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BOOK: The Temptress
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The Last Temptation

Lulu

Wednesday

 

I headed back to work as soon as I’d put Tristan
down, with Dom watching over him for me. I wasn’t happy. I’d started refusing
to assist clients requiring deliberate entrapment, but we had one existing
client that Frankie had been working for some time and was close to breaking.
He’d set up a suite in The Dalton Hotel to meet her tonight, but she’d come
down with a bout of food poisoning. His wife was growing impatient with the
lack of proof, other than texts and the odd drinks in a bar and was threatening
to cancel the contract. My girls had earned bonuses on this type of contact,
Frankie had worked so hard it would be unfair of me to cancel the job and for
her to lose that payment. Equally, the commission from the client on a lure for
my company was much higher. Violet had called asking what she should do, so I’d
told her, given I was the closest in body shape and looks to Frankie, that I’d
step in and try to make it work. I parked up at the office, got changed and
called a taxi.

On arrival, I quickly checked myself in the
mirror as I stood outside. I was flying solo on this mission, Frankie’s backup,
Treena, had turned off her phone, obviously thinking she was off the hook for
the night. Violet had made me promise to call her as soon as I was done, to let
her know I was ok. Half an hour and I could be done and on my way back home. Mr.
De Vere had been sexting Frankie, on a phone that wasn’t the one he used for
his wife, and apparently one of his fantasies was for a hot librarian,
secretary type. Such a cliché. I smoothed down my short tight black mini skirt,
making sure it just covered the top of my lace edged stockings. I was wearing a
grey tweed jacket and a white cotton blouse, with matching black lace lingerie,
so my bra was just about visible through the white blouse, that I’d left
unbuttoned low enough to show off my cleavage. My natural hair was pulled back
into a loose chignon, with a few tendrils escaping and I’d put on one of
Henry’s pairs of glasses, with no prescription lens in the frame, but a tiny
camera and microphone built into each side of the thick black rimmed frames. I
closed my eyes for a second and made sure I was mentally prepared, then headed
into the bar. I recognised him immediately, from the photo in the file I’d read
up on. Auburn hair, green eyes, not bad looking with a stocky build. He was
sitting at the bar checking his watch, it had been a rush to get here, but it
was already fifteen minutes after Frankie was supposed to meet him. I took the
stool to his right and noticed him give me the once over.

‘A screwdriver please,’ I asked the barman,
pushing the glasses up my nose.

‘Coming right up, lady,’ he smiled, his eyes
focussed on my chest. These bad boys were such an asset sometimes. I looked
around as I tapped my freshly painted dark grey nails on the bar, making sure
to let my gaze lock with Mr. De Vere, before reaching down to check my watch
and letting out a large sigh.

‘Waiting for someone?’ he enquired, as he
swivelled in his chair to face me.

‘Someone was supposed to be waiting for me, I’m
late, so I’ve either been stood up or he’s already left,’ I replied.

‘I would imagine he’s running late, I can’t see
anyone standing you up. Boyfriend or first date.’

‘First date,’ I nodded, ‘sort of.’

‘Sort of?’ He tilted his head as he frowned. I
crossed my legs, making sure the tops of my stockings were visible and heard
him inhale sharply, as he shifted in his seat. I leaned forward and put a hand
to the side of my mouth, as if I was letting him in on a big secret.

‘We met on one of these “dating” websites.
Except everyone knows it’s not really for dates.’

‘Not for dates? It’s for hook-ups?’

‘Sssshhh,’ I warned with a finger against my
lips. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before, but the thought of it was so
… hot.’

‘Hmmmm, I can imagine,’ he replied, a
lascivious smile creeping across his face. ‘So how do these things work?’

‘Easier than you’d think,’ I nodded, turning to
thank the barman for my drink and taking a sip. ‘You just log on and fill in
your profile, age, size, picture and then, you know, what you’re looking for
and guys email you to ask if they can meet.’

‘And what was it that you were looking for Miss
…?’

‘Granger, Isabelle Granger.’ I offered him my
hand, which he took immediately and kissed.

‘David Parker,’ he replied, using the cover
name he’d been giving Frankie. O Mrs. De Vere was spot on about this one having
a hidden side. ‘So, your profile?’

