Vanilla On Top (2 page)

I smile at his expression, pleased I’ve made an impression. He seemed to like when I told him what to do. I wonder how far I can take this with him willing to follow. I slide from my chair, now glad I wore a pencil skirt that emphasizes my butt, and walk out of the room without a backward glance, hoping he takes the bait.

My black stiletto heels rap against the marble tile of the bistro as I swish my hips toward the narrow door leading to the closed outside seating in the rear of the restaurant. I push the door open and step through. The metal door whisks shut behind me. It’s early spring and unseasonably warm outside tonight, but still too early for the bistro to have the area set up for receiving diners.

My heart races as I lean against the cool brick. What the hell am I doing, trying a stunt like this in a public place? Will he come out here? If he does, what do I do then? Anyone could walk out here, and by the full ashtray on a stack of tables, the probability of it being a smoker is high.

Ten minutes. All you need is ten minutes.

Can I talk my way through this? Well, why the hell not? If he follows me out here then I’ve definitely intrigued him enough to learn more about me. But how do I set myself apart from the countless women who’ve probably already thrown themselves at him?

The door creaks open and Tony steps out.
You can do this, Heather. Take command. Tell him what you want. Tell him what to do, just like he said he wants.
Now or never.

I smirk with a confidence I’m not completely feeling. “Nice of you to join me, Tony.” I relax against the brick and check him over from head to foot, making sure he knows with just my eyes exactly how desirable I find him.
You can do this, don’t panic. He won’t laugh at you.

I nod toward the stacked chairs. “Take off your coat.” He slips the expensive garment from his shoulders, pulling the starched fabric of his shirt across his defined chest. I nod my approval and his eyes glint with desire in the dimming light.

He smiles, seemingly eager to play whatever game I’ve got in mind. “Anything else?”

I push down my inner anxiety and grin, in what I hope is a teasing manner. “Your tie.”

His eyebrows shoot up, but he loosens the knot and pulls the material free. The red silk slides over his shirt, and then is tossed carelessly toward his coat.

Holy crap, he
’
s doing it. He
’
s listening to me. What now?

“Unbutton the top two buttons of your shirt.” The command springs unbidden to my thoughts.

He complies and reveals the golden skin below his throat, with a few stray chest hairs visible near the neck of his undershirt. He looks so good I’d like to grab his shirt and rip it open, licking the skin as it’s uncovered.

Holy cow, where did that come from? I’m not this aggressive woman I’m pretending to be.

“How’s that?” he asks.

My pulse pounds so loudly in my ears I can only nod, afraid I’ll give too much away if I answer. I clear my throat, reaching for nonchalance. “It’ll do.” My hands slide to my hips and I take the plunge, pouring every ounce of courage I possess into my next actions.

I grab my skirt’s black material and work it slowly up my thighs. Tony’s eyes grow round as he follows my movements.

“Get down on your knees,” I say, forcing out my voice in a firm tone.
Keep it together, girl! He looks like he’s game. Keep going.

I tug the fabric up, until my skirt scrunches up around my waist and my black lace underwear is bared to the night air. The handsome man’s breath rushes out and I worry he’s going to balk, leaving me here with my skirt rucked up like a fool.

The intensity of the sexual moment overwhelms me a bit and I slide a finger over my heated mound, teasing the aroused flesh underneath. Desire pushes me to be bold. “Did you not hear me, Tony?” Strength pours into my voice, making me sound more sure of myself than I feel. God, if he laughs at me now, I
’
ll die.

Tony steps closer and sinks to the cobblestone terrace, reaching with two eager hands toward my hips. He buries his face in my crotch and breathes deeply. “You smell so good.” He rubs his cheek back and forth against my panties. “What do you want me to do?”

A shudder ripples through me as the breath of his whispered voice warms my skin through the thin lace. He
wants
me to tell him what to do. I can do this.

“Kiss me,” I rasp, my voice barely above a whisper.

His soft lips press against the thin garment as the heat from his flesh teases me higher. My every sense feels on high alert during this encounter. I’ve never done anything so daring in my entire life. The next kiss presses harder and little shocks of arousal dart through my core.

“That’s nice,” I say, resisting the primal urge to grind myself into his face. “But I need more.”

