Invitation to Seduction: Open Invitation, Book 1 (6 page)

* * * * *

His cell phone chirped. Stephen punched the button.

“She’s going tonight,” Stacy said.

He should have told her it didn’t matter to him or that he didn’t want to talk about it. He was past the point of caring what Stacy was up to. “How do you know?”

“She broke a nail and stopped by after work to fix it.”

“Maybe she just wanted her nail fixed.”

“Not Debbie. She’s frugal. She comes in every three weeks when she should do every two, and she waits until her appointment to have something fixed. Which is next week. But tonight, she needs her nail fixed. And I know that husband of hers sure as hell doesn’t have anything big planned.”

Her manicurist would understand the subtle nuances. Friday night. No work the next day. It had taken almost two weeks for Debbie to make her decision, and he’d died a million times. She hadn’t even answered his emails for days, and he’d lusted after a word from her. Christ, he had it bad.

“Talk to you later” was all he said to Stacy.

“Treat her right.”

He would treat her like the goddess she was.

* * * * *

Stacy put the phone down and blew on her nails. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Mission accomplished. A little nudge here, a little shove there. She was so very good at getting people to do what they really wanted.

* * * * *

Debbie stayed in the bathroom for hours. Her hair would not do what Stacy had done to it that Friday two weeks ago. In frustration, she simply ruffled it up with her fingers. Perfect.

Stephen had emailed her a couple of times, and she still felt guilty that she hadn’t replied. But damn it, she’d felt as if something would slip through in her words. She’d somehow reveal the things she planned to do tonight, and she didn’t want to contemplate how his opinion of her would change.

Funny, insane even, she was more worried about Stephen’s opinion than she was of her husband’s. But her mind was made up. Her body had readied itself. She couldn’t turn back now for anything.

She replaced her usual light makeup with darker shades and deeper tones. Lining her lips, she stood back for the effect. Pretty damn good. The black bra showed beneath her filmy, see-through blouse. She wasn’t used to revealing her underwear, but they’d done it on
Sex and the City
all the time. The short, pleated skirt had been part of a Halloween costume a couple of years ago. She’d attended a party as a cheerleader. Tonight she left the matching panties on the hanger.

The stilettos? Well, every woman had a pair in the back of the closet. Last Friday, she’d borrowed a pair of Stacy’s. She hadn’t worn hers in...forever.

Looking in the full-length mirror on the door, she decided she liked her efforts. Slutty and schoolgirlish all at the same time. She left the blouse untucked and unbuttoned to the center of her breasts. When she moved, the darkened aureoles of her nipples displayed themselves above the lacy bra.

With one last look, she clicked off the bathroom light and went in search of her husband. She found him in the den, the remote in one hand as he flicked through the on-screen guide.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be home. So don’t wait up.”

“Okay. Have fun.” He looked up. He could have asked her right then not to go. Instead, all he said was “You look nice.”

She looked a lot of things. Nice wasn’t one of them. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive carefully.” It was the last thing he said as she walked out the door.

She had the invitation. She had her lipstick, her license, and a few dollars. Condoms awaited her at the club, candy jars filled with them. Yes, she would drive her mystery man very carefully. Drive him insane.

* * * * *

Stephen scented her before he saw her. She was hotter than he remembered, than he could have imagined. Her honeyed arousal filled the air like exotic perfume. Gone was the hesitancy, the deer-in-the-headlights look. Her fingers didn’t tremble as she handed over the invitation, nor as she took a champagne glass from an offered tray.

Debbie was home in her bed. Desiree had come out to play.

He watched her through the throng. Lips the shade of deep red wine, she sipped the sparkling libation, looking over the crowd as if searching. He hovered by a back wall, in shadow. She turned, the light outlining her sweet, tight nipples, the gauzy, transparent material of her blouse hiding nothing.

A walking advertisement for fucking, the clothing she’d chosen attracted several pairs of eyes, male and female. Her gaze flowed right over them. She wasn’t here for them. His cock hardened. She would look but not touch, not until she found
him
.