‘I feel embarrassed telling you, you’re a
virtual stranger,’ I giggled, knocking back the rest of my cocktail and
ordering another.

‘No more a stranger than the man you were about
to meet,’ he winked, as his hand dropped to his crotch. I didn’t have to look
to know he was hard already. This was going to be a piece of cake, Frankie had
wound him up ready to go. He’d come here, booking a suite, expecting sex and he
wasn’t going to walk away from the offer of it now.

‘No, I guess not. You’ll think I’m so wanton,
but I work in a University, cataloguing books and it’s kind of boring and means
I get type cast as a stuffy librarian,
all the time.
I just wanted to
live out a crazy fantasy of meeting a hot stranger in a bar and have him take
me to his room. He’d slowly remove my jacket, then unpin my hair and ...’

‘And …’ he asked leaning forwards, drool
virtually escaping from his lips, as I stopped to take a sip of my drink.

‘He’d carefully unbutton my shirt, toss it on
the floor, unzip my skirt and hold my hand as I stepped out of it. Then he’d
tell me how beautiful and sexy I looked in my glasses and lace underwear, then
he’d …
make love to me,
’ I added in a whisper, then giggled and covered
my mouth with my hand, coyly.

‘I see,’ he replied on an exhalation, his voice
low and husky. ‘What a shame that it appears you won’t get to fulfil this
fantasy of yours.’

‘I know, right?’ I moaned. ‘I put on my sexiest
underwear and had a few vodkas before I left home to loosen me up. I feel so
squiffy. I must be drunk, I’m telling you all about my underwear and how horny
I am.’

‘Your underwear is incredibly sexy,’ he nodded,
slowly trailing a finger over the lace top of my stocking peeking out. ‘It’s
such a shame to let your fantasy go to waste.’

‘I know,’ I sighed, pretending not to notice
him touching me and holding in a shudder. For someone Frankie had been effectively
“grooming” for herself, he really didn’t seem to be wasting any time coming on to
me. This was going to be like taking candy off a baby. He leaned right over to
put his face next to mine.

‘Maybe you can help me out, you see I was also
stood up for a … play date,’ he murmured in my ear.

‘What are you suggesting?’ I asked, playing for
innocence in my tone. Pervert!

‘I have a suite upstairs and I’d love to
undress you and make all your wildest fantasies come true,’ he purred. I
grinned to myself, game on.

‘You want to make love to me?’ I gasped,
playing for surprise.

‘I’m a very skilled lover, Isabelle, I bet I
can make you come within five minutes of having you in my suite. I love nothing
better than using my tongue on a sweet little pussy like yours.’

‘O my!’ I whispered softly.

‘So, what do you say?’ he asked, as he
straightened up and winked at me.

‘I … I … O, you must think I’m so …
slutty
,’
I mumbled, dropping my head. ‘I’ve only had sex a couple of times and it was
awful, I don’t do this all the time.’

‘Neither do I, but I’d love to with you. Let me
show you how amazing sex can be.’ He stood up and offered me his hand. I looked
at him through my lashes and slowly reached out to take it as I slid off my
stool. He tossed some notes on the bar, telling the barman it covered my round
as well and guided me out towards the lift, a hand firmly planted on my
backside. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to grab it and bend his wrist
backwards. I just had to get him in the suite, capture him saying what he was
going to do and I was out of there. It was one thing dirty talking a stranger
in a bar, but if his wife wanted to use something against him, she really
needed more concrete proof of intent. An invitation to his bedroom and
willingness to drop his pants was essential. He stood behind me as the lift
doors shut and I was thankful we weren’t alone. It didn’t stop him from putting
his hands on my hips and kissing my neck. I closed my eyes as I grimaced and
calmly breathed in and out. When we reached the fifth floor, he grabbed my hand
and raced me up the corridor to his room, locking the door behind him and positioning
me at the foot of the bed. He quickly reached for my jacket as he tried to kiss
me.

‘Wait, wait,’ I cried. ‘I feel really nervous
all of a sudden, I’m not sure I can do this.’

‘Don’t back out now sweetheart, I’m about to
blow my load looking at you, thinking about seeing you naked.’ He grabbed for
my backside and pulled me up against him, grinding his erection into my stomach
his lips finding my neck again. I was so close to slapping him and kneeing him
in crotch.

