Ecstasy Times Two Plus Three [The Dakota Dynasty 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (2 page)

But the errant, libidinous thought had entered his consciousness, and his cock, straining mightily against hand-tailored trousers, reacted by getting even harder. And since his cock was significant in both length and girth, and his slacks were not tailored to accommodate a formidable erection, his discomfort was considerable.

As head of Operations for this Mumbai project, it would be his responsibility to get the product from the North Dakota oil fields to India, and do it profitably and safely. The distance between North Dakota and India would present challenges, but he welcomed them. With Lydia’s undeniable allure, and his cock ever-ready where she was concerned, he needed complex problems to take up his thoughts.

I’ve got to put some distance between myself and her or I’m going to go right out of my mind. Don’t think about her. Don’t think about her at all.

It was a losing effort. Caleb could no more banish Lydia from his consciousness than he could make himself appear to be anything other than what he was, a big American cowboy with a flair for getting things done.

* * * *

As they left the boardroom, Lydia could feel the sexual tension in the air, surrounding her and her colleagues in an aura of forbidden sensuality. The last thing in the world she needed was emotional turmoil, and if she was certain of anything, it was that getting involved with someone in the company was a bad, bad idea. Even if it was just sex with no strings attached, Lydia was certain that an intra-office affair would mess things up terribly.

“So then it’s back to the hotel?” Nick asked as the trio stepped out of the office building. “How about we all have a drink?”

Lydia felt a shiver go through her. Not only had she made it a point to never have an affair with a coworker, she didn’t even socialize with them sufficiently to have a casual cocktail after hours.

“I don’t know…” Lydia said, turning her attention away from the big men bracketing her on the sidewalk. She looked around for a taxicab. “I’m not really in the mood for a drink.”

“Let me buy you one,” Nick said. “It’s your birthday, after all. And besides, we just landed a magnificent contract, so a little celebration seems in order.”

Caleb chuckled and added, “Damn sure does seem in order. That project is going to be a real money-maker for us.”

Lydia closed her eyes for a moment. “I really wish you hadn’t reminded me about my birthday,” she said in a low voice. A taxicab raced by on the street, not slowing despite the fact that Lydia had raised a hand to hail it. “I hate this country. Women get zero respect here.”

Caleb raised his hand, and almost immediately a taxicab came nearly screeching to a stop to pick them up.

“This is the most sexist country on the planet,” Lydia said to the men in a low voice. “Seriously. It’s got to be.”

Nick opened the door and let Lydia move into the backseat. Wearing a knee-length skirt suit, she was careful to keep a hold on the bottom hem of the skirt, not wanting to flash more thigh than necessary. To move to the center of the backseat, she had to raise her bottom off the seat cushion. When she moved, she became very conscious of the movement of her breasts inside her bra. Her nipples tightened a little more, tingling a bit, and Lydia was thankful she wore a suit coat so their aroused condition wasn’t so visible.

A moment later, Lydia was pinned between Caleb and Nick in the backseat of a sedan made in Japan. She was aware of the strength and suppressed power of their bodies pressed against her own, of their long legs and wide shoulders, and of the virility that seemed to exude from them constantly.

“The Hotel Constantine,” Nick said.

It’s stupid of me to be this aroused. It’s stupid of me to be afraid to go to the bar and have a drink with Caleb and Nick. And it’s stupid of me to hate the frickin’ fact that it’s my birthday, and now I’m just one more unmarried thirty-five-year-old female executive.

Lydia didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she folded them in her lap. She had to be careful because she had one thigh pressed against Caleb, and one against Nick’s muscular leg. When there was some distance between herself and the men, she wasn’t so jittery, and she didn’t constantly feel like they were subtly flirting with her. But with them on either side of her, their biceps solid and warm and putting a sensual heat straight into her bloodstream, Lydia couldn’t forget the fact that it had been three months since she’d had sex—and it had been pretty lame sex, at that. It was a one-time occurrence with the man, and she stopped answering his phone calls soon afterward.

