Confessions of a Greedy Girl
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From Madelynne Ellis, author of the bestselling books ‘A Gentleman's Wager' and ‘Anything but Vanilla'.
‘Confessions of a Greedy Girl' is perfect for fans of Sylvia Day and E L James.
Lyssa Payne loves being the centre of male attention.
Rather than committing to a single lover, Lyssa has an arrangement that allows her to play with a whole host of characters...
But the dynamics of Lyssa's relationships begin to change, when she meets enigmatic artist, Victor Alexander. Victor enforces a strictly no touch policy between them, a rule that's a constant source of irritation for Lyssa.
This annoyance is further exacerbated when Lyssa discovers that Victor has a gorgeous lover, Leif. Why should it be hands off for her, but hands on for actor, Leif?
Lyssa devises a plan to seduce Victor, but despite her best efforts, Victor remains firmly off limits. And as her fascination with him deepens, and her feelings grow more intense, her other playmates slowly desert her.
So what exactly is a greedy girl supposed to do to win the heart of the man she desires?
Other titles in the Secret Diary series are:
Confessions of a Kinky Wife by Justine Elyot
Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse by Lily Harlem
Confessions of a Kinky Divorcee by Lana Fox
Release date: April 18, 2013
Print pages: 192
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Confessions of a Greedy Girl
‘Lyssa! You could at least pretend to be listening while I’m telling you about my abysmal date. The odd acknowledgement wouldn’t hurt. Even a grunt, so I’m actually convinced you’re still alive.’
‘Huh? What?’ I glanced up from the theatre seating plan I’d been colouring for the last half hour—red for empty seats, blue for those that had already been reserved, and green for the corporate bookings—to find my favourite workmate glowering at me. The only trouble with working in the theatre box office was that it was either all go, phones ringing, people hammering on the window for attention, or else afternoons of endless, coma inducing nothingness. Programs didn’t need stapling, ice-cream didn’t need ordering, and even the drinks tickets for tonight’s interval were already printed. Of course I’d zoned out. ‘Sorry, Hats. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Go on, you were saying you touched him, right?’
Hattie scrunched two handfuls of her naturally jet black hair and sighed. ‘Jeez, Lyssa, you really weren’t listening, were you? Point one: the main focus of a first date is not to cop a feel of a guy’s tackle. Point two: Bryan never even kissed me. There’s no way he’d have let me grope him. We didn’t even shake hands.’
Surprised, and not entirely on board with Hattie’s version of dating, I plastered on a sheepish grin that would hopefully diffuse some of Hattie’s anger. When roused she bore a certain similarity to a Chinese firecracker, and she could be vicious with a staple gun.
‘It turns out he has OCD. It means he has to disinfect after he comes into contact with anything foreign. We lasted twenty minutes before I called it off. I couldn’t take the scent of alcohol gel any longer.’
‘OK. I can see how that might have caused some problems.’ It’d definitely rule out anything similar to the night I’d enjoyed at the gallery. Though I’d suffered for it the following morning, and it’d left me wondering about several things. How could a man be so into me, but not want to touch me? I didn’t suppose I’d ever find out. It wasn’t as if we’d exchanged numbers, and even if we had, I wouldn’t have expected him to call.
‘But you did say you were kissing someone, right? I swear I distinctly heard the K word mentioned.’
Hattie’s pretty almond-shaped eyes narrowed to two thin slits. ‘No, all I did was speculate what it might be like to actually date someone I fancied for a change, rather than the losers DatesRUs keep pairing me with.’
‘Oh, Hats.’ I hid my smile. She really didn’t need a match making service, and certainly not one with such a dire name. Hattie was lovely; delicate and refined in the way only the Chinese seemed to manage. All she needed to do was lower her standards from the heights of perfection they were currently set upon, or failing that get a guy home with her long enough to experience her cooking. I’d tasted her dumplings, and sworn undying love to her shortly afterwards.
‘Seriously, Lyssa why does it have to be so hard? You never have any trouble finding yourself a nice guy. I know you have Nathan now, but even before him there was always a steady stream. You never wanted for a date if you fancied a night out.’
‘Hm.’ Only partly true. My list of exes included the jobless, the homeless, an entrepreneur and an investment banker. None of whom had been great choices. I certainly had bad memories about coming second in importance to a sock empire. ‘I’m not exactly choosy.’ I reminded her.