I glance down into Tony’s light brown eyes and see an intensity I’ve never seen on a man’s face. To know it’s directed toward me feels even more amazing. “Tell me what you want.” His hot hands skate up my thighs to rest near the aroused juncture between my legs.

I feel the wetness pooling in my panties, my body eager and ready to be with this man I just met. More than anything I want his fingers teasing me to a release. “Slip your thumbs under my underwear and stroke me.”

He pulls his hot lips away from the damp cotton panel of my panties and breathes deep. “Yes, ma’am.”

A prickling ignites my skin, sending the hairs on end when he calls me
ma’am
. I like it.

I like it a lot.

Two thick digits slide under the delicate fabric, one angling for my aroused bud and one slipping deeper toward my waiting wetness. A jolt of pleasure rips through me the second his thumb makes contact with my clit. An instant later, his other thumb presses against my tight opening.

“You’re very wet.” His voice rumbles into the evening, almost reverent, like I’m a precious object he’s not sure how to handle. “I want to taste you.”

“Not yet.” There’s no way I could handle his mouth right now. I’d lose it completely and my credibility on driving the bus in this scenario would blow up in my face. My breath hitches and I gather myself, aiming for calm, cool and collected. “Only when I say.”

A moan of protest echoes into the night, cutting off when his hungry kisses pepper my thighs. My legs widen of their own accord and I slide down the cool brick a fraction of an inch, heedless of the snags my clothes will receive. The stiffness of his thumb pushes deep inside me and after a few plunges a small groan erupts from my lips.

It’s been months since I’ve been with anyone. I’m so turned on by this man doing exactly what I want,
what I told him to do
, that I fear I won’t last long. The slick pressure on my clit starts to circle, driving me even higher.

“Come here and kiss my mouth,” I say. His hands pull away and I feel bereft of his touch. I hastily add, “Don’t stop touching me. Use your fingers instead.”

In a flash, the sexy businessman stands, ravaging my mouth with a passion I’ve never had directed toward me. A deep rumble sounds in his throat while his lips cover mine. The frenzied action reveals his pent-up arousal and desire, and I’m almost giddy with the power surge I feel. He truly wants me. Not just what I can do for him, but wants me and what I’m making him feel. What a rush!

Two slick fingers pump into my sex while Tony sucks on my bottom lip, nipping it once in his haste. He leans in to deepen the kiss and the length of his erection presses against my hip. I want nothing more than to tell him to take me right here—to beg this gorgeous man to do me until I scream his name—but a part of my brain still holds on to the act.

I bet he can have any woman he wants any time. I
need
to stand out from the others. For once, I want to be the desired one. My mind empties as exquisite waves of pleasure build and spill through my limbs.

I break the intense kiss to focus on what I need to do. “On your knees,” I whisper. “Now.”

Tony complies and gazes up at me with an eager look on his face. “Yes?”

“Pull the lace aside and lick me.”

The evening air brushes against my heated flesh before his hot tongue laps at my engorged button. One firm hand holds the material aside while the other pumps steadily in and out of me.

A moan of delight drifts out as Tony’s clever tongue zeros in on my clit, pushing me beyond all boundaries of pleasure. My breath hitches again and Tony moves faster, plunging his fingers in me furiously while sucking my bud between his lips. His pointed tongue tickles the aroused skin, and the combined sensations propel me up and over the edge.

An intense release rips through me, lighting my nerve endings and sending shudders to cascade over my body. Tony eases his movements, gently tonguing my wet flesh.

Warmth infuses me as I collapse against the bricks, panting for breath. I can’t believe what I’ve just done. And in public! I’ve essentially had sex with a stranger. A drop-dead gorgeous stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Granted, it was one-sided sex, but still not something I’ve ever done.

Tony eases my panties back in place before standing. The arousal engulfing his entire body makes his movements stiff. Even in the dim light, I see the outline of his protruding cock straining against his tailored slacks.

A smile curves my lips as the prefect response to the evening comes to me. Damn. Can I pull this off? We
’
ll have to see.

