Chapter 2
Eve
“This is gorgeous, Lauren.”
“Thanks. Too bad they only had it in one color. Green would have looked spectacular on you.”
Lauren pinched a fold of shimmering red fabric and pinned it. “Just don’t go crazy with your strawberry H?agen-Dazs. This fabric isn’t too forgiving.”
Eve sighed. “I know. It stinks to always have to watch my weight.”
She held still as her best friend eyed her waist, pins at the ready.
Having a seamstress for a friend had its benefits, although it was often hazardous to her wallet. Ever since they were in elementary school together, Lauren had had one goal in mind: to go to fashion design school and have her own line. Not only had she managed to achieve that, working as an escort while taking classes, but she had opened her own business and was the go-to for custom evening wear. Most high-end escorts went to her, and Eve got to play model when her friend tested new creations.
Lauren quickly placed the pins like the professional she was. “I don’t know how you still do it. I’d go crazy if I had to go back. I remember some of the girls soaking cotton balls in orange juice and swallowing them, just to get rid of the hunger pangs for a while.”
“That’s extreme, yeah. I just have a glass of water and a handful of almonds. Does the trick for me.”
It also helped that she had regular clients who liked her just as she was: petite and slightly curvy.
“There.”
Lauren set down the pincushion, her pale blue eyes critically assessing her handiwork. “This should photograph nicely too—just enough shimmer to bring drama but not too loudly.”
“Thank you, Lauren. You’re the best.”
“That’s what they tell me. Three new girls came to me last week. Did you have anything to do with it?”
Eve smiled. “Maybe.”
“You are too good to me.”
Eve made a dismissive gesture. “I had little to do with it. They saw the white dress.”
Ironic that the client who had requested it hadn’t even seen it.
Lauren brushed a lock of fiery red hair off her forehead. “OK, I’m done, let’s take it off. Be careful of the pins.”
She eased down the zipper, and Eve shimmied out of the spectacular red number. “This is the prettiest one you’ve ever made.”
Lauren laughed. “You say that about every single dress, Evie.”
“That’s because it’s true. You are my hero.”
Lauren snorted. “I’m no hero. But I’m glad you think so.”
Eve was proud of her childhood friend. She was as close to a sister as Eve would ever have, and she was grateful for everything Lauren had done for her. When she’d lost her college scholarship and her mother kicked her out, Lauren reached out a helping hand and took her in, no questions asked and wanting nothing in return.
Right now, her sharp gaze searched Eve’s face, her light blue eyes piercing. “Something’s bugging you. You’ve been off all evening. What’s going on?”
Eve sighed. She’d known that this was coming. If there was a downside to having such a friend, it was the fact that she couldn’t hide anything from her.
She swallowed. “I had a…strange thing happen to me the other night.”
Lauren tensed. “Oh no. A weirdo?”
“No.”
Lauren’s shoulders relaxed. Eve knew she worried, even though Eleet was the safest place you could possibly work in this field. Once, one of Lauren’s clients had gotten aggressive, and she had never forgotten it. It didn’t matter that it had been a sleazy agency that had set up the encounter. Lauren was still apprehensive and often texted late at night just to make sure Eve was OK.
Lauren waited expectantly.
“Not a weirdo. But it was…”
Intriguing. Exciting. Mind-blowingly erotic. “Different.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Um…”
Eve hesitated.
She did, and she didn’t. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear her friend’s brutally honest opinion on what had happened with Adam. It was so out of the ordinary, and oddly, part of her wanted to keep it to herself.
“Evie, you’re blushing! Oh my God!”
Lauren’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
Adam happened.
She described the encounter as succinctly as she could, watching as her friend grew increasingly incredulous.
“Whoa. Let me get this straight. He made the earth move for you, told you his first name, then sent you home?”
“Good job giving me the CliffsNotes version.”
Lauren shook her head. “I thought he booked the Platinum Package.”
