Purr Scent I: The Meeting (Purr Billionaire BDSM Trio, #1)

The Meeting

Jacintha Topaz

First Digital Edition, April 28, 2014

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

T
his book contains content that is
not suitable
for readers 17 and under.

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for
your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be reproduced, uploaded to share on websites, emailed, or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author, Jacintha Topaz, at
[email protected]
, or within the sharing guidelines at a legitimate library or bookseller. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction, sharing, or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (See
http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/
for more information about intellectual property rights.)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons—living or dead—or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. All characters in this book are reproductions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

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Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Author's Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

About the Author

Also by Jacintha Topaz

T
his book is dedicated to fellow self-published erotic romance authors who paved the way for me. Here goes my penny toss into the wish pond to gauge how many folks go for M/F/F Menage. :-)

T
hank you to Shoshanna Evers'
Successful Self-Publishing: How We Do It (And How You Can Too)
. Appreciation also goes to Kallypso Masters'
Rescue Me
series, the first set of erotic romance books I ever read. (No, it was not
Fifty Shades
!) Thank you to Jade Onyx for hosting my first blog post. Thank you to the readers I may hear from and that I may one day meet.

T
his novella is part of a planned five-part series. If you like what you're reading, drop me a line and I'll be sure to write more!

S
itting across the boardroom in utter perfection was Dream God. No other word sufficed to describe that delectable man. Even sitting at such a distance with their executive teams flanked on both sides of the table, the man exuded ruthless sex and raw power that sent a chill down her spine.

The highlight of that morning, of the day, the whole quarter, was that she would see him again. Like clock work, their companies met four times a year to discuss business. After their first contract, she had looked forward to the next and the next and the next...

God, what would it be like to be beneath him? She'd never find out, because she just wasn't that kind of girl. Business was business. Personal was personal. While she liked fucking, she didn't like getting fucked. Mixing the two—business and personal—was a plain invitation to getting fucked. No, thank you. She'd rather just date her vibrator. She'd have a good fucking and no mess—just her mess—to clean up afterward.

Yes, she and her vibrator would have a nice long date tonight. She shifted in her seat.

“What do you think, Ms. Olsen?” The deep baritone voice of Dream God cut into her reverie.

No, not Dream God! Clark...Clark Mannings. Business only.

Caught daydreaming across the boardroom, Mariah blinked at the object of her reverie and saw the broad shoulders of the red-hot sexy self-made man in a navy tailored three-piece suit. With black hair long enough to frame him as a pirate or a rogue in another time and place, Mariah shuddered at the thought of being this man's enemy . . . or
captive
. She fought a blush from creeping across her face.

Right now, even sitting at the head of the table across from him, she didn't feel any more safe—or any less wet—than she would have felt sitting next to him. Didn't even matter that their executive teams were in the same room. As potentially partnering CEOs again, the command he held, the presence he had, the air he snuffed out of the room just by breathing and being—all of that and more said a lot. A lot of what she did not need right now at the moment.

His penetrating gaze almost unmanned her. Or unwomanned her. Or whatever.

Mariah's fleeting glance at the magnificent view of the Seattle skyline steeled her courage and she sat as erect as the Space Needle. No way would she ask the man to repeat the question. Nor would she back down. She braved a schooled smile and spoke in what she hoped was a crisp and calm manner. “That shall be all for today, Mr. Mannings. My team will review these details and get back to you about the proposition.”

At the dismissal, their executive teams exited.

She'd never sent him away empty-handed, without verbal agreement or a signed contract. She'd probably have to pay for this later, but she'd rather keep her hand. She needed both of her hands for her hot date tonight.

How did the air get even stuffier with less people? Perhaps because there was only one occupant left besides her, the occupant that mattered.

Mariah didn't need to look up to know that Clark was still in the room. She adjusted her taupe pencil skirt as she stood up and slowly collected her things to retreat to her office. As if even his presence wasn't enough, he guarded the exit like a bulldog ready to tear anyone apart who dared pass.

“What game are you playing, Ms. Olsen?” he hissed at her ear. His warm breath sent a tingle down her spine and her senses went on full alert. So what if the man was edible?

Survival instinct took over.
Show no weakness.

“Mr. Mannings, I believe you have overstayed your welcome.” She shot him a prim smile and proceeded to pass him.

He grabbed her arm, stilling her resolve to leave him behind. “I've watched you negotiate for two years now. Where. Did. You. Go?”

Taken aback by his admission and the succeeding demand, Mariah pulled in a sharp intake of air. “Mr. Mannings, you must let go before I call security.” She glared at him and directed her gaze to the offending hand. He may be a frequent visitor in her erotic fantasies, but he was not welcome in real life. Good girls turned CEOs had to remain pinnacles of upright standing all the more in a male-dominated world intent on cut-throat competition.

“As you wish, Ms. Olsen.” He dropped his hold and let her pass, muttering, “This isn't over.”

