The bed felt like heaven, so huge and perfectly soft. I had a funny sensation as he withdrew my towel and laid me down on the light, fluffy pillows, as if I’d been swept away on a cloud. Declan lay down next to me, naked and warm. Drawing the down comforter over us both, he pulled me against him.

I nestled there, my cheek to his chest, my supple body against his hard length, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. If this is how a moth felt deep in the flames, then so be it. I wouldn’t fight it. It felt too good. Who could worry about anything when everything you needed or wanted was right there, wrapped around you? Listening, so content, to the beat of his steady heart, I fell fast asleep.

CHAPTER 6

Declan

“Try one.” I used a spoon to pick up a fresh spring roll from the serving plate, a sprig of mint neatly tucked into the soft rice paper wrap.

Kara held out her plate, her eyes flashing with excitement. She’d never had Vietnamese food before. I had to remind myself sometimes, Kara had barely ever left Montana. Greasy, over-fried Chinese noodles was about as ethnic as it got.

I’d taken her to try the city’s finest French Vietnamese cuisine and made sure we had a private table in the corner. I wanted a view, out the window for Kara. For me, of Kara, private, to myself, away from prying eyes. I had a lot planned for tonight.

We’d spent the day the way I never did, lazing around, sleeping in and then strolling down city sidewalks without a specific destination. We’d stopped at a café that looked good, poked around a few stores, got an afternoon drink at a bar with a crazy talented piano player. Anywhere else he’d be the toast of the city. In New York he was playing piano at a bar at four o’clock on a Thursday—and we were lucky enough to be there to listen. We’d only spent the last two hours apart, as I did a quick business meeting and she headed back to the hotel room to change.

Kara closed her eyes, savoring a sip of Pho. “This is heaven,” she murmured.

“You like it?”

“Love it!”

I enjoyed watching her eat. She didn’t pick at her food like a bird, or push it around the plate as if messing it up made it look half-finished. I didn’t know when women had stopped eating, but at least in New York and L.A. they all seemed to have signed an agreement, a hard-binding contract of self-imposed starvation.

Kara relished her food, the same way she relished New York. And me. The thought popped into my head and though it sounded ridiculous, it was exactly how she made me feel. When we were together it was like she couldn’t get enough and she was dying to touch me, taste me, savor every drop. She made me feel like I was her desperate craving.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel great. It got to me, somewhere deep, more than the sex. And the sex was amazing. It eclipsed anything I’d ever had before, made all the subs I’d played with up to now look exactly like that—playthings. Easily forgotten once you grew out of them. But with Kara it kept getting better. The more I got to know her needs, sense her responses, learn how to coax even more pleasure out of her, the more I wanted to do it again, take her even higher the next time, see how I could push her boundaries even further. Kara was far more addictive than any drug.

A waiter set a dish of caramelized chicken with lemongrass and chilies on our table.

“Thank you so much!” Kara gushed to him. “Everything is so incredible here.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it all.” He gave her a warm smile and I felt that familiar sensation again. On the one hand, I had enough rational sense to get that the waiter was simply doing his job, polite and friendly and all that. I also understood exactly how he felt under the power of Kara’s 1,000-watt smile. Like a tractor beam, there was no escaping it. Especially as a red-blooded man, what was he supposed to do, not find her gorgeous and charming?

But then there was my other hand which currently was balled into a fist at my side, itching to shove him away hard in the middle of his chest. He couldn’t weigh more than 150 pounds. I could send him flying.

“How have I lived without Vietnamese food all these 24 years?” Kara asked me, lifting a steaming forkful to her mouth.

“We should go to Vietnam,” I found myself saying. “I’ve never been. We could see it for the first time together.”

She smiled at me shyly and looked down. I knew I was starting to extend our timeline, starting to see this keep going past Sunday. I hadn’t laid it all out yet, hadn’t discussed it with her. But more and more I was feeling it wasn’t just a good idea, it was the only idea. The thought that this would all end in three days, that she’d walk away and we’d both go back to business as usual seemed ridiculous. Absurd.

She couldn’t go back to killing herself to save that failing ranch and waiting tables at the diner for truckers passing through town. And locals. Like Bruce. Screw that, I wanted Kara with me. We’d have to take this a little longer, see where it went. I knew she’d agreed to this week for the money, no doubt about it. But once I took care of all of her debts, maybe she’d still want to stick around.