‘So you’re saying I have to lower my standards.’ Hattie pursed her cute little Cupid’s bow lips and thought for a moment, before dismissing the advice. ‘I don’t think I can do it. I mean, he needs to be fit and at least reasonably good looking for starters. And he can’t smell. Plus, he has to be able to hold a conversation about more than Smartphone apps and sport. But I don’t want a geeky professor either.’
She really didn’t ask for much.
‘And good in the bedroom department,’ I suggested.
‘And good in the—’ Hattie’s lips twisted into a puckered moue. ‘I’m not bothered about that. As long as he knows where to put it, we’ll be fine.’
‘Right.’ I nodded tactfully, what was point in discussing this when I knew she already had her heart set on the impossible? Sure enough, Hattie’s gaze strayed to the huge black and white close-up of Leif Haralsson that sat directly opposite the booking desk. There was no denying the theatre’s current male lead oozed style. Every inch of his tall, wiry frame was perfection. He looked fab in clothes. He probably looked even better out of them. Couple that with his soft, candid blue eyes, a bird’s nest of light blond hair, and he was a female fantasy made flesh.
Nor did his sexiness end there. Nope, he had a voice that flowed through one’s veins as if you’d just injected chocolate, a sharp edged jaw with a cute little cleft in his chin, and the sort of sultry pout hitherto only seen on old time screen legends. Did I want to screw him? Absolutely. Did Hattie stand a chance? Probably not, if only because she’d have to wade through a ton of adoring fans with far looser morals to get to him.
‘You know he doesn’t have a girlfriend,’ Hattie confided, her voice becoming soft and just a little breathless. ‘Melanie from wardrobe told me.’
Melanie, the font of all wisdom, had probably forgotten to mention that he was a) gay, b) married or c) both. Still, so as not to dishearten my one true friend, I patted her on the back. ‘Fab. So ask him out.’
‘Really?’ Hattie snapped to attention. ‘I suppose I could, couldn’t I?’ Sometimes she forgot this was the twenty-first century. ‘That’s how you hooked up with Nathan, wasn’t it? You asked him out.’
‘Pretty much.’ I ducked my head. The problem with discussing men was that the conversation inevitably seemed to come round to my love life. If love life had been an accurate descriptive, that wouldn’t have mattered, but what I had was actually a sex life, and a fairly unusual one at that. I was swinging with three guys and a couple, four if you counted the man I’d met at the gallery, and Hattie only knew about Nathan. As for how I’d hooked up with Nathan, the problem there started with the word date. Date hadn’t featured very prominently in our first conversation, and certainly hadn’t preceded ‘fuck’, ‘ride, or ‘cock’, and possibly hadn’t come before ‘you don’t mind if my mate joins in, do you?’ either.
I could be a really bad girl.
I was also a monumental coward. ‘Hey, I’m going to go and straighten up the gift section.’ It had already been done that morning, but anything to avoid the relationship questions. I liked Hattie — a lot. I didn’t want to fall out with her, but I’d learned pretty quickly that people didn’t like my arrangement. While one or two friends had been accepting, more often they turned judgemental, and then cut me dead. The friends I had remaining were mostly the ones I was playing with, and even they were slightly huffy with me at the moment. It wasn’t as if I’d planned what had happened at the gallery, I’d just been swept along by events. Birthday madness, I suppose you could call it...
Let me explain first that pottery doesn’t excite me. The choice of venue for my birthday outing wasn’t of my choosing, but the tickets had been free and so was the booze, so I could hardly complain. Nor did the monochrome palette of this particular pottery collection help to inspire any new found love. So it’s surely not much of a surprise to learn that when Nathan, quirked his eyebrow and in his best James Bond voice asked if I’d prefer to be shaken or stirred, that I accepted his offer to find out.
We were giggling when we crept into the gallery’s green room, having completely ignored the sign that read “VIPs only.” It was already late in the evening at this point, and I’d drunk far too much champagne. I was feeling pleasantly tipsy. My inhibitions had sailed west and, I’ll admit, I was spectacularly failing to keep my hands off Nathan’s glorious butt. You see he’d scrubbed up rather well tonight. Out had gone his normal weathered jeans, replaced by smart black trousers, and a tuxedo and bowtie. I never could resist a smartly dressed man, and booze makes me horny.
