Read His Call Online

Authors: Emma Hart

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica

His Call (2 page)

BOOK: His Call
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The One Where They Have A Second First Time

She looks fucking beautiful.

She’s a vision in that turquoise lace, and I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes off of her. The way it hugs her body like a second skin has had my cock twitching inside my pants all night, and now I’m almost ready to drag her out of here and take her to our room.

Almost.

For a minute longer, I watch her. I watch the way she smiles, her face lighting up as she does, and the gentle way she pushes her wayward hair from her face. I watch the way she lifts her glass to her mouth and sips the wine inside. The way her throat bobs as she swallows, and my eyes settle on her chest as she laughs, making her perky tits jerk with the motion.

Shit… Fuck…
I swallow the last of my drink as the woman she was talking to leaves and crosses the room. My eyes never leave Dayton. Nothing is stopping me from taking this woman upstairs and burying my cock inside her tonight.

I throb at the thought, blood rushing downward and hardening my dick. She turns away from me and brings her glass to her lips again.

“We’re going,” I whisper behind her, my lips brushing the nape of her neck.

“It’s still early.” Amusement threads through her tone
—amusement I plan to fuck right out of her.

“Turn around.”

Slowly, she does as I say and rests her hands on my chest. I lower my face to hers, keeping our eye contact, and she draws in a long breath.

“Now tell me, do I look like a give a fuck?”

Dark eyes flick over my face. “No.”

I wrap an arm around her back, my hand settling on her waist, and whisper, “Then let’s go.”

Full of certainty, I lead her through the busy room. Everyone who glances our way is met with my hard stare. I’m not stopping. Not this time. Not ever. Not with Dayton.

I jab the button on the elevator impatiently.

“No goodbyes?” she mutters.

I flip her toward the elevator and lean against her. Her body is soft beneath mine, and I take advantage of the slight part of her lips by covering them with mine. “I’m going to be inside you within the hour and you’re worried about saying goodbye?”

Her quick intake of breath is audible.

“Hmm?” I push my hips into her.

“No. Not worried.”

Good,
I think, wrapping a hand around her neck and taking her mouth prisoner with mine. I kiss her firmly and desperately, letting her know how much I need her. Fuck, does she even know? Can she even comprehend the way I need to feel her bare skin against mine?

I break the kiss and back into the suite, tugging her with me. I meet her eyes and show her the truth of my words in my gaze, because I mean every fucking bit of it.

“Leave it,” I demand sharply. “All the client bullshit, all the money, and all the obligations. Leave it in the motherfucking elevator and tell me you want me. Tell me you want me to fuck you so hard the only thing you’ll be able to scream by the end of the night is my name.”

She says nothing, just stares at me, her cheeks flushing.

“Say it!” I pull her closer, harshly, demandingly.

“I want you!” Her voice is small but strong. “Fucking hell. I shouldn’t but I do. I want you.”

“How badly?”

“Don’t push it.”

I dig my fingers into her skin and lower my face. “How fucking badly?”

“So bad that if you don’t kiss me right this fucking second I might hit you!”

My lips crash into hers with the ferocity I feel inside. I need this woman naked and I need my cock inside her. There will be nothing slow or loving about this. There’s too much rawness for this to be anything but intense and hard. There’s too much time passed. Too much desperation to feel completeness once more.

Her fingers find my jacket as I nibble on her bottom lip and she pushes it over my shoulders.

“Want me or need me?” I clarify.

“Shut up and take it off before I rip it off.” There’s a quiet moan in her voice, and a rush goes through me at the thought
that she’s as affected by me as I am by her.

“You forgot something.” I unzip her dress, allowing my fingertips to ghost down her spine.

“What’s that?”

“My name.”

She pulls back and her eyes bore into mine. “I’m about to rip your shirt off,
Mr. Stone.
Are you okay with that?”

My cock throbs. “Not really.”

“Tough shit.” A smile plays on her lips as she does it anyway.

I push her against the wall and sweep my tongue through her mouth in one long
, possessive stroke. So she understands that no other man will ever fucking touch her the way I am right now. The way I plan to. No other man will ever see her come.

