SilkenSeduction (3 page)

On her back, she opened her legs and guided her automatic
friend downward—teasing her hard nipples, rolling slowly along her pliant
stomach, and then tickling the sensitive skin of her navel. The moment the
tremble of the tip entered the tiny orifice, her clit quivered as if the two
were connected by an invisible cord of electrical current.

Moisture coated her sex as a low moan escaped. Pure need led
the vibrator home. In and out she caressed herself, over and over, with the
pulsating battery-operated cock. With each pass, she came near but did not
touch her clit, causing the pressure within her to escalate. Her pulse rose and
her breathing became stilted and shallow.

Over the past month, she learned what turned her on, and
what it took to make her come. Envisioning Evan’s face, she imagined what it
might feel like to have him tickle her bud with that sensual soul patch. At the
same time, she gave in to her body’s demands and shifted the vibrator up the
slender slit to touch the center of her ache. Electrified energy burst through
her as the orgasm took control, halting her breath and releasing her inner
juices to coat her hand and her magical friend.

Temair rolled onto her stomach as the last wave of pressure
washed through her pelvic region. That had to be the best orgasm she’d ever
achieved alone. But she had to admit, Evan’s image helped. With a smile on her
face, she snuggled into the covers and wrapped her arms around her pillow,
leaving her little friend nestled between her lower lips, turned on low, and
still humming.

The light vibrations lulled her to sleep as a vision of
pure, male sex wrapped in a sensual, younger man package filled her dreams.

Chapter Three

Temair woke the next morning to the sound of the local radio
station blaring from her alarm clock. A lazy hand slapped at the snooze button
at the same time she pried her eyes open. Face buried in the pillow, remnants
of her dreams warmed her soul and made her insides tingle.

The sensation of something hard between her thighs made her
sit upright. Her vibrator lay on the bed, dead. Temair couldn’t help but laugh.
She’d finally managed to outlast the battery that claimed it never ran out. One
glance at the clock and she knew she needed to get moving. She promised to meet
Lisanne for breakfast before the trade show.

* * * * *

“Would you look at you,” Lisanne exclaimed as Temair walked
into the diner and over to the booth. “Told you red was a perfect color for a
power suit.”

“Thanks,” Temair said, setting the lockbox on the seat and
sliding it over as she positioned herself at the table across from Lisanne. “If
you only knew what I had to do to keep this skirt seamless.”

“No panties and sheer hose.” Lisanne’s raised-eyebrow look
and teasing tone caused Temair to blush slightly. The fact her friend guessed
didn’t shock her. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I have to admit it does,” she replied with a smile.
It wasn’t nearly as comforting as the snug leather felt on her bottom. But the
ultra-sheer pantyhose did cradle her skin in a more sensual, featherlight
caress.

“Okay, dish,” Lisanne stated on a laugh. “How’d it go
yesterday? Any luck?”

“I met buyers from two of the smaller distributors. But they
didn’t show much interest.” Temair nodded her thanks to the waitress as she
filled the coffee cup. “A representative from that new Zen line liked the
detailed use of gemstones in my designs, but didn’t say anything more than
that.”

While Lisanne placed her order, Temair debated discussing
the unusual interest she had in Evan then decided against it. That would be all
she needed right now, for her friend to push her into doing something she
wasn’t sure she was ready to do…pursue a younger man. Just the thought made her
sit up straighter in her seat as she gave the waitress her usual order of fresh
fruit, yogurt and whole wheat toast, dry, no butter.

“Meet any fascinating people?” Lisanne rattled on as she
flipped open the paper. “According to this article, over two thousand people
attended the first afternoon of the event, and triple that is anticipated for
today. It seems to be the biggest highlight of the town since fashion week.”

“I met a few,” Temair said as one in particular sprang to
mind. She sipped her coffee then continued. “The usual convention junkies were
there. You know the ones who browse and never buy.”

A low whistle filtered from behind the paper before Lisanne
spoke. “Remember that buyer we read about in the
Jewelers Reward
trade
paper who’s taking the UK by storm?”

