One Night in A Bar (5 page)

Daniel slid his hand down her body and between her legs and stroked through the wet heat, circling around her clit as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth. Her pussy clenched, cream sliding over his fingers, and a moan was torn from deep inside her.

Daniel laved his tongue over her nipple, soothing the tender skin, and planted soft kisses down her stomach, his goatee brushing against her sensitive skin like butterfly wings. He lifted his head and briefly met her gaze, then glided his hand over her thigh, under her knee, and lifted, turned. She moved with him, bending her knee, opening herself to him.

He looked down, smiled, looked back at her and licked his lips.

First his breath wafted over her sensitised nerve endings. His beard tickled her inner thighs. Her entire body throbbed with anticipation as he hovered.

His mouth descended that last little bit, and her eyes rolled back. His tongue, hot, wet, laved over her clit. The throbbing increased.

He traced his fingers up the inside of her thigh, slid through thick cream, tickled at her entrance. He abandoned her sweet spot, instead licking down, up, lingering as if she were top-quality ice cream and he had a sweet tooth. Her cunt clenched.

Shakily sucking air into her lungs, she expelled it on a low moan. She lifted her hands, stroked them over her breasts, tormented her nipples, as his tongue and lips and fingers tortured her pussy.

She bucked her hips as Daniel slid his long, clever fingers inside, and her pussy clamped down on him as she pinched her nipples, pulling in a desperate bid for release.

She heard a keening sound, was distantly aware that it came from her, then Daniel grazed his teeth over her clit and she skyrocketed out of control. Her cunt contracted wildly as cream spilled over his hand.

* * * *

Karen was still coming down from orgasm when Daniel slid his cock into her. She was so slick that he was able to enter her almost without trouble. Still, her sensitised nerve endings twanged, and her inner walls constricted around him.

“Ummm.”

The rumbling sound thrilled her, and she deliberately tightened her muscles. This time his moan was strangled, and he surged up into her, balancing his weight on his forearms.

His gaze met hers, dark eyes hot and wild.

“I can’t be gentle.” Gravel and whisky rolled over her, and in response her pussy contracted again. His eyes rolled back, and he thrust, hard.

She gasped, tilting her pelvis to give him better access. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He rocked forward, the powerful movement of his hips driving his dick hard, abrading swollen tissue. Her inner muscles forgot their fatigue as her clit began to pulse again. The hair on his chest rasped against her over-responsive breasts. Her cunt pulsed, clenched, throbbed, and she screamed as he pumped into her, over and over, until she went over the edge again.

* * * *

There was no drifting back to reality this time. The ache between her legs and her throbbing, puffy nipples brought her to awareness long before her mind was ready.

She opened her eyes as Daniel withdrew from her. The slick slide, though not exactly painful, reminded her that he’d made her come three times that afternoon, and her tissues were swollen to prove it.

“You okay?”

She met his gaze and nodded. “A bit sore.”

“Why don’t you have a shower?” He gestured at the bathroom. “I’m starving. Take your time. I’ll fix us something to eat.”

She looked away, embarrassed, as he disposed of the condom and pulled on his pants. He whistled as he left the studio, and it was only then that she became aware she was still sprawled on the table. Naked.

Karen scrambled to her feet, wincing as her muscles protested. Half hobbling, she retreated to the bathroom and turned the shower on hot. As steam filled the room, she stared at herself in the mirror.

The same mirror she’d been looking into while Daniel had teased her breasts until she’d thought she’d lose her mind.

Tearing herself away, she stepped into the shower and tipped her face up to the purifying spray.

What had she done?

She’d had sex with a client. Three times. Well, no, not really. He’d made her come three times. Three really good, great, amazing times.

Focus, Karen!

Everything she’d said to him about maintaining a professional relationship was now voided by her stupid actions. How could she work with him now?

Her heart twanged as she imagined giving up the amazing opportunity to work with one of the world’s great artists. Maybe she could convince him to put things back on a professional playing field?