She whimpers into my mouth, a sound that makes me kiss her harder. She drops her hands to my belt
, and I step back.

“Hell no. Don’t you remember what I said?”

I feel her body tense, from the muscles in her hands grasped by mine to the thigh alongside my own.

My tongue flicks out against her neck with my quiet chuckle. “I’m going to taste you now, Dayton. And I’m going to take my sweet fucking time exploring every bit of that beautiful cunt.”

Her chest rises and falls frantically as I kiss down her neck and across the curve of her breasts. Her gorgeous, gorgeous tits that are begging to be held in my hands… Later. Right now, I can smell the wetness drenching what she calls panties, and it’s calling to me.

My lips travel down her stomach to the curve of her hip and the turquoise string resting on it. There’s nothing to these panties
—fucking nothing at all—and I relish this. She picked these for me. She picked them because she knew I’d like the skimpy material that barely covers any of her.

I brush my finger across the material covering the mound above her folds and hook the tip beneath it.

“I like these. I hope you asked her for more than one pair.”

I run my finger across the side and tug hard. The material frays then rips, falling away from her body and exposing the most intimate part of her to me the way it should be.

“Nope. Just that one.”

“Order m
ore.” I lightly blow on her mound, smiling at the shiver that runs through her body at the sensation. She pushes her hips forward in a silent beg for my mouth against her ready flesh.

I
slowly run my hands across her thighs, savoring the silky feel of her skin beneath my palms, and hook her legs over my shoulders just like I once promised I would. I never break a fucking promise, especially not where Dayton and her pussy are concerned.

“Please,” she whimpers, hooking her ankles behind my back.

I squeeze her tight ass, moving my mouth infinitesimally closer to her. “Are you begging?”

“No.”

I run my nose along her thigh, pausing just before I reach the spot she’s dying for me to touch her at.

“Are you begging?” I ask again, a hardness in my voice that demands a real answer.

“Yes,” she gasps. “I’m fucking begging you!”

I stretch my tongue out and
slowly run it across her slit, from her ass to the tip of her clit. I find her ready channel and flick my tongue inside it, her juices covering my tongue as I do. She tastes…

“Fuck,” I moan, running my tongue along her again. I forgot this, this fucking incredible feeling of
her against my mouth. “You taste amazing.”

Her answering cry is music to my ears. I push her legs open even
farther and continue my exploration of her pussy. She clenches her muscles beneath my fingertips and pushes her hips into my face. Small moans and cries fall repeatedly from between her lips, and I glance up.

Her eyes are closed, her lips parted. Her cheeks are flushed and rosy, and I can feel how close to the edge she is. I want to take her there. I want her to fall apart on my tongue.

“Dayton,” I growl as I touch my thumb to her clit.

It has the desired effect as she explodes into my mouth and tugs on my hair and cries out loudly. I flex my tongue against her until she’s calm, but her body is still quivering with the aftereffects of her orgasm when I lower her legs to my waist and stand.

Cupping her ass with my hand, I reach between us and position the end of my cock against her wet opening. The urge to slide inside her right now, to bury myself right to the hilt and feel her warmth around me is so strong. Instead, I hold back, teasing both of us with the gentle rubbing of my head against her.

“For the love of God, Aaron,” Dayton breathes out, “just fuck me already!”

“You asked for it,” I say as I close my lips over hers and push inside her with ease.

Her pussy walls clench around me
, and it’s like fucking heaven being inside her. Everything I remember and so, so much fucking more.

I push into her a second time and her pleasured shudder undoes me. I cup the back of her head,
tilt her hips, and thrust into her harder and faster. Sweat covers our skin, and Dayton tightens her grip on my waist, allowing me to push even deeper inside her.

She reaches her fingers into my hair and grips hard, dropping her forehead to my shoulder. Every clench of her pussy brings me closer to the edge. Her
high moans are my kryptonite, tightening my grasp on her body and deepening my thrusts inside her.

And I can feel it, the moment she holds back. The sharp intake of breath is too much.

“Stop fucking holding it back,” I whisper into her ear. Her cunt clamps down on me, and my balls tighten as my own orgasm threatens. “Fuck. Dayton. Come. Now!”