Her backside swayed gently, a hint of creamy flesh showing, as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. An image formed in his mind of his fingers trailing the crease of her buttocks straight to her pussy. He knew he’d find her already wet. Pulling away from the wall, he followed her.

He could have tracked her scent, but all he had to do was trail the turn of heads. A man squeezed his partner’s breast, his gaze glued to Desiree’s bare thighs. The animals were out tonight, and they all recognized a tasty morsel.

She stayed a moment at the edge of a doorway, then another, moving to the end of the hall. Starting back along the other side, she stopped, searched, and came closer to him. Gliding in those high heels, she raised a hand to stroke the line of her throat, then the upper swell of breast just inside her blouse.

So unconsciously sexy, he was sure she had no idea the effect that slow caress had on him, on the men, on women not averse to same-sex pleasures. He melted into an alcove as she approached then passed by. Dragging in a breath, her light scent tickling the back of his throat, he leaned against the paneling. His body couldn’t take much more of her inadvertent teasing.

Pulling himself together, he stepped out once more. She was at the other end of the hall, making her turn like a runway model. A guy put his hand out, not quite touching, a question in his upturned palm. She sidestepped, shaking her head.

Stephen backed off and headed down the stairs. He knew where she’d go next. He’d be waiting for her. And she’d be his.

At least for tonight.

Chapter Five

Sex perfumed the air, hot, sweaty, musky. The walls seemed to ooze with the scent of come. The darkness hid the peak of her nipples and the flush heating her skin. Strobe lights flashed at the far end of the performance hall, beckoning. She knew he was here, had felt his eyes on her even as she’d searched for him. He wanted to fuck her. He’d wanted to the other night, but he’d watched instead, like a hunter stalking his prey. Tonight she’d let him do it. Oh God, yes.

Moisture coated her bare thighs. She’d ditched her bra and panties in the car. All she wore now was the short skirt, her see-through blouse, and heels that screamed
Fuck me
.

She headed down the hall, following the beat of the strobe, ignoring the doorways on either side of her. The focal point of the large room she entered was the stage outfitted with a bed and three performers. The spectacle had barely begun, the woman still dressed and the two men stripped to their pants. With each flash of the strobe, the actress lost an article of clothing, first the red blouse, then the black skirt. All that remained were wisps of lace at her breasts and thighs. One of the men leaned into her, his lips to her left breast, his fingers to the other. Another flash revealed the second man between her thighs.

Debbie stood in the back, behind the low rail that encircled the room. It created a wide aisle for people to move about or to stand and watch, both the stage and the acts on the mattresses strewn about the floor. Full and ready, she clasped the brass rail, her grip almost painful. She struggled to catch her breath as Man Number Two put his mouth to the woman’s mound and sucked. She couldn’t see the finer movements of his tongue, but she felt them deep inside as if he were licking
her
clitoris.

Her previous trip, she’d come for the titillation, the kinky excitement. Tonight was altogether different. Stronger. More powerful. This time she knew she would have him.

The obsession had begun, taken hold of her like a fist tight around her innards. She didn’t care at all about the man that lay asleep and snoring at home in his bed. Her bed.

She smelled him before he touched her. A light spicy tang, barely there. His scent tantalized her, reminded her of that last time, his soft caress between her thighs. The promise. He knew she’d be back for that. She’d returned for so much more.

She concentrated on the threesome. The two males turned the woman, brought her to her hands and knees, her mouth milking one cock, her pussy sucking in the other. The man rammed home, muscles flexing with each thrust.

Her pussy contracted. She squeezed her thighs together, intensifying the pressure on her clitoris.

A hand slid beneath her skirt,
his
hand along her inner thigh. With a fingertip, he traced her center, barely dipping into her folds. She almost came. He cupped her, then ran his hands over her hips, her butt. He trailed two fingers up the crease between her cheeks, then down to the joining of her thighs. Lips against her hair, he whispered, “Open up.”