Before Temair could answer, Lisanne continued as she flipped
and folded the paper in her hand. “Seems Deidre Delany’s planning to take him
by storm.”

When Lisanne handed the paper to her, folded neatly to the
article, Deidre’s smiling face couldn’t be missed as she stood with her arm
hooked in Evan Lyndsay’s in the black-and-white press photo. A knot formed in
Temair’s gut and her jaw tightened.

“It appears that way,” she managed to eke out through the
constriction in her throat.

Most press photos were not flattering, but his stood out.
Those soulful eyes caught and held her attention. What was he doing with
Deidre? Worst of all, why did she care? This wasn’t right. She rolled her eyes
upward as she took a deep breath.

She laid the paper on the table with the picture turned
down. It wasn’t Deidre’s presence so much as it was the deep, erotic lure of
his eyes. Just looking at them made her shift in her seat.

Get a grip
, her inner voice whispered. After taking a
gulp of her coffee, Temair forced her focus on her best friend’s morning
chatter. It took a great deal of effort to tamp down the envy knotted in her
chest against Deidre and her presence with Evan in that picture. This confused
her. Why did she care? He wasn’t hers.

Temair took a deep breath and forced herself to calm. It was
best if she didn’t think of him anymore. She turned their talk to the shop and
what the day’s total sales had been, to the weather, to anything other than the
trade show, Deidre and Evan Lyndsay.

* * * * *

Breakfast lasted a bit longer than she had meant, thus
making her have to hurry through the Javits Center to the location of the
pre-day panel. This was set up on the third floor and started at eight, before
the ten a.m. opening of the doors to the public. Several of the industry’s
biggest buyers were scheduled to appear. The agenda stated they would discuss
and take questions pertaining to what they were considering for their new
lines.

When she arrived, there was very little seating left with
the exception of one or two vacancies down front. Temair was grateful the
air-conditioning was working, otherwise she would have been a big sweat ball
walking down the center aisle in front of all the others to take a seat. A quick
glance around and she realized she was the only woman dressed in red. Was it a
mistake to dress so bright in a world of dark-colored suits?

Chin lifted, she caught the gaze of one of the panel members
seated at the table on the dais in the front of the room. It shouldn’t have
surprised her Evan had been added to the discussion forum. His company was
sought after by a vast majority of the jewelry designers at this event.

Focused on those eyes, she straightened and put on an air of
confidence she definitely didn’t feel, and walked as gracefully as possible on
her red, high-heeled mules to the chair at the end of the front row, against
the wall.

The soft whisper of the hose as she walked caught her
attention over the buzz of the chatter in the room. To her, each step was
deafening and she hoped no one else noticed. But someone else did.

She caught the subtle movement as his eyes left hers and
dropped to her feet to trail slowly back up to her face. His wicked smile and
heated gaze lasted for a split second before he slid the mask of
professionalism back into place.

Had she seen what she thought she saw? Did he just caress
her legs with his eyes? Curiosity-laced excitement coiled in her center and
sent tingly sensations to pool in her pussy. Every ounce of her knew what she’d
seen. That one look made her tighten her thighs against the shivers of her
inner muscles as she sat, crossing her legs at the ankles.

What kind of spell had he cast to make her body react in
such a fashion with just a simple look? Was she misreading the suggestions in
his eyes? She had been off the dating market for some time. Had the signs and
signals changed? Weren’t these things done with a text message these days, and
not through suggestive looks and touches? A quick glance at him and she hoped
not.

Each time she shifted position she noticed his subtle
glances her way. Temair turned at an angle in the seat in order to face the
panel at a better view, crossed her legs and watched his face. She saw him
glance at her legs, swallow hard then look up at the ceiling, as if issuing a
silent prayer, before deliberately focusing on the opposite end of the dais on
the pretense of listening to another speaker.

An uncontrollable smile tugged at her lips as the
realization of an unfamiliar power surfaced. The man liked legs. And from what
she saw when she entered, hers were one of the few visible pairs in the large
conference room. Thank god she’d visited the gym on a regular basis prior to
this convention. Her legs were in no means the best of shape, but they weren’t
the worst either. At the moment, it didn’t hurt they were sheathed in a pair of
soft, sheer hosiery.

