Page 2 of Her Dirty Rival
Something in her expression changes. I can’t put a finger on it, but it’s as though she has gone from laid back sex kitten to corporate executive in a New York minute. The lookworriesme.
“Did you enjoy fucking me?” she asks, steadying herself on her owntwofeet.
I nod. “Hellyeah.”
“How aboutmybody?”
She smooths out the ripped dress, more or less covering her breasts, and turns in a slow circle. I have a hand against the wall, propping myself up because I’m still recovering from two back-to-back orgasms. But I watch her sinfully perfect body. Huge firm rack, tiny waist, thick ass, long,longlegs.
“It’s a temple,” I say with my eyes gluedtoher.
I want to ask her why she thinks she made it here in the first place, but I keep that to myself. She caught my eye when my buddies and I were at a restaurant earlier, and I didn’t waste any time picking her. I had no doubts about my decision right up to three minutes ago. Now, I’m wondering whether I picked her, or vice versa. It’s that predatory look in her eyes. I’ve seen it before. Hell, I’ve worn it before, so I’m intimately familiar withthelook.
“Do I…do we know each other?” I ask, following her as she returns to gather her winter coat, purse and stilettos at thefrontdoor.
“No, but you should. And I definitely know you, Mr. MalcolmAlexander.”
She reaches for the door. I have yet to mention my last name, so the fact that she belts it out doesn’t do anything to stop the lump from forming in my throat. I have to stop her and find out more, so I grip her shoulder and spin heraround.
“What’s this about? What’syourname?”
“It’s Riley Hampton. Look it up. Now, can you let me go? I’d quite like to get the hell out of here now that I’ve stared into the eyesofevil.”
I tighten my grip on her shoulder. “Who are you? You’re not leaving until I know exactly why you’d fuck me one minute, then call my namethenext.”
“All I’ll say is that meeting you at the restaurant was not coincidence, and when I saw you, I decided I’d give you a taste of your ownmedicine.”
“And what kind of medicine is that?” I ask, working hard to control the grin that’s threatening to rise up my face that I can’t control. After all, she had just given me one hell of a blow job and made me come twice in fifteen minutes. I must have been damn good to her in a former life because that time on the sofa and against the wall was sweet as fuck. She hasn’t been anywhere else in my suite, so it’s not like she’s a thief or anything. I’mstumped.
“The kind where you and your family step in, take what you want, then leave a trail of disaster in its wake. Now, let me go right this instant, so I don’t have to add to yourtroubles.”
My hand immediately retracts. This hellcat has lured me into something, and fuck if I know what it is, but I can’t afford to get any deeper. I don’t even have words for her. Deciding it’s probably better to shut the fuck up, I let her leave. Stepping back a few steps, I fold my arms and I watch as she shoves the door open and sashays across the wide corridor to our private elevator. I notice how shaky she is on her feet. Normally, that after-effect would give me some satisfaction. Today, I’m notlaughing.
RileyHampton.
I won’t forgetthatname.
* * *
Iforcemyself to wait a few minutes for her to leave the building. It’s not that I don’t want to confront her. I’m just trying not to fall further into whatever trap she has set for me. My phone buzzes in my pocket as I wait. It’s a text from Chauncey downstairs in the poker room. The guys are starting the game, and want to know if I’ll be in for this round. I send him a brief reply with just the word ‘yes’. At the moment, I’m distracted as fuck. I want to pull away and find out who this RileyHamptonis.
It turns out that I’m not the last one to the game. Still, the guys lay into me with a smattering ofapplause.
“What’s the hurry?” I mutter, looking around as I take my usual seat at the large, round poker table. One seat is still empty. I do my usual headcount before we kick off a game. Carter, Markus, Chance, Prentice, Jeff, Victor, Ted and I are all accounted for. “Are we waiting for Angelo? Wasn’t he at the restaurant with that twin chick he’s beenseeing?”
“He sends his regrets,” Chauncey answers, shaking out his long, blonde hair and pulling it back into aman-bun.
One of the scantily-clad poker dealer dolls on staff appears from the service door. She begins to dealusin.
“Does anyone know a woman named Riley Hampton?” I can’t even try to act calm. I’m moving the cards around in my hand, but I’m onautopilot.
“Why the hell would you ask when you can just search her name on your phone?” Jeff barks the question as he scrutinizes his cards. He’s the resident self-made billionaire geek we let in as the ninth member of our tight-knit private clubhouse. Well, Angelo’s two brothers, Dominic and Franko could become the tenth and eleventh members down the road, but for now, we’re happy at keeping the group tight. Angelo’s brothers are still welcomed to come around, but with Dominic in Chicago and Franko off to college down in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, they’re honorary potentialsatbest.
“Because I figured I’d ask everyone here first,” I say defensively. I pull out my smartphone. The truth is, I didn’t think of Googling her name. Jeff has a damn good point, but I’m not going to stroke his already giant-sized egorightnow.
“Don’t sweat it. And what the fuck was all that noise up there? Next time, just shove her panties in her mouth,” Ted suggests. “Or some Christmas garland. There’s more than enough of itaroundhere.”
The rest of the men grimace because Ted is known for his fixation on the kinkiest, most disturbing sexual habits around theclubhouse.
“We’re not all as sick as you,” Jeffjokes.
“You’re into just as much freaky shit as Ted,” I saytohim.
“How about you take your vanilla-as-fuck habits and your ten-pound Stetson cowboy hat and go fuck yourself, cowboy?” Jeff answers with a broad smile on his face. “Oh and it’s your move, so get the phone back in your damn pants. Riley Hampton can’t be thatimportant.”
I hope to God that Jeff’sright.
