Connor
My jacket cloaks Cat’s body, but I can still trace the outline of her curves through the thick wool. She tastes of olives, a subtle salt that only increases my thirst for more. The scent of roses invades my nose as I tangle a hand in her hair and tilt her head back.
She presses closer, and her whimper sparks a sudden hunger inside me.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
I pull back, let her catch her breath, then trail my lips down her jaw while inhaling more of that sweet scent at her neck. She bends toward me, pliant and loose as she sighs against my hair.
Damn, this woman’s even needier than I anticipated.
I’m not surprised Caterina Ricci had zero plans for New Year’s Eve or that she showed at the bar. She owed me my jacket, sure—and she wears it so well—but the recon I performed on her and her live-wire brother convinced me that she’d never decline the invitation.
She’s by the book. A serious businessperson, both in the art world and within the Ricci organization. Cat, as she calls herself, is an all-work, no-play woman.
And she desperately needs some fun. Considering she’s a joy to talk to and smoking hot, I’m more than happy to provide that service.
I’m going to transform all-business Cat into a loose party girl before the night’s over.
The pictures I found did her no justice. Photos don’t capture a person’s essence, and Cat’s dripping with sexual energy. Every time she slides one of those olives past those red lips, it takes all my willpower to keep from replacing it with my tongue.
She clearly would’ve let me.
Oh, yeah, she’s going to be a blast.
But work is work, and I’ve still got a job to do.
So even though I plan to enjoy the night, I’m mostly focused on Cat’s whip-smart mind, not her body.
I can’t help but sense that Cat’s a Ricci secret weapon or hidden gem.
Do they even know what they have? Can they see through the fact that she’s a woman?
I wouldn’t be shocked to learn they’re not utilizing her full potential.
That’s their loss and my gain, I guess.
I slip a hand around Cat’s neck, tugging her closer as my lips return to her mouth and my tongue tangles against hers. She utters a soft, sweet moan that I swallow with my own groan.
I pull back without releasing her silky curls. “Cat?”
“Yeah?” Her cheeks flush, and she blinks at me with shining, gold-flecked eyes.
“Happy New Year.”
She smiles, her lipstick smudged at the corner of her lips. “Happy New Year to you, too, Dane Ryder.”
The name almost annoys me.
She wants me, that’s for sure. But she wants Dane Ryder me, and I’m ready to shove that guy off the Empire State Building. I’d much rather hear her moaning Connor.
“What’s up with that expression?” She brushes her fingers along my collar. “What are you thinking?”
Careful, Connor.
I catch her hand and kiss a knuckle. Gotta play up the debonair act a little while longer. “Just wondering why you’re saying my full name.”
“Well, it’s a movie star name.” She grins a little. “Like Brad Pitt, Tom Hardy, Jamie Foxx, Dane Ryder… Can you hear it?”
A real laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
This woman’s too smart for her own good.
The fact that some part of her clocked my bullshit should irritate me, but instead, I’m more aroused than ever.
“Can I take you home?” I trail my hand down her back, tugging at the ends of her hair.
“I really don’t want this night to end.”
She shakes her head. “I have work.”
I thought she was kidding. “On New Year’s Day?”
“Even if the museum is closed, there’s still plenty to do.” She chews her bottom lip and then smiles. “This has been lovely, though.”
She said no but hesitated. I can work with that. “Cat.” I brush her mouth with mine, tasting the remnants of olives on her lips. “Stay up past bedtime. Just this once.” I tuck her hair away from her neck and plant a soft kiss below her ear. “I’ll show you a good time.”
She shivers under my touch, her lips parting in a silent gasp. My cock twitches at the sight.
I trail my mouth lower, feeling her pulse thump along her throat. “Surely you don’t really have work in the morning.”
She pushes me back, desire dancing in her eyes. “Okay. I keep a suite at the Desmond for when I have business in the city.” It’s a couple blocks up. A nightcap?”
I grin and pull my wallet out to pay for our drinks. “Perfect.” Perfectly annoying. I’d hoped for easy access to the Ricci estate since I’ve got to report to my father in the morning.