I slide my skirt down my hips, smoothing the creases out with the flat of my hand. “You did a good job.” Tony smiles and reaches for me, but I side step out of his grasp. “Next time might be your turn.” My face sets into a distant mien of confidence I’ve never felt before. “Give me your number. Maybe I’ll call.”

Chapter Two

Tony

“Sir? Sir?” My assistant’s voice crackles from the speakerphone, shaking me out of daydreams. “Are you there?”

I shift my growing erection and try to focus on the here and now. This is the third time this morning my thoughts have drifted to the black haired temptress from the bistro last night. “I’m here.”

“Your eleven o’clock is rescheduled for one-thirty and your lunch appointment is moved up to twelve.”

I nod and check my electronic calendar on Outlook with a click. “Got it.”

“You’ll be cutting it close to get back in time, so don’t linger over lunch.”

I smile at the added instructions from the ultra-organized woman. “Yes, Deidra. I can handle it.”

She clicks off the speaker function and my mind trails back to my recent preoccupation of last night. Who was Heather? How can I see her again? Where can I find her?

Frustration boils in my gut as I realize I have no way of contacting her.
Maybe
she’ll call? The indignity of having to wait on a woman, any woman, feels maddening…and, if I’m honest—quite arousing. She was so sexy when she took control. The power wasn’t mine for a change and, I have to admit, I liked it.

I liked it
a lot
.

As I scroll through the recent figures for tomorrow’s acquisition, it occurs to me this mysterious woman might be exactly what I need in my life. Someone to keep me on my toes, keep me guessing—someone else who calls the shots for a change.

A thrill spikes through me as I recall my painfully aroused state twelve hours ago. Last night’s shock when she sauntered back into the bistro was unprecedented. No woman I’ve ever been with would deny my release, especially after I made sure she was pleased first.

I wanted to thrust into her and barrel toward my own relief—to hell with the consequences. I waited a moment after she left, watching, hoping she’d turn and come back with a smile on her face. When she didn’t, my heart beat even faster. Blood pounded through my body and my aching cock wept, not ready to give up on fulfillment.

I’d never felt so alive in my life. Her smell on my fingers lingered for hours, driving me slowly insane with the remembrance of her release. The slim woman peaked on a restaurant’s patio—practically in public—showing an abandon and freedom I’ve never experienced. She was stunning in her sexuality. Confident and completely in control of the situation…and me.

My cock hardens behind my fly. I
’
ve got to get this woman out of my head. I
’
ve work to do. I glance at the flat screen on my desk, not really knowing where to start my day.

Who am I kidding? I need to find her.

I reach for the phone.

The phone rings an inordinate amount of times before I hear a voice. “Match Made in Heaven, this is Linda.”

“Hi Linda. It’s Anthony Carmine.” I’m
this
close to finding her. Warmth steals over me, coating me from head to foot. “I attended your event last night at Manhattan Wine.”

“Ah, yes. Nice to hear from you Mr. Carmine. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Immediately I see Heather in my mind, leaning up against the brick wall, lips parted, breathing shallow as she comes. I clear my throat. “Umm, yes. I had a great time.”

“Good! That’s what I like to hear.”

“I’m actually calling to get the name of one of the ladies I chatted with.”

“A personalized email went out today with everyone’s prospects.”

I recall the email I opened this morning on my way to work. Heather’s name was not in it. “Well…she wouldn’t have put my name down, I don’t think.”

A silence meets me on the other end of the line. “Oh dear. You mean you’d like the name of someone who didn’t check off to meet you?”

Thinking back to the darn clipboard we were all saddled with, I realize there’s no way Heather marked hers and handed it in. After our…encounter…on the secluded patio, she made a beeline for the exit. “Yes, someone who maybe forgot to hand in her form.”

“I collected all the clipboards when the event ended. All forms were accounted for.”

Damn. I know she couldn’t have filled hers regarding me. I never saw her lift a pen when I sat with her. “We…chatted…outside for a while. But I didn’t get her last name.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Carmine. I can’t reveal anyone’s name without permission.”

Anger spikes through my calm façade. This is not going as well as I planned. “Can you make an exception?”

“No sir, I cannot.”

“What if I promised to donate a large sum of money to your favorite charity?”

A distinct iciness creeps into her voice. “No.”

