Sexy Beast

  He breathes for a bit, and I think he’s fallen asleep before he speaks, a low rumble in my ear. “This is the first time I’ve slept with a woman in over a year. And I hope you don’t snore. Or cheat on me. But mostly…don’t snore.”

  And then he is asleep before I can ask just what the heck he meant by that last thought before bed.

  Chapter Eight

  The drapery panels are still open in the room the next morning, but some delightful contraption in the glass keeps the sun from glaring too hard when I open my eyes. The crystal peaks are gorgeous, looming in the distance.

  I look around and try to get my bearings. Yeah, I’m still in James’s bed—but there’s no sign of him. Before I have the chance to feel bereft, I see a slip of resort stationery on the pillow next to mine.

  Darcy,

  Duty calls down the mountain. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m sorry to have to leave you.

  I’ve asked Jillian to have your things moved to my room when you’re up and about today. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.

  James

  “’Comfortable,’ huh?” I laugh at that, and then flip over onto my back and read his note again. There are parts of me I didn’t even know I had that are tingling right now. Some that are even sore.

  What to do today? I make a quick call to Denny and the nurse, to make sure everything’s okay. He chides me for interrupting my “spa week” to bother him.

  “You’re sure you’re alright, Den?”

  “Darce, I’m never going to be all right again. But I’ll survive the weekend, how’s that?” He’s sarcastic until he hears my breath hitch. He can tell that his gallows humor is completely lost on me. “Seriously. I’m fine. We’re fine. Will you please just go get an extra massage or something? I want you to have a good time.”

  “I love you, Denny.”

  “Love you, too.” He hangs up first.

  James and Denny are a lot alike, if I’m honest. They both hate concern or coddling. But whereas somehow I knew that James didn’t like a soft touch and can curb the impulse to caretake, I can’t seem to help it with my brother. It strains both of us, I know.

  Nothing to do but follow his advice. I ring Jillian next and confirm that, yes, I would like to have my things moved to James’s room. And can I book a massage and wrap for this afternoon?

  I briefly contemplate the slopes as I plan my morning over a croissant and coffee. Maybe I should try a ski lesson while I’m here. But after thinking about it, I decide that’s something to plan for a different day—I don’t want to risk falling on my face or skiing off the mountain if I’m supposed to help with the entertaining the rest of the week. Treadmill and the spa it will be.

  Despite last night’s exertions, I have a nice run. I feel so good, I’m even lengthening my stride, exhilarated by the day. Maybe it’s the altitude. I have a feeling it has more to do with the dark-haired man I spent the night with.

  I know I overdid it a little when I’m stretching later, and I’m grateful I’ve got that massage planned.

  “Miss Ellis, I’m very sorry, but we somehow booked your wrap before your massage and now the techs are a bit scrambled. Rather than waste the wrap session, we can re-schedule it, or if you don’t mind waiting, I can arrange to have both services completed in your room later this evening.”

  “Oh, thank you, but no.” Having just moved into James’s room, I’m a little bashful to have anyone come see me there. I can’t imagine how he’d feel about it, and I’m worried it would seem like I’m bragging to the resort that we’re together. “I’ll steam for a bit and then keep the massage appointment, please.”

  The woman smiles and taps her screen quietly while I make my way over to the steam rooms. The room is hazy and hot, and I wander to the far corner to sit on the damp bench, enjoying the heat.

  Little by little, I feel myself begin to drift. Mindful not to fall asleep in the steam, I make myself sit up a bit and mentally review the previous night, wondering how the rest of the week will go.

  Client or no, I like James. No longer the rigid and frigid Ice King in my mind, now I can’t see him as anything other than…well, I don’t know.

  Giggling, the only thing I can think of is a volcano. He’s still a big rumbly mountain, but hot inside, rather than ice. Molten. Ready to erupt.

  I’m getting more than a little heated in the steam room when I hear voices echo. Two women make their way in, chatting.

  “…well, this place is exactly what she wanted it to be, that’s for sure.”