I expected the green room to be just as dull and austere as the rest of the gallery, with its whitewashed concrete and steel design, but much to my delight, that wasn’t the case. Instead, we stepped into a world of glittering black tiles, huge gilt framed mirrors and mood lighting. Someone with comfort in mind had designed this room. Several sumptuous red leather sofas completed the effect. But, best of all, the room was deserted.
‘Finally.’ Nathan ushered me inside and closed the door. His arms immediately wrapped around my waist from behind. ‘Which was it you said you preferred — shaken, or stirred?’ He jogged me about a bit, making me squeal, but bring us into closer contact. Breathless with laughter, I snuggled against his warmth. ‘What say I give you a little birthday treat?’
I didn’t have to look at him to know what he had in mind. It was on my mind too.
‘We shouldn’t,’ I gushed, while relishing the prospect of being naughty. ‘Someone might come in.’
‘Really, no? Or do you just mean, tempt me some more?’ He fit himself to the curve of my back and began to roll our hips together in a slow dance. ‘Who’s going to catch us? Folks were already leaving when we sneaked off. There’s probably only Sam and David left in the building by now.’ Sam was the gallery’s assistant manager, David her husband, one of the directors. In fact, Sam had provided the tickets for the exhibition. ‘You know neither of them would object to us having a little fun.’ His whisky-gold eyes glinted with wicked intent as he held my gaze via the mirror.
True enough, they were more likely to join in than protest. Still, this was a public building, even if it was a private lounge within it, and everyone else had gone home.
‘What about if I just creep under here a little?’ Nathan walked his fingers up my thigh, so that his hand found its way under the short hem of my dress. I clamped a hand down to stop his progress, but Nathan was one step ahead. His lips teased the shell of my ear in the exact way that’s guaranteed to undo me. Right on cue, a pleasant shiver rolled through my body, leaving me tingly and alert, and I forgot all about playing hard to get. ‘Let’s live a little, Lys. You only get to be twenty-seven once, remember.’
True enough. I kept promising myself I wasn’t going to grow old and boring. I’d already wasted too many years being young and boring. Ever since I’d split with my ex three days into the New Year, I’d been making up for lost time. A moment later, Nathan’s fingers alighted someplace they oughtn’t to have been, prompting another sharp intake of breath.
‘Here or outside,’ he hissed. ‘There’s no way I can wait until I get you home. Got to have you soon, babe.’ His lips found mine, and I could only agree. Thoughts of cleaners and security staff were pushed to the very back of my brain. No one would walk in, and even if they did, so what. He was sexy and I was more than eager to feel what he’d got.
Nathan didn’t waste any time. He rocked forward a fraction, sliding our bodies into closer contact, while our tongues continued to duel.
‘Mm,’ I wriggled back against his hard-on, while our tongues continued to duel, and gasped to find his fly already loose.
Nathan chuckled against my shoulder. ‘God, you’re sexy when you do that. Do it again?’
I wasn’t sure if he meant the groan or the wiggle, so I did both. ‘Someone’s eager.’
‘Babe, I’m so hard, I’m aching.’ He nudged my knees apart, and slipped himself between my thighs. Hard muscle stroked along the seam of my pussy. Heat immediately filled my cheeks.
Whoa! I hadn’t realised my desire had become quite so acute. I was wet and slick, and more than a little warm. ‘Yes,’ I encouraged, trying to angle my hips in order to capture him more fully. ‘More.’
‘Babe, you’re so soft and warm.’ He trembled a little, while he tried to hold me steady. It didn’t work, I was just too eager, and feeling him there, right between my thighs, mere millimetres from where I wanted to get him, was proving too much. ‘Yeah,’ he sighed, sliding against me. ‘Just, yeah.’
When the door swung open, I had sense enough left to try and push Nathan off. He of course, was having none of it. Thankful, the intruder turned out to be David, with Sam not far behind.
‘I told you we’d find them somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, being inappropriate,’ David remarked.
‘And I agreed, if you recall. Honestly, you two. Can’t you keep your hands of one another for a second?’ Sam cast a stern glance in our direction before giving her husband a hungry kiss.
