by Lora Leigh
“These rooms are off-limits to you, ma’am. I think you were already informed that the back of the house is no place for you to be. If you wish to visit, then Mr. Sinclair will have to accompany you.”
Luck was a mercurial suitor. Some days she had it in spades, others, it eluded her entirely. This evening, it seemed to be on its best behavior. The doors opened wide, causing his attention to fracture and give her the opening she needed to slip into the room.
She glanced behind her, smiling innocently at the irate butler and the more than surprised club member as he stared back at her.
She stepped inside the ornately decorated room, her gaze flickering over the heavy chairs and dark tables. It reminded her quite a bit of her father’s study. Shelves lined the inner wall, stacked with books and erotic statuettes. A fireplace flickered merrily on one end of the room, while banks of windows looked out on a heated pool and Jacuzzi.
Several seating arrangements were scattered about the ballroom-sized room, as well as tables and areas of privacy. The bar graced the far end with a wealth of bottles lined up along the wall.
Ahh, yes. This was where she needed to be. She paused at the mahogany bar, glancing over her shoulder to meet the astounded gazes of the dozen or so men now watching her before turning back to the bartender.
“Club members only.”
She nearly sighed as the burly, savage-featured bartender watched her with chilling politeness. Men were such aggravating creatures at times.
“Perhaps I’m a guest?” She lifted a brow mockingly.
His lips twitched but of course, the smile did not make its appearance. Ian must be instructing them on how to make her life miserable, she decided.
“It’s a men’s club, Miss Mattlaw,” he said coolly before flickering a suggestive glance at the gentleman sitting two stools down, or perhaps hinting at a fellow conspirator.
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She turned to survey the other man. Wicked, wicked blue eyes were filled with laughter, while thick black hair framed an outrageously handsome face.
“Ian is such an old fuddy-duddy.” She rolled her eyes with practiced charm.
“Could I convince you to buy me a drink? It seems he’s already effectively tied my hands where such matters are concerned.”
A black brow lifted slowly as his gaze flickered to her wrists. “Not yet he hasn’t,” he said before turning to Thom. “Give the lady a drink.” Thom grimaced good-naturedly. “Long as it’s your ass rather than mine, Cole.” He turned back to her then. “Hurry with your order, darlin’. My guess is that Matthew has already called Ian. I’ll give him a flat five more minutes before he arrives.”
“Jack on the rocks then,” she sighed, propping her chin in her hand as she leaned against the bar, well aware the skirt was edging indecent on the backs of her thighs.
The drink was delivered within seconds.
Turning, Courtney lifted the drink to her lips and stared back at the gazes trained on her. A subtle salute, a curl of her lips, before she took a healthy swallow of the fine whisky.
The bite and burn tore into her belly, causing her to close her eyes at the sensations it evoked. A pleasure, a pain. She hummed her enjoyment, feeling the room heat up drastically as several curses whispered through the room.
“Ian isn’t going to happy to see you here, Miss Mattlaw,” Cole, her savior, informed her humorously.
Courtney opened her eyes, turning to slant him a curious look. He was wearing a wedding band. A thick, obvious stamp of ownership. Trojans might share their women, but they never touched other females. He was safe.
“Perhaps Ian’s pleasure in this small area isn’t high on my list of priorities,” she suggested archly.
Suspicion filled the dark blue eyes. “What areas interest you?”
“In Ian’s pleasure?” she asked curiously. “Why would you care?”
“Ian’s a friend.” He shrugged muscled shoulders carelessly. “And you don’t appear to be the sweet little virgin he warned us all against.” Her brows snapped into a frown. “He warned you against me? In what manner?”
“In the manner that if they touch you.” He nodded to the men still watching curiously. “They don’t just lose membership, they lose vital body parts.” He was laughing. It was obvious he found it all highly entertaining.
“And he did such a thing for what reason?” Not that she had any designs on the other men, but the fact that he would do so irked her feminine pride.
“Virgins are endangered species,” he lowered his voice, though it still vibrated with laughter.
21
Lora Leigh
“Virgin?” She threw back the rest of her drink before smacking it back to the bar. “I would have never guessed Ian was a virgin. My, my, who was that I saw fucking the housemaids while he stayed on the estate? I should discuss this with him. Rumors can be so cruel.”
Chuckles echoed through the room.
“I gather the virgin isn’t you?” He sat back in his stool, watching her intently as his hand drummed idly, silently against the bar.
Slowly, she spread her arms, well aware of the wickedness of the outfit and the soft sheen of silky bare flesh.
“I hardly think so.” She smiled slowly. “Virginity is such a chore. One is never allowed to have any fun when her daddy believes such a heinous thing. But, when Daddy is happy, life is much better.”
“So what Daddy doesn’t know, doesn’t affect the little non-virgin’s life?” he asked with a hint of mockery.
“Exactly.” She shot Thom a disgruntled look as she turned from Cole. “You are not a very effective bartender. My glass is still empty.” Thom looked to Cole, as though asking permission. What happened to Trojans being dominant, alpha, take-charge men? She was about to become very disappointed in them.
