“I love ya, Lyd.”
“I love you too, girl. Now, spill.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jake
I don’t get to leave the office until just after seven o’clock. If it’s not the accounting department fucking up, then it’s the event planners. I seriously need to consider hiring some new staff to help with the workload. Business is booming, which is great, but I have so much to deal with that I need to employ people who can make decisions without my need for approval.
Eric is waiting outside Waters Industries when I exit, and I practically run to the limo, gratefully sinking into the back seat. I instruct Eric to take me straight home as I check my phone messages. There are twenty of the damn things, but the only one that I am interested in reading is from Stacey.
I open the text message and start to read it, and when I finish reading, I feel myself getting annoyed that I wasn’t able to read it earlier. Fuck. I wanted to speak to her about her job tonight. I try to call her, but it goes straight to voicemail. Bollocks.
Where the bloody hell would she be?
I sigh and try to think of where she might have gone. It doesn’t take me long to figure it out, especially after our conversation earlier today.
“Change of plans, Eric. Take me to The Den.”
Stacey
“Dang, baby girl, your booty is looking mighty fine in that itty-bitty dress,” Martin says as I walk up to him. I place a kiss on his cheek and we enter The Den. My choice of a black bodycon dress appears to be a good one. “Your man is not going to be happy when he sees you wearing that.”
“Pfft. Tough.”
“Oooo, fighting talk, I like it. Don’t ever lose that sass of yours, babe.”
We reach the bar and order some drinks. There are still agency staff working here, but I’m hoping that I can rectify all of that as soon as possible.
We choose to sit at the corner of the bar counter, and I perch myself carefully on a bar stool.
Maybe this dress is a bit too short? One wrong move and I will be giving the patrons an eyeful.
“So, where is Clayton tonight?” I ask, wanting to get to the bottom of what is going on. I sip my cocktail and enjoy the cool sensation working its way down my throat.
“Oh, uh, you know, busy working,” Martin stammers.
“I’m not buying it, Mart.”
“What do you mean?” he says, avoiding eye contact with me.
“I know that something is going on between you guys. Are you having problems?”
“If you must know, Clayton and I are taking a break. He moved out a couple of days ago,” Martin says with a sigh. My eyes go wide with shock. I knew that something was amiss, but I never imagined that Clayton would have moved out.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You don’t need to hear about my failing love life, baby girl. Not when yours is so freakin’ hot right now.”
“That’s a shitty excuse, Martin. You are my friend, and you should have told me. I feel awful that you have been going through all of that on your own.” First Lydia keeps things from me, and now Martin. Am I sending some sort of signal out for my friends to keep quiet about anything that is troubling them?
“I haven’t told anybody, Stace. I was hoping that he would be back after one night away. I think that it’s over, for good.” Martin looks so sad.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “If it’s meant to be then we will find a way back to one another.”
“I hope you do.” I give him a smile but inside I feel sadness for my friend. Martin seems to be consumed by his own thoughts for a moment and I sip my drink as I wait for him to gather his thoughts.
“Anyway,” he says suddenly, making me jump. “Enough about Clayton. Are we here to party or not?” He drains his cocktail and attracts the bar tender. He orders two more drinks and a couple of tequila shots.
Shit, this is going to be a messy one.
Jake
I spot Stacey from across the room. She looks fucking hot in a figure-hugging black dress. Too fucking hot, actually. I almost barrel over there and carry her back to mine like some macho caveman. However, I manage to restrain myself.
It doesn’t escape my notice that there are several men drooling whilst watching her dance.
Fucking letches.
I can see that she is with Martin. I have only seen him a couple of times, but I can tell that his dress sense was toned down on those occasions. He’s wearing a lime-green shirt and electric-blue trousers. It’s enough to give you a headache from looking at him.
I watch Stacey as she laughs and shakes her ass in time to the music. I stalk her with my eyes, like prey as she walks to the bar and leaves her companion to tear up the dance floor, and I smile to myself.
I think now may be the time to surprise her.
Stacey
I wait at the bar to be served, when some guy stands beside me and decides to try and chat me up.
“Did you fall from heaven?” he shouts in my ear. I roll my eyes and try to catch the bartender’s attention. The guy continues to try his luck. “You are bloody gorgeous. Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thank you. I can buy my own.”
“Ah, come on. One little drink won’t hurt.”
“I said no.”
“Just one drink. No strings.” Fair play, this guy isn’t going to give up easily.
“Look, mate,” I say as I turn my body to face him with one hand resting on my hip. “I’m not interested. I don’t need you to buy me a drink because I’m not going to dance with you, I’m not going to kiss you, and I’m not going to sleep with you. You are wasting your time. Why don’t you run along and try your charms on someone else?” I turn back to face the bar, hoping that he will go away now that I have made it clear to him that I have no desire to do anything with him.
“Oh, so you play hard to get, do you? I like that in a woman.”
Ugh, is this guy for real? What is it with men who think that they can hassle women on a night out? I’m going to have to be even more blunt with this moron.