Every hair at the back of her neck stood on end as she carefully made her way to her office. Lunch couldn't have come sooner.

***

C
lark eyed Mariah's retreating figure. Her champagne blond hair shifted ever so slightly at the sashay of her hips. He had seen how her tits pebbled under that white blouse, even smelled her faint arousal when he leaned in to speak to her. He would have mentioned it, too, to keep her on edge, but that little comment about security regarding harassment meant she might have trumped that up to sexual harassment.

That little minx.

He had already invested too much for her to escape like this without any promise of a future meeting. This meeting was supposed to grant him a legitimate reason to build a plant here and expand his operations with the full support of his executive team. To wait another quarter would actually cost them money in expanding their markets overseas. The timing was right and made fiscal sense.

He eyed the sway of her hips and determined to make her sway towards sealing the deal.

Although his headquarters was in Texas and his initial sights were to hire the unemployed in the economically depressed parts of Michigan after the auto industry hightailed, he had slowly acquired more factories and had been planning for a plant closer to Seattle to be in her vicinity on a more frequent basis. More people in his team saw the value of expanding northwest. He won them over without arousing unnecessary suspicion, and now she was getting away and leaving him nothing.

Fuck. Those legs.
He couldn't peel his eyes away from her shapely form.

Ever since she splashed into the food science industry as the newest and youngest CEO voted in by her board, Clark had been following her career. Not only was she the youngest CEO in her company at the time, she was also the youngest in the
science
industry. Didn't even have her degree in marketing or business either—just English.

Mariah's knack for branding and social media rebranded the flailing FoodCOM or some other scientific bleh of a company name into the illustrious hip new name and face of Heartisan Foods. Her efforts produced desired results, tangible financial peaks, and her present indisputably earned title. She knew her stuff, too, and she
had
to know—if she did her homework, and he knew she did—that
part
of what he delivered was the best in the food service packaging industry.

The
other
part of what he offered he could prove next. That sexy vixen had brains and he wanted to be the one to fuck them out.

No matter what she said to him up front, those furtive glances she thought he didn't notice during their past meetings told him of another story—one that made him the champ and her the prize. This game of cat and mouse needed to stop today, and he knew just the way.

His eyes narrowed as he noted the office to which Mariah disappeared.
You can walk away, but you can't hide.

Quickly, he withdrew his cell and called in.

“Heartisan Foods. Charlotte speaking. How may I help you?” The high-pitch voice earned a one-inch buffer from his ear.

“This is Mr. Mannings from Mannings Industries. Ms. Olsen mentioned I can stop by after lunch and to call you about her availability.”

He heard the flipping of paper and tapping of a keyboard before an answer. “Her next appointment is at three until end of day, sir.”

“Thank you, Charlotte.”

“Would you like me to schedule you in?”

“No, thank you. I need to go over some details with my team over lunch before confirming a time block.” He thanked her again before cutting the call.

As he plotted his next move, his lips curved in a slow wicked way.

***

“M
s. Olsen, Mr. Mannings is here to see you,” came Charlotte's shrill voice via intercom.

The lunch Mariah just had did little to keep her stomach from flip-flopping. Clark wasn't the kind of man anyone denied, even if he had no follow-up appointment in her calendar. Gulping, she hoped she didn't regret what she was about to say. “Thank you, Charlotte. You can send him in.”

Within seconds, the door to her austere cream-colored office opened. As quietly as he opened the door, Clark also closed it with a definitive click. Did he just lock her in? He sounded like a predator on the prowl, and she was the prey. How did he turn the tables like that, when this was her office, her company, her building?

Show no fear.
Her mother's firm voice entered her head. No way would the daughter of Annika Alisha Olsen back down in the face of any man.

As Clark's imposing frame neared her blond wood desk, without looking up from her paperwork, Mariah asked in a dismissive manner, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” In the years she sat at this desk, this was the first time she wished she had a mahogany desk or any dark-toned desk that did not reflect the fluorescent overhead light. The light tones around her, including her white blouse, made her acutely aware of her cheeks and their potential for betrayal.

He set his briefcase down in the seat across from her, yet made no move to sit.

Glancing up from her seat of power to meet his eyes, her heart skipped a beat at his darkening gaze. The rascal. He purposefully situated himself so that she
had
to look up at him. In her own building. The arrogant ass. She gulped back a groan. Why did she have to think of his ass, the feel of him thrusting into her and giving her all manner of pleasure? Not very helpful at the moment.

“You know I offer the best in food grade packaging.” He leaned in, his hands perched on her desk. “Hands down.”

A shudder wracked her form as he straightened up and circled to her side of the desk. What was he doing walking around her desk like that? How dare he exert such blatant yet manipulative authority? She stood up to him, incensed at such audacity. “You need to lea—”

“I said—”

He whipped her around, planting her face smack down against the desk. Before she caught her breath, she heard the sickening sound of cold metal securing her wrists behind her back.
Fuck!