‘If we did she’d be horribly disappointed,’ Nathan whispered into my ear. He was right. Despite having their hands inside one another’s clothing, they’d stopped kissing in order to watch us. I didn’t understand David and Sam, but that didn’t stop me enjoying their company. Despite being married, or maybe because of it, they seemed to prefer participating in other people’s pleasure rather than seeking their own with one another. Nathan had introduced them to me shortly after we’d first met. They were his favourite neighbours, a few years his senior, but always ready to indulge his particular quirk. They loved watching and Nathan loved being watched.
‘You planned this,’ I realised. A grin stretched wide across my lips, as I turned my gaze between Sam and Nathan. That’s how Nathan had known how to find this place. Sam had given him directions.
She lifted her shoulders in admission. ‘Well, we couldn’t let your birthday pass without a little celebration, and we figured you hadn’t come up here before.’ Her smile told me the double entendre had been deliberate. ‘You don’t mind us being here, do you, Lyssa?’
‘No.’ What else was I supposed to say?
‘Good.’ Sam stepped out of her underwear, before settling on one of the sofas. Nathan, meanwhile, nudged me forwards towards another. Thanks to the mirrors, we could all still see one another from numerous angles. I could see why Sam and David liked this room, and I suspected this wasn’t the first performance they’d watched up here.
On the plus side, their presence had kicked any residual fear of discovery I had left. If we’d been in any danger, Sam wouldn’t have taken her knickers off.
‘Lift her dress, Nathan,’ she instructed. ‘Let us see if you’ve worked any magic yet.’
He flicked my skirt up high, so it was gathered around my waist, giving everyone a good look at my stocking tops and the teeny scrap of fabric that passed for my underwear. The triangle of which was already embarrassingly wet.
‘Looks as if she’s pretty eager.’
‘Fairly.’ Still behind me, Nathan wetted his lips. ‘I think there’s just one little think I need to do’ He bent, but not to dress for action, as I supposed. Instead, his lips pressed to one cheek of my bottom, shocking and electrifying me. Nathan knew how sensitive my bottom was. Kisses there could drive me near insane. He wasn’t content with only bestowing kisses either. His devil’s tongue dabbed wickedly between the cheeks, seeking out the furl of muscle hidden there.
‘Nathan! Oh …’ I was pretty sure women could die from what he could do with his tongue. Considering the speed of my pulse, I was about to become the first casualty.
‘Is he? Oh, my God, he is,’ David blurted, before Sam hushed him. One glance from the corner of my eye confirmed what my ears had already told me. They were enjoying the display on a physical as well as mental level.
‘Nathan, no,’ I crooned. Some things were meant to be done in privacy, and this was surely one of them. It wasn’t that I was inexperienced, or embarrassed, only that I couldn’t control my reaction if he was teasing me like this. I knew I’d end up thrashing about, and screaming God knows what for everyone to hear. They didn’t need to hear me yelling, ‘Harder. Deeper.’
‘Spoilsport.’ Nathan relinquished, and kissed his way up my back, returning his attention to my earlobe again. ‘Suppose I’ll have to content myself with this little peach instead.’ His hand covered my pussy and squeezed. ‘Ready?’ It wasn’t really a question. He was already pushing in.
‘There now. There,’ he muttered, at my gasp.
Boy, did it feel good. Tight and glorious. The slow, easy roll of his hips alongside mine was coupled with the brush of his fingers against my breasts. ‘So, so, good.’ So good, in fact, that it took a minute or two to realise he was holding back. Typically, Nathan went at it hard, exactly the way I liked it too. His current thrusts weren’t nearly deep, or swift enough to truly please.
‘Don’t sulk,’ I hissed.
‘I’m not. I just wanted a piece of your arse.’
‘Later,’ I promised. Once we were home and safely behind locked doors. Apparently, the promise was incentive enough. He immediately picked up the pace.
‘Harder?’ His fingers tightened around my shoulder providing leverage. ‘More like this, huh?’
God, yes! Exactly like that. Adrenaline rushed through me like I’d been dropped from a hundred feet and swung through a few loop the loops. The sofa hammered against the wall as our bodies smacked together, so that in seconds we were both breathless and lathered.
‘Not … sure … how … much … of …this… I… can … take.’ Nathan’s words punched free of his throat in time with his thrusts. It was going to be quick. Very quick. Nathan could go like a jackhammer, but he was a sprinter, not a marathon runner. He often burned himself out before I’d properly warmed through. Luckily, he had no issues about sharing me. He was quite happy for another guy to finish me off, if he was spent. Still, my other lovers weren’t here tonight, and this was fast, even for Nathan.