“He did.”
“And that’s all he went for? His payment is nonrefundable!”
“He won’t be hurting. It goes toward credit.”
“How exactly did it end?”
“He pocketed my panties and said he owed me a new pair.”
“He kept a souvenir?”
Lauren asked.
“He did.”
“And he kept all his clothes on.”
It was a statement, not a question.
Eve nodded. “Never took off his suit jacket.”
“Did he at least turn on the lights? After?”
“He did not.”
“Tell you his last name?”
“No.”
“Evie!”
Eve shrugged one shoulder. “I told you it was unusual.”
Lauren leaned back. “Wow. You think…maybe there’s something wrong with…um, him?”
A flashback of Adam’s strong hands all over her, of the way his solid body had felt pressed against hers, caused instant tingles, and she squeezed her thighs together.
He had been hard. Unmistakably so. Why hadn’t he asked her to take care of him?
“Mmm…no. Nothing is wrong with that man.”
“Maybe he’s deformed or scarred?”
Eve shook her head. “Not that I could tell.”
Lauren pondered for a moment. “Maybe he’s blind and doesn’t need lights. I had a blind client once. He was out of this world responsive.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. But if that were the case, wouldn’t it be in his paperwork?”
“Yeah, you’re right. They would have told you.”
Concern spread across Lauren’s face. “This isn’t how you usually handle things. Why did you let him?”
Why, indeed. “Honestly? I have no idea. I got completely carried away.”
Literally.
“I’ll say. Has that ever happened before?”
“You know it hasn’t.”
Not with any man. Ever.
“That’s huge,”
Lauren muttered.
“I wouldn’t know. He never even let me touch him.”
If she’d registered Eve’s stab at humor, Lauren didn’t show it. “He’s got to use that ginormous credit. You think he’ll ask for you again?”
“No idea. He has his pick.”
Eve shrugged. “I get paid regardless.”
“Do you want him to?”
Eve felt her face grow hot.
Lauren nodded slowly. “He got to you.”
That, Eve realized, was an enormous understatement.
Lauren shook her head. “You’re so close to the finish line and to getting out of this, Evie. Keep your head on straight. The last thing you need is someone tripping you up.”
“I know,”
Eve said softly.
“Maybe it would be best for you not to take him on again.”
“Maybe.”
?
Adam
He’d meant to fuck her.
That had been the plan.
Adam stared at the laptop screen, the spreadsheet numbers going fuzzy before his tired eyes. He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. Here he was, thinking of her again.
Eve.
He clapped his laptop closed and pushed away from his desk, rolling back in his Aeron chair.
He swiveled to face the glass display case, filled with model planes, aviation certificates, and business awards he’d won over the past seven years.
The business was going well, and the dream project he’d been putting everything into was very close to becoming a reality.
It had cost him his personal life, but then, he didn’t have or want one.
Not after his disaster of a marriage finally ended with Ingrid disappearing after six years from hell.
He’d searched for her halfheartedly, only in the beginning. Truth was, he didn’t want her back.
What he wanted… He raked a hand through his hair.
What did he want?
Just a short while ago, he’d thought he’d known. He’d thrown himself into his work with laser focus. Work, eat, sleep, sometimes poker with his brother and a couple of guys. And if he needed a woman, getting one for the night was easy.
For seven years, he had done just that, and it had been unproblematic.
But now, he felt as if everything had been upended, all because of one encounter.
Why had everything gone sideways? He could just hear his brother’s ribbing, giving him shit about how fast the night had gone from a hard, meaningless birthday fuck with no preamble or chitchat to…just what had it turned into?
Hell, if he knew.
The way she’d screamed as she came off that mattress, the whole damned bed shaking, her hoarse cries, how she had drenched his hand as he worked her soft, slick skin…
Fuck.
He’d been with countless escorts. For years. Not once had he encountered this. They serviced him with feigned enthusiasm, while he knew they were performing. Not that he’d minded. The last thing he wanted was any kind of real connection.
