#(for privacy and also because she’s completely and obviously smitten with her husband)

[harleybarbarahandler]

i hope maggie ackerley is having a good day today

[96harmony96]

Chapter 5

I had a vicious hangover on Saturday morning and figured it was no less than I deserved. As much as I’d resented Lauren’s insistence on negotiating sex with as much passion as she would a merger, in the end I’d negotiated in kind. Because I wanted her enough to take a calculated risk and break my own rules.

I took comfort in knowing she was breaking some of her own, too.

After a long, hot shower, I made my way into the living room and found Cary on the couch with his netbook, looking fresh and alert. Smelling coffee in the kitchen, I headed there and filled the biggest mug I could find.

“Morning, sunshine,” Cary called out.

With my much-needed dose of caffeine wrapped between both palms, I joined him on the couch.

He pointed at a box on the end table. “That came for you while you were in the shower.”

I set my mug on the coffee table and picked up the box. It was wrapped with brown paper and twine, and had my name handwritten diagonally across the top with a decorative calligraphic flourish. Inside was an amber glass bottle with Hangover Cure painted on it in a white old-fashioned font and a note tied with raffia to the bottle’s neck that said, “Drink me.” Lauren’s business card was nestled in the cushioning tissue paper.

As I studied the gift, I found it very apt. Since meeting Lauren I’d felt like I’d fallen down the rabbit hole into a fascinating and seductive world where few of the known rules applied. I was in uncharted territory that was both exciting and scary.

I glanced at Cary, who eyed the bottle dubiously.

“Cheers.” I pried the cork out and drank the contents without thinking twice about it. It tasted like sickly sweet cough syrup. My stomach quivered in distaste for a moment, and then heated. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and shoved the cork back into the empty bottle.

“What was that?” Cary asked.

“From the burn, it’s hair of the dog.”

His nose wrinkled. “Effective but unpleasant.”

And it was working. I already felt a little steadier.

Cary picked up the box and dug out Lauren’s card. He flipped it over; then held it out to me. On the back Lauren had written, “Call me” in bold slashing penmanship and jotted down a number.

I took the card, curling my hand around it. Her gift was proof that she was thinking about me. Her tenacity and focus was seductive. And flattering.

There was no denying I was in trouble where Lauren was concerned. I craved the way I felt when she touched me, and I loved the way she responded when I touched her back. When I tried to think of what I wouldn’t agree to do to have her hands on me again, I couldn’t come up with much.

When Cary tried to hand me the phone, I shook my head. “Not yet. I need a clear head when dealing with her and I’m still fuzzy.”

“You two seemed cozy last night. She’s definitely into you.”

“I’m definitely into her.” Curling into the corner of the couch, I pressed my cheek into the cushion and hugged my legs to my chest. “We’re going to hang out, get to know each other, have casual-but-physically-intense sex, and be otherwise completely independent. No strings, no expectations, no responsibilities.”

Cary hit a button on his netbook and the printer on the other side of the room started spitting out pages. Then he snapped the computer closed, set it on the coffee table, and gave me all his attention. “Maybe it’ll turn into something serious.”

“Maybe not,” I scoffed.

“Cynic.”

“I’m not looking for happily-ever-after, Cary, especially not with a mega-mogul like Jauregui. I’ve seen what it’s like for my mom being connected to powerful men. It’s a full-time job with a part-time companion. Money keeps Mom happy, but it wouldn’t be enough for me.”

My dad had loved my mom. He’d asked her to marry him and share his life. She’d turned him down because he didn’t have the hefty portfolio and sizeable bank account she required in a husband. Love wasn’t a requisite for marriage in Sinuhe Stanton’s opinion and since her sultry-eyed, breathy-voiced beauty was irresistible to most men, she’d never had to settle for less than whatever she wanted. Unfortunately she hadn’t wanted my dad for the long haul.

Glancing at the clock, I saw it was ten thirty. “I guess I should get ready.”

“I love spa day with your mom.” Cary smiled and it chased the lingering shadows on my mood away. “I feel like a god when we’re done.”

“Me, too. Of the goddess persuasion.”

We were so eager to be off that we went downstairs to meet the car rather than wait for the front desk to call up.

The doorman smiled as we stepped outside—me in heeled sandals and a maxi dress, and Cary in hip-hugging jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

“Good morning, Miss Cabello. Mr. Taylor. Will you need a cab today?”

“No thanks, Paul. We’re expecting a car.” Cary grinned. “It’s spa day at Perrini’s!”

