Sweet Seduction Sabotage (4 page)

Wasn't he?

He pulled me slowly from behind the table and then wrapped my arm up in his to guide me from the bar. We came out into the brighter atrium of Sky City Casino, pausing for a few tourists to pass. I had no idea where he would take me. He'd never taken me home to his bed before. Would he break that rule now? I'd never wanted him to. Had that changed?

Or would he simply book us into the hotel attached to the Tower, offer to shag me behind the slot machines, drag me to the lifts and hit the emergency stop button halfway between floors?

"Ever played Roulette?" he asked, from out of nowhere.

"Ah, no. Blackjack, Poker. Anything with cards." That you could strip to, I didn't add. The evening had taken on a surreal quality. I was well out of my normal depth.

"Roulette's a game of chance, Kelly," he said, leading me towards the entrance to the Casino itself. "Take a gamble on life. Press forward and see what pops up."

In any other circumstances I would have considered those words a come-on. But Drew wasn't looking at me, he was searching for an available place beside one of several big spinning Roulette Wheels, concentration, not flirtation, marring his commanding façade.

A sense of burgeoning excitement filled me, somehow dulling the ache of just moments before. The Sky City Casino is a bright and frantic place, full of colours and lights, noise and laughter. The clink of plastic chips, the rattle of dollar coins spilling out of a One Arm Bandit machine. House calls and croupier catch phrases making for a heady mix of anticipation and fun.

I slid into the seat Drew offered, feeling his hand linger on the back of my neck before he sat himself down. Handing over a credit card to the croupier, he passed me two large predominantly yellow plastic chips he'd received in exchange. A picture of One Tree Hill was on the centre and small lettering bordered the edge, that let me know they were worth a whopping great
one thousand dollars
a piece.

I stared at the chips, feeling Drew's heated gaze.

"All at once, Kelly? Or are you a dip your toe in first, to see if it's warm, kind of girl?"

My eyes came up to his, a sparkle of mischief glinted in amongst the grey.

"Take a chance, Kelly. What's the worst that can happen?"

"We lose two thousand dollars of your hard earned cash?"

He shrugged elegantly clad shoulders and leaned forward to whisper against my ear, the first truly provocative move he'd made since I'd laid eyes on him tonight.

"I think you're worth it, Ms Quayle."

I pulled back and frowned at him. What, just two grand? Those bloody beautiful lips tipped up at the edges again.

"Well, if that's what you think," I said, turning back to the Roulette Wheel and reaching across the red felt covered table, placing both chips on the first number that sprang to mind.

"Black twenty-eight?" Drew asked. "Why?"

His arm draped around my shoulder, his breath tickled my ear. He gave the appearance of not giving a toss I'd just placed two thousand dollars onto one single number, making odds of winning any money at all pretty damn slim.

"Black suits my mood," I admitted. "And I'm twenty-eight years old."

There was a long, silent pause before he answered.

"I know how old you are," he whispered as the croupier called for last bets. "But black you are not."

"Should I have chosen red?" I asked automatically.

"For fire. For passion. For the way you live your life."

"Well, there's the problem," I murmured, as the wheel began to spin in a rainbow of red, black, brown and gold colours, the glint of green swishing past every now and then. "I'm not sure I want to be red anymore."

The last was said under my breath and I was certain he hadn't heard it.

The wheel slowed, the sound of the little ball jumping from slot to slot rang out. Everyone held their breath, except Drew. His was hot against my skin at the side of my neck, his index finger slowly running circles above my knee.

The marble stopped on a red number. The croupier called out, "Red. Sixteen." A few moans, a couple of chuckles, but not one hoot of a winner's excited joy to be heard. I watched stunned as the hooked croupier stick hauled the yellow disks back towards the house pile.

Two thousand dollars gone. Just like that.

I turned to look at Drew prepared to apologise for losing all his money. A ridiculous thought to have. He'd insisted we play this stupid game and given me those bloody yellow chips. It was all his fault.

But the breath and words were stuck in my throat when my eyes found his.

Grey, the colour of doves' feathers. And a hunger that clawed at my soul.

"Roulette didn't do it," he declared, voice low. "Time for plan B."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Plan B?"

"I'm taking a chance, Kelly. All in. Odds aren't particularly in my favour right now, I think. But I have to know."

Know what?

He pulled me up from the table, with a curt nod at the croupier before we left, and hustled me off the casino floor. His arm wrapped around my waist, his steps quick but smooth.

"What do you need to know, Drew?" I asked, scurrying to keep up.

"Hmm?" he said distractedly, leading the way across the atrium floor, heading towards the Tower elevators. "What did you say?"