No matter. I’ll just get in another way later.
As we trudge the few blocks to the Desmond, the snow rubs our ankles. Despite the frigid air, alcohol and the promise of what’s to come warm me. I wrap my arm around her waist, pressing her heat against my side.
The Desmond’s sleek lobby of gold and black shimmers.
Chandeliers glitter over beige tile, and brown leather conversation sets furnish the common area.
The scent of cinnamon from leftover Christmas decorations hangs heavy in the air.
At the far end of the lobby, young receptionists dressed in black wait to check in guests, but Cat blows right past them.
She leads me straight to the elevators, up to the sixth floor, down a red-carpeted hallway, and finally through a heavy black door.
In the white-tiled foyer, Cat kicks off her shoes and flips on a couple of lights before walking deeper into her suite.
She heads to the kitchen and stops to stand near an island with a white marble waterfall countertop.
Behind her, glossy blue cabinets reflect her dark silhouette.
She dips her hand into a stainless steel wine cooler, pulls out a bottle, and pours us both a glass.
I can smell the earth tones from here. That’s one hell of a red.
Leaving my shoes by the door, I walk over to the caramel-colored leather couch and sit.
Her suite is posh and polished, with calm and relaxing neutral tones. A set of thick velvet curtains hides what must be a view of the city, and soft gray carpet covers the living space and disappears beneath the bed.
The room reminds me more of LA than anything else in this crowded city. Smells nice too. Like cherries.
I’ll have to tell my sister how this place compares to her hotel in Santa Monica.
But the art is what makes this room really stand out.
Loud, colorful, and abstract, it fills the otherwise bland space with vibrancy.
The Desmond didn’t decorate her walls. Caterina Ricci did.
Every wall bursts with artwork, and an especially large, energetic painting hangs above her four-poster bed.
From here, the blood-red bedding looks silky, and stacks of books pile on both bamboo nightstands.
I hope I’ll get a chance to investigate those.
You can discover a lot about a person based on what they read in their free time.
Cat travels halfway across the room with our stemless glasses before she sets them on a side table. She holds my gaze as she unzips her skirt and drops it to the floor, revealing sensible black bikini underwear. Stepping out of the fabric, she closes the distance and slides onto my lap.
Caterina Ricci straddles me, and my hands are on her in an instant. “This is surprising.” I drag my gaze over her body while gripping her tighter. “Your ass is fantastic.”
Her cheeks flush as she firmly plants herself on my dick. “Thank you.” She unbuttons the jacket she’s still wearing. “This is yours.” As she shimmies, the fine wool falls in a lump on the floor, but I couldn’t care less.
Those big, beautiful breasts hover just in front of me, covered by nothing but a thin layer of bra.
I plant my tongue on the base of her neck, licking and sucking my way down into her cleavage. “I can still taste the latte.”
She grins and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Clean it all up, Mr. Ryder.”
Oh, how I want to.
I don’t just take orders from anyone, though, and I can’t let her think she’s in control.
In this moment, I’ve got bigger concerns.
Unhooking her pink lacy bra, I take a stiff nipple into my mouth, sucking as I let go of her ass—reluctantly—and give her breasts the attention they deserve. My fingers tease, pinch, and roll one nipple as my mouth worships the other.
Cat sighs while carding her fingers through my hair. “Dane…” She grinds down on my cock, rubbing against me with a soft moan.
Her sexy noises shoot straight from my ears to my groin.
If I don’t lose these clothes, I’m going to get road rash on my fucking dick.
I release her nipple from between my teeth and crash my mouth onto hers as I grab two fistfuls of her ass and hoist us up to a standing position.
It’s time Cat understands who’s in charge here.
I toss her onto the bed and gesture at her underwear. “Lose those.” The fact that they don’t match her bra only spikes my desire. She wasn’t planning on going out on New Year’s Eve or getting laid.
Blood rushes to my cock at the thought.
I’ll give her a night to remember.
She sheds her panties. I drop my pants and boxers, exposing an erection hard enough to hammer nails.
She sucks in a breath, those hazel eyes wide. Sitting up, she wraps a hand around me and strokes my shaft.