She drops her head back, but that’s not good enough. I want her looking into my fucking eyes so she remembers this moment. So she remembers
that the person making her come isn’t just a fucking client.

“Eyes. Look at me.”

She moans, and they open briefly.

“Open your eyes!”

She does as I say this time, and I find myself lost in her dark, seductive gaze.

“Don’t you dare close them. I want to
see you and feel you come.” I push deeper into her.

“Fuck
,” she whimpers.

“Hard. Come hard or not at all. Got it?”

She nods, and I take that as my cue. I pound into her, my cock reaching the very depths of her pussy, rubbing that sensitive spot over and over. I feel my cock swelling as her muscles tighten around me, and when I think she’ll never come, she does.

She all but screams my name, tugging hard on my hair and squeezing my cock. The simultaneous action pulls my orgasm from me.

“God, Dayton,” I groan into her neck, burying myself deep inside her as her muscles clench and pull everything she can from me.

She’s shaking in my grip. Her whole body is quivering against me, and I kiss her to steady her. Her lips are warm as they sweep against mine, and I pull her from the wall.

Dayton pulls her hands from my hair and wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me close. I lower her to the bed, but she doesn’t let go. Her arms stay firmly around me, and my cock is still inside her. I silence all the questions in my mind and spin us to the side.

I wrap my arms around her beautiful body and pull her against me. She snuggles into me, burying her face in my neck, and I close my eyes to a sigh leaving her lips. A sigh that sounds decidedly happy, I think.

I trail my fingers up and down her spine until, eventually, we both fall asleep.

The One Where The Truth Comes Out

I was raised to believe
that every man has his own beliefs, whether you agree or not. I don’t tend to agree with a lot of people.

I don’t believe in God. I’m not religious, and I’m not convinced
that there’s a greater being out there, hovering above the clouds, watching my every move. That wasn’t the family I was raised in.

But I sure as hell believe in fucking miracles, because nothing less could have brought Dayton Black back to me after seven long years.

I don’t know what kind of luck was hanging over my head that day five weeks ago when she pulled that curtain shut and faced me. I wish I knew what fucked-up coincidence pulled us back together in a cruel yet beautiful twist of fate.

All I know is
that she’s here. And for now, she’s mine.

I
gently rub my thumb across her silky cheek, keeping my breathing shallow so I don’t wake her. She looks so damn peaceful now, so damn beautiful. When she’s sleeping like this, I know she’s not worrying about us. She’s not worrying about this ridiculous situation I keep forcing on her.

She’s just being.

Her gorgeous tits are rising and falling with every breath she takes, and those pink lips I was nibbling on last night are parted ever so slightly. The urge to drop my mouth to hers and sweep her away in a sea of seduction is too much, too fucking much, so I pull my hand away from her face and roll over.

The bed creaks when I move, and I pause to look back at her. She doesn’t move, deep in her slumber, and I stand. I grab some underwear and pants, tug them up my legs, and quietly leave the room. The door stands ajar behind me so I can hear her when she wakes.

‘Cause, damn. I love her, but she’s a real bitch until she’s had her morning cup of coffee.

I fill the machine with extra coffee beans and water and turn it on. The low hum of it grinding the beans is an odd relaxant to me.

Spending so much time in London has lead me to prefer tea over coffee, if only just, but Dayton has reversed that. Her incessant need for “real caffeine,” as she refers to it, is rubbing off on me slightly.

That, and she keeps me up all hours of the night with her wandering hands.

My phone buzzes from the kitchen counter where I left it last night, and I answer it without checking the caller ID.

“Aaron Stone.”

“Son.” My father’s voice is tight yet warm, and I know instantly that he’s calling with bad news. It’s the middle of the fucking night in New York. “How are you?”

“Better than you, I assume, considering you’re calling me at three a.m.”

He takes a deep breath that makes the line crackle. “How is your time off?”

“What’s the problem, Dad? It’s eight in the morning and I don’t have the time or patience to run through pleasantries.”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Twenty-seven years of life means I’m fairly well equipped to know when my father is keeping something from me.” I walk across to the window and trace the outline of the Eiffel Tower the way I
’ve watched Dayton do so many times. “Is there a problem with the business?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what, Dad?”

