Authors: Meg Silver
Any effort she made to keep herself under control then was futile. Brandon was moving faster and faster. Both of them raced toward release. He pulled her down farther, and began to pound into her, pelvis slapping against the back of her thighs and buttocks.
The faster he went, the harder it became to fend off that hot, liquid friction inside. She could feel her pussy tightening around his cock. Each time he thrust past that bright ring of pleasure inside, the pressure fed into an orgasm, building and building until she couldn’t contain it anymore. Brandon had to tighten his hold and then cried out as her inner muscles began to pulse, heaving her off into a mindless, physical joy while chemical pleasure saturated her veins.
Brandon came hard, his entire body seizing, bringing her down on top of him with brute force. She might have toppled over if not for the vice-grip he maintained on her hips, and when he did finally return to himself, she was still floating somewhere nearby, still fuzzy and disconnected while he lifted her off of him, if only long enough to turn her around and ease his still-hard cock back into her pussy.
Caution tried to fight its way into her notice as Brandon leaned against the back of the couch and drew her along with him. One hand slid up behind her neck to draw her down to him. Very good kisser. Long, deep, commanding tastes that prolonged the warm, sensual afterglow. She didn’t realize how long until Eric began to remind her with some not-so-subtle throat-clearing that lingering this way, sticking around and allowing that clingy, intimate harmony to form with a client was severely frowned upon. Connecting emotionally was bad for client and performer both. She had enjoyed Brandon, and sexual enjoyment was all they ever needed to share. The rest belonged to Lily, the one who had sent her here.
Amanda cupped the back of his head and gave Brandon one last kiss before hurrying back into her clothes. Brandon watched, and Amanda could see she’d accomplished her mission. He looked half asleep. Completely content and so relaxed that without a prod or two, someone might walk in on him later to find him sound asleep, right where she’d left him.
Eric opened the door to motion Tony back into the office. After collecting the rest of her things, she gathered Brandon’s clothing and set it on the couch beside him.
He asked, “When can I see you again?”
Tony stepped forward to answer for her. “That’s up to Lily.”
Amanda thought it harsh, the way Tony had dropped Lily’s name like an accusatory anvil, but she supposed it was the sensible thing to do. She’d made a mistake, lingering with the client, and the mixed message had to be corrected as soon as possible.
Brandon glanced a dose of venom in Tony’s direction, but when his attention returned to Amanda, he was fine again. One thin, lined cheek creased into half a smile. “Thank you. That was wonderful.”
She returned an equally muzzy smile and when she and Eric got back into the car, she was half expecting what came next.
“Look,” Eric said. “I’m not your boss or anything, but that wasn’t very smart, what you did back there. You know the rules. Once a client is satisfied, you get out ASAP, and I think our boy Brandon could become a problem if you gave him half a chance.”
She didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Eric was right. She had a problem keeping her head in the game. Dr. Carpenter had told her once that if she was still having problems, they could try certain therapies. Maybe she should follow up on it tonight. The doctor was supposed to be at the Accord adjournment mixer, and they had less than two hours before they were due to report.
Eric drove her straight home to shower and dress while he rushed off to do the same. Heeding an advisory from Kara that everyone wore ‘stuffy black’ to these functions, Amanda had no trouble picking something. She had used to specialize in stuffy black. The matte satin tulip-hem tank dress she chose might not qualify as stuffy, exactly, but the simple, feminine lines would stand up to even Kara’s critical eye. Then, with her hair up, light makeup, and plain gold jewelry, she braced herself for whatever came next.
Eric returned, looking both enormous and dapper in tux. He drove her back toward Fantasy Heights, circling around to the north, and finally turning between high wrought iron gates with the name
Prescott
embedded in the ivy design.
