Model Fantasy (11 page)

“Different course of study. Although I am learning about finances and real estate as I invest,” she pointed out. “Oh, and I love to read
Little
Bear
,
Harold
and
the
Purple
Crayon
, and the
Very
Hungry
Caterpillar
. Along with all the Dr. Seuss books.”

“
Harold
and
the
Caterpillar
?” he frowned. “You lost me.”

“I read to Alec. He’s my financial advisor’s son. He’s three and a half and just the smartest little boy.” She beamed. “Before I left for Fiji, he read to me.
Green
Eggs
and
Ham
. Didn’t miss a word either.” She scooped up the last piece of pineapple. “Lily and Rose were so proud of him.”

“Who?”

“Lily Lexington, she’s my advisor. And Rose Custis.” Swallowing the fruit, she dabbed at the juice that dribbled down her chin. “Rose…”

“I know who Rose is,” he said quietly. Brody’s pain at Rose’s betrayal appeared before him. His friend had gotten so trashed that day that Ben had called on Boone to help get him home. “And Lily. Lily said Alec was Brody’s son. Rose took Lily’s side over her own brother’s.”

“Maybe there’s more to the story than you think,” Francine replied, surprised at the anger in his voice. “Alec looks like he could be Rose’s son. Given that…”

“Any child can have blond hair and blue eyes,” he cut in coldly. “Brody’s quite sure that Lily’s child is another man’s. He wouldn’t say that without absolute certainty.”

Francine felt as if ice water had been poured over her. He wasn’t even going to listen to her. Brody was his friend and that was all there was to it. Lily’s words about the father of her child didn’t matter. And in their situation? She stiffened at the next logical thought and set the bowl firmly on the tray.

“Are you implying that I would try to get pregnant and say it was yours?” She scrambled off the bed before he could move. “What a low opinion you have for women, or is it just me because I’m a model and nothing more than a sex object to you?”

Whirling around, she headed for the door. He was on her in an instant.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded, hands grabbing her upper arms. “What is your problem?”

“Lily’s never asked Brody for a thing,” Francine whispered, shaking her head. Tears came to her eyes at what her friend had been going through. “Never. He hurt her, but instead of lashing out at him, she took care of Rose and Ellie. She did everything she could to keep things quiet.”

“Rose sided against her brother,” he said stubbornly. “Who the hell is Ellie?”

“Because he’s wrong! He won’t…”

“Enough,” he said sharply.

“Lily and Rose are my friends,” she replied with quiet dignity. “And Ellie is a cousin who was affected by what Brody did.”

“Francine, Brody is a good friend of mine. I’ve seen what he went through.” He put two fingers over her lips. “There is probably more to the story than either of us know. Certainly, it’s something they have to work out. Not us,” he emphasized.

She just looked at him warily.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you would do that. Try to trap me or anything else.”

Almost immediately, he felt her resistance lessen beneath his hands. Slowly, half-afraid she would bolt for the door again, he stroked her arms and drew her against him.

Breathing in the sweet smell of her, he felt peace seep into him. Peace? When the hell had he last felt peace? He couldn’t remember, much less figure out why he suddenly felt that way with her. It was a dangerous emotion and he didn’t deal well with emotions. Time to get the damn conversation back to a safer topic. Although, all things considered, how on earth was he supposed have known she’d get so emotional?

“Let’s continue our talk a bit more comfortably,” he suggested.

Picking her up, he carried her to the bed. Taking the tray to the counter, he stretched out beside her and held her. He could feel her body stiffen as he stroked her. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. Women! So damned emotional! And so damn likely to turn cold after an argument in which they’d lost.

“What…” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “What do you like to read? Do you like movies?”

“I will admit to not having picked up a classical work since English lit my freshman year of college,” he drawled, impressed by her determination to move on. “Dickens bores the hell out of me and I had severe problems with the so-called ‘modern’ classics. Most of my library consists of mystery and action thrillers. And every Clancy novel I can get my hands on.”

He felt her relaxing.

“Movies? The rare classic can be bearable. Bogart, of course. I can watch anything he’s in. He’s in a category all by himself. Recent movies?” He smiled. “About the same as my books. I know it’s the elite thing to say you saw this or that independent movie that won some film festival award, but they are so full of themselves that…”

“You fall asleep five minutes in?” She grinned.

“If I make it that far.” He nodded. “I guess I’m the stereotypical male in that I like action flicks. The more car crashes and explosions per minute, or hot women, the better.” He caressed her back and cupped her ass cheek. “How about you?”

“Stereotypical female...I love the period pieces with valiant women trying to civilize the men around them.” She smiled. “Although, I do have a weakness for James Bond.”

“Oh, dear God, help me.” He grimaced. “Let me guess. You swooned over the new one coming out of the ocean in his bathing suit.”

“Duh.” She laughed. “I don’t know of any woman who didn’t.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. “You would give him a run for his money,” she murmured. “You want to reenact that scene for me? I can promise a much different ending.”

