Taking Charge by Lily Harlem – Sample

Chapter One

Sheena Nichols stared at the screen in front of her. The frozen image of Julian—no surname—returned her gaze.

In his photograph he wore a smart tuxedo, the bow tie dead straight and the black material of the suit gleaming. He was clean-shaven, he had his chin tilted upward, and his hair was the colour of the sky on the darkest night. But it was his eyes that captivated her the most. They were narrowed but she guessed they were dark brown, and his lashes were long. They didn’t appear to hold humour, or even fun, only a serious determination to be the best of the best.

Which is exactly why she’d hired him to service her that night. She wanted the best of the best. Someone who would take her pleasure seriously and demand top results.

And her submission?

It was that part of his resume that had intrigued her the most. She’d paid for escorts and sex before. Why the hell not? She was too busy to date. Being a member of parliament did that to a woman. Flitting between Westminster and her constituency made time her most valuable commodity. It meant getting any decent action in the bedroom was the hardest thing of all to fit into her timetable.

Until, that was, she’d stumbled across Discreet Desires and a whole new world had opened up.

She hoped another door in that world was just about to open too, and reveal a whole new set of pleasures—even if she was nervous about it.

“Hey, Sheena, you okay if I head home?”

Quickly Sheena minimized the screen, shrinking her date for that night into the corner. “Er, yes, of course, Kate. Thanks for all your help on those proposals earlier, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.” Kate turned, her maxi handbag already over her shoulder. She’d be going home to her two kids and her husband. If she wanted to get fucked that night then she could. She had a hot, willing guy in her bed to get down and dirty with and snuggle up with. It was something so many women took for granted.

Not that Sheena was much into the cuddles, not right now. She had other needs to be met—ones her vibrator wasn’t even getting close to.

She had one last look at Julian, then closed down her laptop.

It was dark outside, a blanket of heavy clouds meant the November evening had settled in early. With it came the amber glow of streetlamps and the constant flow of headlights on the London roads.

But the Palace of Westminster was a beautiful place to work. Every room ornate in some way, and each with fascinating history. Her office looked out over Millbank and she could just see the abbey from a side window. It never failed to thrill her. She was one lucky woman, not just to have been elected but also to work in such a wonderful building.

Though of course being ‘elected’ made dabbling with male escorts even more of a risk. If her voters found out she had to resort to paying for sex, would they still want her? She had a strong suspicion the answer to that question was no. If it were one of her male counterparts seeking out fun with prostitutes, it would be a headline-making scandal. But even so, she felt it was worth the risk.

As she flicked off the overhead light and headed down the corridor—gilded with gold paint and holding portraits dating back centuries—a thrill went through her. She’d come to accept she thrived on the risk of booking an evening with Discreet Desires. They’d lived up to their name so far. The whole process was completely confidential, and if the other two men she’d hired had recognized her, they’d said nothing either during their time together or afterward. Which was just as well, she was paying top price for their professionalism and their silence.

Oh, and professional they’d been. Both times she’d enjoyed a meal, champagne, and several orgasms. Discreet Desires either had a rigorous training programme for their escorts, or they knew how to spot talent.

The air was cool on her cheeks as she headed to her car; there was a hint of dampness and she guessed it would soon rain.

As she started her engine and went through the barrier, nodding at security as she did so, her heart rate picked up. Julian was different, she was sure of it. She’d tried vanilla, it had been fun, but now she was looking forward to a Friday night with a sprinkle of spice—kink on the menu would suit her well.

And why not? She found time to work out at the gym and had a toned body. She was a little on the short side, and longed for a lustrous, curly hairstyle, rather than the short easy-to-manage one she’d opted for, but damn it, she was in the prime of her life and should at least be appreciated, naked, on occasion. Because at this rate by the time she got a husband she’d be old and grey and would have to show him photographs of ‘when she was hot.’

Instead of turning toward Chelsea, which was home, Sheena made her way toward Hyde Park. Rain spots tapped onto the windscreen and she turned on her wipers. The rhythmic swish, swish soothed her nerves.

She’d booked a suite at The Grosvenor House Hotel, one of her favourites in the city. And with her overnight bag in the back of the car, she intended to have a soak in the bath, a glass of wine, and prepare for Julian, who was due to knock on room seventy-one at nine o’clock.