“Naomi.”

I exhale harshly. Fuck. I knew she’d pop up somewhere. “What’s she done this time?”

“Somehow she’s discovered
that you’re in Paris and has taken it upon herself to organize a welcome dinner for you in your hotel.”

A stream of curse words leave
s my mouth. I’m not in the habit of swearing in front of my parents, but this situation calls for it.

“She’s supposed to be in London. That’s the entire reason for this week
’s break—to avoid a confrontation with her.”

“I know, but she found out, and you’re going have to attend this function.”

“I’m not supposed to be working this week. You know that, Dad.”

“I do, son. But the issue is
that she’s invited a lot of the Paris staff, including models and some clients. You understand the implications if you don’t show your face.”

“Yes.” I run my fingers through my hair, every one of my muscles tightening with the prospect of coming face to face with my wife.

“You have to go, Aaron. Even if just for an hour. I take it Dayton isn’t yet aware of Naomi?”

My jaw tightens, and I ignore his question. “Yes, we’ll be there.”

“Aaron, you must tell her.”

“Okay. Bye.” I hang up and let the phone fall from my fingers. It falls to the floor with a dense thud reminiscent of the way my heart dropped at the mention of my ex’s name.

I fall onto the sofa and rest my arm across my eyes, sighing heavily. Fuck. This very situation is what I was trying to protect Day from.

“That doesn’t sound like a great way to start your day.” Her voice
softly travels across the room, cutting through my thoughts.

“It’s not!”

My voice is sharper than I meant, much sharper than she deserves. I can’t help it. I know Naomi is hosting dinner tonight to spite me and prove some fucked-up point.

I lean my head back on the sofa and look at Dayton. She’s hunched over the counter, a mug under the coffee machine. Defeat radiates from her the same way surprise does. I know I’ve never spoken to her that
way.

She didn’t deserve that.

I push off from the sofa and wrap my arms around her dainty waist. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” She pours a cup of coffee, her chest jolting with a sharp breath. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? If not, I’m going to shower.”

I laugh quietly, trying to relieve some tension. Damn, she knows me so well. Too well, sometimes, I muse. “Someone I’m not particularly fond of heard we’re in Paris this week. They’ve taken the liberty of organizing a company dinner here at the hotel tonight, and my father just informed me that we’re expected to attend. Required to, actually.”

“What if we had plans
?” She steps from my loose hold and raises her eyebrows.

“We did.” I lean against the counter with a heavy sigh. “Now we have new ones. Believe me. I’m not happy about it, Day.”

“Can’t you just explain you’re not working this week? That this is a vacation?”

“No.”

“Well, who is it?”

“Who?”

She clicks her tongue, an impatient, echoing sound. “The person organizing it.”

“Oh. No one important. I’m not sure they’ll even be there.” I pour a cup of coffee, turning away so she won’t see the alarm I know is in my eyes. Everything is going wrong. Just when it was so right, it’s going wrong.

“Aaron,” she pushes, her voice taking a hard tone I’m unused to.

“Leave it, Dayton.” My words are equally as hard, and I hear the chink as her mug hits the marble kitchen
counter I glance from the corner of my eye and watch her as she storms into the bedroom, her hips swinging tantalizingly as she does.

Fucking hell. She really shouldn’t walk away from me when she’s mad.

Ignoring the way my cock is hardening at the shake of her ass, I turn my thoughts back to the matter at hand. Can I convince Dayton that this is something I have to attend alone?

Unrealistic. She’s not stupid. If I say that, she’ll look right through me and laugh. I hired her to accompany me to shit like this
. I can’t exactly stop her doing so right now. No matter how inconvenient this is for me.

I have to try and cancel this
, try and make it go away—my usual panic strategy. Surely my father can call the hotel and arrange some bullshit function to stop her dinner. His name has a lot more pull than hers does.

Dayton emerges from the bedroom, clad in figure-hugging workout gear. I fight the urge to run my eyes over her body and find her gaze, cold and seething.

“Look,” I sigh, “I have a couple of calls to make now. Maybe you should go out for a couple of hours.”