But this woman… Well, if she’d been faking, she really was worthy of an Academy Award.
What kind of escort comes like that?
She’d been attracted to him, undeniably; he knew it. Felt it. If anything, darkness had taken things to a new level of erotic.
Admittedly, she intrigued and excited him too. He didn’t know what had driven him to do what he’d done and say what he’d said. Except for being in the same bedroom, nothing had gone the way he’d planned. Not how he’d been compelled to explore her, not how he’d wondered if she looked as good as her profile photos, not the way he’d exploded, fully dressed, without so much as a touch of her hands or mouth.
He’d gone over the edge with her, gritting his teeth to stifle his groan, every muscle contracting with the effort to keep from shuddering.
She didn’t know and never would.
Because he wouldn’t see her again.
He didn’t need the complication. But even though a week had passed, he couldn’t get her out of his head. Her scent, her skin, the way she’d come undone with him.
How she had laughed when he’d revealed his name.
“Adam…and Eve?”
Her voice had sounded sweet and a little hoarse. He knew that was from the screaming caused by what he’d done to her, and it was sexy as hell.
All week, in the shower, she’d been the star of every morning fantasy. Sometimes, at night too.
He rolled back to his desk, reopened his laptop, and brought up the Eleet website.
New photos.
Eve, in a red halter dress that hugged her body perfectly. The memory of that body pressed against his slammed into him again. This woman didn’t need to pose provocatively in revealing lingerie. In that knee-length number and with that sweet smile on those full lips, she was hotter than all the other women on that website put together.
Girl Next Door meets Temptress in Red.
Christ, he was hard again.
He needed someone for tonight.
Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he quickly thumbed through his contacts, then tapped to dial Eleet.
Eve
“You have a client request,”
Kitty’s voice purred out of the speaker. “And he is VIP.”
Eve poured coffee into her favorite smiley face mug, added milk, and stirred. “Is he repeat?”
she asked the Eleet liaison.
Only out of curiosity. Nothing to do with Adam constantly drifting into her thoughts throughout the week. She would be doing something, and flashbacks would freeze her in her tracks. It made her anxious, and she didn’t like the restless feeling.
“He is a repeat, yes.”
Her heart did a little flip.
“It’s Devon Thomason.”
“Oh.”
Her shoulders sagged with disappointment, and she was irritated with herself for that.
She liked Devon. Polite, intelligent, and easy on the eyes.
“Well, curb your enthusiasm,”
Kitty drawled. “Are you going to turn down this one too?”
A perk of being top-tier at Eleet was the right of refusal. She could decline any request for any reason. This week, she’d nixed both appointments she’d been offered. Doing it a third time would be pushing it.
She sighed. “I’ll take him.”
“Great!”
Kitty sounded relieved. “It’s for 8:00 p.m. A business party. I’ll shoot you the info packet right away.”
Gripping her mug, Eve padded in her fuzzy slippers to her comfy leather couch. Sinking into the soft red Napa, she tossed a coaster on the cherry coffee table and set her mug on top. Her iPad chimed with the email notification. She opened the message and began to read.
Name: Devon Alan Thomason
Age: 30
Occupation: corporate pilot
Marital status: single, never married
She skipped the rest of his personal information and preferences.
Function tonight: celebratory, important reveal
Dress: formal
Company: Lars Aviation
Location: Lark Hotel
Lark Hotel. That was the new glass tower that had shot up seemingly overnight. She hadn’t been there yet.
Eve finished her coffee and took her mug to the dishwasher. She tapped her nails on the white granite countertop, eyeing the ticking daisy-shaped wall clock above the stainless microwave.
She should get started. She needed a quick manicure, and Devon liked her in red, so she’d break out the fabulous crimson formal Lauren had crafted.
Perhaps an evening with him was precisely what she needed to finally get her mind off the encounter with the mysterious Adam.
