December 28, 2012
Erotic Contemporary Romance
Appointment with Pleasure, Book 2
When it comes to passion, there are no rules…
She wasn’t supposed to hunger for him. Tim Bellamy was off-limits to Catherine, a high-priced call girl with an uneasy past. Indulging in his raw desire shouldn’t have happened, especially at a District party attended by the nation’s elite. Tim doesn’t know she works for the agency. If he did… That’s not something Catherine wants to confess. Drowning in his strength and heat, aching to see him again, she keeps her secret.
From old wealth, Tim has never met anyone quite like Catherine. Exotic, elegant, earthy, she’s the best of all worlds. Their evenings are sensual delights where voyeurism, bondage and a growing bond satisfy carnal needs and stir something deep within…until he stumbles upon the truth.
Shaken by her lies, Tim needs to prove the depth of Catherine’s lust and yearning once and for all. For him, their erotic adventure has only begun…
He was the one man she’d been forbidden to meet…to sleep with, exploring her most pressing carnal needs. With him, there would be many. Deep, hungry kisses, the feel of his nudity confining hers. His body hot, hard, demanding. His clean skin scented with musk.
At the thought of what she wasn’t allowed, Catherine Oliver whimpered.
He didn’t hear. He was in the foyer, at the bottom of the mansion’s sweeping staircase, one of tonight’s party attendees, not yet aware of her presence.
Good sense told Catherine to slip back into the powder room where she’d checked her makeup and hair a few minutes before. A group of women exited the spacious room now, some young, others matronly, all decked out in pricey gold necklaces, shimmering diamonds, rubies, pearls, designer silks and velvets. They left a trail of subtle perfume in their wake as they moved past her and the landing to the far end of the hall. Expensive fabrics swirled delicately around their ankles, a perfect match to their well-bred murmurs and subdued laughter.
Beneath it, Catherine heard Alexa Marsh’s warning in her mind.
“Tim Bellamy might be at the party this evening. He’s bad news, believe me. Stay away from him.”
Catherine didn’t retreat, not taking as much as a step back.
A lifetime of having others say she couldn’t do this or couldn’t be that had nurtured a stubborn streak. It and pure will had propelled her from less-than-humble beginnings to this Georgetown estate tonight. What she knew of Tim Bellamy—along with seeing him in the flesh, so to speak—kept her rooted to the spot, curious, needy for more. She trailed her fingertips over the polished mahogany banister, imagining she was touching the hard planes of his chest, his strong arms, his cock stiffened for her alone.
God, he was something.
In his early thirties, he wore his dark blond hair cropped short on the sides with a bit of length at the top. After a few minutes of bed play, those thick locks would surely tumble over his forehead. His eyes were gray, his features masculine, downright aristocratic, a strong jaw and rich mouth. The kind a long-ago ruler might have owned, his deep baritone equally impressive as he ordered his newest concubine…an untried virgin…to pleasure him or else.
On a quiet sigh, Catherine leaned against the rail, drinking him in.
Despite his blond hair and ashy eyes, his complexion was a healthy bronze, as though he’d recently spent time in sun-drenched climes rather than the District’s dreary winter. It wasn’t hard to imagine him naked on a beach, his lean, muscled body flexing with each step he took across the sand, or him riding a horse bareback, his strong thighs hugging the animal, the breeze tugging his hair.
A wave of warmth radiated from Catherine’s chest to her face. She gripped the rail, unable to pull her attention from him.
His expensive tux draped his frame perfectly. He was a tall man. Six-two according to the dossier the agency had on him. One she’d gone through repeatedly, drooling over his photos, impressed by his education and that he’d turned his back on his family’s business to carve out a career of his own. Not only had he succeeded in that endeavor, those on the Hill respected him. Whether his stand on issues was popular or not, he was a man others knew would never go back on his word. He never promised what he couldn’t deliver. He didn’t lie.