  “Poor Annette. It’s a shame she never saw it.”

  My ears prick when the woman says the name “Annette.”

  “I know. But not a shame she missed seeing the new girl,” the second woman sing-songs in the universal key for dirty gossip.

  “Oh Lord, I know! Beautiful, of course. And friendly enough in that sugar sweet I-know-your-husband-is-staring-at-my-ass sort of way. Annette is probably rolling in her grave.”

  The other woman lets out a rude raspberry noise. “She can keep rolling. Everyone knew she was running around on poor James.”

  The other woman gasps, and I hear a small smacking noise.

  “Ouch! You know it’s true!”

  “I know. But she’s dead. We have to be nice about it. Or at the very least talk nice about her.”

  I hear a dramatic sigh in acquiescence. “Okay, fine. But if we must be nice about her, we should also be nice about him. I’m glad the man is moving on. He was devastated when he finally got it together enough to confront her, and then the woman runs away with her lover and dies. James has locked himself away in this mountain prison trying to atone for it, and it wasn’t even his fault.”

  The women sigh as though overwhelmed by the tragedy of it all.

  The steam hisses in the vents. My heart is pounding.

  After a while, one of the women speaks up again. “You don’t actually think he’s going to stay with this one, though, do you?”

  “Well, maybe she’s just a Band-Aid. But, we know deep down he’s just a puppy. Or he wouldn’t have stayed with Annette so long.”

  “That wolf is a puppy? And The Rock is just a wrestler.”

  The woman sounds exasperated. “I doubt the arm candy is anything more. But I hope he does find some temporary happiness.”

  It’s sometime after midnight, and I’m sleeping, wrapped in the cloud-like comforter in James’s bed, when I feel the blanket peeled away and replaced with kisses on my ankle, the back of my knee, the curve just under my left buttock. I stir and arch up under the mouth tracing the small of my back. Kisses trail along my spine. I sleep nude, always have, and I’ve never been so glad before.

  I know it’s him. I don’t push up or do anything but feel behind me to take his hand in mine. I pull it back and tuck it under me, loving the feel of his chest pressing to my back as I kiss his knuckles and cradle his hand between my breasts. And then I feel the rest of him come down on me, heavy but heavenly, especially when I feel the hard prod of his arousal press my legs further apart.

  He pushes my hair off and away from my neck, replacing it with his face as he nuzzles into my shoulder. His skin is cold from being outside, the breath of snow still lingering in his clothes. But we’re both warming up fast.

  I feel him push up and away from me, only to come back a moment later, with no layers between us. And more kisses—to my neck, the back of my head, the shell of my ear. It’s tender and sweet. And it’s making me wet already.

  Maybe she’s just a Band-Aid.

  My heart jumped into my throat when I heard that brutal and frank exchange in the steam room. It mixed me up, learning the truth of James’s marriage, but also hearing the cold assessment of the two of us by strangers. I was so shaken, I slipped out of the room, hopefully without either of the women hearing or recognizing me. I hurried to dress and then I left the spa without a word. I completely forgot the massage I booked. I came back here, stripped, showered, and must have fallen asleep, because
I don’t remember anything else.

  I don’t know how to explain how their words made me feel. A little dirty. A little afraid. Or maybe just anxious. Since I arrived here, I haven’t been thinking about anything but the moment, the week. Nothing beyond what would please James. Or what pleased me.

  It pleased me to be his first lover since he lost his wife. It pleased me to break through some of his defenses. And it felt good to be exactly what someone needed for a change, rather than uncertain and struggling like I have been this whole past year since my brother’s wreck. Always coming up short. But not with James. Then today, confronted with the idea of his life beyond me, I don’t know what I’m feeling. The only way I can describe it is jealousy. Completely jealous of the woman who will come after me, whoever she will be. I’m not jealous of the idea of anything before I met him, but irrationally, I’m jealous that soon I’ll be gone, and James will find the pleasure he’s found with me, with someone else.

