Chapter 10
On Monday morning, Summer gathered up some problem invoices and headed over to the shipping department to figure out what they’d really sent out on Friday.
She hadn’t talked with Knox last night. Maybe he hadn’t called because she’d never answered his text.
But then she wasn’t sure how she felt. Saturday night had been beyond incredible, beyond anything she’d ever experienced.
And she hadn’t even had sex with Knox. Except for the way he’d touched her on the dance floor, how hard he’d made her come.
But things just felt like they were moving too fast. In her entire her friends-with-benefit relationship with Paul, she’d never talked to him night after night.
They’d only called each other when they were on edge and needed relief.
The times they actually met for sex were few and far between.
It had been safer that way. And in three years, she hadn’t wanted more.
But after Saturday with Knox, she wanted so much more.
The problem wasn’t him, it was her, and it was terrifying.
She was actually starting to need him to the exclusion of anyone else.
She dreamed about him at night, woke up thinking about him in the morning, daydreamed about him all day.
So far, no one had noticed her distraction.
But how long could she keep up the pretense of giving her work her full attention?
How long could she keep her emotions about Knox at bay?
And how long before he figured out she was way too invested?
Even as many times as she’d told herself it wasn’t a relationship, that it was just really good sex, she had a hard time believing it.
When she asked herself what the harm was in craving really good sex, she knew the answer the moment she stepped outside the admin building and saw him crossing the parking lot from Manufacturing, making a beeline right for her.
He was so far away she shouldn’t have been able to see more than just a figure against the sunlight. But she knew that walk, that silhouette, that muscular body.
Her heart pounded, her skin buzzed, her breath quickened, and she was suddenly wet and shivery with need. All without exchanging a word. Her physical reactions rose from her thoughts, her memories, the echo of his voice in her ear.
“Good morning, Summer,” he said as he approached.
Her fears were telling her to run, but her needs rooted her to the spot.
“There’s no one here,” he said, his voice husky and reaching so deep she felt it in her core. “So I can tell you how fucking hot that was on Saturday. And how badly I want to touch you right now.”
With him standing two feet away, she went up in flames, waiting to see the smoke rising off her skin, to feel the searing heat of the fire.
“Do you want to know my plans for next Saturday?” he murmured, sending shivers through her body.
She forced herself to speak. “We don’t need to have an adventure every week. In fact, it’s probably bad for us. We should wait.”
“Heightening the anticipation?” he asked, his lips curled in a predatory smile as if he were a sleek, dark jaguar ready to pounce on her.
If holding off made it all so much more enticing, then yes, she agreed with him. It would also give her time to detach from the overwhelming ecstasy of it all. “We don’t want everything between us to become old hat. Maybe we shouldn’t even call each other every night.”
He smiled knowingly, as if understanding that she was desperately trying to keep her sanity around him. “So what, every other night, twice a week?” He smiled, and her temperature rose high enough to pop her thermometer.
Then he lowered his voice to something so sexy, so seductive, so hot, she almost came right then.
“But I can’t wait, Summer. I’ll go crazy if I don’t hear you every night.
And I’ll definitely be insane next Monday morning if you don’t need me on Saturday for the experience of a lifetime.
” His eyes gleamed as if he had his fingers on her, stroking her, making her need to come or die screaming.
“Won’t you go crazy if you don’t meet me for another date next weekend? ”
“This isn’t dating,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction. “It’s just phone sex.”
He shook his finger. “But feel how good it is even when we haven’t actually fucked yet. Holding off like this, teasing ourselves, it makes the desire so much more powerful. Don’t you agree?”
It was true. The more they talked, the more she wanted him, the more she dreamed about him, the more she craved his kiss, his touch, his cock in her mouth and inside her. “That’s why we shouldn’t talk every night. So we don’t get carried away.”
“I will call you tonight,” he seduced with his potent words. “I won’t be able to help myself.” His mouth cracked in a knowing half-smile. “You’ll have to be the strong one and not answer.”
She wasn’t strong enough. It was time to beg, no matter how much that told him. “Please don’t call me. Let me catch my breath.”
“If I don’t get to talk to you, then you have to agree to meet me on Saturday for another adventure.”