He was doing this on purpose. He knew exactly what I'd said. I dug my heels in, bringing us to a halt a few feet from a private elevator, being held open patiently by a uniformed man.

"Drew!"

"Kelly," he replied with a smirk.

"What do you have to know?"

He flicked a glance at the uniformed elevator guy who nodded and slipped back inside the lift, still holding the door open. I was getting the feeling Drew had planned this. Probably while he sat watching me mope, alone at that table in the Red Hummingbird Bar.

He stepped closer, his eyes holding mine prisoner where I stood. His arms snaked around my waist and he leaned in, lips hovering above my mouth. I could feel his breath; warm and inviting. I could sense his body; hot and enticing. I could smell his cologne; exotic and alluring.

"I need to know if you're still in there," he whispered and I jerked.

This was more intense than Drew ever got. More intimate than sex. This was peeling back the layers and he'd never attempted that before. All from watching me at that table, after Matt had left.

"Wh..what?" I stammered.

"Ever joined the mile high club?" he murmured softly.

"The.. what?"

"Can't arrange a flight plan at such short notice, but I can take you up the Sky Tower and watch you fly." Huh. "It's over three hundred metres to the tip, a couple of hundred to where we can go, that's no where near a mile high, but it's as close as I can get you tonight."

Ah, mile high club. I stared at him, at a loss for words. But a familiar feeling was stirring inside. A stomach curling, butterfly flapping, excited and anticipated sensation deep, down inside.

"The three hundred metre high club?" I clarified and he chuckled.

"Doesn't sound as good. But I promise it'll feel just as high." He watched me for a moment, then cocked his head and said, "Will she do it? Or is there no more red left?"

Was there? I may have cut off one of my guys tonight and had plans to cull the rest. I may have wanted to seriously re-evaluate my lifestyle and try to figure a few things out in my head. But could I turn down a challenge, walk away from a situation that made me feel..
alive
?

"Why are you doing this?" I asked instead.

He blinked, straightened himself up from the lean he'd had towards my lips and offered that crooked smile.

"Do you really need to know?" he finally said.

Black Kelly would analyse, would dissect and disassemble.

Red Kelly would take the chance, dive in and enjoy life.

Could I embrace black so completely that I wouldn't allow red anywhere in my life anymore?

I looked into Drew's beautiful grey eyes and decided I'd done enough rebuilding tonight. I'd take it one step at a time. Tonight was Matt. Tomorrow might be Dan.

Right in this moment was Drew, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

Enough!

I took a step towards the elevator and still opened door.

Drew followed silently behind.

The ride up took forever. We had an escort; the elevator guy studiously keeping his eyes on the overhead numbers flashing on a digital screen as they indicated how high we were going. How fast we were ascending. He didn't look at us, he pretended he wasn't even there.

But he was, and Drew and I stood on opposite sides of the elevator as it whizzed up the Sky Tower heading for - what was it? - a couple of hundred metres high. My stomach dropped away, and it wasn't entirely to do with a change in altitude. Drew had something planned, and knowing him, it would involve an audience, or the prospect of one.

He knew how to push my buttons, from the very first day we were intimate, he'd worked me out. I'm not sure if it's because he's observant, or just that I am an open book when it comes to such things. Everyone thinks they know Kelly Quayle. They don't realise I show them what I want them to see.

I hide all the rest.

Deep, deep, deep.

But Drew, he'd always been the best at reaching inside and finding a kernel of the truth. I wondered if that was his speciality. In court addressing the opposition in a case. Could he read them with just one look, like he did me?

The first time I met him was in Sweet Seduction. He'd come in with Dominic, who at the time was interested in Gen. They'd sat and had coffees, Dom's eyes never leaving Genevieve's. Drew's on mine. No one noticed, Gen and Dominic's rapid romance stole everyone's interest, that was for sure. But when he left, and walked past the counter I was standing behind, those grey eyes met mine. They looked inside me, somehow stripped me bare, and he offered the first I'd seen of that crooked smirk.

We hadn't said a word to each other, but when I found him next at Dominic's, while Gen was recouping from a serious injury, he followed me from the bustling lounge where everyone had congregated to cheer up my girl.

The first actual words - although our eyes had said a hell of a lot by then - out of his mouth were, "I'm going to fuck you against the wall. Right here. Ten feet away from everyone else."

How had he known? Twenty minutes watching me in the store. Five minutes staring at me at Dominic's house. And the first words out of his mouth were those?

Needless to say I let him. There was something primal and hungry in his tone, in his gaze. That completely matched mine. His kisses along the back of my neck were tender, caring even. His touch, heated and sure, against the skin of my arms were caresses, feather-light and gentle. He placed my hands on the wall beneath some artwork I couldn't even focus on, spread my feet with one of his highly polished shoes, then slipped a determined hand up the inside of my naked thigh.

