Mine Until Morning (34 page)

The reality was that he didn’t know if he could sit back and watch her suck and fuck another man. He wasn’t sure he could hack it even if he were part of the sucking and fucking himself. He’d never thought of himself as a possessive, jealous man, yet even as his dick hardened contemplating it, a hole tore open in his chest.

He never asked if she went on her so-called dates when he was back home or traveling. He didn’t want to know.

“Would you like to try a little more of that kind of thing?” she asked finally. There it was. He’d made his bed. He’d been the one to say they needed to 218

No Second Chances

share and explore each other’s lives to see if they could make it work. Except that he wouldn’t take her home to see his family—she sure as hell didn’t want to go, either—and he hated the idea of letting another man touch her. So really, what the fuck were they sharing?

His head ached. Champagne did that to him sometimes. The car jerked and started in the traffic.

Yet he couldn’t say no. He couldn’t admit he was so far gone that the thought made him equal parts angry and turned on. After all, he’d asked for it. She’d told him who and what she was, what she wanted, and instead of climbing on a plane and getting the hell out when she’d given him the chance, he’d come slinking back like a tomcat, with what he’d told himself was a compromise. He closed his eyes against the blinding sun on the water and tried to think of yesterday, the therapist’s hands on her, stroking her. Royce had been achingly hard. Instead of being repelled, he’d wanted to fuck Isabel. He willed himself back to that moment. Sheila’s fingers caressing his balls. The creamy skin of Isabel’s breast. The towel slipping lower on the curve of her butt. Her scent. His mouth watered for a taste of her pussy.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I want more.” Mind over matter. She wanted him. She was with him. He was the only one she allowed in her bed and to whom she gave a key.

He could do this for her.

He only hoped he could handle the reality as much as he’d enjoyed yesterday’s fantasy.

ISABEL DIDN’T WASTE A MOMENT SETTING HER PLANS FOR ROYCE IN

motion. He would go mad for the things she could do for him. She knew the perfect couple.

“It’s high tea,” she told Noelle St. James. “You can’t have coffee.”

Noelle wrinkled her nose. “For a price, one can have anything one wants.”

True enough. Being one of Isabel’s premiere courtesans, Noelle knew the axiom well. While Isabel had chosen a breakfast tea—who cared if it was afternoon?—the waiter had agreed to bring Noelle strong, black coffee. The Rotunda, with its magnificent glass dome, topped Neiman Marcus overlooking Union Square. Posh with white tablecloths and silver tea service, the Rotunda prided itself on catering to its patrons’ needs. Just as Courtesans did. 219

No Second Chances

Noelle leaned forward, her dark eyes sparkling. At forty, she was an exotic creature with silky black hair cascading down her back and almond-shaped eyes that gave her a sultry, seductive gaze. She was slender and fine-boned despite her height of five-nine, and not for anybody did she give up her spiked heels. They weren’t just madam and courtesan. Noelle was one of her closest friends. She’d met Royce several times at various events Isabel had taken him to, and Noelle was the woman best qualified to help Isabel provide what Royce needed.

“So, you need a little pistachio crème.” Noelle arched one perfect black brow. Months ago, they’d had this conversation in reverse. Noelle had been looking for that something extra. Isabel had found it for her in the form of Dax Deacon. The two were now a couple even though Noelle still played courtesan to a select group of clients. Dax liked to watch. They had a perfect meeting of the minds. Isabel wanted to show Royce the kinky lifestyle could work for them, too. Or maybe she was trying to justify getting her own way, having her cake and eating it, too, et cetera, et cetera. Whatever.

“I need Royce to see that there are so many more delicious choices beyond vanilla.”

Noelle spread her hands, her fingernails crimson. “Of course there are. What do you have in mind?”

The Rotunda was packed with ladies dressed to the nines sipping on Mumm champagne, tea, and savoring cakes and scones. The early-afternoon sun streamed down through the dome, gleaming in the patrons’ hair, glittering in the glassware. Amid the buzz of chitchat, Isabel crossed her legs, put an elbow on the table, and leaned in. “You and I.”

“You mean he wants a girlie show?” Noelle whispered. Isabel laughed. “No, silly.” She’d tried it, of course, for a hefty price. There wasn’t much she hadn’t done, but that particular thing wasn’t to her taste. “I mean you and I pleasure Royce while Dax watches.”

Their waiter chose to arrive at that moment, clearing his throat. Noelle smiled, sharing a look with Isabel. It was sometimes exciting to give a nice, discreet shock to a man. This one, tall, dark-haired, midthirties, ears a deep shade of red, had definitely gotten his shock. Yet he said not one untoward word. “Ladies,” he murmured, clearing a space for Isabel’s teapot, their two glasses of champagne, and Noelle’s coffee. “Your treats will be out in a 220

No Second Chances

moment.”

They smiled their thanks in unison. Isabel made it a point to always give her servers respect. After all, she was in a service business herself.

“Cheers.” Noelle clinked flutes with her. “Do you want Dax to do you, too?”

“I know you don’t like to share, sweetie.”

Shrugging, Noelle flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I trust you; it’s fine.”

Noelle fully admitted she was jealous. She liked to be shared, but she wasn’t so fond of doing the sharing herself. Which worked well for Dax, since his favorite sexual act was watching her. Not that he didn’t get his own when they were once again alone. Their relationship was definitely on the outer edges, but Isabel had never seen Noelle so happy. After three failed marriages, she’d despaired of having a lasting, meaningful relationship. She’d become a courtesan instead. Until Isabel set her up with Dax, a match made in heaven if ever there was one.

