Yours to Savor (22 page)

Brandon was friends with all the high-ranking city officials. He’d known some of them for nearly a decade. Charming them at dinners, clubs, and exclusive celebrity events was what he did best.

In return, they left his network alone and focused on the less sophisticated dealers on the streets. Those were the ones who caused problems: the ones caught up in gangs and guns and violence. They dealt shit crack to junkies, lacing the drugs with detergents and other chemicals to drive their profits up.
Those
were the transactions that resulted in disputes;
those
were the transactions that could cause a scene;
those
were the operations that politicians and law enforcement were happy to concentrate on.

Brandon’s network, on the other hand, ruffled no feathers. He and his business partner had designed it from the start to make it so. They focused on the needs of rich clientele: actors, movie stars, playboy millionaires, and whoever else had enough money to value discretion about their drug use above all. Bankers and plastic surgeons, Fortune 500 board members and professional athletes—all turned to his network to satisfy their needs.

He stepped out of the car, consulted his reflection in the window, and straightened his suit. Satisfied, he leaned in to grab an aluminum suitcase from the passenger seat. He strode toward the entrance of the building while lowering his Tag Heuer sunglasses over his eyes.

What would surprise most people, Brandon imagined, was just how flawed the entire drug enforcement system was. He opened the door to the building, and nodded to a security guard who punched in a code to let Brandon walk through the metal detector without tripping the alarm. Brandon smiled. Corruption seeped its way from the high to the low.

Brandon passed some familiar faces in the lobby, and smiled at each one. All the high-level government officials were in on drugs. You couldn’t be around it for so long and
not
be tempted, no matter how strong your original morals were. Some resisted, of course, but they quickly found themselves on the outside looking in. Even the ground troops, the law enforcement agents conducting small-time seizures at traffic stops and raves, wouldn’t object to a colleague “destroying” some evidence by using it himself.

Brandon chuckled as he waited for the elevator. What did it matter to them as long as the substance was off the street? It satisfied their superiors and satisfied the public.

In fact, the only two people Brandon knew involved in this line of work who didn’t partake were his business partner and himself. Their abstinence, however, stemmed from different reasons.

His business partner did not want to be tempted by their network’s inventory. Inventory brought money, and an impartial mind was needed to distribute it in ways to maximize profits.

For Brandon, things were much different. He vowed never to use drugs after someone he’d dealt to had died.

It had happened long ago, many years before he’d even met his business partner. He was still in high school. He’d been at a party, and a younger girl had come up to him after learning he had a “source.” He’d sold to her without hesitation. He’d just been getting started, and was thrilled to have made his first-ever real sale.

After she’d died from an overdose that same night, Brandon understood the consequences of his actions. He’d never been able to forgive himself for her death, but he’d made peace with it to some degree by developing a strict set of morals that had guided him ever since. He vowed never to sell to anybody younger than he was. He vowed never to involve anybody younger in his network. And he vowed that the only people he would sell to—the
only
ones—were those sharp enough to understand the difference between an indulgent habit and an addiction.

That was why it was important for him to be on the ground in Ocean Shores as soon as he was done in Seattle. Even if Brandon didn’t know the kid Mark was worried about, Brandon would
not
have him throw his life away in a vain attempt to make a bit of cash. As soon as he showed up on their radar, Brandon felt personally responsible. That was why Brandon had to find him, straighten his head, and make sure the kid
never
involved himself with drugs again.

And that would be his final job before turning over control of the network to his business partner. He could go back to Chicago, see his family, and move on to ventures on the right side of the law. Real estate interested him next. He had more than enough capital available to make a splash in that world.

All I need now is the right woman beside me
.

The elevator arrived at the highest floor, and Brandon stepped off. Just at that moment, his phone buzzed. He glanced down to find a message form Sandra.
Speak of the devil…

He opened the message:

Meet me at the hotel bar tonight.
Reservations are at eight.

Brandon smirked. She’d copied the wording from the card he’d sent.

He glanced at his watch, and saw that he had a few hours left.

They promised to be the longest hours of his life.

Chapter Fourteen

Time dragged by at a snail’s pace as Brandon wrapped up his meetings for the day. Every few minutes he found himself glancing at his watch, willing the hour hand to move faster. He couldn’t get Sandra’s mysterious message out of his mind.

When he walked into the hotel lobby at eight, his heart was pounding in anticipation. He turned toward the hotel bar, and stopped.

He saw her immediately.

Sandra was turned away from him. She was sitting in a decadent, low cut blue dress that exposed much of her elegant shoulders and back. He was dazzled by the beauty of her pale, smooth skin, by the delicate structure of her body.