She’d asked for that suite specifically, having stayed there before. It was at the top of the building and the view over Hyde Park was breath-taking. It had a separate lounge and dining area and an extra-large bathroom with Jacuzzi. She appreciated the décor at The Grosvenor. They’d stuck with plush traditional in chocolates, golds, and rich orange and greens. The furniture was dark and highly polished with many antique pieces. There was always an abundance of plants around too, with long fronds and glossy leaves.

Pulling up at the entrance, she handed the keys to the valet, and with her bag in hand, stepped through the huge brass doors. “Thank you,” she said to the doorman.

As she walked into the reception area, the sweet scent of jasmine swirled around her. She paused and took a deep breath.

This was where her night would start.

A shiver of anticipation wound its way up her spine. When Julian came through these doors later, no one would have any idea who he was or what services he’d come to perform.

In his pristine suit, and no doubt smelling divine, he’d walk with his chin held high and confidence oozing from him. A little part of Sheena wished she could be there to see everyone else turn to look at him, admire him.

But of course that couldn’t happen. Being seen with a man whose company—his naked company—she’d paid for really was too big a risk. Besides, she’d be upstairs, ready, waiting… hoping.

“Good evening,” the receptionist said.

Sheena was dragged from her daydream. “Ah, yes, hello.” She set down her bag, gave her name, and handed over her credit card.

When she’d been checked in, she slotted the key into her jacket pocket. “I’d like to order a meal in the room, for 9.30 if that’s okay.”

“Certainly, madam. There’s a full menu in the room, just call the kitchen. And if you want any drinks with that, add it onto your order.”

“Perfect.” Sheena smiled and picked up her bag.

As she rode the lift to the seventh floor, she wondered what to order for Julian. She’d gotten lucky the other times with steak and lobster, but what if Julian was a vegetarian, or had a seafood allergy?

The lift pinged and the door slid open.

An elderly couple nodded at her and stepped in.

Sheena smiled and alighted. The woman was staring at her. She’d obviously been recognized. But that was okay; there was no reason why she shouldn’t be staying in a London hotel tonight.

Her room was comfortingly familiar, and after shutting the door and the curtains, Sheena ran her hand over the silky burnt-orange eiderdown. This bed had been the place of much pleasure.

An image of her riding her first escort hard came to mind. And then the second one, who was happy to spend what had felt like hours between her legs, licking her until she was thoroughly satisfied and absolutely exhausted.

What will tonight bring?

She checked her iPhone. There was a message from Discreet Desires.

Your selected purchase will be with you as planned.

Have a lovely evening and thank you for using our service.

Smiling, she hit delete. The last thing she wanted was for Kate or anyone else to see that message and start asking exactly what her purchase had been.

The digital clock by the bed told her it had just gone eight o’clock. She had an hour, which was plenty of time. Being someone who was always in a rush, squeezing something into every minute of every day, an hour to herself was absolute luxury.

She set the bath running, pouring in both bottles of expensive-smelling foam for good measure. After a quick glance through the menu, she decided to stick with steak and lobster and hope for the best. She rang down her order, adding a bottle of champagne to her list of requirements.

The creamy hot water was silky on her skin as she sank into it. She sighed and rested her head back, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths. It was time to stop rushing about and allow herself, and her body, a few indulgences.

She took a sip from a glass of white wine she’d helped herself to from the mini bar, and flicked the Jacuzzi on.

The whirr and whirl of water chugged through the tub and bloomed around her. The foam rose a little, covering her breasts, and she giggled.

Sheena Nichols, the politician, the serious, confident, in-control woman who talked of policies and mandates and fought for justice, had left the room. Now she was simply Sheena, who had needs, found laughing easy to come by, and wanted a man to fill her night with fantasies come true.

Chapter Two

And fantasies Sheena had by the bucketful. As she lay back in the fizzing water, allowing a particularly hard current to massage her spine, she thought of a book she’d recently read. It had been about a woman submitting to a man. She’d called him Sir and Master, and been happy to follow his every instruction.

He’d been kind and caring and generous with his delivery of orgasms, but equally he’d been quick to punish her for disobedience. He’d spanked her with a paddle, bound her wrists, and forced her to her knees so he could use her mouth. There’d been another scene where he’d taken a flogger to her ass while she’d had a butt plug in there.

Sheena squirmed. As she’d read some of the scenes she’d been so turned on she’d had to reach for her vibrator. The writing was so hot, and so intense. And although there’d been pain for the protagonist, there’d also been plenty of pleasure.

