been so adorably neurotic when the elevator malfunctioned and he had to rescue her. He had never been so grateful for a mechanical glitch in his life. In every way, she was the silver lining to that cloud.
He was sure he would spot her as soon as the doors opened, since that specific elevator opened up near the bar, but that was not the case. After looking around for a few moments and not finding her among the crowd, he texted, “I’m here. Where are you?”
“Here,” she replied cryptically.
Her brief reply both frustrated and excited him. She had to be playing another game, toying with him, something she loved to do. Cat-and-mouse, huh? Oh, I’ll find you all right.
He scanned the room again and still didn’t see her. His eyelids pressed shut, and his breathing quickened as his body heated with mild arousal. It’s gonna be a damn good night.
Derrick studied the people in the bar, formulating his game plan as he searched. He was on the lookout for Corrine’s longish blonde hair, with its soft, cascading curls, but he had no luck. He bellied up to the bar, thinking about where she could be. She outsmarted him time and time again, one of the many traits he found to be so enticing about her.
Suddenly, someone brushed against him, a beautiful brunette with sleek shoulder-length hair. Since his ex-wife had dark brown hair, he had thought he would never have a taste for chocolate manes again, but that was not the case. The woman near him now was absolutely stunning.
“Oh, sorry,” she said.
Her voice didn’t sound familiar, but within seconds, he recognized her fully with every part of him. If not for animal instinct, he might never have realized who she was. Her light, curly hair was now dark and straight. Her pale eyes were lined with heavy black eyeliner, but it meshed perfectly well with the hair. If she had sported the same dark makeup in her natural blonde state, she would have looked like a drunken raccoon, but that was certainly not the case now.
Her lips, naturally full, were painted with matte red lipstick, a color that did crazy things to her bottom lip, causing Derrick to stare. Her mouth practically begged to be tasted, and he wanted nothing more than to tug on that plump lip with his teeth.
Her clothes were also part of her disguise, a color she would typically never wear. The shimmering, smoky purple satin blouse flowed over her voluptuousness, creating a tantalizing vision. She had even gone to the trouble of applying acrylic nails painted in a matching color, obscenely long and wicked.
“Damn,” Derrick muttered, as if begging for mercy, as if she might literally kill him with her hotness.
She had a cigarette poised to her lips and was waiting for the bartender to give her a light. Her clothes were tasteful, but when she leaned over the bar for him to flick his Bic, Derrick had a clear view down her blouse, and he could not pull his eyes away.
Corrine had a beautiful body, one so amazing that even without any spoken commitment, he never once thought of touching anyone else. She was everything he would ever want or need, and he would have recognized those perfect breasts anywhere, disguise or not.
She must have sensed a lightbulb going off in his head because she looked up at him and smiled. “Take a picture,” she said in her most sultry voice. “It’ll last longer.”
“Maybe I will,” he replied in kind. He then took her hand as if he were going to hold it, a ruse to snatch the unlit cigarette away from her. “You weren’t planning to smoke this, were you?” He crushed it and dropped the shreds in a nearby ashtray.
“Well, I’m not now,” she said playfully. “You went and spoiled all the fun. But, just for the record, one won’t hurt anything.”
“You don’t smoke, do you?” Derrick asked, suddenly sounding serious and disappointed all at once.
“Would that be a deal-breaker?” she asked, pretending to pout.
Playing or not, the question was somewhat painful to hear. She was always quick to remind him of their deal, their contract, their agreement to stick to a simple affair. It drove home the fact that she was far less serious about their relationship than he was, and it made him question the genuineness of whatever it was they had, if anything at all. It can’t be possible that she doesn’t care at all, can it? He couldn’t imagine being as intimate as they were if she felt no true affection for him, but if that was the way she wanted it, he had to play along.
“Hey, if you’re ready to go, doll, don’t let the door hit you on that sweet ass on your way out,” he said coolly.
He looked her in the eye sternly, arching his brow, as if he dared her to whine about him giving it right back to her. It was a message somewhere between a joke and dead serious, but by the look on her face, he could tell she’d read him loud and clear.
“Do you come here often?” he asked, re-igniting their play.
“Only with you,” she replied quickly.
He laughed hard at her innuendo because he knew what she meant by it. The two of them enjoyed a sex life that culminated in very passionate, very frequent climaxes. They were pure sexual combustion.
“I see,” he said, playing along. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Manhattan, on the rocks,” she said.
“Make that two,” Derrick said smoothly to the bartender.
Almost before the order tumbled out of his mouth, two drinks slid in front of them. The bartender, like everyone else in the hotel, seemed to know their routine, but to Derrick, it never got old.