She wanted to say no. She wanted to scream out her frustration at her inability to turn him down. But her mouth said what her heart and body wanted. “All right. I’ll meet you. But you have to promise not to call me.”
“I promise.”
She wondered how she would survive this week without his voice making her come and sending her off into a blissful sleep.
As Knox watched her walk away, he wanted to tell himself that she was hooked.
But he was the one caught on her line. He was obsessed, willing to do anything to get her to agree to a meet next Saturday.
He’d even give up those glorious late-night phone calls, the amazing climaxes, and the sound of her voice driving him crazy.
But he would make it worth the wait, for both of them.
As he headed toward West Coast’s administration building, he was already making his plans.
And next Saturday night, he would make her his, in every sense of the word.
Monday night, she wished she could call Paul just to take the edge off.
But Paul couldn’t satisfy her craving for Knox.
She thought about calling Lee just to talk, but her best friend would tell her to cut off the relationship if she was so messed up about it. No way could Summer cut it off, even if it wasn’t a relationship and it was just sex.
On Wednesday, Spence Benedict called her into his office. “Is everything okay, Summer? You seem a little off your game this week.”
She had to lie and say, “Sorry, Spence. I’ve just got some stuff with one of my daughters. But I’m taking care of it. It doesn’t affect the work.”
She was absolutely letting this thing with Knox affect her work.
Paul called her on Friday. “I need some of your particular brand of TLC.”
“I thought you met someone at the wedding.”
“It didn’t work out,” he said with a woebegone sigh. “Tell me a story. Better yet, why don’t you come over?”
She couldn’t, not the sex talk, not the actual sex.
What she’d had with Paul wouldn’t work anymore; he wasn’t Knox.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve met someone.” It was the only lie—because she and Knox were just phone-sex buddies, not an I’ve-met-someone thing—she could think of that would work on Paul, especially since he’d used that reason on her so many times.
“You’re kidding. I thought your heart was immune.”
“Guess not,” she quipped, trying to sound lighthearted when she was anything but. “It’s been great. Thanks for everything.”
She didn’t even regret the end of what had been a good thing for a long while.
Because now there was only Knox.
Knox called her on Friday night. She’d been jittery all week, like an addict who hadn’t gotten her fix.
He’d done what he promised, left her alone, and yet her heart plummeted down to her toes when he said, “No phone sex for you tonight, naughty lady. I just have instructions for tomorrow.”
“Instructions?” she croaked.
“Yes, instructions. This time I’m picking you up. The place I’m taking you to isn’t the kind where you should hang around by yourself.”
“Then what kind of place is it?”
“It’s a surprise. But you’ll be safe with me.”
She was anything but safe with him.
“I want you to wear something sexy but not too revealing. Just a hint of cleavage. Short but nothing that shows your sweet hot ass. Tantalizing rather than putting it all out there.”
She heated at his instructions, but she said, “I can decide for myself what I’ll wear.”
“Since I know where we’re going and you don’t, I’m the better judge.” Then he added, “Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty tomorrow night. This place doesn’t get hopping until after ten. Now get lots of rest and drink lots of water. Nighty-nighty.”
He left her with the echo of his laughter.
Even as she texted him her address, she wondered why the hell she was doing what he told her to.
But she knew why. Because she was addicted and she wanted whatever he had planned for her.
She wanted him.
Her sexy red cocktail dress floated around her luscious thighs. As he opened the car door to usher her inside, the full effect slammed into him.
And he wanted to spread her legs and go down on her right here.
The keyhole of her long-sleeved dress opened just above her breasts, giving him a glimpse of the skin he craved, tantalizing enough to make him sweat, but keeping the best parts hidden, just as he’d instructed.
The dress’s back, however, was what would do him in.
It plunged to the base of her spine—though, as he’d instructed, not quite showing off her sweet hot ass.
And yet, if she leaned only slightly forward, he could fit his hands inside to stroke her breasts and tweak her pert nipples.
He'd jerked off this afternoon to take the edge off so he wouldn’t jump her the moment he saw her. But now, in only seconds, he was hard and panting for her.
He hadn’t panted for a woman like this in twenty years, not since he caught his wife Diane fucking another man.