Julian is attentive, experienced, and well-travelled. He also has a keen interest in BDSM and will adapt to his submissive’s experience and needs.

That was all it had said on his profile. Just a single line, at the base of a paragraph stating his age—thirty-four, eye colour—brown, height—five feet eleven, and orientation—straight.

The other male escorts had half a page in their own words, showing some of their personalities. Talking about their hobbies, their love of life, willingness to put their dates at ease and have a laugh, up for anything, one had said. But not Julian; it was clear someone else had written his two-line resume and although it hadn’t given much away, it had seriously sparked Sheena’s imagination.

Had a woman at the agency written it? Did she know he was good at adapting to his submissive’s experience and needs because she’d sampled his skills first hand?

The thought made Sheena both jealous and excited. She had no right to be possessive over this man she’d never met. Yet tonight he was hers and she’d paid a hefty price for the privilege. She didn’t want him thinking about anyone else while he was on her time.

She finished the last of her wine, soaped up, rinsed, then switched off the bubbles. Nice as it was to lounge around thinking about the evening ahead, she really did have to get ready for it.

She climbed out and dried off. Her body cream was peach-scented and she applied it liberally then added deodorant and brushed her teeth.

The deep pile carpet was luxurious to walk on as she made her way to her overnight bag. As on previous date nights, she planned to wear sexy red underwear and a little black dress. This time though she was adding a suspender belt and fishnet stockings—a treat buy from an exclusive boutique in Knightsbridge. Okay, it wasn’t the leather and PVC a man like Julian was probably used to, but it was as daring as she was going to go… for now.

She dressed and studied herself in the reflection. With strappy black heels in place her legs looked longer and the dress was flattering, cinching in her waist and showing off the slight cleavage her push-up bra gave her. “You’ll do.”

She smiled and went to the dresser. Her hair was a little damp but after a quick brush it came back to life. An expensive cut could do that. Again her stomach did a flip of excitement as she reached for a new lipstick. Devil’s Temptation it was called and was the reddest red she’d ever seen. Application had to be performed with painstaking precision otherwise it became a mess. Steadying her hand, she swept it carefully over her lips, then pressed them together.

Perfect.

After a squirt of the perfume Kate had bought her for her birthday—containing notes of lavender, Neroli, and bergamot—she was all set for her ‘dinner date.’

That’s what it had been sold as.

Dinner date.

Julian was accompanying her for dinner. That was the deal. If nothing else happened she wouldn’t be able to complain or ask for her money back. But it would happen, something else, she was sure of it. It had on the other two occasions and she’d hardly had to ask, only hint she’d been horny. It seemed the male escorts at Discreet Desires were open to working between the lines, or should that be between the sheets.

Knock. Knock.

Her knees weakened, and her heart rate picked up. He was here. She spun to check the clock.

It was exactly nine.

Where had the time gone? Thank goodness she was ready.

Glancing around the room, she checked for anything lying around she didn’t want him to see. But all was good. She’d hung her office suit up in the wardrobe and tidied the dressing table as she went.

After switching on the bedside lamp and one in the living area, she went to the door and flicked off the bright overhead lights.

“Be cool, Sheena.” She slid her hand over her waist and hips then plucked a scrap of lint from the material.

Pausing, she peered through the spyhole.

Her breath caught.

Damn, the guy was even more gorgeous than she’d expected, and that was seeing him distorted by the concave glass.

The smile she set on her face was automatic—the one she used for greeting her constituency or the press—as she opened the door.

“Sheena?” he said, his voice low and smooth.

“Yes, and you’re Julian?”

“I am, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He inclined his head.

His dark hair was a little long but neatly brushed, there was a parting on the right side. Like in his photograph, he was clean-shaven, and he wore a black suit, with black tie and white shirt. What his photograph couldn’t have told her was how good he smelled, or how piercing his eyes were once their attention was harnessed, or how the deep rumble of his voice would make her insides quiver and her nipples tingle.

“Are you going to invite me in?” he asked, the right side of his mouth lifting into a half smile. “Or are we going out?”

“No, in and… I… er… yes, of course. Please, this way.” She opened the door wider and stepped back so he could enter the suite.

“I brought you these.” He turned and held up a bunch of roses.

They were tight buds in a mixture of colours—red, yellow, lavender, orange, white—encased in delicate black tissue paper that frothed around them.

“They’re beautiful.” She shut the door and reached for the base of the flowers. “Thank you.”

But he didn’t hand them to her. “The colour of roses is very symbolic.”