  I’m snapped out of my thoughts when he flips me over, pressing his mouth to mine. As he kisses me, I feel the weight of his erection brush my hip before he reaches down between us to adjust the heavy weight, and then I feel him pushed against my thigh. Lazily, I curl my arms around his neck, pulling him down atop me. He rubs his cock between my thighs, and I shift my hips, desperate to rub his long, stiff cock against my pussy. I gasp as his thick head rubs between my lips. Then, with none of the reserve of last time, James positions himself at my entrance, and he pushes inside.

  Feeling him fill me up is at once new and thrilling, but also immediately familiar, like he’s home. Or I am. He kisses me just as I cry out, and the sound is lost in his mouth. I feel swollen and stretched around him, beyond full. My head spins as he buries his face in my neck, and I breathe him in.

  He pulls my hair back, exposing my neck to his mouth, and lowers his body to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He laughs when I squeal, and I squeeze my pussy tight around his cock in retaliation. Then it’s my turn to chuckle with satisfaction when he feels the pulse and throws his head back. He looks at me sharply when he hears the satisfied sound.

  “Oh, yeah?” he asks, smiling down at me.

  “Yeah,” I say, grinning back, challenging him.

  “Fine,” he says, and then he’s rolling hard to the side, expertly taking me with him. On top of him suddenly, impaled, I gasp hard and grit my teeth at the incredible sensation. His grin is still in place as he palms my breasts and pushes me to sit up on him.

  “Ride me.”

  “Gladly.” I grit the word out, but I’m bluffing. Riding him, feeling how deep he is inside me like this, is so intense, I can barely catch my breath. I roll my hips once, and then falter, digging my nails into his chest as I moan with the pleasure that’s starting to send tremors through me. It’s only the white gleam of his teeth and the triumphant grin that gets me back in the saddle. I gather the strength in my thighs and squeeze him tight. He clenches his eyes shut at the feeling of me all around him, and his hands drop from my breasts to my hips, lightly urging me on.

  I raise my body slightly, bouncing the smallest bit until I see his mouth fall open. Smiling, I push up as high as I can for a moment, and then savor the slow ride down, feeling every inch of his cock fill me up again. My head feels light as I do it again, and once more. A third time and I feel James’s hands cupping my breasts again, catching the bounce and plucking at my hard nipples. Then his hands are back on my hips, pulling me down hard and pushing up into me at the same time. Just like that, he’s in charge again, and I love it. My mind goes blank as I gasp at the overwhelming bliss of being fucked hard.

  You don’t actually think he’s going to stay with this one, though, do you?

  My eyes pop open. James’s head is thrown back now, and I’m watching him get closer, closer. Just like the night we danced, I let him show me what to do, how to move with him. He sets a decadently slow pace. I lean back and look down my body to where his cock is pushing in and out of me. His breathing has picked up, and then I feel his cock swell, and I know he’s going to come. In that moment, I feel powerful and proud. I want everything he’s doing to me. I want to be everything he wants.

  With that thought, I close my eyes and feel him throb inside me, and we come together.

  It takes all the strength I have to move off him when we’re finished. I collapse, and James lies flat on his back, breathing like he’s run a marathon. I’m feeling especially smug about that, even though I’m just as out of breath as he is.

  After a few long moments, he turns his head in my direction, smiling at me even as his eyes are mostly closed.

  “I missed you too,” he says, still puffing.

  I try to focus on finding my breath, but it’s hard when I’m giggling.

  After a few minutes, he lifts his head and squints. “Christ, what time is it?”

  I raise my head at the wall clock across the room. “Hmm. It’s 4:50.”

  He groans and sits up, shaking his head like a dog. A puppy, a voice whispers.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I have to go.”

  I tilt my head and look up at him from the pillow.

  He looks back on the bed and reaches for me. Touches my cheek, my neck. “I don’t want to. And I’ll be back. But I have meetings all day.”

  I nip at his fingers, and he pulls them back. I tell myself not to read into the look on his face. Ignore any softness in his eyes.

  I hope he does find some happiness.