“You have a couple of options here, so listen carefully.” The guy looks like it’s Christmas morning as he leans in closer. “Option number one, you can continue to harass me, and I will have your ass kicked out of here. Option number two, I can knee you in the crotch which would be highly embarrassing for you. And then there is option number three––”
“What’s that then?” he interrupts, not looking quite as jolly as he did a few minutes ago.
“Option three is that you turn around and walk back over to your group of buddies over there, and we can forget that this conversation ever happened.” I smile sweetly as he looks at me and then looks to his friends who are unsubtly trying to egg him on.
“I think I’ll just leave you to it,” he answers, clearly sensing that I am being completely serious.
“Good idea,” I say. I wave him away and he walks back to his friends, his shoulders slumped slightly. I shake my head and return my attention to the bartender, who is now on the opposite side of the bar serving a group of ladies who are clearly half pissed already.
I sigh and close my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. I feel someone brush against my arm and I swallow down my annoyance.
I swear, if that’s another asshole who is going to try his luck, I am going to punch them.
I open my eyes and look to the side of me.
My heart starts to pound, and my breath catches in my throat.
“Good evening, Miss?” His voice is like liquid gold. Smooth and silky. His chiselled features are beautiful, and the slight stubble on his chin makes him look sexy as hell. He holds his hand out for me to shake.
“Paris.” I answer, trying to stop my hand from trembling. I place my hand in his and immediately I feel the electricity zip between us. I gulp as his eyes settle on my lips.
“What a beautiful name. I saw you shoo
t that other guy down, but may I buy you a drink?”
Hell yeah you can buy me a drink. I obviously don’t say this out loud thank goodness.
“No, I’m okay, thank you. My friends always told me not to accept drinks from strange men.”
“Is that so?” he says, seeming slightly amused. “Your friends must be very wise people.” He grins at me and my knees almost give way. I slowly pull my hand out of his grasp and grip the edge of the bar for support. “So, you’re not looking for any male attention this evening then?”
“Uh, no,” I reply quickly. “My boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate me interacting with other men.” My voice has become raspy, my throat dry.
“I can’t say that I blame him. Whoever he is, he is a very lucky man.” I can feel the blush creeping up from my neck and to my cheeks. The bartender chooses this moment to come over, allowing me to divert my attention. I order two shots of tequila as one isn’t going to be enough. I wait for the bartender to bring me my shots, and I can feel the guy’s eyes on me the whole time.
The bartender brings my drinks over and I down them both before he has even brought my change back. I need to see if the alcohol will calm my nerves.
“Wow. Thirsty?” the guy asks me.
“Yeah. It’s all the dancing,” I reply feeling a little foolish at giving such a crappy answer.
“Hmm. I did see you up there earlier,” he says, indicating to the dance floor. “I must say, you do know how to, uh, move, shall we say?”
Christ, he was watching me?
How long for?
The mere thought turns me on more than it should.
“Uh, anyway, I better be getting back to my friend,” I say, needing to get away from him.
“Sure. Nice to meet you, Miss Paris. I hope to run into you again some time.” I nervously smile and return to the dance floor, on shaky legs.
Luckily, Martin remains unaware of my altercation at the bar. I can still feel the guy’s eyes on me as I start to dance. Ciara’s, “Dance like we’re Making Love,” starts to play and I become very aware of my dance moves.
I bump and grind as my skin heats. I turn to face the guy at the bar, and our eyes lock. The sizzle between us is so immense that I almost orgasm there and then.
What the fuck are you doing?
You shouldn’t be acting this way in front of all of these people.
I can’t help it though. I am drawn to this man like a magnet. I thought that I had felt attraction before, but this is a whole new feeling entirely.
I shake my head and avert my gaze. I need to stop behaving this way. I turn back to dance with Martin, and to forget about the beautiful man that is sat at the bar.
“Baby girl, you are on fire,” Martin shouts at me. I just smile at him and let my body go with the beat of the music.
As I continue to dance, I feel someone tap me on my shoulder from behind. I stop dancing and whirl around to see that the bartender is stood there. I look at him and I can feel my face pull into a frown.
“Are you Stacey?” he asks me.
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“I’m afraid so. The owner would like to see you in his office.” What? The owner?
“Why would the owner want to see me?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but he said that it was urgent. If you could please follow me, I’ll take you to his office.” I turn to Martin and tell him that I will be back shortly, and he waves me off as he dances with a couple of lads.
I follow the bartender and rack my brains as to why the owner would want to see me. Even in the time that I have worked at The Den, I have never met him. I wouldn’t even know what he looks like, actually.
I expect to be taken to Lydia’s office, but the bartender leads me down the corridor that goes past the toilets. We keep going until we reach a door right at the back of the building. The bartender stops outside the door, turns to me, and tells me to go on in before he heads back out to the main room.
I feel slightly nervous as I stare at the door. I consider bolting, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I take a deep breath, open the door, and walk in.
The room is dimly lit and straight away I can see that it is an office, but a much plusher one than Lydia’s.
How come I have never been in here before?