‘Don’t you dare,’ I warned him when arrhythmia started to creep in to his motion.
‘Dare what?’ His fingers curved possessively against my bottom. ‘I reckon I know who’s going to come first tonight, and it definitely ain’t me.’ He mischievously brushed his thumb along the channel between my cheeks, making the furled muscle he’d previously kissed twitch with excitement. ‘Knock, knock, let me in.’ One digit, then a second slipped past the gate, sending a shockwave of pleasure up my spine. In seconds my legs were jelly. But, in the end, it wasn’t that, but Nathan’s thumb stroking across my painfully hard clit that set me off.
One touch and I was gone; body convulsing, and sucking up Nathan’s orgasm like it was oxygen and I was starved of air.
Shaken and giddy — I hadn’t thought Nathan meant to be so literal — I sagged against the sofa back, content to let the aftershocks ripple through me. Nathan, however, had other plans. He pulled out, only to push into my rear.
‘God, Nathan.’ My sex was still rippling with pleasure. I didn’t have the will to shove him away. But, even though he entered me gradually, it was still torment and bliss rolled into one. The sensations were exquisitely raw. The tightness, the way he rubbed against all of my most tender nerve endings, enough to make my hair curl.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give him a right earful once he was done. ‘God, I love you, you’re such a dirty pair,’ I heard either Sam or David mumble. I tried not to look at them to work out which, knowing if I did my cheeks would heat with shame, and that alone might tip me over. A second climax was already boiling up inside of me.
The shadow seemed like nothing at first — just a flaw in the mirror, or a trick of the lighting.
Even when he stared at me, I didn’t think that he was real, just an illusion — a sultry ghost with thick dark hair and chin carved from granite, dressed in a vintage velvet jacket and cravat, like he’d been plucked right out of 1964. A real person would have made a fuss. Yet, he acted as if it were routine to see a girl taken thus.
Warning bells jangled as he strolled over to the coffee machine.
When actual water spluttered from the nozzle, my heart nearly stopped.
As a group, we made a collective yelp. Nathan froze mid-stroke.
‘Aw, hell!’ Sam jolted out of her chair. ‘Oh, my God, Victor! Mr Alexander. I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were still here.’ Sam hastily rearranged her bunched up skirt. The cerise taffeta refused to fall in to place, leaving all of her coltish legs on display.
‘No, no. Don’t apologise. Carry on.’ The man, whose name had been on every banner in the gallery, gave a dismissive wave before reaching for his brew.
‘No, really …’ Sam continued to apologise. ‘Um … I think we ought to be going. Come along now, everybody out. Let Mr Alexander have his peace.’
‘There’s really no need.’ A twitch of annoyance flashed across his face. It seemed Victor Alexander was more perturbed by Sam’s insistence that we stop, than by the depravity he’d stumbled upon. Having finished making his drink, he turned and rested against the arm of the sofa Sam had jumped up from, and from which David was still extracting himself.
‘What are you doing?’ Sam asked, the quaver in her voice betraying her still underlying panic.
Victor raised his eyebrows. ‘Watching. Drinking my coffee. Given how much you were enjoying yourselves it must be a good show.’
Is it wrong that I loved him from that very moment, from his winklepickers to his mod jacket to his almost, but not quite perfect nose? I slapped a hand across my mouth to hide my smile, while Sam gaped and spluttered. I probably ought to have tried to extract myself from the situation, rather than stand there being amused, with my butt on show, but Nathan held me in a death grip.
‘No – no. You can’t.’ Sam reached out to her celebrity guest, but stopped short of dragging him from his perch. ‘I thought you’d left. I watched you go.’ She finally managed to wrench her dress into the correct position, at which point her cool, business self, reasserted itself. She took a breath, and spoke calmly, ‘I’ll go and order you a taxi now. I apologise things weren’t properly organised earlier.’ She took a step towards the door, then abruptly backtracked and grabbed hold of her husband. David was still fastening his fly as she dragged him into the corridor.
‘We ought to leave too,’ Nathan murmured into my ear. His grip had relaxed a fraction, allowing me the freedom to move. ‘Ease forward slowly. We don’t need to show him anything.’
