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Now she looked a little more accepting.

  “How’d you know Trish?” Trish—hot, cool, clearly unavailable, and by a pretty-boy with a bad temper when it came to someone touching his girl.

  “We used to work together.” With an expression, the girl looked around.

  “Here?” he asked with surprise.

  “Past life and all that.”

  “You were a dancer here? It seems I arrived too late.” Leaning back, he put his feet up on the table. The guy was still hanging in there, hoping Ricky would go away. “Then again, perhaps a good thing, or I would be spending the night too distracted watching you move.”

  Raising her chin, she looked down her nose at him. She was still interested, though. Ricky knew how to pull girls and this girl was on the hook. The guy, though, didn’t know when it was time to throw in the towel. “So how about that drink? We do have to take care of our alumni, don’t we?”

  Her eyes travelled down his body. Oh, yes, she was on the hook. Ricky shifted so his muscles tensed. She knew what she wanted.

  Chapter 16

  “What do you want, shaken or stirred?” the guy said as he led Shania away from her seat.

  “That depends on what you are serving.” She hadn’t exactly intended on going home with anyone, but she’d been open to it. She wore tight satin jeans and a silver top with chains crisscrossing along her back.

  His voice tingled along her skin and pooled like molten heat in her gut. No one had seduced her by speaking before, but there was no denying it—along with those eyes that had already undressed her. Her nipples were hard and standing to attention. In truth, she could really use a good hard one. It had been a while and she was finally past the distraction of moving back here.

  It certainly wouldn’t hurt spending some time with a hot DJ, whose eyes roamed her like something savage. Leading her to the bar, he placed her down on a stool at the edge of the bar and walked around. “And what will you be serving me?” she asked.

  “I thought I’d mix you something extra special.”

  “Extra special, huh?”

  “I actually make a spectacular banana chocotini.”

  “Sounds fancy.”

  “Little umbrella and everything.”

  He went to work, pouring shots into a silver shaker. After a good shake, he poured it into a martini glass and slowly shifted it towards her. “Give it a try and tell me that’s not the best martini you’ve ever had.”

  She leaned down on her elbows while he watched her take a sip of the clear liquid. It was cool and tasted of both banana and chocolate.

  “Once you’ve had one of mine, you can’t go back,” he lamented, his eyes sending her a warning. “I saw you the other day. Haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

  “So you thought to ensnare me with one of your martinis?”

  “Whatever it takes,” he said with a grin. His finger ran lightly along her arm. There was no doubt he was angling for a lay, and she still wasn’t opposed to the idea.

  “I suppose in bartending you have a fall-back career if the music thing doesn’t work out, but then, Jesus has given you top billing.”

  He didn’t say anything, didn’t act bashful at the compliment. He knew he was good. Was he that good in bed? She was of mind to find out. “I think it’s past my bedtime,” she said.

  “Can’t have that.” The lights were catching in his dark eyes. She couldn’t tell what colour they were. It didn’t matter. “Better take you home, then.”

  The cab ride wasn’t long and he led her up to a typical bachelor pad. Killer sound system, large flat screen and little else. The kitchen looked untouched. He opened the door to the little balcony and let the warm air in. A single floor lamp was the only light and he didn’t bother turning on anymore.

  “Want another drink?” he said as he urged her out on the balcony.

  “Nope,” she said, uninterested in further delays.

  Turning, he pulled her to him, lightly running his hand down her side. “Shall I tell you all the cruel things you’ve been doing in my thoughts?” he purred, his voice like satin down her spine. Was he born with a voice like that or had he cultivated it? If so, more guys should. It was near irresistible.

  “Why don’t you show me?”

  Reaching for her, he kissed her. Hot lips stroking along hers. His front pressed to hers and he was firm and hard. Clearly hard. A hand cupped her backside and pressed her to him and a thrill spilled down into her sex, pulsing with anticipation.

  He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chest to her. He was proud of it, having clearly worked to achieve it. It’d be rude not to appreciate it. She ran her hands over the mounds of muscle and down his abs, his cock straining in his pants.