“I’d love to go to Vietnam with you.” She smiled, an inside-out smile, radiating from within. Kara positively glowed. Light makeup, no blow-out or up-do, she bloomed like the most beautiful woman in New York. I don’t know how she did it, but she made me feel like I could take out ‘Vietnam’ and insert anything into that sentence—anywhere, any place, any time—and she’d still love to go with me. That’s how she made me feel. And she’d done it from the start, back when I had nothing.

I might have wealth now, but she’d never needed it from me. She’d looked at me like I was a millionaire before I had a penny to my name. That made it all the more fun to spoil her now.

“I have something for you.” I took a small jewelry box out of my jacket pocket. The pocket on the other side of the jacket had another something secret for her, but not just yet. I’d put that into play soon enough.

I set the light blue square box down on the table. With shy fingers, she picked it up and opened it.

“It’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed, taking it out and holding up the simple gold chain and charm.

“It’s an apple,” I explained as she brought the charm up to study it. The leaf was decorated in small diamonds. “It’s from Tiffany’s. You know how you call New York ‘The Big Apple.’ I thought you might like it.” Usually I had my assistant Angie pick out gifts, but this time I’d wanted to do it myself.

“It’s so thoughtful of you. I love it.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“OK, now, none of that.” I stood up, completely uncomfortable with tears. I never had any idea what to do with myself. “Let me put it on you.” She held it up to me and I fastened it at the back of her neck.

Sitting back down, I saw that it looked perfect. Sweet and charming, exactly like her. And, resting just past the neckline of her silk shift dress, it brought my attention right back to where it never strayed far from: nestled between her breasts.

“I see you wore the dress I wanted.” I picked up my drink and took a sip. When I’d headed to my meeting, I’d texted her at the hotel, giving her instructions.

“Did you do what I told you?” She flushed, embarrassed. Still so shy and coy. I loved that in her. It was real, too, not affected. That was my Kara, so dirty and nasty, wanting my cock up her ass. But blushing like a virgin.

She nodded. No panties, no bra.

My prick stirred. Kara was bare for me and only I knew it. I had full access and a long white tablecloth. What more did a man need?

“But you wore a wrap,” I chastised. She’d placed a silvery cashmere shawl over her shoulders and draped it artfully over her breasts.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I felt naked.”

“That’s how I want you.” I gave her a wicked, burning smile and she flushed from the heat of it.

“You may leave it on for now,” I granted her. “But when I say to take it off, it’s gone.”

“OK.” She nodded, shaky. I knew she liked my control, my or

ders. She wanted to follow what I told her to do, and man did I love giving her instructions. We were a perfect pair.

“Give me your purse,” I commanded.

She looked at me, confused, but did as I asked. I liked how she trusted me. I slipped the gift from my other jacket pocket into it, then handed it back.

“I want you to go and do something for me.” I beckoned her closer. She leaned over and I could smell her, honey sweet and light. Close to her ear, I whispered, “There’s something in there for you. Go to the restroom and put it up inside your pussy.”

She pulled away, her back straight and surprised. I loved her eyes wide like that, open with shock and arousal all at once. It might be my favorite look on her, either that or flushed pink, lips parted screaming my name as she came. Both worked for me.

It seemed to take forever, Kara up and away from the table in the bathroom. A waiter refilled our water glasses. Another one came to ask if I needed anything. “Kara,” I wanted to growl, but I simply waved him off. Impatient, I still liked the thought of her in a stall, embarrassed, fumbling around inside her purse and pulling out the cool, metal egg. She’d probably hesitate, unsure what it was, wondering if she should do what I said or even how. I was pretty sure she’d never had a vibrating egg up inside of her before. She probably didn’t even know it vibrated. Yet.

A better man would have stopped at the first gift, kept things classy and thoughtful. Not me. Sure, I wanted to shower Kara with jewels, but deep inside I also had ferocious needs. The beast in me needed to be served.

I watched her as she walked back to the table, her eyes big, that shawl still draped lightly over her breasts. Her naked breasts, as per my instructions. My cock throbbed against my thigh. Under the thin gauze I could still see them jiggle as she walked, nothing holding them in.

Other men watched her, too. How could they not? She looked fresh and glorious, a newly opened tulip sprung from the frozen March ground. I still wanted to sock them all in the jaw and roar she was mine, pounding my chest.

Tags: Callie Harper Beg For It Erotic
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