Curiously, the thought of Victor’s gaze upon my naked bottom sparked excitement rather than horror. I actually didn’t mind that he wanted to watch. Interesting, considering Nathan, the man who usually loved being watched, was itching to get away.
‘Lyssa,’ Nathan prompted.
‘I meant it. Don’t feel you have to spoil your fun because of me.’ Victor remarked. If the fun hadn’t already been over, I might have taken him at his word, but Nathan’s erection had shrunk and was now safely tucked up behind his fly.
‘Another time,’ I said, as if we likely to cross paths again under similar circumstances.
‘Definitely.’ Victor flashed me a sinful smile, showing just a hint of teeth that seemed to convert my throwaway remark into a promise.
‘What the devil did you say that for?’ Nathan barked, once he’d bundled me into the corridor. ‘Lord knows what sort of nutcase you’ve encouraged. Next thing you know he’ll be stalking you.’ I didn’t think Victor was a nutcase, but Nathan barely let me get a word in until we’d reached the foyer, and then only to enquire if I had everything before we got into the waiting taxi. I was willing to bet it was meant for Victor, but Nathan didn’t seem to care.
‘Actually, no.’ I paused at the top of the entrance steps, forcing Nathan to backtrack in order to find out what the problem was. As a consequence of being dragged from the room, I’d managed to leave my handbag behind. ‘Purse,’ I explained.
‘Oh, blinking hell, Lys!’
‘It’s not your problem,’ I snarled back.
‘Get in the cab. I’ll fetch it.’
I nearly did until I realised going home sans keys and cash would be completely pointless. ‘You get in,’ I insisted. ‘My keys are in my purse.’ That and it plain made more sense for me to fetch my bag. I knew where I’d left it for starters, and nor was I quite so desperate to flee into the night. ‘Go home, Nathan. I’ll get Sam to phone me another taxi. We’ll catch up later in the week.’
For a moment I thought he was going to be belligerent about it. Nathan could be remarkably stubborn on occasion. His eyebrows were drawn low and his lips had formed a sour line. ‘Go. Honest, I’ll be fine.’ I was a big girl and I knew how to find my way home. Nor was I half as tipsy as I’d been an hour ago.
‘Oi! You getting in, or what, mate?’ the cabbie hollered.
‘All right,’ Nathan gave in with a sigh. He kissed my cheek. ‘I’ll see you Friday. Stay safe.’ He clearly wasn’t pleased to be leaving me behind, but he got into the cab. I was already back inside the building by the time they pulled off.
Victor occupied almost exactly the same spot I’d stood in moments before when I returned to the green room. He turned slowly when he saw my reflection so that we were facing when I walked towards him. ‘I forgot my purse,’ I explained.
He bent and retrieved the item from the sofa, then held it out to me.
Really, that’s where the conversation ought to have ended. Except, let’s just say that on second inspection, my interest was doubly perked.
Victor Alexander was not a traditionally handsome man, but he was definitely a striking one. It was more than just his clothes. He was slender as a willow, and, angular, almost to the point of being gangly, with thick collar-length black hair. Yet it was his very loose limbed eccentricity that made him interesting. What captured me at that moment though, were his eyes—eyes full of icy flames. Looking at him made me believe in Jack Frost and the Snow Queen, and conjured images of ice palaces and romping before roaring fires wrapped in bearskins.
What’s more, not only did I suddenly want to inhabit those snowy vistas with him; I suspected he felt exactly the same way.
‘Was there something else?’ he asked in response to my lack of movement.
‘No, that’s everything.’ I shook myself out of my stupor and tucked my purse under one arm. ‘Well, goodbye again,’ I remarked, turning away.
‘You know it really wasn’t my intention to spoil your birthday.’
I turned back again, and he nodded towards the ridiculous pink birthday badge Nathan had insisted on pinning to my dress.
‘That’s OK. You haven’t — yet.’
‘Yet?’ He grinned and I couldn’t help but reciprocate. ‘That rather implies that I’m about to.’ He sat down, so I did too.
‘Depends,’ I remarked cryptically. God knows what I was thinking, but considering the way he was making my insides fizz just by looking at me, I’d be a fool not to try to draw this out.
He pressed his index finger across his lips. ‘On what?’