Fitting, Amanda supposed. The Three Sisters Ball was named for the original Prescott sisters who’d founded a boarding house all those years ago. She had heard the house on this property was quite something. The thickly wooded drive eventually let them out into pristinely maintained grounds. The centerpiece of the Prescott estate, once owned by the son of one of the original three Prescott sisters, was a palatial plantation-style house two stories high, loaded with enough embellishment to satisfy even the most rabid Victorian-style enthusiast.
Eric asked, “Nice digs, eh?”
“Unreal. Who lives here?”
“Nobody. Josh moved out after Kay died. He lives in the gate house now. The Accord uses this place. Sometimes the resort, for special events.”
Amanda shook her head. That must be one hell of a contracting company Josh was running. Of course, all this must have been inherited from Kay, but still, the man must be worth billions.
Cars lined the drive, and her thoughts were a confused mural of Josh, Thomas, Nicole and Derek as she and Eric passed through a foyer and hall before reaching a cavernous ballroom. Lots of people waiting, lots of familiar faces. Ben, Kara and Beverly stood together in one cluster. Jerod Hughes and Ridley had paired off, sitting at a cocktail table with Ridley posed on a chair, her pine-green silk dress slit up to her hairline.
She was beautiful to look at, to be sure. The ugly bits showed whenever she opened her mouth but Jerod didn’t appear to care. He smiled at something Ridley said, and Amanda felt a pang of sympathy. At his age, she’d been equally determined to fall in love with Darren. Maybe Jerod had to learn the hard way, too. All she could do was hope that Ridley didn’t manage to make things permanent before Jerod came to his senses.
He glanced over and caught her staring, and instead of flinching away from eye contact, Amanda maintained it.
Wake up
, she wanted to tell him.
Run
.
For half a second, she thought Jerod might have gotten the message, the way his eyes returned an oddly sad smile. But then his mouth softened, and he gave her a polite nod.
“There’s Max,” Eric said.
The pair of them moved in quick unison to join Thomas’s observer.
Eric asked him, “Why are the owners still in with them? And why are they running so late?”
Max looked weary. “Freakin’ madness. Thomas just killed West’s court case.”
“What court case?”
Max explained that West had filed suit against the resort for wrongful termination. “He rolled in with about eight attorneys earlier, looking to settle, but Thomas bitch-slapped them with West’s off-site criminal activity. The attorneys advised West to take his original severance package and run. They left an hour ago. West followed about fifteen minutes later. Now we’re waiting for the others to wrap—Ah, shit. That man has some planet-sized balls.”
Max nodded to something behind Amanda and Eric, and they turned to find Dr. Carpenter coming through the foyer door. Behind her came Robert Warnous.
Oh, God, Amanda thought. Why was he here anyway?
Max said, “I suppose that one hasn’t leaked out yet, either. Warnous proposed to Steph last night.”
Eric muttered something dark, but Max was quick with the reassurance. “Relax, man. She hasn’t given him an answer yet.”
Amanda turned a sharp eye on her observer. There’d been a kindness, a bolstering edge to the way Max spoke that made Amanda scour Eric for any confirmation of what her gut was suddenly whispering. Watching the way Eric tried to marshal his features into disinterest, to mask enmity and hurt as he stared at the offending rock star, she knew that Robert Warnous had a rival for Steph’s affection.
She reflexively glanced at Max, but his eyes were on Eric, broadcasting sympathy and despair. He must not hold out much hope that Eric would save Steph from making the worst decision yet.
Max then turned to her. “I’d be ready for just about anything, if I were you. Tempers were running awful hot, last I was in there. Thomas said I was supposed to remind you to be the oil on the water. Do the job, keep things running smooth. Everything shipshape and profitable.”
Thomas was right on the money. Too many people were pushing too many desires and agendas around here. She had to be the exception. At the bank, she’d always been amazed the effect one person keeping their cool could have on everyone around them.
All heads turned when the double doors at the far end of the room finally opened. Out first were Thomas and Marla, walking side by side. Behind them followed Josh flanked by two unfamiliar men. Directly after came Fiona Cornell and another stranger, simply the most exquisitely beautiful woman Amanda had ever lain eyes upon. Enormous green eyes, porcelain skin, dark hair cut into a precise bob. Her black suit was tailored to show off a tiny waist, and the three-quarter length sleeves showcased delicate wrists. A true stunner.