The taxi pulled over to the curb in front of the Hotel Constantine, a marble, steel, and glass skyscraper that dominated the block. Nick got out first, unfolding his long, lanky figure from the backseat. He turned then, extending a helping hand down to Lydia. As she slid across the seat, she felt her skirt rise on her thighs, and though her first instinct was to pull it back down to the tops of her knees, an impish, flirtatious inner voice insisted she continue on. Taking his hand, she slid out of the taxi, but not before she showed Nick the elasticized lacy band at the top of her stocking, the clasp of her garter belt, and a thin strip of white skin above the dark silk.

Now why in hell did I do that? Both of these men are off-limits.

“Thank you,” Lydia said as she extracted her hand from Nick’s.

She tried to pretend that his touch hadn’t affected her, hadn’t made her feel distinctly feminine, but she could suddenly feel the pulse in her clit, and her nipples, always a barometer of her passions, beaded tightly. She was certain that without her suit coat, the fact that her nipples were erect would be visible through her bra and blouse.

The doorman opened the door, and the men stepped aside so that Lydia could enter first. Fleetingly, across the surface of her mind, she wondered if either of them—or perhaps even both of them—were looking at her backside as she walked.

What difference does it make if they’re looking at my ass? It’s not like I’m going to give it to either one of them.

“You know,” Lydia said as the men got in stride on either side of her, “I think a drink at the hotel bar sounds wonderful. Can I change my mind on that one?”

Nick smiled down at her, and Lydia felt nectar moisten the lips of her pussy.

“Nothing wrong with changing your mind, so long as you change it in the right direction.”

My God he’s got a devilish smile.

The hotel’s tavern had an L-shaped bar, a dozen small tables, and a single flat-screen TV behind the two bartenders. There were several businessmen nursing drinks at the bar, and perhaps twenty more sitting at the round tables.

“Pick your spot,” Caleb said to Lydia.

“Everyone’s looking at you,” Lydia replied, smiling. “Cowboy boots, a bolo necktie, and a big Stetson hat are a little out of place in Mumbai.”

“Am I embarrassing you?” he asked.

“Not in the least.” Lydia surveyed her seating options. She was the only woman in the tavern, and more than a few of the businessmen gave her the once-over with their eyes. “To have at least a little privacy, what about over there.” She pointed to the short section of the brightly polished L-shaped bar. “At least then I’ve got my back to the wall and I won’t be completely visually undressed by these men.”

Both men chuckled at that, and Lydia felt a distinct, warning tickle in the pit of her stomach. She loved hearing a masculine, deep laugh, and the last thing she needed while having a cocktail in Mumbai was loving
anything
about her coworkers.

There were just three stools at that end of the bar, and Lydia took the middle one, with Nick to her right and Caleb to her left. The bartender, a local with exquisite English skills, took their orders. Caleb ordered a beer. Nick thought a Jack Daniels on the rocks sounded appropriate. After giving it some thought, Lydia ordered a gin martini.

Lydia took a sip of her cocktail, enjoyed the pine-needle taste, sighed, and said, “This was
such
a good idea.” She took another sip, then clinked her glass first to Nick’s cocktail, then to Caleb’s pilsner glass. “To success.”

“To your birthday,” Nick replied.

Lydia’s gaze lifted to his, and once again she felt a tingling sensation in her clit.

“Let’s not talk about my birthday, shall we? I’m thirty-five years old today, and the statistics say that if you’re my age and aren’t married, your chances of finding a guy and settling down are about the same as getting hit by a meteor.” She took another sip, liking the warmth the gin put in her stomach. “I’m getting old, so I’d rather not talk about it.”

“You’re not getting old, and you’re one of the most stunningly beautiful women I’ve ever met.” Nick’s gaze was sharply focused as he spoke. “You remind me of that actress…I can’t think of her name now.”

“Salma Hayek,” Caleb said. Lydia turned her head to look at him. Tall and blond with wide shoulders, he had much different features from Nick, but was no less handsome. “Yes. You always remind me of Salma Hayek.”

“I think you’re both terrible liars,” Lydia said through a smile, “but I thank you for those naughty little lies just the same.”

“I haven’t even begun to get naughty.” Nick’s tone was low, a sensual caress across the surface of Lydia’s long-neglected libido.

“Oh?” Lydia lifted a slender, arched brow. “Perhaps we should order another round. Let’s let Jack Daniels talk you out of being naughty.”