Courtney barely restrained her exasperated sigh.
“My glass is empty, Thom,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, and Ian’s most likely on his way,” he grunted. “You’ve had your limit, ma’am.”
She would have pouted if she thought it would do her any good. Instead, she allowed a small smile to cross her lips, the one that should have warned him that her day was coming.
“Fine. Ian has a perfectly outfitted bar upstairs. I merely assumed the company was much more interesting here. I heard the Trojans were a bit more adventurous than it appears they are.”
“Being adventurous and having a death wish are two different things,” Cole reminded her as she stood from the stool and stepped down from the small dais the bar sat upon before turning for the door.
She watched suspiciously as one of the men at the table closest to her pushed his bottle of whisky across the table in invitation. He lounged back in his chair, lazily relaxed, his black eyes curious as he watched her.
Now there was one willing to break the rules, she thought admiringly. It was too bad that for this first confrontation with Ian, it was much better that no other males be involved.
Too bad Thom and Cole weren’t as forthright.
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What had ever made her think that the men in his club would dare go against Ian’s orders? He was as dangerous to cross as her father was, and she knew it. What was it about her that she seemed surrounded by overprotective males? Did she seem so innocent? She didn’t feel innocent. She felt frustrated and on edge and purely pissed that the only emotion she seemed to be able to inspire in Ian was his blasted protectiveness.
She ignored the silent offer of the whisky. It wasn’t the drink she wanted. She turned and headed for the closed double doors, intent on perhaps trying a different venue to tempt her prey. There had to be a way. As she took her first step, the doors were flung open with a controlled, subtle display of power and anger. They didn’t bounce against the wall, but the crack of wood meeting wood echoed around the room.
And there was Ian.
She drew in
a deep breath, fighting to ignore the gut punch of arousal that suddenly clenched the muscles of her belly and left her fighting for breath. She could feel tiny, invisible fingers of sensation chasing over her flesh, tightening on her breasts until they became swollen, her nipples tight and hot.
He wasn’t exactly handsome, not as Cole was. He looked like he would be more comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt than the silk slacks and white Egyptian cotton shirt he wore. His long, dark brown hair fell below his shirt collar, tied back at the nape of his neck, giving him a reckless, dangerous appearance right off.
His blue eyes were narrowed, glittering angrily behind those generously lashed eyelids. She felt her pussy convulse, her cream immediately preparing her for him. Her clit became engorged, throbbing heatedly as she caught his gaze and saw, for the briefest moment, a wild, burning surge of arousal.
This what she wanted. This was the Ian she fantasized about. Now, what the hell was she supposed to do?
23
Lora Leigh
Chapter Two
Instantly. In a second, Ian’s dick was steel-hard and throbbing with a lust he had never imagined possible. He could feel hunger pulsing in every pore of his skin, his body tightening, his mouth watering for the taste of her.
Masses of long, dark hair flowing nearly to her hips, framing a delicate, aristocratic face, wide dark eyes, high cheekbones, lips that trembled. She didn’t wear so much as a speck of makeup, but he’d be damned if she needed it. The fresh, natural innocence that glowed beneath her flesh gave her an ethereal, sensual beauty that had his loins tied in so many knots he wondered how he was breathing.
And there she stood, in the middle of his club, her nipples poking against the white fabric of her snug top, her dark brown eyes partially covered by lowered lids but shining, as though some inner light brightened the beautiful orbs. Surrounding her were nearly a dozen of the most dominant men to possess membership in the club. Not counting the married Cole.
Khalid, the half-Saudi illegitimate son of a sheik watched her from a table nearby.
His black eyes were naked with lust, his expression curious, as the sexual tension seemed to shoot sky-high within the room. Fueled by the center of attention, the delicate little morsel dressed like a dream, and obviously, heatedly, unashamedly aroused.
She was what they all dreamed of. Unabashedly aware of her surroundings and the men watching her, aroused, eager to be touched. And yes she was eager. It glittered in her eyes, just as the pebble-hard tips of her breasts proclaimed it. She would give to him. She would scream for him and beg for more. She would fight him when he needed it, give in eagerly when he hungered for it.
She would destroy him.
Ian forced himself to pull the fragmented remains of his anger around him. Nothing was going to ease the hard-on pounding between his thighs, but maybe, if he was very, very lucky, he could control a situation that threatened his sanity.
“You were told this area of the house was off-limits.” His voice was rough, the guttural tone surprising him.
He watched as her cheeks flushed before his gaze flickered down to watch her abdomen convulse.
“I’m told a lot of things that I ignore, Ian.” Composed, husky, filled with hunger.
He heard it all in her voice and it made him impossibly harder. There was no anger in her, only a bit of humor, a lot of arousal.
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Son of a bitch. He was going to explode if he wasn’t careful. The rueful suggestiveness in her voice had every man in the room shifting in his chair, obviously as hard as he was. How long had it been since he had seen such natural sensuality?
Such supreme confidence in a woman and her effect on the male sex?
He forced himself to move, to walk to her, to keep from throwing her across a table just to see if she was wearing panties under that tiny skirt. He had a feeling she wasn’t.