  A finger ran down from her neck and flicked her equally hard nipple, then rolled it lightly between his fingers. A flare of heat shot down her.

  These satin jeans were a bit of a pain now. They could be fucking by now if she’d worn a skirt, but they looked so good. Pressing herself to him, she rubbed herself along the outline of his cock and he groaned. No harm teasing a bit, but was she teasing herself more? Her sex pulsed. She’d be soaking the crotch of her pants soon, but she didn’t care. Hungry lips stroked down her neck and his chest stroked along her sensitive nipples, teasing her right back. His hands were kneading her backside, grinding her to him.

  No, no more of this teasing. She wanted him pounding into her now and she popped the button on her jeans. They were tight, but he helped by crouching down and pushing them down her legs, slipping the strappy heels off her feet and divesting her of any impediments.

  Staying where he was, he nuzzled into her, his tongue finding her clit. She had to hold on as he worked her, urging her legs apart to give him better access. Warm wetness stroked her aching nub until she moaned, her body radiating tension. Her nipples were so hard they hurt. Reaching further, a hard tongue entered her, pushing out and in until an orgasm raced through her, almost catching her off guard.

  He definitely knew what he was doing with that tongue, she conceded as she tried to re-gather her wits. Looking down, she saw his cock, released and hard, jutting up at her. It was a lovely sight. She kept her wide stance as he stood up. He wasn’t cheated in the cock department, a proud member reached for her entrance, slipping inside, filling her until he lifted her off the floor. She was sensitive from her release, but it felt so good.

  Encased in her, he carried her inside, through the living room to the bed, where he laid her down and slowly stroked in and out of her, placing her calves up along his shoulder. His chest strained with the effort. He wasn’t rushing, enjoying every moment of it, watching her appreciate his ministrations. Slowly but surely, he worked her up to another orgasm, her body convulsing with pleasure around him.

  “Mmmh,” he said appreciatively then stopped, pulling her legs down and around him, trapping her down on him between his solid body and the edge of the bed, getting both her clit and her g-spot in one. The tension surged as he ground himself into her. Even more sensitive now, it was uncomfortable until it turned to sheer, melting heat. She could feel his cock twitch in her, preparing to pulse. It was so hot, she got pulled into another orgasm, powerfully and even a little painfully pulsing through her body. Every part of him was tense as he pumped into her, shaking, urgent and uncontrolled. A deep groan tore out her throat. She felt nothing but his cock inside her, big and demanding.

  The boy knew how to fuck, she conceded. He just about stole her orgasm from her, so strong she could barely move. Very nice. Shania wondered if she’d found a new fuck toy. She wouldn’t mind if that was the case, because someone gifted was hard to find. An unwelcome thought of Felix returned. What a shitty time for him to sneak into her mind, just as she was bathing in the afterglow of a hard and demanding cock inside her. But then he had a kind of abandon she’d never known before or found since. She couldn’t explain it, but it was something unique to him.

  Chapter 17

  The boardroom
was crowded when Felix made his way inside. It was one of the monthly planning meetings with the broader group. Without seeing her, he knew Shania would be there. Well, she wasn’t actually there yet. He’d scanned every face in the room, most with their attention on their phones or talking in hurried, hushed voices.

  He knew it was her as the door opened and she walked in wearing a tight, navy, pencil skirt and a white shirt. It was just that bit too tight. Couldn’t take the whore out of a girl like that. She laughed at something the guy following her said, with muted red lips. The guys in the office were probably going stir crazy with her around. Again, a sickly flare of unease unfurled in his stomach. He still couldn’t believe his father was polluting the company with trash like her.

  Sitting down, her shirt hugged around her breasts, splitting ever so slightly around the buttons. Her eyes sought his and she glared at him for a moment, as if challenging him in his dislike. She’d never cared that he hated her and that’s what really rubbed.