‘Whether you’re going to kiss me?’ Now I was being downright naughty, perhaps even too outrageous for his sensibilities. Really, I knew nothing about him. The thing was I’d seen this film once, where the girl says to the guy, ‘we should have sex’ within minutes of meeting him. And they do. And then they keep meeting and it all turns out wonderfully. Based on first impressions, I think I was hoping for a similar kind of happily ever after with this man. That was assuming I hadn’t already convinced him I was delusional, desperate and / or dangerous. Lord knows it was probably justified. I’d only just met the man, and I’d just sent my date home in a taxi. Not that Nathan and I were a proper item.
‘I’m not sure I can do that, Lyssa.’
I heard the words, but it was his expression I paid attention to. He never once looked away. ‘Even if I say please?’ Daringly, I touched his face.
‘Even if you say pretty please.’ He didn’t attempt to escape my touch, though he did put his hand over mine. I bit my lip. I guess I’d read the whole thing wrong and had somehow misconstrued his politeness for genuine interest, and yet … Dammit, I leaned forward to steal what I wanted. He tasted good. It felt even better.
He looked slightly shocked, but not in an angry way. Taking that as encouragement, I leaned forward to do it again. Victor covered his mouth with his fingers. Instead of kissing, we stared at one another from a distance of mere inches.
‘Nathan and I, we’re not committed,’ I explained, thinking that might be the reason for his reluctance. He had just witnessed me being taken by the guy. ‘What I mean is that we’re lovers, but we’re not in love. We’re not exclusive. We see other people.’ I’m not sure my explanation was really helping.
‘I still can’t.’
‘Girlfriend?’ I wondered aloud.
‘Married?’ Not that he was wearing a ring, but not all guys do.
He shook his head.
Well, I guess I’d made a big enough fool of myself. I made to rise, only for him to catch hold of my hand. My insides were flip-flopping between precaution and desire, as he drew me back down onto the sofa, but I knew what was going to happen. I was going to have sex with this man. Sizzling hot, uncomplicated, birthday sex and, it was going to be terrific.
‘I’m curious, do you make a habit of flaunting yourself and then propositioning the onlookers?’
‘Do you make a habit of spying on people?
Goddammit, what were we doing. He was still holding my hand, and smoothing circles over my knuckles with his thumb. How could I feel so turned on by something so simple?
‘Nathan stole your cab, by the way.’
‘Did he?’ He didn’t seem overly concerned by the fact. ‘I guess that means I’m stuck here a little longer.’
Considering he’d just refused to kiss me, he made that remark sound awfully like a proposition.
‘And?’ I prompted. Something had to happen. I couldn’t sit here feeling this tense without completely losing my mind.
‘And — ’ His smile grew impossibly broad. ‘ — and I’m sorry I missed the opportunity to see you — ’
‘ — to see me?’
‘Come,’ he said.
Heat rushed through me like I’d been hit by a geyser. I was stunned by his words and simultaneously aflame. My body gave one pulse after another, while between my thighs I was suddenly sodden. I’d never had such a strong reaction to a single word before. I didn’t actually, come, but I came insanely close.
‘Maybe you could touch yourself?’
OK, I thought I’d been forward for stealing kisses, but he was demanding far more.
‘Where exactly?’ As if the direction of his gaze didn’t make it obvious. ‘You can’t expect me to do that here?’
‘Why’s it any different to what you were doing earlier?’ When he put it like that, he sort of had a point. I’d still be getting off in public with an audience. It’s just that doing myself seemed far naughtier than doing it with another person, and I at least knew Sam and David, whereas I knew nothing about him. Of course, that hadn’t stopped me trying to jump his bones a minute ago. Nor was I particularly shy about this sort of thing. I wasn’t the kind of girl who never touched herself. I often used my fingers to help things along. Plus, there was every possibility that if I did this, he’d be all over me as hard as I could possibly wish.
I sat back, and knees bent, opened my legs a fraction, just enough so that he could see up my skirt. Tentatively, I put one hand on my thighs, and raised it along with the hem of my dress.
Victor’s gaze became fully focussed on the ascent of my fingertips. He crept forward, first perching on the sofa edge, then kneeling on the floor to watch as I brushed through the tufts of dark curling hair framing my sex. Considering how aroused I already was, I kept the touches light, and well away from anything sensitive.