  I hope he does, too.

  He’s looking at me quizzically. I must have been quiet too long. To cover, I smile slyly and flip over onto the pillow, peeking up at him smugly. “Sucks to be you. I guess I’ll just try to keep this nice big bed warm all by myself then.”

  James narrows his eyes in mock disgust and hits me with a pillow.

  Chapter Nine

  “Darcy? Is everything okay?”

  I close the door behind me and advance on him with a sly grin.

  I was gently but firmly turned away when I first approached his assistant’s desk by the same formidable woman who gave me the once-over the first day I arrived. I had to resort to a little bit of creative phone calling, courtesy of Jillian, to lure the battle-ax away, and then I let myself into James’s office.

  Now I saunter to his desk. “Why wouldn’t everything be okay, James?”

  He doesn’t answer, just narrows his eyes at me suspiciously. I hold my breath until I see the faint ghost of a smile on his lips. He knows something’s up.

  Or it very soon will be, if I have my way.

  He makes a move to rise from his desk chair, but I hold my hand up.

  “No, no. Stay there, please.” I take a moment to look him up and down like an object. I’m glad he started toward me, but I find I want him to stay seated.

  Left to my own devices in his room this morning, the memory of those women from the steam room stayed in my head. And they were right. After this week is over, I will walk out of here. With money, I guess. But without him. I’m not naïve or stupid. I didn’t take this escort job believing one of my clients would be this fairytale savior or lover. I’m here to do a job. But…I’ve let my feelings enter the picture. Attached, emotional, whatever you want to call it, I care about whether he’ll will move on to something good and move past his demons. So if this is all I can do for him, fine. If this is all I’m going to have of him, I’m making it my business to break down this last door.

  I circle the massive wood desk and stand right by him, looking down at his handsome face.

  “Stay seated,” I command.

  James is not a man who’s used to being told what to do. He obeys my firm “request” and relaxes into his chair, but I can see the tension in his body, even feel it when I drop to my knees in front of his chair and rest my hands on his thighs.

  “I’m going to make an observation,” I say, still on my knees. While I’m talking, I make sure my movements are brisk and business-like, so he’ll be less likely to p
rotest. I reach for his belt. “Are you ready?”

  “Am I ready?” James repeats, bemused.

  A brisk tug, and the belt is free. I lower the zipper on his fly. He’s cooperating, but slower now, realizing what I’m doing. He makes a half-hearted attempt to stop me. “We can do this a minute, maybe, but I have a meeting. Many meetings.”

  “Excuse me. You’re interrupting my observation.”

  “Sorry,” he says, and at my urging, lifts his hips so I can slide his pants and boxer briefs down. I hook his boxer briefs behind his cock and balls, and James grins as he looks down. His half-hard in my hand and thickening fast. A drop of precum pearls atop the tip when I start to stroking it.

  “My observation is this. You don’t let yourself come unless I come, too. I wonder why that is?” I lean in low and wrap my mouth around his cock, and then look up at him. We haven’t done this yet.

  His mouth falls open a little, but he doesn’t stop me. I suck him deeper as a reward. He exhales hard then, and I tease—playing, nibbling along the head, the shaft, sucking his cock halfway into my mouth again, then easing him out, inch by inch.

  He threads his fingers into my hair, leaning his head back. “I’m a gentleman,” he says in answer to my question.

  I hum around his cock and then take it all the way in, swallowing carefully before I ease it back out.

  “Christ! Darcy.”

  “Let me show you what I think about gentlemen.”

  I start to suck and lick in earnest. James leans his head against the back of his chair, and his body stiffens as I suck him, shallow so my tongue teases the rim of his head, and then deep into the back of my throat. When his cock stiffens and I can taste him leaking precum, I feel his thighs tense.

  “Darcy. Hey. Stop. Let me fuck you now.”

  “Hmm-mm.”

  “Now, Darcy.” His hand tightens in my hair. “ Give me your—” he tries to pull at my arms, leaning over to lift me up, but I refuse.