I'd worn a skirt, and underwear which didn't seem to hinder him at all. He simply pushed the thong aside, slid his finger through my already wet folds, while he bit down purposefully on my exposed shoulder.

My heart thundered inside my chest as he removed a condom from his trouser pocket. The crinkle of the wrapper making my breath escalate and become uneven. His hand gripped my hip, pulling my groin away from the wall, arching my back. And then I felt him. There. At my entrance, straining to thrust inside.

I moaned, his free hand immediately covered my lips, while his other at my hip jerked me back onto his cock.

We didn't say another word while he fucked me against the wall, not more than ten feet away from our laughing and talking friends. The hallway was one that went to the main downstairs bathroom. Anyone could have approached at any time.

I had never been so turned on before in my entire life. I had never been taken so possessively, yet so stealthily, in such a public way.

Drew broke me that day for any other man. My current four guys at the time seemed tame afterwards.

We both came violently, but remarkably quietly. His mouth sealing mine with a twist of my head as he consumed me from over my shoulder. When he withdrew, he did it almost reluctantly. His hands brushing reassuring strokes over my sensitised skin. He paused, both of us still panting, then laid one soft kiss against the nape of my neck.

Then he left. Simply walked back into the lounge as though nothing had happened.

It had been hot. Illicit. So fucking raunchy that we did it again the very next time we met.

And haven't stopped since.

Maybe it's become an addiction, a habit we can't seem to break. I have never been in his presence since and not wanted to fuck him. I think it's the same for him when he sees me.

It was dangerous and I wasn't entirely sure if it was sane. But it was fan-fucking-tastic, and
alive
.

The lift slowed as my eyes found Drew's across the small space. Grey staring steadily, unblinkingly at me. He'd been watching the entire time I'd reminisced. Did he know I'd just relived every detail from our first encounter? From the first time I'd had sex and lived outside of that dark, black hole inside. Did he know he'd brought me back to life?

The lift came to a soft halt, barely perceptible. The doors chimed when they opened and the elevator guy stepped out, keeping one hand on the button to make sure they didn't close on us again. Drew and I just stared at each other, his lips offering that one sided grin.

He took a step, eyes still holding mine, and then reached for my hand, slipping his fingers between each of mine. Then he pulled me from my memories and out into a deserted space. The elevator guy nodded his head to Drew, then stepped toward the lift again.

"You've got an hour before security will do a check," he said, the first words he'd spoken since we'd met.

"That will be long enough," Drew replied, with a returning nod of his head.

With that, the elevator doors swished closed and left me alone with Drew. And no audience.

I glanced around the open space, recognising parts of it, but also noting the changes. We were on one of the viewing platforms, at the top of the Tower, beneath the revolving restaurant itself. Large expanses of glass jutted out around the wedge shaped space we were in. Closed off on each side with white particle board. I could hear people behind it, awed by the view over Auckland city at night. They were obviously redecorating this part of the platform for some unknown reason, making this little area a private haven in a place that was normally teaming with tourists.

"No audience," I said, unable to stop the observation coming out of my mouth.

"They will hear you," he replied, watching me from where he stood, several feet away. "And there is still the chance we will be seen."

I flicked another gaze around the room, then up into the rafters. Having had Anscombe Securities & Investigations place cameras at my work, I was well aware of all the hidden spots security could be watching from.

"Not the cameras," Drew said in a low voice.

I lifted my eyes to his. If not the cameras - and we were cut off from the rest of the viewing platform - then what?

He started walking over toward the floor to ceiling height windows, which sat at an angle upward and away from where we stood. So you could just lean out and look down on the city street some two hundred odd metres below.

Ah, the windows. Was he going to fuck me against one of them?

He stopped half a metre away from a pane of glass, hands in trouser pockets, grey eyes on mine.

"Come here," he instructed, his voice a purr of sound.

I flicked my eyes to the angled windows, wondering how he was going to do this, but hoping he did it soon. I was already a little breathless, moisture pooling between my legs. It didn't take long when in his presence, but something about tonight had a sense of urgency to it. To grasp one last
moment outside of that bleak place in my head, before I walked away forever. I knew I'd have to. If I had any hope of not repeating last night, I needed to seriously start all over again. Reassess who I was, who I wanted to be.

The problem was, I just didn't fucking know anymore.

I walked slowly, offering a sway of my hips, a small smirk of my own on my lips. I watched his eyelids lower, his mouth part, his cock get hard in his pants. It stretched the fine material, growing longer and heavier with every step towards him I took. His chest was rising and falling too quickly as well. He always seemed so in control of these moments, yet inside I was betting he was wild, lost, about to combust... just like me.

