Chapter 12
Christian
The art of seduction was something I’d learned from my father as a teenager.
When most fathers were offering advice on the first fuck, mine had insisted I understand how much power was in the art of seduction. Or as he called it, the art of full domination. Body and soul.
He’d also taught me that if my heart was ever involved, the tables could and usually would be turned, leaving me the victim in a brutal game.
I’d taken his tutelage to heart, never once losing.
Daughters. Wives. Female enemies.
Even influential friends.
If handled well, what I gained from the days or weeks invested was well worth the effort and the money. If I handled the situation correctly, I’d at least be rewarded with physical satisfaction. If I was very good at what I did, I would leave the tryst with no hard feelings.
My success rate was high.
However, even at this point, I could tell spending time with Penelope would be different. This wasn’t like the others, more of a very personal game than about anything she could provide. Although I continued to pursue the knowledge about how she’d worked for Covington.
It was definitely something I couldn’t allow myself to forget.
This time, as the overwhelming urge to touch her washed over me, the direct result was tunnel vision. I’d partaken in small talk, acting as if I gave a damn about the beloved couple and their burgeoning life together.
I didn’t.
Perhaps some would call me jealous when I knew I was a pragmatist.
The divorce rate continued to climb and I knew enough about the groom to know he hadn’t even thought about a prenup. Why bother? The lovely girl was the love of his life.
Fool.
Penelope. I wondered if she ever went by Penny.
I focused all my attention on her even as a few potential clients had attempted to garner my attention.
With the DJ taking over briefly for the band, she’d been dancing rhythmically to music from a different era.
Every move was sinuous and free flowing, the dance itself providing her joy instead of the heavy drum beat of the music.
She was provocative, a seductress with both movement and her guileless smile. The woman was pure sin.
I weaved my way through the crowd toward the bar where she was standing. For once, she was all alone and from the way she smiled as if a very personal joke lingered in her mind, she was happy the pomp and circumstance of the evening had been concluded.
She was even more stunning than seeing her at the event weeks before. Yes, I’d enjoyed the sight of her naked body, but in several ways, I’d been watching a movie while the flesh and blood standing in front of me presented a gift, one beautifully packaged.
To her credit, the bride’s selection of bridesmaid dresses had been exceptional instead of cheesy. The deep violet dress was form fitting without detracting from the bride, low cut enough to accentuate any figure, yet leaving reason for a man to pause, curious as to the treat underneath.
With a waist-cinching design and silky material that appeared almost pearlescent in low-level lighting, the true surprise was the long slit exposing a gorgeous leg underneath.
I could enjoy admiring Penelope from afar for longer, but duty and desire screamed otherwise. Plus, Sebastian had already made it to third base.
Everyone knew I didn’t like to lose.
Just before I approached, she turned her head, glancing at the band, about to return to the stage after a short break.
“Macallan. Neat,” I told the bartender. Her perfume had already ignited the same darkness as from weeks before, the arousal pleasant if not daunting. Blue balls weren’t my objective.
As expected… No, as hoped, she slowly turned her head toward me.
“It was you.” Her words were deliberate, seductive, and not a question but merely a statement. A cause and effect.
With a slight shift of my body, I gave her my full attention. “Coffee girl. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Is it?”
“What do you mean?”
She lifted her martini glass, licking the rim. “Is this a surprise or a planned meeting?”
Women weren’t usually this direct, at least at the beginning. “I wish I could say that it was. And I do admit, I’m glad you don’t have a cup of scalding coffee in your hand.”
“Would you prefer I find a couple masks? Would that be better?”
“There is such a thing as mystery being a type of foreplay.”
“Ah, much like kissing a stranger wearing nothing but a teensy tiny towel. Right?” She took a sip, her long, dark eyelashes floating across the smooth porcelain of her cheeks.
“I feel honored you remember. I must admit, not an encounter that would be easy to forget.”
“Very smooth,” she murmured. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were following me. Perhaps even stalking me and know no one inside this room.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
Her smile was delightful. “Because I’m a keen observer and noticed you had a friendly conversation with the groom. If you were here on false pretenses, even Drake would have had you escorted out.”
“Even Drake?”
“He’s perpetually kind and forgiving.”