  Cordenay walked in and started the meeting, speaking from a standing position with flailing arms. Dominic didn’t bother with trivial things such as planning meetings. Actually, Felix suspected he was out of town at the moment.

  Now seated in a chair along the wall, Shania crossing her legs stole Felix’s attention away. Mostly she was hidden behind the table, but he could see her shifting, that smooth movement.

  Murmuring broke out across the room and obviously something interesting had been said, and he’d missed it. It was all her fault. Looking back, she had a surprised and delighted expression as if she liked what everyone else was in a tissy about.

  God, he hated her. A grade-A bitch, which was probably what upset him, because her grade-A bitchiness was supremely sexy.

  He’d seen her earlier the day before, sitting at her desk staring out that window. She had that expression on her face—sultry, like she got when she was thinking about sex. He’d seen that expression before. She was fucking someone.

  Looking around, Felix checked out the guys, wondering which one of them she was screwing. Naughty little trysts in the stationary cupboard, was it? Eventually, she would be found out for the scheming slut she was and he would finally be rid of her. Maybe he was being a bit harsh, but he was in the mood for ripping someone to pieces—her, actually. Problematically, he couldn’t actually do it, because she ripped right back. Did not take well to being bullied. Not that he was a bully—more of an anti-hero.

  For once, he wished Dominic would give him more power in this company. The first thing he’d do would be to give her marching orders.

  The meeting broke up and Felix hadn’t really heard any of it; he’d been too distracted. He’d have to get one of the admin girls to recount it for him later. Right now, he could use a breather, pull himself together. He decided to leave and get a coffee at the café across the road. It was a decent enough place and the coffee was passable, a damned sight better than the dribble the coffee machines in the kitchens produced.

  Dodging traffic, he made his way across the road, cursing when he saw a line in the café, but he wasn’t about to change his plans. Line it would be and he grumpily joined it after pushing the glass door open.

  Shortly after, someone took the position behind him and his hackles rose. Even without seeing her, he knew she was there, making him turn to confirm. That blouse really was too tight.

  “You need to stop staring at my tits, Felix,” she said.

  “Maybe you need to stop dressing like a carnival tart.”

  Her eyebrows rose and he turned his back on her, waiting patiently for this fucking line to move. “Never took you for such a prude. Or are you just being a dick? The guy who harps on about how girls dress. I guess they think it’s a little power trip.”

  “Or maybe they’re revolted with girls who sleaze their way ahead.”

  “Is that what I’m doing now, is it? Worried I’m doing to sleep with dear old dad again?” she said, amusement clear in her voice. Why? Was she going to?

  “You’re really not his cup of tea,” Felix said dismissively. Not entirely true, but for once, Felix was glad his father was in love with that trashy beautician. Not that Felix would mention that to anyone. It certainly wasn’t something Dominic was ready to admit. Felix couldn’t blame him, but it did prove that Dominic was open and attracted to girls of the lower orders. He’d hoped it was simply a reaction to the failure of his marriage and his relationship with Mother, who was anything but sleazy and trashy. No, Mother was anything but—the sheer opposite of Cheryl.

  Hopefully, Cheryl would keep Dominic immune from Shania. Felix hadn’t realised as their parents were divorcing that he’d have to beat women off his father with a stick, made worse by his obviously atrocious taste. Felix wouldn’t even consider that he himself had been about ready to make Shania his girlfriend for one mad moment, when he’d clearly lost his mind. Alright, fine; the attraction to trashy whore did perhaps run in the family.

  “Anyway, once he sees you working your way through the company, he’s hardly going to be your little cheering squad, is he?”

  Any of the girls in his circle would slap him right now, but not Shania. “Imagine all the things I’d learn along the way,” she said almost wistfully. She was teasing him and it really riled him. “Every guy in the company jumping to attention whenever I snapped my fingers.” The sharp snap of her fingers reverberated down his spine.

  Whore, whore, whore, he repeated in his mind. “Used up and discarded like a soiled tissue, more like.”

  Shania laughed. “I guess we’ll see who’s right.”