He didn’t know how he’d given himself away, but somehow, mere moments after he’d spotted her, Sandra tossed her head and looked right at him.

Time ground to a halt. The gaze she directed at him was raw, unadulterated hunger. A smoky haze filled the sides of his vision; all he could focus on was
her
. A slow, sensual smile graced Sandra’s lips. He stared at her, transfixed. She pivoted on the stool so that her body faced his.

Very slowly, and very deliberately, she repositioned her legs, crossing them over each other, silky smooth skin gliding against silky smooth skin.

Brandon exhaled heavily. Did she
know
what that type of display did to a man? An older gentleman passing by gave him a strange look, but Brandon didn’t pay any attention. His eyes were on Sandra.

She traced a finger around her lips. Her mouth parted slightly, and the finger dipped inside. She leaned back against the bar, arching her back to expose her neck and chest, and slowly slid the finger down her body.

Brandon was about to lose control.

She stopped just short of her breasts, allowing her hand to linger there a moment. Then she closed her eyes and leaned even further back, taking a deep breath that heaved her breasts up. In a flash her head snapped back up. Brandon realized that she held her keycard in one hand.

She reached out, letting the card dangle from her fingertips. And ever-so-casually let it fall to the floor. Her brows rose in faux-surprise, and she seemed to mouth,
Oops
, as she pursed her lips.

No way in hell
, Brandon thought.
If she
—
Oh, God.

Sandra leaned forward for the card, reaching down in a graceful motion to expose her cleavage completely for him. His eyes went to the magnificent swell of her breasts, to the spidery silk black lingerie peeking out from beneath the dress. Had she worn that last night? No. This was something new.

God, watching her like that was like a private show. Brandon dared to take his eyes off her for a second to look for anyone else enjoying the view. Luckily, the hotel was nearly empty.

Lucky, because he was growing hard just looking at her.

She retrieved the card, slowly trailed it along one calve, up her thigh, and over the skin-tight fabric of her blue dress. Then she reached down and placed it in her bra. Suddenly she giggled, breaking the spell for a second—and then resumed the seductress air.

There was too little blood left in Brandon’s head to think.

The moment lasted only seconds, but to him it felt like hours. The walk toward Sandra was the longest he’d ever made. He strode to her, barely managing to hide the growing bulge in his pants.

Her eyes were locked with his as he moved. Those eyes… they looked ready. It was the first time he’d seen her like this. There were no secrets there, tonight.

This night was all about her.

The smell of her perfume hit him, causing him to stagger like a drunk. He knew it was hers through all the smells of the bar, because he knew
her
scent beneath it. He took a deliberate, slow breath to savor the smell.

Blood simmering, every step bringing it closer to a boil, he narrowed the final torturous gap between them.

“Hello,” he tried to say. His brain wasn’t functioning well enough for him to know how he did. He had the vague impression that the word came out as a growl.

“Hello, stranger.” It was a low, sultry voice that left Sandra’s lips.
Oh yes,
Brandon thought,
she’d practiced.

From up close, Brandon noted the beauty of her bright red lips, her long lashes, her pale silver eyes. He was blown away by her natural splendor, by how little makeup she actually wore. It was nothing at all compared to the girls he usually associated with. She didn’t need any of that.

“Sandra—”

“Hush.” She placed a finger on his lips. “Don’t say a word. Tonight, you’re all mine.”

He could feel his pulse quickening, could feel the press of his jeans against his growing erection. Sandra didn’t miss it either.

“I must be doing something right,” she murmured to herself, sounding impressed. Then, without warning, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him in for the most exciting kiss of his life.

She offered no resistance when their lips met. Unlike the other times he’d kissed her, she was the one initiating; she was the one taking control. Sandra’s other hand slid around his neck and she moaned against his mouth as his tongue pressed down to ravage hers. Those plump, full lips were searing fire in his mouth, and the smell of
her
beneath the light sprinkling of perfume made his heart pound like a wolf that’d caught the scent of its quarry.

The way she brought him in, the hungry way that her hand tore at his hair told him Sandra was willing to be more than kissed tonight. She was ready for him, and—
God help him—
he was helpless to resist.

One of his hands found her outer thigh, the warm flesh searing under his touch, and he couldn’t stop himself from gripping her tight. But he didn’t need to stop tonight. He was certain Sandra already knew she was worth more to him than a one-night stand.

Hell, this was the longest he’d desired a woman and
not
fucked her.

His hand clamped on her knee, slid up the outside of her warm, smooth thigh, graced over her full hip and stopped in the curve of her lower back. He held her, pulling her toward him as he continued to explore her mouth with his. And
fuck
, did her body feel good beneath that lace-thin dress!