“When you were little, did you get birthday spankings?” Nick asked. Lydia’s pussy clenched at the thought. She wanted to lie, but she nodded the truth. “When I was very little. It was all just humorous stuff with the family.”

“It’s your birthday.” He turned his padded stool slightly, so that his knee touched Lydia’s. “Perhaps a spanking is just the birthday present you need.”

Lydia felt an instantaneous warmth from embarrassment rising from her pussy to turn her cheeks and ears red. In a whisper, she replied, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Nick smiled, his gaze locked with hers as he said, “Obviously, you don’t know me very well.”

Nick saw it in her eyes, and he knew she wanted to keep it hidden. He always believed that the eyes tell the truth of the soul, and with Lydia, it was no different.

When he’d commented on her getting birthday spankings as a child, the flare of forbidden excitement shone in the chocolaty depths of her eyes. She tamped down the taboo thrill, but not before an embarrassed blush crept up to color her cheeks and ears.

She’s D/s, whether she knows it or not.
Nick thought about that for a moment.
I’ll bet she doesn’t even realize she’s a submissive.

“You’re an interesting woman,” Nick said quietly, his gaze lightly searching Lydia’s face. “If you weren’t an Amberson, I think I’d try to kiss you.”

“But I am an Amberson, and you’re too astute a businessman to think you can have an office affair and not get burned. We’re both much too mature and level headed to be that foolish.”

“It might be worth it, losing my job and all, just to put you over my knee.” He saw lust glitter in her eyes before she once again suppressed the illicit approval. “I’ll bet if you close your eyes, you can see it as clearly as if you were watching a movie. Can you see me putting you over my knee? You’d be struggling, of course, but your resistance is just a show. The hidden truth is that you’d love it if I gave your ass a good spanking.”

Lydia caught her lower lip between even, white teeth and bit down gently. She was breathing slightly faster and deeper now. When she took a sip of her martini, her hand was trembling slightly.

“Please, another round here,” Caleb said to the bartender.

Nick looked at him, wondering how much of the D/s lifestyle the big cowboy understood. Earlier in Nick’s career, when he was in Dallas before New Oslo International seduced him into moving to North Dakota, he had belonged to a D/s nightclub. He’d found the lifestyle interesting, but one that he could indulge in, or walk away from, without regret.

“You’re a presumptuous man,” Lydia said after the second round of drinks came.

A pair of businessmen started to take stools nearby, clearly wanting to get a better look at the lone female in the tavern. A glare from Caleb, who would have sat nearest to them, sent the men wandering to the opposite side of the tavern.

“Nicely done,” Nick said to Caleb. “This doesn’t seem like the right time to allow eavesdropping.” He took a sip of his cocktail, remembering the beautifully tapering thigh encased in a black silk stocking that Lydia had shown him when she got out of the taxicab. At the time he was certain it had been an accident. Now he wasn’t so sure. “Admit it, Lydia, you’re stronger than the men in your life, or at least the men in your sex life. You don’t necessarily like it that way, but that’s the truth of it, isn’t it?”

Her lashes lowered for a moment before she looked him directly in the eyes. “Yes, that’s true. My history with men is that I either chew them up and spit them out in a couple months, or they’re after my money and think that fucking me is just a nice side benefit.”

He watched her take a large and decidedly unladylike swallow from her martini.

“Whether you know it or not, what you really need is an adventure.” Nick felt his cock stirring in his trousers. He glanced around the tavern. None of the other patrons could see him or Caleb and Lydia from the chest down because of the mahogany bar. “You always wear pretty lingerie under those oh-so-professional business suits, don’t you? Beautiful lingerie that men never see?”

Again, her eyes closed briefly. He knew with rock-solid confidence that he was on the right track with Lydia.

“You give orders all the time in the boardroom, but I’m willing to bet that in the bedroom you’d like to let a strong man be the one to take charge.”

She inhaled deeply, shakily.

Caleb said, “I think it’s time for me to bid you both good night.”

“No,” Nick said a bit more sharply than he had intended. “Don’t leave, Caleb. It’s not necessary. Not only that, if you left, you’d disappoint Lydia more than she can possibly imagine.”