A sigh escapes me and my shoulders slump. Money won’t buy me out of this one. I’ll have to try another avenue. “Okay, thanks for your time.”

We end the call and I shift in my seat. The sensitive helmet of my cock rubs against my underwear, driving me to further distraction. I reach down to move myself, hoping to find a comfortable position.

Impossible.

I’m aching to jerk off, an act I don’t normally have to perform unless traveling for business in an isolated area.

Unbidden, the image of Heather across the bistro table blossoms in my mind, bringing back the exact moment she asked if I wanted someone to tell me what to do. Her long, black hair cascaded over a shoulder, the trailing ends hugging the underside of one pert breast. An enigmatic smile creased the delicate features on her fresh face. No one would have guessed her simple sweater and skirt hid a cauldron of sexual heat bubbling below the surface.

No pretense of heavy makeup, no overly done hairstyle a man can’t touch, no slave to fashion…well, except those spiked heels she wore. If she hadn’t barked that order at me to turn off my phone, I could have easily missed her. And that would have been a crying shame.

The memory of her taste has me jumping up to lock the office door, right as I reach to unzip my fly. The pressure mounting in me has to come out or I’ll be useless all damn day. A small part of me is annoyed at how she left me hanging last night, but as my fist closes over the flesh of my engorged cock, I have to admit I don’t care.

I free the swollen organ and feel like an eager teenager discovering the joys of self-pleasure as I pump my length up and down. My head leans on the chair back as I close my eyes and picture Heather telling me to get on my knees. The skin slides up and down in my grip, creating a warm friction.

I recall Heather’s husky voice guiding my thumbs to her wet sex. Her musky smell spilled into the night, choking out the lingering aromas of the city.

A bead of come leaks out the weeping slit of my cock and trails down the side. I massage the slick warmth around my shaft in a circular twist of my fist and increase the pressure on each stroke, driving myself closer to a peak.

My mouth waters at the remembered taste of her. She was so sexy when she came, mewling soft little sounds of pleasure deep in her throat. I want to slide into her tight wetness and feel her writhe around my flesh. I’d make her call out her release, not stifle the noises like last night. The image of driving myself deep and fast into her permeates my mind, forcing out all other thoughts.

The arousal I’ve felt all night and all morning combined with the stimulation of my hand promises to deliver a powerful peak. The pressure builds in the base of my cock and all I hear in my head is Heather moaning her pleasure while I plunge inside her. I jerk my fist faster, willing my fantasy to become real. At the last moment I remember to cup my left hand around the head and catch my come as it releases.

Wave after wave of sensation shudders through me in time with my pulsing prick. Tension flows out of my body as calmness enters my brain. I open my eyes and reach for the tissues in my top drawer. Steely shards of determination spike down my spine as I clean up and toss the tissues away.

I want her. Man, do I want her.

At least now I should be able to get some work done.

I wonder how long she will make me wait before she calls. I will find this woman, if it
’
s the last thing I do.

The packed upscale sushi restaurant hums with its usual business luncheon crowd. Every slender woman with dark hair has me turning to see if she’s Heather. This establishment is only a block from the wine bistro—she could work nearby. My release this morning only took the edge off my obsession.

My best friend, Marcus, one of the lawyers on our legal advising team for the current merger, thumps his water glass loudly on table. “What the hell is with you today? Your mind was somewhere else through that whole meeting.”

I shrug and look away, not willing to talk about what I experienced last night with Heather. Marcus wouldn’t understand why some slip of a woman with a commanding voice flicked all my switches. Hell, I’m not sure if I know why.

Marcus ignores my avoidance and barrels on. “Brian is trying to circumvent all you’ve set up on the Rafferty buyout. You see that, right?” He folds his napkin and places it on the table. “He’s not just being an obtuse ass.”

I stare a tad too long at a passing Asian woman with flowing black hair. She smiles at me, misunderstanding my gaze. Eagerness lights her eyes with an invitation I can’t fail to miss. “Yes. I figured out Brian’s play a couple of days ago. He’s hoping to undercut my bid so he’ll look better to Nikko.”

Marcus checks out a blonde at the next table while reaching for the bill. “Mr. Apostolopolous knows who the better negotiator is. You’ve made more money for his family than anyone else in the history of the company.”