Adam
She’d come early.
The lock whirred, and in the next moment, in she strutted, pin-straight blonde hair flowing down her back to her ass. She wore a light blue dress he immediately noticed was split in the front, the parted fabric held by what looked like a ladder made up of glittering clear crystal bars. The split began between her tits, slanting diagonally down her waist and snaking along one thigh.
A bit too much for his announcement celebration, but it would have to do.
“Adam,”
she cooed from the bathroom doorway, flipping back her nearly white hair. Hand on her hip, she thrust out one long leg, deliberately posing. “It’s been too long.”
Towel around his waist, he viewed her in the mirror as he dragged the razor along his jaw. “Heather.”
Her high-heeled silver shoes clacked loudly on the marble floor. A sly smile curved her glossy pink lips, her tongue running slowly over a mouth that was a tad too wide. Funny, he’d never noticed that before.
He turned his gaze back to himself, resuming shaving. “I sent Premier the invitation. You know we don’t need to leave for another hour.”
She slithered up behind him. “I do know.”
Heather pressed herself fully against his back, her small tits flattening against him, her arms encircling his waist, her long steel-blue nails raking over the top edge of his white towel. “I booked you extra time. On me.”
She giggled at her own pun.
Boldly, she slid one hand up his chest, kneading his pec, her other hand moving eagerly to rub him. “I missed your cock.”
He paused, razor in hand, unable to suppress a smirk. “Oh, did you?”
“Yes,”
she purred. “I did. I was so happy to see your request for me tonight. You read my dirty, dirty mind.”
“It’s for accompanying me to an event. There’s nothing in the request that mentions dirty, Heather.”
She pouted. Adam ignored it, then set down the razor and ran a palm over his jaw, leaning in and turning both ways to inspect his face. “Hand me that green bottle, would you?”
She looked and eyed his Hermès cologne, sitting on the black granite top of the second sink behind him.
“Sure thing. But first…”
Her fingers hooked the edge of the towel right below his navel. One hard tug and the white terry hit the floor.
The next second, he was swiftly hardening in her expert hand.
His eyelids lowered.
“Oh my God,”
she moaned. “Look at this big, beautiful cock.”
She stroked, a master of her craft. Her thin fingers flew along his shaft, twisting, tugging back and forth, pausing to insist and press and tease in all the right places.
He turned to half-face her, allowing her better access. No one gave hand jobs better than Heather. His mind switched to the feel of Eve’s slender wrists imprisoned in his hand. How would she have worked him?
The mere thought turned him to insta-steel.
“Ooh. I see you missed me too.”
Heather paused what she was doing just long enough to toss a clean towel at his feet, her other hand squeezing, never letting go.
She slid to her knees. Her free hand grabbed his ass.
OK, then, he wasn’t about to stop her. After this week, he needed this.
He braced one hand on the black marble vanity top. Her lips wrapped hotly around him, quickly taking him deep. He lowered his gaze and dispassionately watched her blow him, her lips reddening as she sucked harder, looking up at him with lusty pale gray eyes.
It felt good. He let his eyelids drift shut and let her do her thing. But the face that hovered at the edge of his consciousness as the sensations overtook him wasn’t Heather’s.
Eve
The Rolls-Royce smoothly glided toward the entrance of the brand-new, fifty-story Lark Hotel. Along the circular drive that led to the glass tower, a riot of fuchsia bougainvillea plantings rose ten feet in a splash of joyous color. Two massive walls of waterfalls bracketed the entry, the water sluicing over rippled slabs of rough white rock. The noise of cascading liquid competed with the sound of people, car horns, and bustling Las Vegas.
The car door opened, and Devon Thomason lithely stepped out, dark-haired and dashing in his tux, turning to offer Eve a hand.
He flashed her one of his dimpled grins, his green eyes regarding her with mischief. “Hurry up, Eve. There’s an open bar, and you could use a drink.”
