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Authors: Lucia Jordan

The Prospect

BOOK: The Prospect
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Copyright
©
2012 by Lucia Jordan

This book is a work of fiction.
The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as
real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or
organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved

 

No part of this book may be
reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written
permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in
critical articles and reviews.

 

Chapter
One

They
were so many of them that night, and they all seemed to want a piece of her.
The club was trendy, and was usually just her kind of scene. But Wendy felt
like none of the male prospects seemed appealing.

Oh, she
may have danced with them, even flirted. But one by one, they waned in her
estimation. Something always happened to make her get ticked – or turned,
off. Something was missing.

And
then there he was.

Dark,
arresting.
He was watching her with penetrating eyes
and she liked his look on sight. Smart casual,
clean shaven
,
refined.
Just her type.

He
started to make his way to where she stood with a couple of her friends. Sally,
a very impish blonde, cooed in appreciation as she watched him head their way.
“Please tell me that hotness is coming for me.”

“Keep
dreaming, honey,” Bea, who was of Indian descent, muttered as she pasted a
come-on smile on her lips for the advancing male figure. “You can bet he’s
mine.”

“You’re
both dreaming,” Wendy said with a good-natured huff, as she tossed her silky
auburn hair over her shoulder. “He knows what he wants. And that’s me.”

Before
either of her friends could reply, he was right before them. In moments, he’d
charmed all three. “My name’s Alan,” he said after he’d ordered another round
of drinks for the ladies.

“I
know,” Wendy said, surprising him. He lifted a brow in her direction. “You’re
Alan Pearce, and you run that footwear company, Kickstars. I’m a design
consultant; I’ve worked with your people once or twice. We’ve never really come
in contact, but the minute you came over, I recalled where I’d seen your face
before.”

“I knew
there was a connection,” he said with a humorous smile, and Wendy could
virtually see both her friends go limp in defeat as they realize she’d been
right: it was Wendy he wanted. He took her hand now, the move confident,
possessive. “Dance with me?”

Heck
yes. “Of course,” she said quite primly, throwing a look over her shoulder at
her friends that was more a victory glance.

Okay,
so here she was in this swanky club dancing with a hunky millionaire. He moved
great which was a plus, but Wendy sort of knew how she really wanted things to
go.

First
off, it was that time of the month where she was in the mood to fuck anything
that moved. Well, not really, but she was hot tonight. Hot for him. Every other
guy she’d met beforehand had left her cold. But the second he’d wrapped his
hand around her wrist and pulled her away to dance, she’d wished he
was
throwing her over his shoulder and out the exit.

He drew
her close. The music demanded it; it was a slow number. Very stirring music,
coupled with the fact that she already found the atmosphere between them
getting charged.

Wendy
wrapped her arms around his neck as she felt his arms slip around her waist. It
was a tight squeeze in the club so she didn’t really mind getting up close and
personal with Mr. Dark and Mysterious. Well, that’s what the press called him.
She’d seen his face enough times in the papers to know his reputation with
women was just as well covered as his success in his field.

“You
feel good,” he told her, breaking into her thoughts. She squirmed at the feel
of his lips against her ear lobe. They were
cheek to cheek
,
chest to chest. Groin to groin. She felt that
tell-tale
hardness between them and couldn’t help smiling.
Hmm, jackpot.

“I feel
starstruck,” she returned, softly chuckling. “I don’t get to dance with
handsome millionaires every day. Or is it billionaire?”

“Does
it matter?”

She
drew back slightly to look into his eyes. “No, it doesn’t,” she said firmly. It
truly didn’t. She’d wanted him even before she realized who he really was. The
sense of power, of command he exuded effortlessly, had nothing to do with his
bank balance, Wendy felt.

“Good,”
he said in a calm tone. “Because when if I take you home with me tonight, there’s
only one thing I want you to focus on. Not my money, not my so-called fame. Is
that ok with you, Miss Wendy King?”

She
started in surprise, much by his thrilling words but more by the fact that he
knew her name.

He
smiled. “You’re not the only one with a good memory for faces. I remembered you
quite well, Miss King. True, we never officially met, but I think I’ve always
known who you were. I always make it my business to keep abreast with the
promising young talent in the industry, and you stood out for me. That’s why I
made sure my team picked your firm to handle that project.”

“Wow.
Small world,” she hushed, eyes shining with pleasure at his compliments. “It’s
great to know we aren’t just strangers in the crowd. Though technically, we
still are.”

“Technically,”
he agreed, his own eyes gleaming with equal humor as he held her gaze.
“Strangers to lovers…that isn’t such a bad prospect, is it?”

“No,”
she said slowly, her heart pounding with expectation.
His
place or hers?
She thought of the apartment she shared with her younger
sister, and then balked. Maybe his…

“There’s
just one more thing, Miss King,” he said, trailing his finger down her cheek.

Now
what? He has a girlfriend? He lives with his mother and couldn’t take her home?
Wendy was thinking of the most improbable things that could make spending the
night with him impossible.