Resolute, she reached for the soap. Step one—no more intimate moments.

* * * *

She made her way down the hall, listening for him.

“Daniel?”

“In the kitchen.”

Following the sound of his voice, she found him in a tidy kitchen, arranging sliced carrots on a plate.

“Hey, there.” He smiled at her, and she smiled uncomfortably back. She was acutely aware that her blouse was crumpled, and without hair products she’d been unable to restore order to her unruly curls. He, on the other hand, had clearly found another bathroom to wash up in. He looked fresh and sexy, hair damp and hard body wrapped in a terrycloth robe.

“Are you hungry? It’s just finger food—cheese and crackers, veggies, chips—but I thought we could eat on the balcony.”

“Uh,” Karen straightened her spine. “No, thanks. I think I’m going to head back to the office.” She looked at her watch, saw it was nearly seven. “Uh, I mean, home.”

His dark gaze bored into her, and she played with the clasp on her watch, wishing she could look away, could say something flip, anything to defuse the moment.

“I see.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Well, hold off on that for a few minutes more. I’ve had some ideas for those last three exhibit pieces that I want to run past you.”

Damn.

She battled between her fascination for his work and the desperate urge to flee. Smiling weakly, she gave in and grabbed the plate of cheese, following him out on to the balcony.

The incredible view struck her again, this time with dusk fading into night and lights twinkling across the city.

“Amazing, isn’t it? This is my favourite time of day. I don’t usually work without natural light, so this is when I can kick back.” His voice twined around her with the warm night breeze, and she drew in a deep breath before joining him at the café-style table.

“Eat.”

She wavered for a moment, but her stomach was protesting, so she reached for a carrot stick. The light from the living room spilled out through the windows, illuminating the table and casting pools of shadow closer to the railing.

Despite herself, tension began to ease.

“So,” Daniel swallowed his mouthful of cheese. “I’ve decided the last three pieces are going to be nudes. I put together some sketches while you were in the shower.” He reached out and picked up a sketchpad that she hadn’t even noticed. Flipping it open, he handed it to her.

She looked at the first drawing and gasped.

It was easy to see, even from a sketch, why Crogan was world renowned. The agony and ecstasy of the statue washed over her, and for a moment she could only gape at it.

Chips crunched between Daniel’s teeth, and brought her back to the table.

“That’s me!”

He nodded.

She looked again at the sketch. A woman, her face indistinguishable, leant back against the torso of a man. Her head lolled against his shoulder, but her back arched as she forced her breasts firmly into his hands. Her nipples peeked from between his fingers.

Breath hitching, she flipped to the next page. The same woman lay spread with abandon. Legs open, one knee bent, her back once again arched as she played with her own breasts.

The next sketch was just as erotic. This time the woman was drowsily still, sated. One leg was still bent, but with the hip turned out, so her ankle was tucked under the opposite knee. Her head had rolled to the side, and her arms lay at rest.

She swallowed. They would be amazing. With the features blurred as they were, nobody would ever know she’d inspired them. And they would make the show an incredible success.

“They’re wonderful.” She handed the pad back to Daniel. “If you can get them finished in time, I suggest we make them the centre point of the show.”

“I agree.” His dark eyes were focused on her, and she shifted uncomfortably. With the evidence of their afternoon together right there in his hand, it was hard to be purely professional.

“Excellent.” She reached for another carrot stick.

“So you don’t mind that we’ll be working on Saturday instead of going out?”

Her hand froze halfway to her mouth. “Excuse me?”

“The pieces are quite complicated, especially the horizontal ones. I need to get started immediately.”

The knot in her stomach loosened. “Of course. It’s fine if we cancel Saturday. Just keep me posted with how things progress.”

His teeth were a slash of white above his goatee as he smiled. “I think you misunderstand, Karen. You’ll be here on Saturday. I need you to model the pieces for me while I work.”

The carrot fell from nerveless fingers.

“Wh…what?”

“You’ll need to model for me.”