“Ah, Perrini’s Day Spa.” Paul gave a sage nod. “I bought my wife a gift certificate for our anniversary. She enjoyed it so much I plan to make it a tradition.”

“You did good, Paul,” I said. “Pampering a woman never goes out of style.”

A black town car pulled up with Clancy at the wheel. Paul opened the rear door for us and we climbed in, squealing when we found a box of Knipschildt’s Chocopologie on the seat. Waving at Paul, we settled back and dug in, taking tiny nibbles of the truffles that were worth savoring slowly.

Clancy drove us straight to Perrini’s, where the relaxation began from the moment one walked in the door. Crossing the entrance threshold was like taking a vacation on the far side of the world. Every arched doorway was framed by lushly vibrant striped silks, while jeweled pillows decorated elegant chaises and oversized armchairs.

Birds chirped from suspended gilded cages and potted plants filled every corner with lush fronds. Small decorative fountains added the sounds of running water, while stringed instrumental music was piped into the room via cleverly hidden speakers. The air was redolent with a mix of exotic spices and fragrances, making me feel like I’d stepped into Arabian Nights.

It was this-close to being too much, but it didn’t cross the line. Instead, Perrini’s was exotic and luxurious, an indulgent treat for those who could afford it. Like my mother, who’d just finished a milk-and-honey bath when we arrived.

I studied the menu of treatments available, deciding to skip my usual “warrior woman” in favor of the “passionate pampering.” I’d been waxed the week before, but the rest of the treatment—“designed to make you sexually irresistible”—sounded like exactly what I needed.

I’d finally managed to get my mind back into the safe zone of work when Cary spoke up from the pedicure chair beside mine.

“Mrs. Stanton, have you met Lauren Jauregui?”

I gaped at him. He knew damn well my mom went nuts over any news about my romantic—and not-so-romantic, as the case may be—relationships.

My mother, who sat in the chair on the other side of me, leaned forward with her usual girlish excitement over a rich, handsome man. “Of course. She’s one of the wealthiest women in the world. Number twenty-five or so on Forbes’s list, if I’m remembering correctly. A very driven young woman, obviously, and a generous benefactor to many of the children’s charities I champion. Extremely eligible, of course, but I don’t believe she's straight , Cary. She’s got a reputation as a ladies’ pleaser.”

“My loss.” Cary grinned and ignored my violent headshaking. “But it’d be a hopeless crush anyway, since she’s digging on Camila.”

“Camila! I can’t believe you didn’t say anything. How could you not tell me something like that?”

I looked at my mom, whose scrubbed face appeared young, unlined, and very much like mine. I was very clearly my mother’s daughter, right down to my surname. The one concession she’d made to my father had been to name me after his mother.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I insisted. “We’re just…friends.”

“We can do better than that,” Sinuhe said, with a look of calculation that struck fear in my heart. “I don’t know how it escaped me that you work in the same building she does. I’m certain she was smitten the moment she saw you. Although she’s known to prefer blondes…Hmm…Anyway. sHe’s also known for her excellent taste. Clearly the latter won out with you.”

“It’s not like that. Please don’t start meddling. You’ll embarrass me.”

“Nonsense. If anyone knows what to do with men, it’s me.”

I cringed, my shoulders creeping up to my ears. By the time my massage appointment came around, I was in desperate need of one. I stretched out on the table and closed my eyes, preparing to take a catnap to get through the long night ahead.

I loved dressing up and looking pretty as much as the next girl, but charity functions were a lot of work. Making small talk was exhausting, smiling nonstop was a pain, and conversations about businesses and people I didn’t know were boring. If it wasn’t for Cary benefitting from the exposure, I’d put up a bigger fight about going.

I sighed. Who was I fooling? I’d end up going anyway. My mom and Stanton supported abused children’s charities because they were significant to me. Going to the occasional stuffy event was a small price to pay for the return.

Taking a deep breath, I consciously relaxed. I made a mental note to call my dad when I got home and thought about how to send a thank-you note to Lauren for the hangover cure. I supposed I could e-mail her using the contact info on her business card, but that lacked class. Besides, I didn’t know who read her inbox.

I’d just call her when I got home. Why not? She’d asked—no, told—me to; she’d written the demand on her business card. And I’d get to hear her luscious voice again.

The door opened and the masseuse came in. “Hello, Camila. You ready?”

Not quite. But I was getting there.