“Yes. Red is for love, yellow friendship…” She wasn’t sure of any of the others.

“Red is also for passion.” He touched the tip of an orange bud. “And this is desire, lavender is enchantment, and white is female. Yellow, as you say, is friendship.”

“I didn’t know them all.” She smiled as he finally handed them to her. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted you to know that passion, desire, enchantment, and feeling very much a woman is going to be part of your evening. Plus… I hope we’ll be friends.”

Whoa! He was too smooth. A flush of heat went over her cheeks and she was glad of the dimmed lighting. “I… I’m pleased about that. All of it. And yes, friends is good.”

He smiled, as though amused by her reaction. “You’ve already enchanted me.”

“Oh, come on.” She giggled.

He chuckled. “We’re staying in, you said.”

“Yes. Is that okay?”

“But you’re all dressed up.”

“So are you.” She shrugged and then wished she hadn’t. He was making her flustered, she didn’t know why. Maybe it was his eyes or perhaps it was the way he seemed to fill the room with so much more than his physical presence. There was a magnetism to him, an energy surrounding him.

“Then I guess we’ve dressed up for each other,” he said. “Though it’s a shame not to be showing you off and to have other men jealous of me. I’d enjoy that. Knowing your mine, all mine.”

She opened her mouth to speak then shut it again.

“I only speak the truth; you should know that now about me.”

“Thank you, Julian. I appreciate it, and the truth is a good starting point.”

“Indeed.”

“I’ve ordered dinner.” She stepped past him, went into the bathroom, and set the flowers into the sink. She added some water to cover the base of the stems. “I hope you like steak and lobster,” she called.

“Perfect.”

She quickly checked her reflection again, scowled at the tint of red on her cheeks, then went back into the suite.

Julian had wandered over to the curtains and pulled one aside to expose the rain-spotted view.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“I never tire of the London skyline whatever the weather.”

“Are you from London?” She studied his back view. His jacket showed off his wide shoulders, neat waist and stopped just past his buttocks. His legs were long and slim and he wore polished black shoes.

“Not originally.” He shut the curtain again and turned. “But I’ve been here a long time now.”

“And is this your only job?”

He stepped up to her and tipped his head a little as he studied her. “No.”

She was silent, wondering if he would elaborate.

He didn’t. Instead he smiled and cupped her jawline. “Have you heard of mindfulness?”

She leaned into his touch, just a little. His palm was warm and his fingers firm on her skin. “No.”

He stroked his thumb over her flesh. “It’s all about being in the moment, letting everything else, past and future leave your mind.”

“I see.”

“It’s important to learn how to appreciate each and every second and not always be scrabbling for the next thing or being lost in the past.”

She nodded.

He dropped his hand but continued to study her. “The best way to begin the practice of mindfulness is to acknowledge the senses. Let scents settle in your nose and really notice them, the same with sights and sounds.” He paused. “And of course taste and touch. Every flavour, even that of the air around us, and its touch on your skin should be greeted as part of you.”

His scent was certainly swirling in her nose and lacing her tongue. And where he’d just touched her cheek her skin tingled, the heat of his fingers lingering.

“As you begin to accept the moment everything else fades into the distance. It’s so rare that we allow ourselves to be fully present, don’t you think?”

“I guess.”

He stepped away and slipped off his jacket. He laid it on the back of the dressing table chair then undid his right cuff and began to roll up the sleeve. “Tonight I want us to both keep coming back to mindfulness. There is only the here and now. The food we eat, the textures and temperature of this room, the way we make each other feel.”

Sheena was mesmerized by the way he was neatly rolling his sleeves. Each turn perfectly even as he exposed hair-coated forearms. “The way we make each other feel,” she repeated.

“Yes.” Finished with his sleeves, he tugged at his tie, releasing the knot.

Her mouth was a little dry, her shoulders tense, as he pulled the silky length of material free.

What’s he doing? Getting naked already? Is he going to use that as bondage? Are we jumping straight in with the tying up and whipping?

A tremble of both excitement and nerves went through her. She wasn’t sure how ready she was for being pinned down and flogged.

“It’s warm in here,” he said, placing the tie next to his jacket. He undid the top two buttons on his shirt and ran his finger around the collar. “You don’t mind me getting comfortable, do you? Seeing as we’re staying in.”

“No, of course not.” The way his shirt hugged his long, lean torso was mesmerizing, as was the small amount of body hair she could see peeking out from where he’d undone it. “I want you to feel comfortable, at home.”