“Cat.” I buck toward her touch, groaning softly.
This isn’t how the night’s going to go, though.
When I push down on her shoulder, she scoots back on the bed. Crawling onto the mattress, I slide my hands along her thighs. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk. Really ring in the new year.”
She turns away, half-hiding in the pillow. “You’re so lewd.”
I laugh and cup her cheek, pulling her back around to face me. “You love it.”
Her pretty lips pout, but she doesn’t deny the statement. Instead, she spreads her legs, her hands clenching in the sheets at her sides.
Beautiful and eager and just for me.
Yeah, screw the job. I’m going to enjoy this.
I trail my fingers over her thighs again. “Got protection?”
“The pill. Go ahead.” She closes her eyes, her breasts heaving in the yellow lamplight.
She’s so wet, so ready, and I glide right in with a low groan. She’s warm and tight and so fucking good. I’ve been busy for weeks now, so I haven’t had any time to blow off steam.
This is exactly what I needed.
“Cat…” I bend down to kiss her shoulder, my teeth scraping over her skin. “You feel incredible.”
She moans. “Dane…”
She spreads her thighs even wider, one leg hooking around my hip as I drive in deep. With slow, steady thrusts, I start pumping into her.
Nails dig into my shoulders as Cat tosses her head against the pillows. “Dane, shit…please, Dane, more…”
The name pinches my chest. How pathetic am I to be jealous of my own alias?
Fueling my irritation gets her what she wants. I fuck her harder and nip along her neck.
Soon, she’s not crying that fake name anymore. She’s breathless and flushed and moaning wordlessly, her hair haloing around her as she arches against me.
The image nearly catapults me over the edge.
I don’t lose myself, though. Not in work, and certainly not in bed. So she’ll come first.
I reach between us, my thumb finding her clit and massaging little circles in time with my rough, quick thrusts.
Cat gasps, digging her heel into my ass and dragging my cock deeper. “Dane, I’m going to…”
She cries out that douchebag’s name as she climaxes, her muscles trembling.
I despise Dane Ryder, but I love Cat’s pussy, so I orgasm right on the heels of hers, pulling out and shooting all over her olive-toned, rock-hard abs while she keeps shuddering through the waves of her own pleasure.
What a magnificent body she has. Curvy and muscular. Feminine and tough.
Just right.
I crash down on the bed beside her, panting.
Before we even say good night, Cat passes out. She’s asleep in minutes, curled up around a fluffy pillow.
As I reflect on the evening, I study her lush lashes, those rosy lips, her cute earlobes. Beneath a thin, diamond bracelet, a honeysuckle tattoo decorates the inside of her right wrist.
She didn’t say much about herself. She mentioned her family, briefly, while leaving out the whole mafia thing. Truthfully, I’m surprised she told me anything at all.
I gave her even less. I was honest about my mother loving art and encouraging my father to collect pieces, but I also implied she was still alive and I had two loving and supportive parents. Utter bs.
I guess Dan Ryder had a happier childhood than I did.
Playing make-believe over drinks was fun enough, but the appeal withered once we got to bed. I wanted to hear her scream my name. To roll her over, take her hard, smack her ass, and get a little rough.
To do what Dane Ryder wouldn’t. Because he’s a gentleman, I refrained.
I slip out of bed and into my clothes. Before disappearing into the night, I find a notepad and a pen. Dane’s not the kind of guy to fuck and run.
I had a great night, but I’ve got a five a.m. wakeup call. Life of an actor.
As I reread, I decide the message will make her smile. Then I sign “his” name all big and bubbly, scrawling it diagonally across the notepad like those ego-riddled A-listers do on headshots. Dane Ryder.
Once the door clicks shut behind me, I experience a strange tug in my chest.
Regret? Longing?
Maybe both, along with shock. That was the best date I’ve had since I figured out what to do with my dick.
Despite what my research indicated, Caterina Ricci is fun.
My mind wanders to Brody. Did he feel like this when he first met Trinity?
Or is this the ruse talking? The thrill of pulling off a con on a Ricci?
Cat’s already full of surprises.
And our time together is only beginning.