___

After many lovely hours at the spa, my mom and Cary dropped me off at the apartment; then they headed out to hunt for new cuff links for Stanton. I used the time alone to call Lauren. Even with the much-needed privacy, I punched most of her phone number into the keypad a half-dozen times before I finally put the call through.

She answered on the first ring. “Camila.”

W that she’d known who was calling, my mind scrambled for a moment. How did she have my name and number in her contact list? “Uh…hi, Lauren.”

“I’m a block away. Let the front desk know I’m coming.”

“What?” I felt like I’d missed part of the conversation. “Coming where?”

“To your place. I’m rounding the corner now. Call the desk, Camila.”

she hung up and I stared at the phone, trying to absorb the fact that Lauren was moments away from being with me again. Somewhat dazed, I went to the intercom and talked to the front desk, letting them know I was expecting her and while I was talking, she walked into the lobby. A few moments after that, she was at my door.

It was then that I remembered I was dressed in only a thigh-length silk robe, and my face and hair were styled for the dinner. What kind of impression would she get from my appearance?

I tightened the belt of my robe before I let her in. It wasn’t like I’d invited her over for a seduction or anything.

Lauren stood in the hallway for a long moment, her gaze raking me from my head down to my French manicured toes. I was equally stunned by her appearance. The way she looked in worn jeans and a T-shirt made me want to undress her with my teeth.

“Worth the trip to find you like this, Camila.” sHe stepped inside and locked the door behind her. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Thanks to you. Thank you.” My stomach quivered because she was here, with me, which made me feel almost…giddy. “That can’t be why you came over.”

“I’m here because it took you too long to call me.”

“I didn’t realize I had a deadline.”

“I have to ask you something time-sensitive, but more than that, I wanted to know if you were feeling all right after last night.” Her eyes were dark as they swept over me, her breathtaking face framed by that luxurious curtain of inky hair. “God. You look beautiful, Camila. I can’t remember ever wanting anything this much.”

With just those few simple words I became hot and needy. Way too vulnerable. “What’s so urgent?”

“Go with me to the advocacy center dinner tonight.”

I pulled back, surprised and excited by the request. “You’re going?”

“So are you. I checked, knowing your mother would be there. Let’s go together.”

My hand went to my throat, my mind torn between the weirdness of how much she knew about me and concern over what she was asking me to do. “That’s not what I meant when I said we should spend time together.”

“Why not?” The simple question was laced with challenge. “What’s the problem with going together to an event we’d already planned on attending separately?”

“It’s not very discreet. It’s a high-profile event.”

“So?” Lauren stepped closer and fingered a curl of my hair.

There was a dangerous purr to her voice that sent a shiver through me. I could feel the warmth of her big, hard body and smell the richly musky scent of her skin. I was falling under her spell, deeper with every minute that passed.

“People will make assumptions, my mother in particular. She’s already scenting your bachelor blood in the water.”

Lowering her head, Lauren pressed her lips into the crook of my neck. “I don’t care what people think. We know what we’re doing. And I’ll deal with your mother.”

“If you think you can,” I said breathlessly, “you don’t know her very well.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” Her tongue traced the wildly throbbing vein in my throat and I melted into her, my body going lax as she pulled me close.

Still, I managed to say, “I haven’t said yes.”

“But you won’t say no.” sHe caught my earlobe between her teeth. “I won’t let you.”

I opened my mouth to protest and she sealed her lips over mine, shutting me up with a lush wet kiss. Her tongue did that slow, savoring licking that made me long to feel her doing the same between my legs. My hands went to her hair, sliding through it, tugging. When she wrapped her arms around me, I arched, curving into her hands.

Just as she had in her office, she had me on my back on the couch before I realized she was moving me, her mouth swallowing my surprised gasp. The robe gave way to her dexterous fingers; then she was cupping my breasts, kneading them with soft, rhythmic squeezes.

“Lauren—”

“Shh.” sHe sucked on my lower lip, her fingers rolling and tugging my tender nipples. “It was driving me crazy knowing you were naked beneath your robe.”

“You came over without—Oh! Oh, God…”

Her mouth surrounded the tip of my breast, the wash of heat bringing a mist of perspiration to my skin.

My gaze darted frantically to the clock on the cable box. “Lauren, no.”

Her head lifted and she looked at me with stormy green eyes. “It’s insane, I know. I don’t—I can’t explain it, Camila, but I have to make you come. I’ve been thinking about it constantly for days now.”