“Baby, you missed your calling,” he whispered, a compliment to her disguise. “You’re really good.”
She turned to him, wearing a very pleased-with-herself grin.
He smiled when he realized that his words could have been taken any number of ways, and she likely took it in the dirtiest. “I was talking about the hair and makeup,” he clarified. “I figure the other stuff goes without saying, but if you need a performance assessment or a little reassurance, I’ll be more than happy to do so.”
“Oh, how I love it when you sing my praises,” she said breathlessly.
“Have you had dinner?” he whispered, breaking character a little bit.
“No,” she said.
“Would you like to?” he asked. “You can chew while I tell you how magnificent I think you are.”
“I feel like a winner tonight,” she said. “I’d really like to do a little gambling.”
“A winner, huh? Me too.” He was in a daze, ready to take her right then and there. He nodded, mesmerized by
the sight of her. His mind swam with the best memories of their time together, mostly remembering what Corrine looked like on her back with her hair splayed out on the mattress as he drove into her.
They had the most electric chemistry he had ever experienced. Derrick had seen a lot of action before he got married. Nothing had been as thrilling as being with Corrine. No one could compare to her.
“Are you sure you prefer gambling over food?” he teased.
She pretended to look indecisive. “Hmm…”
“What if I ask you real nice-like?” he whispered. “I want to buy you the best dinner this town has to offer and then watch you eat it.”
Her face lit up with a smile, and she sparkled like the lights in Vegas. “Okay,” she cooed.
“Just like that?” he asked, perking up, happy that she was so easily flattered. “Whatever I say?”
“Maybe,” she said. “If you play your cards right. This is Vegas after all, mister.”
“Well, I don’t know then,” he said. “Maybe we should gamble before dinner. I want to score.”
Corrine gazed dreamily into his eyes, radiating something that Derrick could have sworn was adoration. He found that confusing, coming from a woman who claimed she was only there to have fun. He sighed at the notion, and for a response, she only laughed at his bewilderment.
He picked up his phone and texted the restaurant so they would hold a table for them. He then texted his order of jumbo prawns to the kitchen, his favorite appetizer. He took Corrine by the elbow, firmly but gently, and laid a tip on the counter for the bartender. “Come,” he said to her in a low, humming voice. “And don’t forget your drink.”
“Yes, sir,” she teased. She gave his backside a playful whack, and the girlish gleam in her beautiful eyes said it all. “I like when you’re bossy.”
“That’s good to know,” he replied, trying to keep from getting rock hard. Her voice was soft and sweet, with just a touch of tremble in it, but it was also hard-hitting, enough to sock him right between the eyes like a sledgehammer. Not only that, but the way she purred her words sent heat to his belly, threatening to wreck him.
The hostess sat them at one of the best tables in the restaurant, and Derrick made sure to thank her profusely. His conscience told him that table really should have gone to another guest, but he couldn’t pass it up, not if it added to another of their magical moments. With all that he asked of the staff, they would have been entirely justified to be sick of him, but he made sure he was very generous to them and always openly grateful.
Shortly after they were seated and their water was poured, their appetizer arrived.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said softly. “I ordered ahead.”
He loaded a prawn with cocktail sauce, just the way he knew she liked it, and fed her. No matter how many times he did this, he never tired of taking in her beautiful face with those perfect cheekbones and that delicate, straight nose. She was even more alluring, in a way, with makeup that made her look more brunette than the honey-blonde she was.
Her deep, dark lips parted to receive the shrimp, and again, his cock stiffened in his pants. Derrick felt his entire being transform as she once again drew out the predatory nature in him. The entire night would be about waiting to claim his sweet, delectable prey.
Next, it was her turn to feed him. Corrine was tall, five-nine, but he was five inches taller, giving them a comfortable difference in height. His ex-wife was a foot shorter, and something about that made her that much more annoying, like some pesky insect he wanted to squash.
Despite her stature, Corrine huddled over the table to feed him as if she were more petite than she actually was. She was every bit the sensual, full-grown woman, but there was something very impish about her style, something girly and awkward that only added to the excitement they both felt.
“Delicious,” he purred. “Everything tastes so much better coming from you.”
Her face twinkled as she watched him eat. “I could say the same,” she agreed.
When they could finally pull themselves away from the prawn eating, they picked up their menus. The offerings changed from time to time, but they pretty much both knew it by heart.
“What are you hungry for?” he asked.
“You,” she teased.
“Besides that,” he said with a wink.
“I’m not really sure,” she remarked. “I think we’ve had just about everything on the menu.”
“Oh, have we now?” he asked, a bit of a double-entendre of his own, one that caused them both to chuckle.
