Sweet Obsession (Men of Whiskey Row Book 1) (4 page)

“Get rid of her. No one gets in without an appointment, especially today with this circus affair going on,” Jack said tersely.

“Very good, sir. I will let Ms. Kramer know that you are unavailable and will attempt to schedule her at a later date. I do apologize-” Margo started only to be interrupted mid-sentence.

“Kramer? As in Noelle Kramer?” Jack interrupted sharply. “Noelle Kramer is here? In my conference room?” At Margo’s quick nod, he quickly moved around his desk and headed for the door. At the doorway, Jack turned back to his bemused secretary. “This takes precedence over that other thing now. Hold all my calls and meetings today until further notice. You and Eli need to partner up on the Miss World Beauty thing until I’m done with my meeting with Ms. Kramer.”

Noelle Kramer was in his place of business
, Jack thought as he hurried to the conference room. Anticipation rushed through him at the thought of seeing the young beauty. He paused outside the conference room door and watched through the window as she paced up and down the room like a sleek panther. Once again he marveled at her loveliness, pleasure sweeping through him as he watched her unobserved. Usually he had to make sure his gaze on her didn’t linger too long; lest he draw attention to himself. His attraction was just as intense as it had been the first time he laid eyes on her at her twenty-first birthday party four years ago. The night his life changed forever.

***

Four Years ago….

It was an extravagant affair with all the who's who of New York in attendance. Normally Jack didn't go for pretentious crap like this, but decided to make an exception because it was business. So, he donned a black tux and showed up. Within ten minutes, he'd known that his being there was a mistake. Anxious to get away from the snobbery of the mega wealthy assholes around him, Jack slipped into the family library. Only after he settled into a leather club chair in the corner shrouded in darkness did he give a sigh of relief. He would stay another thirty minutes out of courtesy to the family and then make his getaway.

Although Jack knew the Kramer’s well, the birthday girl was somewhat of a mystery. Apparently Noelle had been attending school in Paris, and her return happened to coincide with her twenty-first birthday. Her mother, never one to miss an opportunity, used the event as a way to reintroduce her into elite society. Jack had just pulled out his phone to check emails when the door quickly opened and then slammed shut again.

Jack couldn’t see anything in the darkness, but he could hear the sound of heavy breathing. Judging from the sounds, it was a woman. He smelled her before he saw her. A scent of something flowery seduced his nostrils. Then the lamp closest to the door was turned on, and he forgot to breathe as he took in the alluring vision before him.

She was leaning against the closed door. Jack estimated her to be about five feet eight inches tall with skin the color of brown sugar. Her hair was in a sleek bun pulled away from her finely-sculpted face to showcase her perfect forehead. Dark slashing eyebrows slanted over large eyes that were narrowed as if in concentration. Later he would discover that they were a dark gray, the same color the sky turned before a storm in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Her nose was short and cute, her cheekbones sharp enough to cut butter. She would have been mainstream pretty if it wasn't for her lips. Oh yes, that lush mouth was a game changer. Her red-glossed lips were a true gift from the gods and looked pillow soft. They made Angelina Jolie's lips look like straight lines. Jack turned hard as stone as he imagined having their fullness wrapped around his cock while he pumped in and out of them. Jesus.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She muttered in a soft but frustrated voice as she rubbed her temples with both hands. In a burst of energy, she started to pace in front of the door, and Jack took the opportunity to admire her slender but curvy body encased in a strapless, frothy, lavender concoction that swirled and whirled around her as she paced. Her shoulders gleamed like satin, and he ached to push her bodice down and fill his palms with her breasts. Jack forced himself to pay attention to her one-sided conversation.

“Why did I let her talk me into coming back? I should have just stayed where I was and no one would have missed me,” she moaned, waving her hands around. “Fuck!! Come on Noelle. Girl, you can do this! Get it together. It’s just for one night then you can take off.” A quick glance at her gold watch made her gasp. “Late again! Mother is going to kill me!!  But first…”

Jack watched in amusement as he listened to her pep talk. Then his mouth went dry as she dipped her hand between the succulent mounds of her breasts. Let me do that for you sweetheart, he thought to himself, growing harder by the second. His trousers were painfully tight. Christ, he really needed to adjust himself, surprised that he was this hard for a beautiful stranger. Unfortunately, any movement would give away his hiding spot and bring attention to him. To his surprise, she pulled a small bottle of liquor out of her bosom.

“Good thing I took this off of the plane,” she murmured in delight before unscrewing the lid and downing the tiny bottle’s contents in one gulp.

“Here goes nothing.” She set the empty bottle on the console, adjusted her bodice then slipped out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Jack quickly stood up, groaning in agony as he adjusted himself. So that was the birthday girl, he mused, walking to the door. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out to read the text.

Running late! You must be bored to tears. Have you started planning your exit strategy yet? If so, shall I catch up with you later then?

Jack reached the door and picked up the empty bottle. Her perfume lingered in the air, seducing him further. Tequila. She had downed the fiery liquid without flinching. A sense of admiration filled him. She was beautiful, entertaining, and could drink hard liquor like it was water. He replied to the text.

Change of plans, I’m staying.