One of her hands pushed between my legs. They fell open shamelessly, my body so aroused I was flushed and almost feverish. Her other hand continued to plump my breasts, making them heavy and unbearably sensitive.

“You’re wet for me,” she murmured, her gaze sliding down my body to where she was parting me with her fingers. “You’re beautiful here, too. Plush and pink. So soft. You didn’t wax today, did you?”

I shook my head.

“Thank God. I don’t think I would’ve made it ten minutes without touching you, let alone ten hours.” She slid one finger carefully into me.

My eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by a woman whose familiarity with the rules of Brazilian waxing betrayed an intimate knowledge of women. A woman who was still fully clothed and kneeling on the floor beside me.

“You’re so snug.” Lauren pulled out and thrust gently back into me. My back bowed as I clenched eagerly around her. “And so greedy. How long has it been since the last time you were fucked?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ve been busy. My thesis, job-hunting, moving…”

“A while, then.” sHe pulled out and pushed back into me with two fingers. I couldn’t hold back a moan of delight. The woman had talented hands, confident and skilled, and she took what he wanted with them.

“Are you on birth control, Camila?”

“Yes.” My hands gripped the edges of the cushions. “Of course.”

“I’ll prove I’m clean and you’ll do the same, then you’re going to let me come in you.”

“Jesus, Lauren.” I was panting for her, my hips circling shamelessly onto her thrusting fingers. I felt like I’d spontaneously combust if she didn’t get me off.

I’d never been so turned on in my life. I was near mindless with the need for an orgasm. If Cary walked in right then and found me writhing in our living room while Lauren finger-fucked me, I didn’t think I’d care.

Lauren was breathing hard, too. Her face was flushed with lust. For me. When I’d done nothing more than respond helplessly to her.

Her hand at my breast moved to my cheek and brushed over it. “You’re blushing. I’ve scandalized you.”

“Yes.”

Her smile was both wicked and delighted, and it made my chest tight. “I want to feel my cum in you when I fuck you with my fingers. I want you to feel my cum in you, so you think about how I looked and the sounds I made when I pumped it into you. And while you’re thinking about that, you’re going to look forward to me doing it again and again.”

My sex rippled around her stroking fingers, the rawness of her words pushing me to the brink of orgasm.

“I’m going to tell you all the ways I want you to please me, Camila, and you’re going to do it all…take it all, and we’re going to have explosive, primal, no-holds-barred sex. You know that, don’t you? You can feel how it’ll be between us.”

“Yes,” I breathed, clutching my breasts to ease the deep ache of my hardened nipples. “Please, Lauren.”

“Shh…I’ve got you.” The pad of her thumb rubbed my clitoris in gentle circles. “Look into my eyes when you come for me.”

Everything tightened in my core, the tension building as she massaged my clit and pushed her fingers in and out in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Give it up to me, Camila,” she ordered. “Now.”

I climaxed with a thready cry, my grip white-knuckled on the sides of the cushions as my hips pumped onto her hand, my mind far beyond shame or shyness. My gaze was locked to her, unable to look away, riveted by the fierce masculine triumph that flared in her eyes. In that moment she owned me. I’d do anything she wanted. And she knew it.

Searing pleasure pulsed through me. Through the roaring of blood in my ears, I thought I heard her speak hoarsely, but I lost the words when she hooked one of my legs over the back of the couch and covered my cleft with her mouth.

“No—” I pushed at her head with my hands. “I can’t.”

I was too swollen, too sensitive. But when her tongue touched my clit, fluttering over it, the hunger built again. More intense than the first time. she rimmed my trembling slit, teasing me, taunting me with the promise of another orgasm when I knew I couldn’t have one again so quickly.

Then her tongue speared into me and I bit my lip to bite back a scream. I came a second time, my body quaking violently, tender muscles tightening desperately around her decadent licking. Her growl vibrated through me. I didn’t have the strength to push her away when she returned to my clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…until I climaxed again, gasping her name.

I was boneless as she straightened my leg and still breathless when she pressed kisses up my belly to my breasts. she licked each of my nipples, and then hauled me up with her arms banded around my back. I hung lax and pliable in her grip while she took my mouth with suppressed violence, bruising my lips and betraying how close to the edge she was.

she closed my robe; then stood, staring down at me.

“Lauren…?”

“Seven o’clock, Camila.” sHe reached down and touched my ankle, her fingertips caressing the diamond anklet I’d put on in preparation for the evening. “And keep this on. I want to fuck you while you’re wearing nothing else.”