  Finally, the fucking line cleared away and Felix ordered his coffee with a tight voice, moving away from the counter to stand as far away from her as he could.

  Chapter 18

  Dinner was scheduled at a Moroccan-themed restaurant, designed with pinks, oranges and mauves. Heavy and low tables were surrounded by cushions and brass lanterns. For a moment, a thought of Cory flashed through Aggie’s mind. It had been a while since she’d thought of him, but she supposed when she’d been to Morocco last, she’d been with him. Maybe it was time to rewrite that memory with a new one.

  The group was more or less there when she arrived, taking her seat at the table. Jasmin had just returned from a shopping trip in London and wore something new—Gucci, if she wasn’t mistaken. Maybe that was something overdue as well, a good shopping trip—London or New York. In truth, Aggie wasn’t the most natural shopper—not in the league of Jasmin.

  Some kind of minty drink was presented to her and she tasted gin in it. It was gorgeous.

  “How are you, Miles?” she asked the guy sitting across the table from her.

  “Nothing much to report. Company going well. Had some real victories.”

  Miles had decided to do his own startup, some kind of app where people voted on the coolest bars or something. She wasn’t quite sure. He’d explain it, but she couldn’t really bring herself to do more than look enthused about it. They’d set up a little office and everything, and he’d hired developers. Figured himself the entrepreneur of the group. It might do alright for all she knew, but she did worry that Miles would lose interest after a while, but then you built and sold with techie startups, she’d heard, so that could work out well.

  “Heya,” Megan said, appearing at the table, her fingers entwined with her new flame, Ricky. She looked beamingly happy and effortlessly elegant. As much as Jasmin hated it, she couldn’t quite look as good as Megan always did. Money didn’t always buy style.

  Megan sat and folded her limbs. Ricky followed, crouching down, his thighs straining. The boy was fit, and attractive—sharp jaw and nose. Arched eyebrows that gave him a slightly aggressive expression, but he was smiling. “Hey,” he said to the table, his voice like silk.

  “How’s the DJ-ing going?” Dess asked.

  “Good,” Ricky said.

  “He’s been given the headlining spot,” Megan said proudly. “And it looks like he’s going to launch the new
club that Shine’s owner is opening.”

  “Jesus?” Jasmin asked.

  “You know him?”

  “He is utterly beautiful,” Jasmin sighed, who had always been into tall, dark and handsome, and Jesus had it in spades. British guys couldn’t pull off that romantic look that Spanish guys could; they just couldn’t pull off the machismo the same way. Aggie wasn’t sure she could handle that, but Jasmin had always been a sucker for it.

  Jasmin blushed slightly, giving herself away. Ricky looked like he was observing the scene; the times he’d been with them, he’d been slightly timid—out of his comfort zone. He did okay with the guys as they seemed perfectly interested in audio equipment and all that pointless stuff.

  Ordering a beer, he made himself look relaxed. Even for being out of his comfort zone, he was confident enough to swing it. She gave him credit for that. They were an intimidating group to rub along. Few outsiders ever really clicked with them. And this wasn’t a group where a DJ was held in any special regard.

  Megan’s fingers ran along his arm. She was totally into him. Aggie could see why—he had a dirty kind of sexiness to him. Like Jesus, sexuality came first in how they were perceived. You couldn’t help think of sex when you met them. She couldn’t see Megan being regarded that way; Aggie couldn’t see herself being perceived that way either. Megan was lots of things, but she wasn’t overtly sexy. Ricky was.

  Luckily, Aggie wasn’t saddled with Inns tonight as he had something to do at home. She didn’t bother finding out why. If he disapproved of her friends, he’d be disgusted by Ricky, probably worried that his working class roots were contagious.

  She wasn’t entirely surprised by Inns’ attitude. That way of thinking was rife back home, which Aggie found more self-limiting than anything. For all their superiority, and probably because of it, Inns and his kind were dull as dishwater. He was the one home alone sulking in his room, after all.