“Thanks,” Isabel said, touched that Noelle would make the gesture. “But let’s not push Royce too far the first time.”

Noelle put her elbow on the table, chin in hand, and stared off dreamily. “I have the most amazing fantasy.”

“What?” Isabel encouraged her.

“I’ll tie Dax to a chair and make believe he’s forced to watch me do nasty things.”

“Ooh,” Isabel cooed. “So now you two are into a little dominance and submission.”

“Not really.” Noelle laughed, a tinkling sound that turned heads. “Can you imagine me dominating Dax?”

He was five years older, a sexy, hunky six foot four. No, she didn’t see anyone dominating Dax. Unless he wanted it for a very special reason of his own. Or to please Noelle. The man would do anything for her. Their high tea arrived on a triple-tiered platter. Finger sandwiches, cookies, tarts, petit fours, scones with clotted cream, lemon curd and preserves.

“Anything else I can get you, ladies?” The waiter’s gaze passed between them, lasting a few seconds too long.

“A tad more coffee,” Noelle said. “So when?” she asked after his departure. She slathered cream on the scone and took a bite. “Oh God, to die for.”

They watched their weight. Good health was everything. But one thing you 221

No Second Chances

learned as a courtesan was how to pamper yourself occasionally. Every woman deserved a treat, whether it was food, a massage, or a very special sexual fantasy fulfilled.

“Royce is in town for the rest of the week.” Isabel laid a hand over Noelle’s.

“Thank you for doing this for me.”

“Of course. We’re friends. I love you, and I’d do anything for you.” Then she winked. “Besides, Royce is”—she dropped her voice a couple of notches—

“fucking hot.”

Isabel laughed. “Yes, he is.” Unlike Noelle, she wasn’t jealous in the least, and she was dying to give Royce an evening he’d never forget. An evening that would have him coming back for more again and again. Noelle picked out a finger sandwich. “Now, tell me everything you want to do.”

Isabel revealed a fantasy so deliciously sexy it rivaled any treat on the table.

“NOELLE ST. JAMES?” ROYCE ECHOED. NOELLE. SHE BELONGED TO Dax Deacon. He’d met them. Several times. He knew their story. Noelle was a courtesan. Dax got off on watching her. And yeah, the woman was exceptionally attractive.

He was buried to the hilt inside Isabel, his balls aching, his thighs quaking as he held her against the wall. He’d hiked her floor-length satin evening dress to her hips and squeezed her delectable ass with shaking fingers. Holy hell, he was about to explode, she made him so fucking crazy with her slutty dirty talk. Especially when they were inside a dark, empty ballroom with the thousand-dollars-a-plate benefit going on right next door.

“Yeah,” she murmured before nipping his earlobe. “You need two mouths on you, Royce. You need to feel how good two tongues can be.” She whispered mind-blowing images in his ear as he thrust inside her. “One of us licking your balls, the other sucking you.”

While every man had dreamed of it, only Isabel would think of providing it.

“Tell me you want it,” she urged.

“Christ.” He plunged deep, pulled out, rammed into her again, grunting.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t resist her. She was like no other, offering a man unbelievable fantasies. Yet he held back the one word she needed.

“I want you to have it,” she panted as he fucked her hard, harder, his body 222

No Second Chances

punching her up against the wall.

All night, she’d touched and teased, whispered and seduced, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d had to have her. She’d known right where to take him. Isabel always knew.

“I need to give this to you.” She shoved her fingers through her hair, pushed his head back, and kissed him hard.

He felt himself drowning in her, his orgasm building up from his balls, his cock ruling his brain, giving in, releasing in a great snap that slammed them both into the wall.

Every man would want this. Any man could need this. The scent of her intoxicated him; the feel of her claimed him. She was perfection, offering him the world. She made him want things he’d never thought he needed. All he had to do was say yes to her.

“Fuck, yes, please.” He couldn’t have stopped himself if his very life depended on it. Yet he prayed she wouldn’t ask him to let her do Dax Deacon after she’d given him to Noelle.

223

No Second Chances

8

ROCKEFELLER, then moved to the elegantly set dining table for Caesar salad, French onion soup, and a main course of Abalone Almondine. For dessert, the women would feast on Royce.

Despite the innocuous chitchat and laughter, Royce understood that very well. His heart rate was up with anticipation and trepidation. It was a deadly combination, the push-me-pull-me of fear and desire, the one forcing the other higher.

He laid his napkin by his plate. “That was perfection. You’re a marvelous cook.”

Noelle laughed, a smoky, sultry sound like a Diana Krall melody. “You’re so sweet, but Dax”—she petted the man’s hand—“he hires the most marvelous caterer when we entertain.”

Of course. “Then my compliments to the chef, whoever he or she may be.”

He lifted his glass of Far Niente chardonnay, a lush wine with an extraordinary spicy oak aroma. Expensive, of course.

Royce had been raised in a well-to-do family, but nothing like this. They’d entered Dax’s estate through an electric gate along a drive bordered with bushes that would be magnificent with blooms in the spring. A vaguely Frank Lloyd Wright style with floor-to-ceiling windows in living and dining room, the house overlooked the churning ocean just outside the Golden Gate. A dark and stormy night—like the proverbial Gothic novel—the waves crashed at the base of the cliff. On a summer day, you’d see the sailboats covering every square inch of white-crested ocean. Although, come to think of it, he wasn’t sure many ventured beyond the bridge, preferring to sail the bay waters instead. Now, a midwinter night, there was only darkness, the storm obscuring the lights, if any, along the opposite shore. He could see nothing, and no one was out there to see them.