Eve picked up the dark red clutch from her lap. It was one of her favorites, a sleek, slim satin roll encrusted in fire-faceted crystals. She’d picked it specifically to match the new dress. A wide gold and white crystal cuff completed the look.
She swiveled, knees together, gold peep-toe Jimmy Choos glimmering as she exited the car. Their four-inch height barely brought the top of her head to Devon’s broad shoulder.
She smiled up at him. “What makes you think I need a drink?”
He offered her his arm, his lips curving into a very charming smile. “I know a thing or two about you. The whole ride, you were somewhere else. Frowning too. Who do I need to beat up?”
“No one as of now, but I’ll be sure to let you know.”
She noted the brass airplane-shaped logos on the glass doors that parted with a whoosh, revealing the entry to the lobby the moment she and Devon stepped up.
It was like nothing she had ever seen. Huge, frameless windows soared to impossible heights, separated by undulating portions of shimmering sky-blue glass. The entire lobby was all glass and mirror-polished steel, but the rounded white leather sectionals looked so soft and inviting, they reminded her of clouds. Royal-blue area rugs added color.
The effect was airy and luxurious.
Devon’s eyes tracked to the top, where a huge starburst-shaped skylight glowed, illuminated in bright silver. “Nice, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “I’ll bet the sky view is gorgeous in the daytime.”
Their heels clicked on the polished white tile floors. Silver flecks twinkled on each porcelain square, and Eve thought of sprinkles of magical glitter.
At the reception, a massive fountain featured an opaque glass airplane, its sharp nose pointing skyward, the water effect shooting billows of mist out of its tail.
Devon grinned. “Now, that’s inspiring. Makes me a little hard.”
“Does everything have to remind you of sex?”
“Sex is everything,”
he smoothly replied. “Speaking of…”
Appraisingly, he eyed the elevator bank, and she didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment in his green eyes. “Well, that’s a bust,”
he muttered.
Eve followed his gaze to the twin vertical tracks, where curved glass cabins moved passengers up and down with impressive speed.
She burst into a laugh. “They’re clear.”
Most of Devon’s requests featured some sort of elevator activity involving four-inch closed-toe pumps, skirts slit up the back, and open gusset thongs. She didn’t like to think of all the times security guys all over Vegas must have had a blast watching the two of them after Devon had punched the emergency stop button and rounded on her like a beast.
They reached the bank and waited for a cabin to descend.
He leaned down, moving close to murmur in her ear. “Gonna be hard to ride up to the top and keep my hands to myself the whole way.”
She smiled at him. “Now you care who sees?”
His dimples flashed. “Unfortunately, there are too many coworkers around here.”
The doors slid open. “Lobby,”
a monotone robotic female voice announced. Passengers spilled out, scattering everywhere, each hurrying to partake in some sort of Vegas fun or food or sin.
Placing a palm gallantly on her lower back, Devon guided her in. Surprisingly, no one else entered, and the glass doors shut with only the two of them inside. Above the control panel, Eve spotted a brass plaque rendition of the needle-nose airplane sculpture she had seen in the lobby.
Devon punched the button marked 49. The elevator began a smooth and swift ascent.
He turned to her, his green eyes blazing. “Later, I hope. You look fantastic tonight.”
?
“Porn star martini for the lady.”
Eve gave Devon a sidelong look. “Really?”
He shrugged. “I can’t think of anyone more deserving of that drink.”
Coming from him, it wasn’t an insult but a compliment, and she accepted it as such. Eve knew she was the best at what she did, and she refused to be ashamed.
She smirked right back at him. “Green elevator for the gentleman,”
she sweetly told the bartender.
Dressed in a smart gray vest, white shirt, and silver bow tie, the young man nodded but looked to Devon for confirmation.
Devon grinned. “You heard the lady, man,”
he said. “Grab the Gray Goose and get to shaking.”