There is a massive black, leather corner sofa dominating the right-hand side of the room, with a sleek coffee table in front of it. Opposite the sofa is the most beautiful carved oak desk that I have ever seen. I walk over and run my hands along the cool wood. There is a large television screen on the wall to my left, and then there is a door to the right of it.
I wonder where that door leads?
I am tempted to take a look, but I don’t know where the owner is, and I wouldn’t want him to catch me snooping. I am about to walk over and take a seat on the sofa whilst I wait, when the door I have just been wondering about opens, and out steps the handsome guy I was talking to at the bar. He closes the door behind him and smiles.
“Take a seat, Miss Paris,” his voice booms over to me. “Would you like a drink now?” He makes his way to a small cabinet in the corner of the room and waits for me to answer.
“Yes, please,” I manage to squeak out. I feel my legs go weak as my eyes focus on his ass. He is wearing suit trousers that are just snug enough to give me a glimpse of how firm it is.
Somehow, I make myself walk to the sofa and take a seat. The guy brings over two glasses containing a light brown liquid. Exactly what it is doesn’t really bother me at this point in time. My hairs stand on end as he decides to come around the table and sit on it, so that he is inches from me. If I were to shuffle forward slightly, then our legs would be touching.
“Here,” he says, handing me one of the glasses. I take it from him, drain the contents and put the glass by the side of him, on the coffee table. The liquid burns as it slides down the back of my throat.
“You are quite a little tease, aren’t you, Miss Paris?” My eyes go wide at his comment. “Oh, I’m not complaining. I do believe that your dancing out there was for my benefit?” he asks, his mouth pulling into a slight smile. I can’t answer him. My mouth has lost its main function, so I just nod. “I thought so.”
He takes a sip of his drink and leans in close to me. So close that I can feel his breath on my skin. I feel like I could almost faint from the proximity of this ridiculously hot guy. This man is making me experience a level of desire that I haven’t experienced before. His hand comes to my chin and tilts my face up so that I am eye level with him.
“Well, Miss Paris, shall we relieve some of your sexual tension?” I whimper at his words. He seems to take that as a yes and his lips lock with mine.
Our kiss starts out soft, but it soon becomes frenzied. My hands move of their own accord up to his hair and I run my fingers through his silky locks. His hands find their way to my thighs, and he begins a slow caress until he reaches the hem of my dress. He lifts me up slightly and shimmies my dress up, exposing my lace thong.
He breaks away from my lips and pulls my dress up further, essentially unwrapping me in one fluid motion. His gaze roams over my lingerie clad body, and I bite my bottom lip as I await his next move.
“Such a beautiful body,” he whispers as he kisses my neck.
I feel like I have died and gone to heaven.
I unbutton his shirt and push it off of his shoulders. His hands caress my breasts, and I moan into his mouth, causing him to growl in response.
“Please,” I whisper. “I need to feel you.”
He unclasps my bra and lets it fall to the floor. His finger brushes over my thong, touching my clit through the fabric, and I cry out in pleasure. He stands up, pulling me with him, and I undo his trousers. I pull them down to just below his ass, freeing his erection. I pant as I admire his manhood and then move down his body until I am able to lick his length with my tongue, making him gasp.
“You are a bad girl, Miss Paris.” I take his full length into my mouth an
d begin to move back and forth. I become like a woman possessed as I devour him. He groans in pleasure as I roll my tongue over the tip of his cock. I grip his firm ass as I move him all the way to the back of my throat.
“Jesus,” he cries out. He then abruptly manoeuvres himself so that he is no longer in my mouth. I look up at him in question.
“Stand up,” he commands. I do as he asks, and he hooks his fingers into my thong, pulling it down my legs and then motioning for me to step out of them. I stand before him, in nothing but my shoes and I don’t feel the least bit shy.
He steps back towards me, closing any gap between us. His hands rest just under my ass and then he lifts me up. I lock my legs around his waist and his cock touches my sex, making me quiver.
He moves so that my back is against the wall and gives me no warning as he plunges into me, making my sex convulse around him. I grip his arms with my fingers, and I scream at the sheer force as he starts a punishing rhythm.
Fuck, this is good.
I can feel my insides clench as my orgasm approaches fast. I try to hold back from my release, but this feels so good that I can’t control it.
“I’m close,” I whisper.
“Hold on,” he says in that smooth voice of his. I whimper at his words, trying desperately not to give in and let go.
“I can’t,” I say breathlessly.
“You can. Just wait for me.”
The pleasure is building inside of me, and I know that I am going to shatter into a million pieces. Just when I think that I can’t hold on any longer, he speaks.
“Come for me,” he says, locking his eyes with mine.
I allow myself to relinquish the tiny bit of control that I had left, and I scream out in pleasure, feeling his hot liquid shooting into me seconds later.
My body turns to jelly in the aftermath and I cling onto him limply as he carries me back to the sofa. We are both panting, and that has got to be one of the most intense encounters that I have ever had.
He lies me down and then covers me with his body. I start to shake from the sheer violence of my orgasm. He looks into my eyes and I feel like he is penetrating my soul with his stare. We have such a strong connection, on every level.
The Complete Perfect Series Page 41