With each stolen glance he passed her way, Temair felt more
empowered and her self-confidence rose. This was the longest hour of her life.
Teasing him had not been intentional when she entered the room. But it
increased the level of naughtiness running through her blood and urged her to
exhibit just a little more leg with each shift in her seat.

By the end of the panel discussion, she couldn’t repeat what
was said for the life of her. And hopefully, no one would ask what she’d
learned. It was no one else’s business. She’d discovered something that had her
insides twisted with excitement. She knew a secret about Evan Lyndsay, or at
least she hoped she did. If not, it had been fun on her part fantasizing that
his gaze was caressing her legs.

Temair took her time as she stood, straightened her skirt,
picked up her lockbox and turned to leave. The procession from the room was
slow, and due to her location at the front, she was one of the last in line to
leave.

A warm hand cupped her elbow and stopped her in her tracks
with a few whispered words, in a low, husky, accented voice. “May I have a word
with you?”

Instant heat simmered through her and landed in her pelvis,
making it difficult to walk and not wobble on those heels. Chills scurried
across every molecule of her flesh, and it was all she could do to muster
enough moisture in her mouth to reply as calmly as she could, “Of course.”

She stepped to the side and let others pass. A few moments
alone with him might take the edge off this frustrating, teenage-girl-like
crush she decided she had for this man. Maybe talking to him, getting to know
him would cool her libido down a degree or two.

Temair eased toward the dais, set her lockbox on it, turned
and leaned her bottom against the platform. Crossing her legs at the ankles,
she grasped the edge for support as she faced the object of her most intimate
dream. Her insides quaked. What did he have to say to her? What would she say
to him?

God, this was awkward. She nibbled the corner of her lower
lip. The air seemed to leave the room as he settled next to her. He left a
respectable gap between them. Close enough to inhale his scent and feel his
heat, but not close enough to touch.

“Ms. O’Hara.” His tongue darted across his lower lip. Temair
swallowed hard. Did he know what he was doing to her? “Your talents intrigue
me.”

Not sure if she did it out of nervousness or just the desire
to test her theory, she inched up onto the dais, got comfortable and crossed
her legs, letting the red leather, high-heeled mule dangle from her foot. She
heard the subtle hitch in his breath, and caught the not-too-subtle stare at
her foot, as if the tiny bounce of her shoe was the most fascinating show in
town.

The smile that graced her lips couldn’t be stopped even if
she wanted to. Raw power sizzled through her veins and for a moment, she was in
control. As soft and sexy as she could make her voice sound, she asked, “My
talents, Mr. Lyndsay?”

“Among other things,” he added as he met her gaze.

The predatory look he gave her sent lightning bolts straight
to her pussy, but she refused to let him see the way he shook her up inside.
Instead, she sat straight with her eyes leveled on his and accepted his
unspoken challenge. If he wanted to play, then so could she. What harm would it
do to tease a man—a younger man at that?

“Other things?” she asked in the most provocative tone she
could manage and still breathe, while looking into those mind-boggling eyes.
Temair leaned forward, accentuating the full curve of her breasts and achieved
a small victory. His gaze immediately dropped to her cleavage as she continued.
“Are you interested in seeing my…” she paused for effect before stating on a husky
breath, “designs?”

His eyes seemed to darken with desire as they lifted to meet
hers and she damn near melted on the spot. She was playing with fire and wasn’t
sure if she could handle it. There wasn’t one quivering ounce of her that
intended to let him know of her insecurities. She liked this game. Never had
she been so turned-on without even being touched. His eyes extended a promise
she hoped desperately he would keep.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement by the
doorway at the far end of the conference room. Temair straightened at the same
moment Evan slid back into business mode. His hooded gaze shifted to normal,
but not before one last quick perusal of her legs from toe to the apex of her
thighs. She swallowed hard when his cool stare captured hers with a secret heat
that made her tremble inwardly, all the way to her painted toenails.