He hadn’t let himself want any woman the way he’d wanted Diane.
Desire like that opened up a man’s heart for the slaughter.
And yet now, in middle age, he’d never wanted a woman more than he wanted Summer Gentry.
Not even his ex-wife.
He had to gain control of himself. Standing in the vee of the open car door, he hovered over her. “I’m not sure that dress classifies as not too revealing.”
As she looked up at him, he felt the heat in her gaze all the way down to his cock. Her voice stroked him with a sexy thrum. “My breasts aren’t falling out, and my bare essentials are appropriately covered. As per your instructions.”
The bare essentials. He recalled the fantasy he’d overheard that very first night. She’d been wearing a short, flirty red dress. And no panties. Christ, did this mean she was going commando? He wouldn’t survive the night. But he couldn’t let her know that. “It has no back.”
She smiled. “It has enough.”
That was enough for him to imagine standing behind her and slipping his hands inside that open plunge of silky material. He had a feeling that’s exactly the effect she wanted.
Shutting the car door, he rounded the hood and climbed in beside her, finding himself suddenly intoxicated with her subtly sweet scent.
Maybe he’d been hibernating for the last twenty years. Waiting for this moment. Waiting for her to set him free.
The exit he took off the freeway eventually led to a tree-lined road which narrowed to a quiet lane barely wide enough for two cars before it opened onto the lawn of a beautiful Gothic house, the moon shining behind it.
She turned him to him then. “What is this place?”
They’d barely said a word on the drive, and her voice startled him, his thoughts mired in the scent of her, the memory of her on that dance floor, the feel of his fingers against her sweet pussy. “It’s a special club I found just for you.”
“A club?”
He grinned at her. “You’ll see.”
He pulled into the underground garage. When the place was built, it probably hadn’t needed a garage, but over the years, its reputation had grown, and a simple parking lot would no longer do.
The parking garage wasn’t full. Yet. It was still early for this kind of exclusive club, which was no run-of-the-mill nightclub.
The cars here were probably worth over a hundred thousand each.
Bentleys and Jaguars, Maseratis and Ferraris.
He was sure some patrons arrived in chauffeured limos.
Pulling into a space, he told her, “Stay in your seat, and I’ll come round for you.”
“Why would you do that?”
After opening her door, he leaned in, blowing warm breath against her ear. “Because it’s the kind of elegant place where a man opens his woman’s door and she takes his arm as he escorts her into the house.”
He could almost feel her shiver.
The open back of her dress gaped slightly as he helped her climb out. While it afforded him a bounty of bare skin, she was right, it didn’t reveal the essentials.
She carried no purse, not even a clutch, which was a good thing. He didn’t want her to have to keep track of it. And she wouldn’t need it for the evening he had planned. Everything was already taken care of.
The double doors opened as they climbed the front steps, as if a camera showed a newcomer’s arrival.
Inside, an elegant couple greeted their guests on the checkerboard floor of the marble hall.
Neither was young, maybe his age, maybe a bit more.
The woman’s stunning peacock blue gown complemented her gorgeous red hair and accentuated her delicious curves.
Her name was Serena, and the man beside her, the club’s owner Jud McCord, Knox knew, stood tall and regal, his dark hair salted with gray.
Summer’s gaze traveled over their host’s impressive form, her lips parting with a hint of awe. Knox should have been jealous, but this couple was a matched set, beautiful in every way. McCord’s hand on the redhead’s back spoke of possession. They were partners in so much more than business.
A server offered a tray of champagne glasses, and both Knox and Summer took one.
Then McCord said in a deep voice, “Welcome to our club. Have you familiarized yourself with our house rules?”
Knox answered for both of them. “I’ve read them all.”
Serena gave him a smile sensual enough to make a man hard. If he didn’t have Summer on his arm. “Good,” she said. “Then please enjoy yourselves. And don’t forget to have fun.” Laughing softly, she looked at Summer. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Jud McCord smiled indulgently. “Understand that there’s not much Serena won’t do. So keep that in mind.”
Knox had to wonder how they made a life like this work.
Then McCord pointed to the wide, carpeted staircase with a flourish of his hand. And Knox led Summer into the depths of the house whose motto was: Anything goes.