Catherine liked that and wished she could say the same about herself, rather than watching him like some sicko voyeur. It was all she was allowed and it wasn’t nearly enough. Neither were the details she knew about him from his file, compiled shortly before he and his friends, Hunt and David, had spent an evening with Alexa, with Hunt falling for her. At the time, Alexa was one of the most popular young women at the escort agency and had called herself Magique.
She now ran the place, gathering information on clients, making certain none of them were weird or would harm the escorts. Whether Hunt liked her continued involvement in the business or not wasn’t something Alexa spoke about. However, Catherine knew Hunt would never allow another man to touch Alexa again. He’d wooed, then claimed her for his own.
Catherine tried to imagine such devotion for herself, a man wanting her no matter where she’d come from, how she earned her living now.
Sure. She wasn’t that much of a romantic fool. Nor did Catherine resent Alexa for what she had. They were friends, with Alexa wanting only the best for her.
Which explained her warning to stay away from Tim. Privileged since birth, he’d never been told ‘no’, at least according to Alexa. She said he’d been reluctant to accept Hunt’s desire for her, a former call girl, even though Alexa had been born into breathtaking wealth as Tim had been. Their similar backgrounds should have made them fast friends, but hadn’t. Tim had taken his own sweet time to come around, settling on being coolly polite rather than friendly. Catherine could only imagine what he’d think of her rough origins.
She wanted to hate him for it. At the very least, she needed to ignore him for being such a self-righteous prick with Alexa.
The feeling didn’t come. She remained where she was.
Unaware of her continued scrutiny, he downed his scotch and soda as though he needed it to get through the night. No surprise. As parties went, this one was DOA, perfect for the terminally dull or prissy. Of course, the less uptight attendees were enjoying each other in the mansion’s numerous suites. Catherine had heard a few of those couples in her search for a powder room. The panting and gasps pouring from behind the doors hadn’t surprised her at all. She knew the elite made their own rules, doing whatever they liked, wherever they happened to be. Fueled by power, lust and booze, they were going at each other in those bedrooms like hormone-soaked teens.
Exactly what she and her ‘date’ for this function should have been doing, with him giving her a much-needed orgasm, a few moments of pleasure.
The guy didn’t know the meaning of the term. He was twenty-six—the same as her—and a newly minted billionaire thanks to his Internet company. For a nerd, he was exceptionally good looking and a narcissist who liked to hear himself talk and talk and talk. Damn, the man never ran out of words, mostly about himself, all of them as riveting as Keanu Reeves reading the white pages without any inflection, precisely like his acting.
After having staved off another yawn, Catherine had left her date in the billiards room with a bunch of other guys who were equally into themselves. None of them noticed her departure through their haze of cigar smoke. Even if they had, she still would have come here, searching for Tim, drawn to him by something deep inside she wasn’t about to explore.
His broad shoulders rose and fell on his heavy sigh that seemed almost lonely, the way she’d felt for too long. He glanced around. For his date, a young woman with a sterling pedigree? Suppressing a frown and a pang of envy, Catherine regarded the area. None of the women nearby appeared to notice him…and he didn’t seem to be coveting any female. Was he getting ready to leave?
Unable to help herself, Catherine went to the landing. To do what? Stop him? Strike up a conversation that might lead back to questions about her? What then? Give him a hearty dose of lies laced with just a scrap of truth to protect her client’s ego, to make certain no one here knew the jerk couldn’t get his own date? Would it be worth it?
Maybe. She’d be close enough to smell Tim’s skin. Their hands might touch. She could daydream about pressing her lips to his palm, nuzzling her face against his—
Tim raised his empty glass, stalling her thoughts. A young man with slicked back hair nodded in acknowledgement. The guy’s short white coat was of a dated nautical design that would have looked good on the Titanic, his tray laden with a variety of colorful cocktails.
Without giving the server a second glance, Tim handed the boy his empty glass and suddenly looked up, meeting her eyes.
Catherine’s heart paused, then beat out of time.
Stay away from him, Alexa had warned.
Heat poured through Catherine’s body, weakening it further. At that same moment, she saw a spark of animal interest—wanton and hungry—cross Tim’s handsome face.