“Thank you.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“That will be dinner. It’s early.” She glanced at the door, then at him and finally at the table.

He nodded at the en suite. “Do you mind if I freshen up before dinner?”

“Please.” Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Go ahead.”

Chapter Three

Julian smiled at the pretty woman before him. He recognized her from the television. Not from a movie or show, but a documentary… no… not that… he’d seen her on the news.

Only then she’d been in a formal suit, her makeup understated and her hair worn tight against her head. Now she was vampish in a little black dress that hugged her curves, fishnet stockings—something that always yanked his chain—and her plumped-up hair and flushed face; it was as if she’d come alive.

Sheena Nichols, Member of Parliament.

Yes, he’d seen her on the news many times. Standing in front of the House of Commons giving interviews to the BBC and Sky News. He couldn’t remember the details of her role, but she was a little powerhouse in political circles, he knew that much.

And tonight she was his.

All his.

What an absolute delight.

He stepped past her, toward the en suite, enjoying the sultry scent of her perfume. Experience had taught him that being out of sight when hotel staff came to the door was the best course of action. That way, his client wouldn’t worry about gossip. The agency wasn’t called Discreet Desires for nothing. Understanding confidentiality, privacy, and being inconspicuous was essential.

As was ensuring one hundred percent satisfaction.

He slipped into the vast en suite. The floor was marble, as was the counter set with two washbasins. The huge whirlpool bath still held a few bubbles around the plughole. Clearly she’d enjoyed a soak before he’d arrived.

He smiled, pleased the evening had started early for her.

The rattle of a trolley and voices came from outside as he washed his hands then dried them. He heard her giving instructions, her voice authoritative and confident the way it had been on the TV.

A delicious kernel of anticipation popped inside him. Clearly Sheena was a woman who liked to take control, be the one dishing out commands, not taking them.

Yet she’d picked him to be her escort. With his one line statement on the website about BDSM it was obvious she had an interest in it. He didn’t take her to be an expert or experienced in the lifestyle. Likely she just wanted to dip her toe in and see what it was like. Well, she’d come to the right place. He was the man for the job.

He checked his hair, passing the time. He was impatient to get the evening rolling now. A submissive who was a strong, independent, feisty woman in her day to day life was always so much more fun to dominate. He didn’t want to break her will. What delighted him was seeing a sub zone out and be aware only of him and what he was doing to her body. Watching the need for pleasure and release build. Become pliant emotionally and physically, allowing him to take the reins, make the decisions and ultimately bring them back down to Earth.

The door shut with a solid click.

Immediately Julian stepped into the suite.

The scent of the dinner wafted toward him. He was hungry. He’d grabbed a sandwich on his flight that afternoon, but other than that he hadn’t eaten since a business breakfast on the Champs Elysees.

Sheena was in the section of the suite set apart from the bedroom area. She was lighting a white tapered candle standing tall in a pewter holder. Behind her a large gilt framed oil painting depicted a countryside landscape with a stately home nestled in hills.

The table was set with white linen, three silver domes sat atop it and in a bucket at the side, a bottle of champagne, the neck draped in a white napkin.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, looking up as he walked into the room.

“Yes, very.” He nodded at the curtains. “Would you mind if we opened them?”

“Go ahead.” She returned her attention to the table.

Julian pulled back the curtains. Raindrops peppered the window, but for him it added to the magic of the sprawling city. Everything seemed to sparkle, and the lights had a glittery aurora.

“Would you do the honours with the cork,” Sheena said.

He turned and surveyed her. She hadn’t spoken as if asking a question. It had been an order. One she expected to be obeyed.

The dom in Julian bristled. It would be the last order she’d give him. Paying client or not, Julian Roath, CEO of Armandi Air Travel International, didn’t take instructions from anyone, let alone a woman who was to be his submissive for the night, no matter how inexperienced she was.

Without saying a word, he lifted the bottle from the bucket. Ice clattered and several cold drips landed on the carpet. Her inexperience in BDSM was blatantly obvious—the elephant in the room. But he’d soon change that. He’d have to tread carefully, though, make sure she got her money’s worth in the pleasure department and learnt a few things. He prided himself in being a five-star escort with no complaints… ever.

And he was up for the Sheena Nichols challenge. A challenge was one thing he never walked away from.

He popped the cork then filled two flutes with bubbling liquid.