She did, spreading her legs for him. She thought he’d enter her with his fingers, but he gathered cream and skimmed forward to her clitoris. Circling, he caressed her. She looked down at her hands on the rail, her knuckles white, black, white, black in the throb of light. She moaned, joining the other voices. Cries of pleasure pounded against her ears, and the incessant stroke of his finger on her clit brought her to the edge of madness.

“I’m going to fuck you now. I can’t wait. Bend over.”

He pushed at the top of her spine. She shoved her ass at him, begging without words. God, she wanted this, needed it.

After a brief moment as he donned a condom, the tip of his cock breached her vagina, and she shoved back, taking him. Pain shot through her body. She was wet, but tight and unused to a man inside her. Putting a hand to her hip, he started a rhythm that eradicated the ache. And he never let up on her clit.

She fought to keep her eyes open, needing to absorb the sexual feeding frenzy on the floor, on the stage, the rawness of fucking, and the feel of his hard cock deep inside her.

Faster, his cock, his fingers, her breath, her racing heart. She climbed, lost sight of the room and all sense of time as he pounded her. Someone was screaming, and the strobe hammered against her closed eyelids. Fire swept through her, from her nipples to her clitoris to uncharted territory at the center of her womb. Then it consumed her, as if she’d shot straight into the flames of a burning sun.

He was still inside her when she came back to herself, his cock pulsing. His ragged breath sawed in her ear. He held her flush against his body, trapping her to him with an arm beneath her breasts, the other across her abdomen. Held her as if he couldn’t let her go.

Then he whispered to her, “I want to bury my face in your pussy. I want to make you come until you think you’re going to die. I want to fall asleep with my cock inside you.”

* * * * *

She felt right in his arms. His cock still throbbed deep inside her. She smelled so damn good as he buried his face in her hair. Fruity. Something citrus. He pushed aside her hair and kissed her neck.

“Let’s get out of here,” Stephen whispered. He didn’t want to share anymore. He wanted her to see him, to talk to him. When he took her again, he wanted no one else’s eyes on them.

Her body tensed against his. “No. I have to go home.”

Not yet, God, not yet.
“It’s early.” He rotated his hips lightly against her backside, then pushed deep, needing to remind her that he was still inside her. His balls tightened; his cock hardened. She moaned and dug her fingernails into his arm beneath her breasts. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

She leaned her head back on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. “I’ll stay. For a little while.”

He pulled out and zipped himself one-handed. Shit, he had to get rid of the condom. How the hell could he keep her with him? The moment he let go, she’d bolt.

Smoothing her skirt down over her sweet ass, he turned her, then took her hand. “Come on.”

He pushed through the mass of bodies, holding her securely in his grip. Their clasped hands felt so goddamn right. The light in the lobby almost blinded him as he shouldered open the double doors.

Setting her in a corner, he rubbed her arms. “I’ll only be a minute.” He wanted to beg but commanded instead. “Don’t go.”

Lip gloss glistened on her mouth. He had yet to take those lips, to taste her. Bending his head, he cupped her face in his palms. Touching his lips to hers, he licked the seam, urging her without words to open to him. She parted, stroking his tongue with hers. Her champagne taste sizzled between them.

“Stay right here,” he murmured once more, holding her gaze with his, waiting for her promise, demanding it.

“All right.”

He left her with a last glance over his shoulder, his heart in his eyes, if she chose to look, and a lump in his throat.

* * * * *

Now would be the time to escape. But she wouldn’t leave.

Her lips still tingled with his kiss. The sheer fabric of her blouse tantalized her nipples. She needed his touch on them. She wanted more. More kisses, his tongue in her mouth, his arms around her, his cock inside her, and his come filling her.

She needed to hear him whisper all those beautiful things to her over and over.
I want to fall asleep with my cock inside you.
She needed so much more of the sensations.

She closed her eyes and sagged against the wall. She craved the zest of his semen in her mouth, the feel of his cock between her lips, his hands in her hair, a groan torn from his throat. And those words that wrapped around her frozen heart.

“Hey, you look a little lost over here all by yourself.”