Suddenly, she clapped her menu shut. “Steak salad,” she announced decisively. “Rare.”
Derrick nodded in approval. “Well, you know what they say.”
“What?”
“You are what you eat.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Light and satisfying,” he said flirtatiously. “Not unlike yourself.”
“Ooh,” she replied with delight, then extended her foot under the table to stroke his leg.
Just from that slight contact, his veins surged with passion. The sensation stirred him both physically and mentally, and he pressed his eyes closed. Everything Corrine Smith did was such a turn-on.
He cupped her ankle, gripping it firmly to stop her, then let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, that’s enough, missy,” he cautioned. “Unless you’re prepared to put on a show for your fellow diners.”
“If you need help cooling off, we can talk about your ex-wife,” she teased.
Derrick’s stomach twisted. The mention of Lindsay nearly killed his appetite. “Shit,” he muttered. “That’ll do it.”
As if she didn’t pick up on his strong reaction, she pressed, “Was it exactly what you thought it was, more money?”
“Yup.”
She shook her head. “Why didn’t her lawyer remind her that she already signed a deal?”
“Because by going along with his client’s wishes, insane as they are, he can rack up more fees. He gets paid by the hour… a lot. It’s a bonus for him if she’s stupid enough to tack a bunch of needless hours on for him to invoice.”
Corrine’s eyes narrowed. “What a racket,” she protested.
“You catch on quickly, grasshopper, but you’re a hundred percent right. He has to be careful and sneaky, or he could be in trouble on ethics charges. The bottom line is that they’re all after my salary.”
Corrine tilted her head, and a wicked but playful glint danced in her eye. “Am I fooling around with a rich guy?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
It was probably one of the most personal questions she’d asked him. They had been seeing each other for a few months, and as vulnerable as they had been physically with one another, they had managed to skate around the personal details.
Of course, they knew what the other did for a living. She was a marketing consultant, a freelancer who worked from home. He had been to her place and put two and two together. She clearly did okay for herself, not that they’d ever discussed it.
Living and working where he did, Derrick knew that not everyone had to take care of themselves financially. There were many, like his ex-wife, who grubbed for more. Corrine was not that type, though, and he knew that for certain.
She was a smart woman, and she surely knew a person in his position, working for an obviously successful outfit, made a very good living. Nevertheless, she never expected him to pay for everything. Since the onset of their affair, which entailed a lot of drinking and dining out, they were very much of the same mindset. While they didn’t keep score, they acted like partners when it came to financing their fun, practically going Dutch most of the time.
“No, baby,” Derrick finally answered, laughing off the question. “I’m flat broke.”
“Mmm,” she said deliciously. “Might need to figure out an arrangement. Maybe you can do something to earn your keep.” She turned his hands over in hers, gently inspecting them. “Doesn’t appear that you’re accu
stomed to hard labor. You must be the brainy type.”
“I am good with figures,” he said huskily. “And rest assured that I’m actually very, very good with my hands.”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Good to know,” she replied, obviously liking his answer. “Wait.” She swam her hands all over herself sensually. “Yes, it’s coming back to me. I believe you’re right. You’re very good with your hands.”
They had reached it again, that point in their meal where they often walked away without finishing. In fact, they seldom stuck around long enough for the main course, and they preferred to have one another for dessert. Like always, they were about to ask for their check to leave when they were unexpectedly interrupted.
“Corrine? Corrine Smith? Damn, is that you?”
Corrine’s face colored with the most adorable blush when a man recognized her, even in her wig and makeup. Derrick made a mental note that he would have to evoke that kind of flattery again at a later time because he found it extremely attractive. The only trouble was that she seemed to be agitated by the man, and that agitation wasn’t just from the embarrassment of being caught out in public in a costume. For that reason, right off the bat, Derrick found the intruder annoying.
“Yes,” she said hesitantly. “It’s me.”
“Why are you dressed up like that?” he asked, laughing in an exaggerated fashion that had eyes staring at them from across the room. “Is it Halloween or something?”
Derrick scowled at him, wondering how Corrine knew such a doofus.
She raised her eyebrows, as if somewhat blindsided by the moment, and then introduced Derrick. “Derrick, this is Sean Davis, a client. He owns a construction company.”
“You made, uh, quite an entrance there, buddy,” Derrick said in the friendliest, lightest tone possible, his sarcasm totally lost on the uninvited guest.
“Not my first time here,” Sean said, beaming with pride. “We did some work on this place.” He turned his attention back to Corrine. “So, what’s with the get-up?”
“Do you always insult the way people dress?” Derrick asked, struggling to show any restraint.