She grasps the door handle, her eyes never leaving mine.
“I was planning to stay out all day. Don’t worry.”

“Day…”

She opens the door with an anger that belies her calm speech. “What time do you need me back here?”

“Four
.”

“Perfect. Don’t bother calling me unless you’ve pulled your head from your ass and calmed the fuck down.”

The door slams loudly behind her, shaking slightly, and I stare at it for a long moment. Fucking hell—this situation just went from bad to worse. Not only is my ex-wife, my dirty skeleton in my closet, stirring shit from her pathetic little rented Parisian apartment, my girlfriend, who knows nothing of her, is raging mad at me.

I take the coffee, retrieve my phone from the floor, and dial my father’s number again.

Time for damage-control mode.

***

“Fucking hell!” I smack my hand against my forehead in defeat. I’ve spent nearly the last seven hours attempting to worm my way out of this ridiculous dinner—to no avail.

We have to go. That’s the end of the story.

I have to tell Dayton the very thing I was keeping from her for her safety, and I have to do it soon. Before we get down there and she finds out from someone else. This isn’t something anyone else has any right to tell her.

It’s my secret and mine to tell.

Something I should have admitted long ago instead of paying her agent not to tell her.

I never thought my feelings toward this fiery brunette would be so strong after so long. I’ll be the first to admit
that she’s always held my heart. Dayton Black has always been the one controlling the strings where my emotions are controlled, but I never realized that her control was so complete.

I had no idea she owned me so fucking entirely
. I’m basically a pussy when it comes to admitting something so real.

Because, fuck, I wanted to tell her. I wanted to blurt it out every time she walked in a room or turned those gorgeous coffee-colored eyes on me. I wanted to rip my chest in two and bare my soul to her for her to do as she wished.

I still do.

But I know now
that it won’t be pretty.

Nothing good will come of our next conversation. Nothing will be salvaged.

I hope for a different outcome. Optimistically and perhaps naïvely, I hope.

She walks into the suite, the door clicking quietly behind her, and I find her stunning profile. She pauses but ignores me, turning toward the bedroom instead of speaking to me. Taking the easy way out.

I know all about taking the easy way out.

“Are you going to ignore me?” I ask, following her into the bedroom.

She drops the bag next to her suitcase and glances at the black dress I laid out earlier for her. “Are you going to talk to me like I deserve to be spoken to, or am I still your outlet for your annoyance?”

The pain that sneaks through into her voice cuts through me
, and I walk to her. I fold her into my arms, bringing her close to my body, savoring the feel of her against me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was wrong to take it out on you.”

“Fucking right you were.” She wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head against my chest. My heart thumps beneath her ear. “Don’t do it again.”

“Ever?”


Ever.
Next time I won’t be so nice to you, nor will I walk away. Talk to me like crap again, Mr. Stone, and I’m going to tear you a new asshole. Got it?”

I bend down, bringing my mouth close to hers. “Got it,” I whisper, taking her sweet lips with mine.

This could be the last time I kiss her. I linger on that thought, unwilling to let the kiss break. Damn if I don’t need this woman.

“Are you going to tell me who has you in a bad mood yet?” Dayton pulls away, flicking her hair over her shoulder, and tugs her sports bra over her head. My cock twitches at the blue bra she slips on, more so when she adjusts her tits inside it.

“Someone from my past who delights in making my life incredibly hard.” I discard my shirt on the chair and take a freshly laundered one from the closet, sliding it over my shoulders. I button it up, focusing on them instead of her. I’m a fucking coward. “If there were a way to get out of this tonight, you can bet I’d find it.”

“Wow. I can’t imagine disliking someone that much.” Dayton steps into the dress and reaches behind her, struggling with the zipper. “Who is it?”

I step up to her and knock her hand away. With my fingers clasped around the zipper pull, I slide it upward smoothly and take a deep breath. I know this is it.

This could be the last time I get to brush my fingers against her skin, get to touch her, get to be anywhere fucking near her.

“Aaron?” she repeats, apprehension tingeing her tone.

I take a second deep breath and close my eyes resignedly. “The person organizing tonight is my wife.”

BOOK: His Call
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