“Who’s that with Fiona?”
Eric made some sort of guttural sound and Max sounded unusually dry. “Jennifer Grove, soul-rending hell-beast that she is.”
“Wow,” Amanda said. “Not a fan, I take it.”
Max defended himself. “Yeah, well, all I’m saying is, don’t be fooled. She might look pretty, but she’d fence infant kidneys to turn a buck.”
Amanda had no chance to follow up on that outrageous character assessment. Thomas had spotted her, and it felt as if her brain tripped over the rug at the sight of him bearing down upon her. He was all sharp edges, dark eyes glittering with temper, gait strong and powerful. His gunmetal gray suit had been tailored to showcase his lean torso and hips. A white shirt, open at the color exaggerated warm, gold skin and making his hair look extra black.
Josh and the two unfamiliar men followed behind him. The two groups were about to collide when one final person emerged from the conference room. Steph. All alone, until Warnous and Dr. Carpenter hurried to meet her.
Amanda wanted to watch the reunion but Thomas had caught her hands, and she did what felt right, stretching up on a tiptoe to buss his cheek and feel a warm, bone-deep sigh of relief when he gave her right hand an extra-tight squeeze of reassurance. Holding firm, he turned to face the others, sidestepping slightly to get a shoulder ahead of her, as if he were protecting her from an onrushing hoard.
Only Josh did he allow to get past him. Amanda watched Josh’s eyes, struck suddenly with the way others said Josh got all quiet and polite when he was trying not to take someone’s head off. Easy to tell he’d had enough of the Accord to last him a while.
Understandable. She had spent enough time with Josh by then to know that he was at his happiest when he was busy with his contracting company. Fantasy Heights was a yoke he didn’t carry lightly.
Reflex made her step a bit to the side, shielding him even further from the two men who, she noticed, had expectant airs, their attention focused solely on her.
Standing there, she realized how desensitized she had become. Six months ago, had she seen either of these men, her jaw would have dropped. The first stood six foot seven at least, and he was built like a battle tank. Short black hair, mahogany skin, and arresting features. Forcefully handsome, but remote and icy as the arctic.
The second guy looked puny in comparison, though he must top six feet himself. Also dark-haired with a steely demeanor, but this one had pitchy eyes like Thomas that could melt the habit off a nun. Gorgeous, and dressed in a charcoal suit with a black shirt beneath.
Thomas made quick introductions. Both men were Accord members. The huge one was Wade Fraser, Thomas’s superior officer. The other was Mercury Milazzo, Marla’s boss, also a thief and murderer, according to the man’s own son.
She would never have guessed. Maybe he was on his best behavior here at the resort but the man couldn’t have been any warmer or more polite in his greeting.
As for Wade, she could tell right away they would never be pals. And he was less than pleased with Thomas. That much became clear the way he glared when Thomas turned to Josh, then leaned closer to her, whispering, “You should tell Josh congratulations. He’s taken Steph’s place on the Accord.”
Amanda reflexively swiveled around. No wonder Josh was upset. The Accord seat was yet another encroachment on the life he wanted to lead.
He met her eyes, and she knew. This hadn’t been his choice. This new responsibility had been hoisted on him, thanks to Steph’s erratic behavior lately.
Her mouth told him congratulations. Her eyes told him she was sorry, and his response was equally layered. The corners of his eyes wrinkled, but that was as far as his features would allow him to come to a smile.
While she was still looking at Josh, Wade had a word with Thomas.
Sotto voce
, but still heated enough that she could make out what he said. “You and I need to have a talk. Right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Did she even want to know what that was about? Likely not, she thought, and took note of the way Thomas was overtly touching and favoring her. Not that she minded, really, but others were noticing, too. Especially Marla and Mercury.