I watched his face as I came closer. Drew was not a classically handsome man, although the five o'clock shadow that graced his jaw did improve the vision nicely. His chin, though, was a little too pointy, his nose too long and narrow. But those eyes. Fuck. Those eyes were made in heaven. Or in hell. Designed to trap you, and never fucking let go.

I would miss those eyes, I realised. Making me come to a halt a foot too far away. He let a slow breath of air out, and then tipped his head down to the floor.

I followed his gaze and got the another shock for the night. He was standing on a glass segment of the floor. Cars the size of Tonka toys, people the size of ants, scurried below. The lights of Federal Street just small specks in the distance so fucking far below.

I stood there stunned as my mind caught up with the vision and with his earlier words.
And there is still the chance we will be seen.
They'd have to be looking straight up and using binoculars to see, but the notion made me laugh. A small amused sound escaped my lips and then Drew tapped the toe of his Italian leather shoe on the glass. It sounded hollow. It looked freaking fragile.

My head sprang up and my eyes met his.

"On your knees," he ordered, my heart no longer thundering inside my chest, but about to escape through my ribcage.

"Is that solid?"

"One point five inches thick."

That didn't sound nearly enough. He jumped, making me jump and embarrassingly squeak out loud. His head tilted as he studied my reaction. It didn't escape my notice that his cock grew even larger inside his pants.

"Red or black, Kelly?" he said, eyes still searching my face for a reaction.

Red or black? I didn't know. Everything was so fucked up. I was losing myself, and it had been a long, long time since I felt this unsure. I didn't like it. I hated these old hurtful feelings. But he was here. He was offering me a chance to feel alive again. He was giving me a lifeline and he didn't even know.

Red or black?

I lowered myself to my knees before him, the feel of the smooth glass beneath them making me sweat.

"We'll start this the easy way," he declared, stepping closer. We were both being completely held aloft by one and half inches of fucking glass. "Undo my pants, pull me out. Don't look down."

Don't look down. I almost smirked at that. Everyone looks down when they're told not to. I refused to fall for his game, but reached up with a steady hand, my eyes on his, undid his trousers and pulled his rock hard length out.

Oh, God to have him in my hand again. To feel that heated, smooth flesh over a steel rod. My mouth salivated, I licked my lips. He made a sound, a typical Drew controlled and muted sound.

One day I would make him scream. One day we wouldn't be on the other side of a thin sheet of particle board, or just out of sight down an abandoned hall, where everyone could hear our every noise.

Holy crap, where had that come from?

I blinked, his fingers came up and stroked my cheek, bringing me back to him, his cock in my hand, the hunger that still lingered deep within me.

"Cover me and suck," he said softly, almost a request. Not his usual demand.

One more lick of my lips as I took the condom he held out and lovingly rolled it down his length. Then I closed my eyes leaning forward to wrap my mouth around his flat head. My body sprang to life at the first sensation of him under my tongue. I craved his taste, even though I did not know it. Not here, at any rate. His scent, though, wrapped around me, mixed with that expensive cologne he always wore and the fruity smell of the flavoured condom. Sweet, salty, addictive. That's what Drew Kline is to me. He is my drug and he knows it.

He makes the memories vanish, just here and now count. Just him and me.

His hands came up to cup my head, his fingers entwining in my blonde strands. He likes my hair, he always finds a moment when he can touch it, wrap a strip around his fingers, bury his nose in amongst the curls. It's his Achilles heel, his one weak spot. If Drew's grey eyes are mine, my blonde curls are his.

He groaned, thrust his hips forward slowly, revelled in the feel of my mouth encasing his shaft. He sank himself inside, again and again. His breaths grew laboured, his movements more jerky, his little quiet sounds more desperate in the still air of the space we were in. I could feel Auckland just beyond the window. I knew it lay just below my knees. So close, yet so far away.

I licked, I sucked, I squeezed with my fingers and stroked with my hands. I put everything into making him feel, into making him lose a moment of time. In me. With me. Making it impossible for him to forget me when I was finally gone.

"Enough," he rasped, pulling back, but I wouldn't let him.

He'd had that one first night where he had full control, he has never been completely in charge ever since. I pushed against his hips, making him take a step back, he lost his balance what with his trousers still wrapped around his ankles, and reached out a hand to the window behind him to steady himself. I lifted my eyes to his, let him know my intention, watched his widen slightly, a breath get sucked in... and then he allowed himself to be directed, pressed back until his body lay flush against the glass. Still standing upright, but now hanging over the edge of a two hundred metre drop.