Did she shave or wax? he wondered. If she were his, she would be bare, pierced, screaming as his dick stretched her wide.
He gritted his teeth, forcing back the thoughts. Dane would fucking kill him. And rightly so. There was little enough innocence left in the world, he would be damned if he would be the cause of so much as a single virgin losing hers. And she was a virgin.
Innocence shrouded her, glowed from inside her despite her sensuality. There was no possibility that she was anything less.
“You don’t ignore the rules here, Courtney.” Touching her was going to be hell.
“They’re here for a reason. Get back to the main part of the house. Now.” Her brows snapped into a frown as the flush on her cheeks deepened.
“Do I look like a child to you?” She waved her hand down her upper body as she cocked a hip and faced him in challenge. “Excuse me, Ian, but I haven’t been a child for quite a while, and I don’t appreciate being spoken to as though I were one.” His hands itched. They fucking itched to feel the soft, sweet flesh of her well-rounded ass burning beneath them. Damn her, he had never, ever wanted to possess anything as desperately as he wanted to possess Courtney now.
“You know what this club is, Courtney.” He crossed his arms over his chest, fighting to instill derision, censure in his voice. “How would your father feel if he saw you here?”
“How many times has he visited?” She smiled knowingly. “I know my parent’s lifestyle, Ian. Just as I know my father is indeed a member of your very elite establishment. As I have already explained to you, I am not a child.”
“You are not a member of this club,” he snapped then. “Members only, Courtney, for a reason. Now get your ass out of here.”
“So, how does one go about receiving membership?” She seemed to ignore the harshness of his voice. Even her eyes hadn’t dimmed, nor sparkled with pain or anger.
As though the cruel words hadn’t even registered. “I will assume some of your women are allowed in here?”
“Our women.” He smiled tightly. “You do not belong to any man here. You are exempt.”
Her eyes narrowed, though the smile that tipped her lips was almost frightening.
Knowing. As old and as knowledgeable as Eve herself. She licked her lips slowly, her gaze flickering around the room.
“Then I need a patron of sorts?” she asked softly. “I think that could be arranged.” 25
Lora Leigh
Like hell.
Touching her was the worst mistake possible, but every damned man in the room was ready to stand up and offer their services. His gaze hardened as he followed her look, warning them all. It didn’t sit well with any of them.
“Such force,” she murmured in amusement, aptly deciphering his look. “Very well, Ian. I’ll leave your very lovely club and return to the main portion of the house. It’s obvious I’ll find no entertainment here…” She paused before staring back at him, her look direct, determined. “But there are other places I’m certain I’ll be welcome.” She moved around him slowly, obviously not in the least intimidated by either his anger or the tension pulsing between them. Sexual tension, so fucking hot his skin prickled with it.
He turned, watching her leave, the swish of her skirt just beneath the rounded globes of her ass, her luscious legs moving with an inborn, natural grace. She passed through the doorway, looking neither right nor left, nor glancing behind her. She knew every man in the room was watching her, she didn’t have to check to be certain. Finally, blessedly, Matthew closed the doors, leaving him to face the condemning stares of the men now watching him.
“Virgins are off-limits,” he snapped, reinforcing his past rule. “Especially this one.
Most especially this one.”
“And what makes you so certain she’s a virgin?” The argument came from the one person he hadn’t expected to speak up.
Cole Andrews lounged lazily on the barstool, a drink cradled in his hand as he watched Ian closely.
“Does it matter?” he snapped.
Cole
shrugged. “Not to me, but it might to the others.” He indicated the men now watching with single-minded focus. “The rules don’t give you a right to select the women they choose to share. Just because she’s the daughter of a friend doesn’t make her exempt.”
Ian clenched his fists, fighting the need pounding through him. Damn Cole to hell and back, he had no idea just how much Ian wished he could make her exempt.
“Her virginity makes her exempt,” he snarled, hating it, despising that veil of innocence that held him from her. If he were a lesser man, he would allow one of the others to have her, to bring her in, then take her. It would ease the lust, but not his conscience. He had known her too long, helped Dane protect her too many times. He wouldn’t be party to seeing that light inside her extinguished. Not him, and not those within this room.
“She’s not a virgin.” Cole’s confident conclusion had heat swirling through Ian’s body, pooling in his dick and torturing him with the demand that he go to her, fuck her, pound the hunger out of his system.
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“And you know this how?” he snarled. “Should Tessa be making an appointment with her lawyer?”
Cole laughed. A low, amused sound that grated on Ian’s nerves.
“You’re a fool, Ian.” He shook his head slowly. “That girl is no more a virgin than Tess is. But you do what you want to. I’m sure, that as she said, she’ll find entertainment elsewhere. Beautiful women like that have no hardship finding what they need.”
He lifted his glass, tossing back the last of his drink as he rose from his stool and moved to leave the room.
“Too bad she only got aroused when you walked in the room,” he said as he passed Ian. “That’s one woman who shouldn’t be wasted on a cynical prick such as yourself.
Maybe Tess can try her hand at matchmaking…”
Maybe Tess could try her hand at matchmaking…