Sheena pulled out her chair, sat and spread her napkin on her lap. She’d removed the domes, revealing steak, lobster, creamy potatoes, sides of asparagus, carrots, sugar-snap peas, and two sauces to choose from.

“Cheers,” Julian said, passing her a glass. The fizz burst over the rim and dampened his hand.

She chinked and smiled. “What are we toasting?”

“To the here and now. Uninterrupted by the rest of the world. Just us.”

“To us.” She took a sip and he watched her bottom lip press against the glass. She had a pretty mouth, and the bright lipstick enhanced its fullness and the deep dip just above her top lip.

He had a sudden vision of her mouth wrapped around his cock. A familiar flutter of heat rose in his groin. But he beat it down. He had a lot of layers to get through before he could reach that point in the evening.

But he would.

After a mouthful of champagne, he, too, sat. “This looks delicious.”

“I’m glad you think so. It’s always a risk choosing a meal for someone else. Someone you don’t know is even harder.”

“Yes. I’m sure.” He picked up his knife and fork. “Though many people find having decisions made for them a relief. To give up responsibility for everything, even if it’s just for a while.”

“Do you like that?”

He shook his head and cut into the steak; it was soft as butter. “No. I’m a decision maker.”

“Me too.”

“In every aspect of your life?”

“Yes, I guess so.” She scooped lobster into her mouth. “Mmm… this is lovely.”

You’re lovely.

Her face was so expressive; she couldn’t hide what she was thinking, feeling. That must be unusual in a politician. Perhaps that was why she was such a good one—a rose amongst thorns, a rare gem.

He helped himself to vegetables and potatoes and some peppercorn sauce. “You read my profile on Discreet Desires, right?”

Her chin jerked up a little. As though she’d forgotten that was where she’d found him. “Er, yes of course. Why?”

“Just checking.”

She raised her face, caught his gaze. “You’re wondering about the BDSM, aren’t you? Why I picked you after reading that?”

“Perhaps.” He appreciated that she’d gotten straight to the point. It saved time.

“Maybe I liked the look of you, your face, your body, in the photograph.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know how handsome you are.”

He inclined his head. “I’ve been told it in the past, it’s true. But it’s not something I ponder on. I look how I look.”

“If you’d fallen out of the ugly tree you wouldn’t be able to do this job.”

He chuckled. “But I’d still be a dominant.” He watched the word settle on her.

It did; her eyes widened slightly.

“I’d still be who I am sexually,” he went on. “Demand obedience from my lover, punish if it’s not given.”

“Yes, I suppose you would still be that person.” Despite her relaxed voice, she was clearly ruffled by his statement delivered so calmly over an elegant dinner. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath and her cutlery hovered for a moment before she resumed eating.

He set down his knife and reached over the table, caught her hand in his. “Sheena, I promise we’re going to have a great time tonight, but you need to know something first.”

“What?”

“I’m not like the others.”

She withdrew her hand and reached for her drink. “What others.”

“Escorts.”

She hesitated then, “I can tell that already. From what you just said.”

“And.” He quieted his voice. “I’m sensing you’re unique too, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“What do you want to know?”

A sudden gust of wind blew rain against the window, tapping as if trying to get in. She turned to it, biting on her bottom lip.

“Whatever you’re comfortable telling me. But you must be reassured, everything that’s said, everything that happens in here is absolutely between us.”

“Yes, I know. And I appreciate it.”

“As I appreciate your discretion. Let’s just say some of my business contacts would find it a little… strange that I do this as a side line.”

She tipped her head and studied him, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “A side line? Is it for the money?”

“What do you think?” He continued to eat his steak.

For a moment she was thoughtful, then, “No, I really don’t think so.”

“You’d be right. I’m a fortunate man; the gods of economy and business have been kind to me.”

“So why then?”

He set down his knife and fork, picked up his napkin, and leaned back. After blotting the sides of his mouth, he said, “Because, Sheena, an evening in the company of a beautiful woman who is interested in exploring her sexuality is a treat indeed, and not one that can be bought… by me at least.”

He watched her pull in a sharp breath then release it. Again a rush of blood went to his cock. It was going to be a good evening, he could tell. There would be no faking it, no concentrating on staying hard. This woman was sexy; hugely sexy, and he’d fallen under the spell of wanting to seduce and dominate her. It had happened that fast and he was happy to be enchanted by her sweet innocence hidden under her controlling exterior.

It made it all the more fun.

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