‘Please, you feel so big, I’m scared.’

‘I am big and you’re going to scream like the
whore you are as I fuck your cunt, mouth and arse until you can hardly walk and
you feel the rips in your abused flesh for days,’ he hissed, as his fingers
tightened in my flesh. Ok, that was it, that didn’t sound like a guy who was
just after extra marital sex. This guy had a dark side.

‘I’ve made a mistake, I’m so sorry, I need to
go,’ I uttered as I shoved him off me. That was going to have to be enough for
Mrs. De Vere and good riddance to the creep. It happened so fast, I didn’t see
his fist coming until it was too late. It connected with my cheekbone like a
wrecking ball. I cried out as I staggered backwards, my palm against the pain
radiating through my face and shaking my head from the stars dancing in my
eyes. I yelped as I felt him grab a fistful of my hair, almost ripping it from
its roots as he roughly forcing me down onto my knees. I quickly took some deep
breaths as I tried to pull myself together and ignore the screaming pain in my cheek
and my blurred vision. I was in serious trouble and needed to think fast.

‘You’re not going anywhere you cunt, take my
dick out and suck it. If you try to scream I’ll gag you, tie you up and make
sure that pretty little face of yours is unrecognisable. I don’t want to hear a
single
fucking
word leave your mouth. Nod if you understand?’ he hissed.
I nodded as I swallowed back the barrage of expletives I wanted to use on him, trying
to ignore the nausea in my stomach. What had possessed me to come without backup?
It was one of the rules I always hammered home, this guy was psychotic. I
reached up with genuinely trembling hands, I had to play this cool for a
moment, let him think he was in charge. I undid his button and slowly pulled
down his zip, but his grip in my hair didn’t relax at all. ‘What are you
waiting for, this is what you wanted, sex with a stranger, like a common
disgusting prostitute. Well you’re going to get fucked in ways you haven’t even
dreamed of bitch. Suck my fucking dick.’

I twisted my upper torso as I clenched my right
fist and swung it back with as much force as I could muster, straight up into
his balls. He groaned and let go of my hair as he dropped to his knees in front
of me, cupping his crotch and swearing. I scrambled to my feet, launching
myself towards the door in a bid for freedom, but he reached out, grabbing my
ankle and pulling on it hard. I crashed down onto the floor, winding myself,
fighting the urge not to pass out as terror flooded my system. I squealed as he
dragged me backwards along the floor, my skirt gathering up around my waist, the
carpet creating stinging friction burns on my knees, as I clawed at the thick
pile below me to try to keep myself from being hauled back under him. He managed
to twist me onto my back as I tried desperately to catch my breath and recover
from the shock of his attack and the fall. I screamed as he punched me again,
straight in the stomach, nearly making me throw up. I managed to blindly throw
one in return, the sound of his nose exploding filled my ears, along with his
barrage of abuse and I turned my head as I was sprayed with hot, wet, sticky blood.
I was terrified now, if I could just get to my feet I could defend myself, use
my kick boxing, but my legs were shaking so badly I wasn’t sure I could stand
up. I shook my head to try and rid myself of the dizziness, sure that I could
hear the door behind me being pounded on.
Please let someone have heard me,
I silently pleaded.

‘You fucking bitch, you’re going to pay for
this,’ he roared, as he forced a cotton handkerchief into my mouth, stuffing every
last piece of it in as I tried to shove him off me. He ripped off his tie and
captured my hands as I frantically panted through my nose, getting dizzier by
the second. I was on the verge of passing out. No! I couldn’t pass out. Tristan
needed me, I needed to fight for him. I quickly realised that Mr. De Vere was
going to restrain me, I needed to fight back now, and hard, before it was too
late. I lifted my legs, wrapping them around his waist and quickly slammed my
high heels down into the back of his knees. He yelped in pain and for a second
loosened his grip on my wrists. I took advantage by aiming a punch at his
throat. He started choking as he fell to the side and I quickly ripped the handkerchief
out and screamed at the top of my lungs, someone would hear me, surely. Unable
to stand, my legs still like jelly, I crawled towards the door, blinking up in
a daze as I heard the slams on the outside of it get faster and harder. I
quickly threw myself out of the way in time to see it crash open.

BOOK: The Temptress
3.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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