***

That was four years ago, and Jack was no closer to Noelle now than he’d been the first time he laid eyes on her; though it wasn’t for lack of trying on his part. Whenever she saw him, Noelle would smile politely, murmur a quick hello, and then disappear. Jack couldn’t really say that he blamed her. Being the youngest in a family such as hers, she stuck out like a sore thumb. She had two older siblings. Her brother Darren was a surgeon married to a Boston socialite, and her sister Sloane was married to a famous Greek playwright and owned a successful art gallery in Soho. Between both siblings, there were five grandchildren. Noelle had changed her college major three times with no definitive graduation date in sight.

It was definitely a bone of contention between Noelle and her parents, Senator Ronald Kramer and his old money, socialite wife Alicia Kramer. They felt she wasn’t utilizing her life’s potential and never hesitated to point it out to her how accomplished her siblings were; which in turn made her siblings give her lectures during family gatherings. These always made Jack think of the Festivus episode on Seinfeld.

Jack, from his end of the dinner table, willed her to tell them to fuck off, but she never did. Noelle just sat there in her pretty Kate Spade or Ann Taylor outfits, with a polite smile on her tension-filled face. In the end, he would excuse himself for fear that he would suggest one of his firm’s oldest clients eat a fat dick and chase it down with a tall glass of shut the fuck up.

The few times that Jack did see Noelle relaxed were when he entered the house through the kitchen. Noelle would be happily conversing in French with their chef and assisting with meal preparation that is, until she’d catch sight of him. It made his stomach turn when he’d see the anxiety in her eyes, bringing back dark memories of his Ma trying to anticipate Patrick Sullivan’s next unpleasant move. So Jack would simply nod in acknowledgement and keep it moving.

During dinner Noelle would steal looks at him when the family complimented a particular dish. Jack started to observe her reactions and realized the dishes she worked on would always be the recipient of rave reviews from her unknowing family. Amidst the lavish compliments bestowed on the chef, he would raise an eyebrow at her as they heaped praise on the red faced little bastard and her big, gray eyes silently begged him to keep her secret; so he did.

Finally, unable to take any more of her parents’ stifling attitude, Noelle relocated to Park Slope in Brooklyn four months ago. Grinning to himself, Jack thought of what Alicia Kramer would say if she could see her youngest child right now.

Gone was the sleek bun and Stepford Wife attire that made Noelle a clone of her mother and sister. In her place was a bohemian goddess. Her hair was a riotous mass of black curls. No makeup touched her flawless brown skin except the clear gloss on her sexy mouth. Her long, flowy dress was a vivid cobalt blue with large orange and white flowers splashed all over. It had spaghetti straps, and the deep v neckline exposed her sexy cleavage. Numerous gold bangles adorned each sleek arm. Her skin gleamed like silk, and Jack wanted to reach out and feel if it was as soft as it looked.

Lust rolled through Jack like a freight train. He mentally pictured himself bending Noelle over the table and lifting the lower layers of her dress to sink into her from behind, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts and hold her in place.  Christ, he needed to get a grip, but it really couldn’t be helped. His dick just knew what it wanted, and it loved it some Noelle Kramer. Jack had been with many women, but none had ever affected him the way she did which was scary considering they’d never even kissed. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

Noelle whirled around to face him; the long skirt of her dress opening, allowing him an admiring view of long, toned legs before he raised his gaze to find himself drowning in her luminous gray eyes. Her sexy lips parted in a nervous smile before she spoke in her soft modulated voice. “Hi, Jack. Sorry to drop in on you like this, but I have an issue;” Noelle murmured nervously, raking a well-manicured hand through her long curls; and taking a deep breath, she continued, “Something I believe only you can help me with.”

Chapter Three

Noelle was being blackmailed. There were nude pictures of her.
With another man
. Noelle Kramer had been photographed in the nude with her ex-boyfriend Remy Dumont. The asshole was threatening to let the pictures go viral; knowing the damage it could do to her family name. In exchange for his silence, Remy wanted Noelle to marry him so that he could become a U.S. citizen— or give him three million dollars. She had a week before he would take action.

A slow rage filled Jack’s body as he tried to listen to Noelle’s nervous explanation.
Another man had dared to touch what he considered to be his
; he thought furiously, watching her luscious lips form the words that he was having a hard time processing. Had seen the body he obsessed about. Jack, tapping his pen against the table, tried to appear calm and unaffected as he shifted in his chair.
Tap. Tap. Tap. How he wished it was a knife gauging the son of a bitch’s eyeballs. Remy Dumont; what a pussy name,
he thought scornfully.

“I haven’t seen Remy in four and a half years. Our relationship kind of ran its course by the time I left to come home. I thought we parted as friends,” Noelle explained warily. Jack realized she was watching his right hand make stabbing motions with the pen he was holding.
RELAX. Wooosaaaa. Focus, Sullivan,
he told himself. It wasn’t about him anymore. Noelle was now his client, and as such, needed him to be at his best whether she liked it or not.

“I need to ask you some questions,” Jack said coolly before placing a note pad in front of him to take notes. He looked at her for consent, and she nodded her head to let him know it was okay to proceed.

“What’s his full name and age?”

“Remy Alain Dumont. He’s twenty-five, just like me.”

“How did you meet?” 

“Hemmingway’s, a bar close to the university.”

“How long did the relationship last?”

“
On and off? Three and a half years. We kept breaking up because he thought getting high on whatever drugs he could find was more important than getting his education.”

“Before last week, when was the last time you spoke to him?’

“Two weeks before I left Paris.”