I smile at my college friend’s loyalty. “Well, they didn’t go public and start to acquire other businesses until twenty years ago…” I raise a hand to cut off the other man who looks like he’s ready to protest and proclaim my success loudly. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you know as well as I do—in this business, you’re judged by your last deal more than anything else.” We rise after he signs the bill.

“True.” Marcus examines his suit for signs of disorderliness, brushing off lint no one can see but him.

“So,” I begin casually as we make our way to the door, hoping his full stomach will prevent him from making unfounded leaps. “What did you think of last night’s speed dating event?”

A snort sounds from behind me. “Two ladies selected me for a follow-up date. Not bad. How about you?”

I refrain from telling him all of the ladies I sat with before Heather requested a follow-up date with me. After Heather’s table, there was no one else I cared to meet. “I had a good time.”

“Really? You bugged out early, if I recall correctly.”

The warming spring air hits us as we step onto the sidewalk, bringing with it the hint of cigarette smoke, reminding me of the lingering scent on last night’s patio. My cock lurches painfully in my pants as the smell triggers thoughts of the black haired temptress. “Did you sit with a woman named Heather?” The question slips out before I recall her teasingly asking me about my sandy-haired friend.

“No.” He quickens his pace as we negotiate through the bustle of people, a leer creasing his face. “Is she the reason you left early?”

Crap. I should have picked my question more carefully. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He laughs and slaps me on the back. “What the hell does that mean?”

Heat flushes my face and I’m reluctant to say more about the slender beauty, not willing to share our encounter with him or anyone else just yet. “I talked to her, but she didn’t mark me down on her clipboard for a follow up.”

“You asked me in case she wrote down my name, is that it?” Marcus’s guffaws increase in volume as we cross the street to Rockefeller Center. We dodge a taxi and a bike messenger before making it to the curb. I push through the glass door of our building, hoping to escape his humor. His voice follows me, unrepentant in its joy. “Maybe for a change of pace, a girl might have picked me over the infamous ‘Strut’? The horror!”

I ignore him and his reference to my old college nickname, pausing my advance through the lobby for a group making their way to the elevators. A glance at my watch reveals it’s a few minutes past one, leaving very little time for the long ride upstairs to make my conference call. “Forget I said anything. I hoped you could help me find her.”

“
You
raising a finger to find a woman? Now that’s a first.”

My anger gets the best of me as I try to make my way around the crowd. “Can it, asshole.” If we weren’t on the fortieth floor, I’d take the damn stairs. Marcus passes me, his laughter ringing out, as he weaves toward the coffee shop in the lobby and his afternoon caffeine fix. He works his way through the milling throngs to stand in line while I sift slowly through the bodies toward the elevator banks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of sleek, long, black hair spilling down the back of a slender woman in spiked heels. I stop cold, turning to stare at the woman handing her money to the coffee barista. Is that Heather? In the lobby of my own building?

The woman turns to face me, a smile curving her lips as she sniffs the aromatic steam rising from her to-go lid. Holy shit, it is her! I change course and angle my way toward her, no longer caring if I’m late for my call.

She’s wearing a shorter skirt today, one that ends above her knees, and a crisp white blouse with ruffles running down the front. All she needs is glasses and she’d look like the sexiest teacher on the face of the earth.

The noise and bustle of the lunch-hour crowd fades away. My vision narrows to the clean, simple look of the woman crossing the open area. No one would suspect the passion lurking beneath her calm exterior, and blood pumps toward my groin thinking about it. I step purposefully into her path and zero in on her eyes, waiting for the moment she recognizes me.

Heather hesitates in her step and an expression I can’t read clouds her face for a split second. It’s soon replaced by a sultry smile that burns me all the way to my toes.

“Hi,” I say. Oh yeah, that sounds suave and sure of myself.

Her dark-as-sin eyes narrow a little as she examines me from head to toe, making me feel like she’s checking out a side of beef and deciding on whether to buy it. “Well, well, who do we have here?” She stops in front of me, jutting a hip to the side, no longer looking like a teacher, but more like a woman completely aware of her sex appeal. “I’m surprised to see you, Tony.”