“Ah,” I murmured, taking the glass and sliding a hundred-dollar bill into the bartender’s tip glass. Which she noticed. She’d noticed me. Watching me. My balls were tight as drums. “Don’t underestimate my stalking abilities. I pride myself on going to any length to get what I want.”
“Duly noted.” The slight shift of her gaze, while subtle, provided me with confirmation she was very interested. Besides, it would be next to impossible to ignore the level of electricity coursing from one to the other. “This is the point I believe where it’s suggested we learn each other’s names.”
I flanked her side as she walked away, both remaining casual and noncommittal. “You don’t appreciate the mystery of not knowing?”
“I did weeks before. The stories I made up about you were delicious and decadently dark.”
“How fascinating. I’ve never had anyone talk about me using such terms.”
She stopped long enough to slide me a seductive look while her eyes held amusement. “Then I suspect the people you’ve chosen to hang out with don’t know you at all.”
My cock was already straining against my trousers. “Then please indulge me with your thoughts.”
“Let’s see.” She shifted her drink to her left hand so she could brush a strand of hair that had fallen into her face.
“You’re obviously wealthy. That took little more than noticing your brand of attire and the watch you wore, a different one every day.
But the dead giveaway was your choice in liquor.
Macallan isn’t for the faint of heart or those insisting on saving money. ”
“Nicely done. What else?”
“You don’t suffer fools, which means you’re in a position of authority.”
I stopped walking, laughing as I did. “You are very right about that. I cannot tolerate ineptness.”
“Understandable, although if I had to guess, I’d say your inability to tolerate mistakes or even boredom creates some loneliness.
Which you definitely will never admit to anyone you consider a friend.
And…” She laughed softly, a joke known only to herself.
“You have very few friends but are tight with them. But you get off on destroying all those you consider enemies.”
The woman was even more delightful than I’d initially believed. “You are extremely accurate. My turn.”
“Alright. Take your best shot.” Every time she licked the rim of the glass, I experienced a strong urge to shove her onto her knees, thrusting my cock inside her hot, wet mouth.
That would come later.
“Let’s see,” I said, starting slowly. “You’re very independent, so much so starting your own business was easy, natural. Yet you miss the power as only working closely with a team can provide.”
“I think that would be similar for anyone with a sole proprietorship just off the ground.” Was there a hint of disappointment in her voice?
“You’re right. You are atypical as a woman and I do not mean that in a derogatory way.”
“Go on.” We were walking closer to both the dance floor and a set of doors leading to the bank of elevators. Soon, a choice would need to be made.
“You tolerate the typical with dating, friendships, and especially in your work relationships. You don’t value trivial things like going shopping with the girls and certainly find a movie and dinner boring while on a date.
I daresay if a man suggested something so mundane, you’d write them off and not waste time waiting to see if your instincts were correct. ”
“Would I waste time going on the date or not?”
Her casual question was tossed out as if no big deal, but I knew better.
It was a test. If I had to guess, I’d say the number of them would equal the number of layers she’d carefully crafted around herself for protection.
I laughed honestly, which seemed easy to do around her.
“Absolutely not. You’d tell him to his face he wasn’t worth your time. ”
“Gosh. You make me sound like a bitch.”
I moved in front of her, keeping us on the cusp of making a decision. I had no intention of forcing her to do anything. I would win the first round only if she came with me willingly. “Which you find a compliment.”
For the first time, she appeared slightly embarrassed, the light flush not easy to distinguish in the light, but since I noticed everything, I easily sensed the difference.
“You’re right. Perhaps I’m the one who doesn’t suffer fools easily or at least willingly.” She briefly looked away, lost in a moment from the past. “Certainly not any longer.”
An admittance someone had hurt her, which in turn created another wave of anger.
Another moment of possessiveness.
“Admirable,” I told her, breaking through her disparaging thoughts.
“Not according to my friends.” Her sly smile had returned.
“I would guess the lady would prefer a grander gesture from anyone she might find interesting.”
“Perhaps. As long as it wasn’t dangerous or reckless.”
“I would think a lady with such seductive curiosity would enjoy a hint of recklessness.”
At least I was rewarded with a smile. “Perhaps. My choice.”