“I don’t remember how that one ended,” he confessed.

“Mm? Really?” she whispered, stretching out on top of him. She reached out and plucked a condom from the pile on the nightstand. “Well, we can always pretend you’ve already emerged and I’ve pulled the bathing suit off of you…”

“And we managed to not get arrested for indecent exposure and get inside…”

Her mouth covered his and he promptly forgot what they’d been discussing.

He had a hot woman on top of him and she wanted him. Did life get any better than this? Francine sat up, straddling him. Heat in her eyes, she rolled the condom over his cock. Her hands at his base, she positioned her pussy over him. Slowly, she lowered herself over his pulsing erection. Watching the erotic expression on her face, he amended his previous thought. This was the best thing in life. Raising his hands, he fondled her breasts. She arched forward, moaning.

“More,” she breathed.

“Ride me, sweetheart. Ride me hard. I want to watch your face as you come.”

****

Francine woke in what was quickly becoming their customary position—she was tucked against him, his right bicep beneath her head and his left arm around her waist holding her to him. His left leg was usually over at least her right leg, if not both. As if he was afraid she’d slip out of bed and out of the room. As if! She snuggled back against his chest. And felt the butt plug when she shifted. He’d put in the largest one, telling her that the next thing in her ass would be his cock.

Preparing her, he’d pulled her to all fours on the bed and fucked her from the rear. Clutching the pillows, she closed her eyes and felt herself overcome by orgasms ripping through her. It had been the most erotic so far. And, she held her breath, he was still in her. Every other time, he’d pulled out before falling asleep. Ironically, after the brief argument, it was as if they’d gained a new level of trust between them. This time, saying he wanted to be inside her without barriers, he’d forgone the condom.

As if sensing the thought, he rolled to his back, his softened penis slipping free of her heat. His arm held her close to him. She smiled. It was as if even though his cock was out of her, he had to make sure she was near enough to possess.

Closing her eyes, she fought the emotions. He didn’t like emotions. She’d figured that out quickly. And, as he’d reminded her more than once, they were together only for sex. She would never know his name and if they did, by some wild coincidence, run into each other, she would have to pretend she didn’t know him. How the hell she was supposed to act like she didn’t know the man who’d possessed her body in every way possible was beyond her, but she knew she would have to. She would have to be the Ice Queen Kevin had called her. Otherwise, she would fall at his feet and beg him to fuck her where they were. She could imagine the look of horror on his face at such a display. He’d obviously had to deal with women like that and would hate any further publicity.

She nibbled her lower lip. There was something familiar about him, similar to someone she knew. She tried to remember, but couldn’t. She couldn’t remember seeing him in the papers the last few years, but then, she reminded herself, not every CEO courted publicity the way Trump did. She frowned. Why was she so sure he was a CEO or something?

Because of the way he acted, moved, thought and carried himself. She’d been around enough to know that there was something indefinable about men who had a certain power, money, breeding and education. Which left her out of his circle entirely. She’d had to spill the beans about not graduating from high school. Oh, that was smart! He’d probably already known and been testing her to see if she would make something up to impress him. At least he knew she wouldn’t lie to him, she sighed.

The chances of her ever running into him again were slim to none. Unless she turned stalker or something. She grinned. She could always ask Rose or Heather if they knew him. Although trying to find out about a man when she didn’t know his first name would be hard to explain. Rose was so focused on making Brody pay for his treatment of Lily, and Heather was so busy keeping Rose and Jasmine out of trouble that neither would be of much help. Certainly she couldn’t ask Jasmine.

Jasmine. Francine nearly groaned. Good lord, that girl could get into trouble just by walking across the street. Jasmine, Francine thought darkly, would benefit from someone like
master
. Not this man, but her own.

That brought her thoughts back to the man holding her. It didn’t make much sense. Barely twenty-four hours ago she had been convinced all men were worthless assholes and she’d be better off becoming a nun. One man had turned her world upside-down and broken her heart. Another had shown her a world she’d never dreamt of, and a hunger in herself that she’d never imagined. Erotic, dark and sweet.

She sighed, knowing that she only had a few more hours with him. The entire adventure would be nothing more than something to dream about as she played with her vibrator.

But she would make damn sure she got something from every minute left.

Reaching a hand down, she brushed his penis and smiled as it twitched to life.

“You remember what I said earlier?” a husky voice asked.

A shiver of delicious anticipation raced up and down her spine.

“Yes, master,” she whispered. “You said that next time I touched your cock without permission that you would spank me and…”

“Fuck your ass,” he growled as her fingers wrapped around the hard length now jutting up from its bed of dark hair. “While you were gagged, blindfolded, and had a dildo in your pussy.”

“Yes, master.” She swallowed. This was it. She would be at his complete sexual mercy. Her pussy clenched as moisture flooded it. Her nipples tightened. “I understand.”

“Get on the spanking bench, slave,” he ordered.

“Yes, master.”

He lifted his arm and leg and she scrambled off the bed.