“I have
certain…tastes,” he told her softly. That finger was now slipping down her
throat, to hook into the thin gold necklace around her neck. She drew in air as
he tugged, causing the chain to bite slightly into her skin. “The things I want
to do to you and with you…your Sunday school teacher would not approve.”

Wendy
couldn’t help laughing, and he smiled, looking pleased at the sound. “It’ll
take more than that to scare me off, Mr. Pearce,” she assured him at last,
looking up at him, grabbing hold of him tighter.

“Great.
So I guess once we get to my place, and when I break out the bondage gear,
you’re not going to freak out?” he asked conversationally as he twisted, round
and round the tiny chain in his finger till it was tight around her throat,
giving a very erotic impression of choking.

“Do I
look like the type to freak out?” she asked, her tone equally light. She was
looking straight into his blazing eyes. Could he tell how tightly her pussy was
clenching right then?
Maybe not.
It was all she could
do to hold in the drops seeping past her secret folds.

“No,”
he told her, unwinding and releasing the neck chain. “That’s why I picked you.”

Once
again, Wendy giggled. All of a sudden, she became aware of her surroundings
again. The music, the people, had all faded to the background in the past few
minutes.

“And
there I was thinking it was my beauty and grace that drew you,” she joked,
letting him take her hand and lead her off the dance floor, heading straight
for the exit.

“Those
too,” he returned. “And yet something tells me you’re a woman of many sides,
Wendy.
Sweet, yet spicy.
I can’t wait to find out if
I’m right.”

 

Chapter
Two

Truth
be told, Wendy wanted to find out the same thing herself. She wasn’t sure how
serious he’d been about the “bondage gear” remark. She’d got into some rough
sex in the past with her former lovers, but never anything extreme. Just what
was Alan into and how much was she willing to explore?

Keep an
open mind, she told herself, as she stepped out of his sleek Audi. She gave him
a bright smile as once again, he took her hand and led her inside his palatial
home.

She
already knew
who
he was, and that he was loaded. He
owned a massively popular footwear brand, after all. She knew his rag to riches
story, how he’d managed to make a success of himself despite having an abusive
father and growing up without a dollar to his name. He was an inspiration to
many, and though he tried to live away from the limelight, he still managed to
get in the news for more than just his work.

His
women, for example.
Gorgeous
music video vixens, top models, actresses.
He’d had them all. Suddenly,
Wendy couldn’t help wondering how come she’d managed to snare such a catch.

She wasn’t
bad on the eye, certainly. She paid attention to her body, and looked good for
her mid-twenties. She had respectable tits, not too large but firm. Her ass,
she knew, would be considered her best feature, so her exes had told her.
Round, firm, bouncy.
Much like her breasts but in a slightly
larger proportion.
Something told her Alan wasn’t going to be too sorry
about that.

He
didn’t waste much time.
He offered her a drink
,
she declined
. She needed her wits about her, she decided.
She wanted to enjoy every minute without a cloud of alcohol hazing out the
episode.

“Come
with me,” he said quietly. He linked his fingers with her, a very intimate and
somehow calming gesture. She followed him eagerly.

He
weaved through corridors to a door, which he then opened. Wendy looked inside,
and saw that it was a bedroom, just not like any bedroom she had ever seen
before. There was a big bed with iron posts, but not much else. There was some
kind of dresser next to it with a drawer, and there was a large ornate mirror
just over the bed.

She
advanced into the room as he shut the door behind him. Turning around to face
him, she swallowed. He came forward, placed his hands on her shoulders, and
kissed her.

It was
a nice touch. The kiss was warm, passionate,
sexy
. All
at once it put her at her ease to have this first physical contact with him. It
also made her hornier than ever.

When he
pulled back, she was ready to melt in a puddle at his feet. She settled for
waiting for his next move.

“You’re
going to obey my every command, without hesitation,” he said softly, backing
away. “If you agree and understand, say “Yes Sir.””

“Yes,
Sir,” Wendy said immediately. Any other guy and she’d be rolling her eyes. But
with him, in this room, it felt…right.

“And
you’ll address me as “Sir” as long as we remain in here. Can you remember to do
that?”

She
started to nod, but then said firmly, “Yes Sir.”

He
smiled, approvingly and warmly. But then the smile disappeared and his face
took on a somewhat predatory cast. She could feel his need for her from across
the space between them. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, maybe even
more. The thought made her inner muscles quiver.

“Now,
take off your clothes, slowly. I like a good strip tease.”

Wendy
gulped. The gleam in his eye as she reached for the straps of her dress was
enough to make her feel like her clothes were on fire. Just with him watching
her every move, she got wet. Seeing his gaze darken as she let the dress slip
off her to the
floor,
had her almost panting.
Stripping for him made her feel so sexy, desirable. She didn’t rush, reaching
round her to unhook her
bra which
she shouldered off.
He gazed at her breasts and instantly, her nipples hardened and twinged of
their own accord.

BOOK: The Prospect
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