‘I bet you’re really good with your hands, being a sculptor.’
The prompt failed to draw him. If he’d just move one of his hands slightly so that it lay upon my thigh.
‘Potter,’ he corrected. ‘Sculptors carve. They chip away at things. I mould things to my will.’
I could believe that, although, presently I was more interested in getting my hands on his body and exploring all his curious male angles and ridges, than letting him top me. Instinct told me he possessed the sort of wash board abs you could climb down, and I had high hopes for other bits too given the bulge he was sporting.
‘Why don’t you touch properly?’ he asked, reasonably.
‘Because I’m wound too tight.’ I’d come too fast and too hard, when I wanted to draw this out. ‘Surely you know how that feels.’ An erection as fierce as the one he had caged had to hurt. ‘Maybe you should… as well.’
Our gazes met. Raw lust crackled between us. I read his need. How he longed to bury himself deep, pound into me until there were no boundaries left between us, and we burned with pure lust. I saw too that he wouldn’t do it. Victor Alexander had no intention of doing me, even if that meant he had to ride home with a hard on you could bang nails with. He wouldn’t give in. Not tonight, and as far as I could read, not any time soon either.
For some mad reason, he’d decided not to touch me or himself.
‘Do you usually just get off by watching?’
‘Not as a rule.
‘Touch yourself there,’ he demanded.
My fingers were trembling, my agility shot to pieces. It was like a battle of wills. Both of us staring. I’m not sure who gasped the loudest when I finally did as he asked. My little bud stood so far to attention that one press there was like hitting the ignition on an explosive device. And once done, there was no going back. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t unwind the act.
Victor remained unearthly still. He didn’t rub himself. He didn’t even twist to generate friction. He just let his yearning fill up his expression, until it became too raw to look at, too mesmerising and terrifying. I didn’t understand it, but I felt its lure.
My eyelids fluttered closed. The darkness only increased my awareness of him; his thick earthy scent, the whisper of his breath against my hot skin. He moved. Blew. My body convulsed. He blew again and orgasm gripped me tight. Without touching me, Victor tipped me over. I came so hard the muscles in my thighs were still twitching minutes afterwards.
I opened my eyes to find him still there, still watching me with those silver-grey eyes, while his breath continued to whisper across my sex, now soothing instead of teasing. ‘Beautiful,’ he muttered.
He offered me a hand up, which I accepted, thinking that now surely, I’d be rewarded with a kiss.
‘Why?’ I had to ask.
He had to know he could do whatever he wanted to me at the moment. Instead, he stood away from me, tense and horny, when really there was no need. I could make him feel good.
‘I’ve probably kept you too long.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets, which had the effect of raising his shoulders.
‘That’s fine. You know I don’t normally — ’
‘You don’t have to explain.’
But I did. I didn’t want him to think I routinely picked up guys in this way. Yes, I enjoyed a somewhat unconventional sex life, but I only really played with guys I knew. I’m not saying I hadn’t enjoyed the odd one night stand in the past, but it wasn’t my normal mode of operation.
‘We’d better go down now, in case there’s another taxi waiting.’
A curious combination of embarrassment and relief flickered across Sam’s face when she saw us together. I was betting she’d anticipated me having left along with Nathan. ‘I was just coming to find you,’ she said to Victor. ‘The taxi just pulled up.’ We headed straight outside.
‘Are you OK sharing?’ I asked.
‘It’s yours. My lift’s finally arrived.’ He glanced across the car park to a point some distance away. ‘It was nice meeting you.’
He lingered rather than hurrying away. ‘Why aren’t you an item?’ he asked, referring back to my remarks about Nathan.
‘I’m not sure I could ever be content with only one man.’ I was being flippant. The hour was late and I still didn’t know how to interpret him. The truth was that I was still carrying around too much baggage from my last relationship to consider confining myself to another man anytime soon. Craig and I had split after he accused me of infidelity. All I’d actually done was ogle a few guys. Not touched them or kissed them, just turned my head to look when they walked by. In Craig’s eyes that was enough.
At least my present arrangement allowed me to do whatever I wanted with whoever I chose. It kept things simple.
‘What about you?’ I asked, as he held open the taxi door so I could climb inside.
An enigmatic grin spread across his face. ‘One man is plenty.’
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