She shook her head almost before he’d finished speaking. “No. No, that’s not going to happen. No.”

“Oh, yes.” He grabbed a carrot stick and crunched it loudly between his teeth.

“No! It would be completely unprofessional.” Her hands twisted together.

“Actually, it would be completely professional. I need to do these last three sculptures for the exhibit. You’re my agent. As my agent, it’s in your best interest to help me prepare for the exhibit.”

She opened her mouth then closed it. Crap. “Why do you need a model anyway? You have the sketches.” She cringed at the petulant note in her voice.

He shrugged, the light from the living room playing over his shoulders. “Sketches are flat. I work in three-D. I’m more comfortable working with live models—dimensions, contours, texture.” He cut into the wheel of Bbrie and spread some on a cracker. “Have some of this, it’s really good.”

“No. Thanks.” Karen sucked air into her lungs. Professional. “I really don’t think modelling nude is one of the things that can be expected of me as your agent. However, I will organise for a professional model to work with you.” Satisfied with her solution, she smiled.

Daniel smiled back. He really was extraordinarily attractive. “No.”

It took a moment to sink in. “What?”

He shook his head. “No professional model. You are going to model for me. You inspired the concept. It won’t work with anyone else.”

“Daniel, you’re being unreasonable.”

“What it comes down to,” he continued, ignoring her, “is that, as my agent, you are obligated to assist me in preparing for my exhibit.” She opened her mouth and he held up a hand. “If you would prefer not to fulfil your obligations, I can certainly call John and request a different agent.”

Her mouth snapped closed. That phone call would destroy her career. Even if Daniel told John it was down to a personality thing—which she didn’t think he would, the bastard—she’d still be the agent who was rejected by Crogan. She’d never get a really stellar-class client again.

He was watching her, that dark gaze focused intently on her face.

“That’s blackmail.”

He kept silent.

“Fine.”

Chapter Five

She gave her address to the cab driver and managed to hold out for almost two minutes before she dug out her cell phone.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Four rings. Five.

“H’lo?”

“Were you asleep? This early? Never mind, wake up. We need to talk.”

“Karen?” Mandy sounded more alert. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember when we went out that night? After I lost my job? And I…” She glanced at the driver, who appeared to be listening. “I picked up that guy?”

“I remember.”

“Well, he’s my new client. And I—we—uh—talked about the same things today that we talked about that night.” Damn the cab driver to hell.

Mandy was quiet for so long Karen began to fear they’d been cut off.

“Do you want to come over?”

“Thank you. Thank you. I’m on my way.”

Daniel stood on the balcony and watched the cab drive off down the street.

Man, was she pissed off at him. Not that he could blame her—being blackmailed into posing nude was not something that made most women happy.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his robe, he wandered back into the apartment. He wasn’t sorry. He’d been thinking about her since she’d disappeared on him all those weeks ago. Nobody at the bar had known who she was, and, with no other way to track her down, he’d had to let it go.

But now she’d been practically dropped in his lap—his dick hardened, imagining her in his lap, naked and writhing—and there was no way in hell he was letting her get away again. Despite her ridiculous obsession with professionalism.

He picked up the sketchbook and looked at the three sketches he’d done while she’d slept, laid out in sexual abandon, on the table in his studio.

No, this time he was hanging on to her. But maybe he’d cut her a break and be a bit more subtle.

* * * *

“God, I don’t know what to do.” Karen put her head down on the table next to her coffee cup.

“Well,” Mandy said, “to start with, you can sit up like an adult.”

She jerked upright and glared at her best friend. “You’re not helpful.”

Mandy shrugged. Even dragged out of bed and wearing a ratty robe, she looked more put together than Karen felt. “All I’m saying is that moping isn’t going to help. Although, to be completely honest, I’m not really sure what the problem is. If I understand what you’ve told me, this guy is incredibly hot, famously talented, wealthy, into you, has already proven capable of giving you amazing multiple orgasms, and is determined to base a work of art on you. Where’s the issue?”