They leaned against the chrome barstools, watching the bartender showcase his talents with bottles, jiggers, and shakers. Tom Cruise in Cocktail had nothing on this guy.
“Looks wonderful,”
she said when he presented her with a martini glass filled with orange liquid topped with white foam, a slice of seedy passion fruit floating on top.
“This is the side.”
He placed a shot of bubbly prosecco beside her glass.
She lifted the foamy orange drink and took a sip. Passion fruit, lime, and vanilla flavors rolled, melding on her tongue. “Mmm.”
It was surprisingly good.
Devon watched keenly as she licked a bit of foam off her lips. “You’re torturing me,”
he said, his voice low and sultry. His hand slid to her arm. “You like?”
“I like.”
He turned to watch the bartender combine Chartreuse Green, lemon juice, and syrup in a shaker. With a flourish, he poured the drink into a tall tumbler and slid it across the bar.
Devon eyed the swampy green liquid with skepticism. “Reminds me of the time my new pool guy didn’t add enough chlorine.”
She grinned at him. “Cheers!”
She clinked her glass to his.
He took a swallow and grimaced. “Too sweet.”
He set the tumbler down, motioned to get the bartender’s attention, and ordered a dry Hendrix martini in replacement. “Sorry, Eve. I tried. But any dude who likes that melon garbage needs his man card revoked.”
“No green elevator for you, then?”
He looked into her eyes. “I’ll stick with the Golden Nugget Rush Tower.”
Eve recalled that time. A beep had punctuated his every thrust as the green numbers changed at the top of the steel door.
Thankfully, the bartender showed up with the gin martini, and Devon dropped the subject, taking out the steel pick and feeding her his olives.
The invitees had almost all arrived, and the room was now packed with well-dressed people shaking hands, making small talk, and milling about with drinks in hand. Palpable excitement filled the air, and Eve noted a wide range of ages, from elderly to middle-aged to young.
She swallowed the first olive, parting her lips to accept the second. “Who are these people?”
Carefully, he slid the empty pick out of her mouth. “A motley crew. Clients, investors, engineers, maintenance guys, and, most importantly, accomplished aviators, such as your favorite pilot.”
A young waitress in uniform approached, shouldering a loaded tray of canapés. Her gaze lasered in on Devon. “Bacon-wrapped scallops?”
Her outfit was a replica of a 1960s stewardess uniform: cute pillbox hat, navy suit, and gold airplane wings pinned to her lapel. A blue and gold scarf with airplane print was tied in a large bow at her throat.
“Bacon! Things are looking up.”
Devon flashed her his killer dimples. The waitress blushed as he helped himself to two toothpicks tipped with scallops, passing one to Eve.
“Thank you,”
she said, addressing both him and the young woman, who was lingering a tad too long at Devon’s side.
“Great uniform,”
he complimented warmly, looking her up and down.
She perked up. “Right? We just got them today. They kept it secret and all.”
Her eyes lowered to Devon’s black bow tie and lifted to his lips, and Eve could practically see her pupils dilate. “We had to put them on just before the doors opened,”
she informed him.
“All at the same time?”
Devon glanced around the room. Every waitress was young and gorgeous.
“Uh-huh.”
She tipped her head with a sly smile and finally moved on.
“Oh, to be a fly on that sweet wall,”
Devon muttered, watching her pert backside sway as she balanced her tray. “I’d trade my own wings for that fly’s.”
Eve chewed her delicate scallop, savoring the smoky flavor of the bacon. “What’s being unveiled tonight?”
Devon’s eyes lit up with an enthusiasm she saw only when he spoke of airplanes. “It’s a surprise. You will just have to wait and see.”
“But you know what it is?”
He nodded, looking like a kid at Christmas. “It’s quite remarkable.”
She was finishing the last drops of her fruity drink when something at the far end of the ballroom caught her eye.
Not something.
Someone.