Accidentally Hooked (The Naked Truth Series Book 1) Read online

  She crossed her arms. “That’s non-negotiable.”

  “All right with me.”

  A small sigh flew past her Angelina Jolie lips. “Good. And, of course, condoms.”

  No problem there. “I’ll wear condoms.”

  “Great. Do you have any questions?”

  He grinned, entranced by her cherry-red lips. Damn it. That woman and sex went together like a hammer and a nail. “What’s your policy on open mouth kissing?”

  She drew back, perhaps surprised at his question. “I-I guess that’s fine. But if you don’t want—”

  “Oh no, sweet face. I have plans for this mouth.” He lifted his index finger and outlined her lips, starting from the bottom and working its way to the top lip. Her sultry mouth trembled a bit. Suppressing a groan burning in his lungs, he tipped her chin up. “My hotel it is then?”

  Chapter Two

  Bloody hell. Doubts drilled him from the moment they’d sauntered out of the bar and made their way onto the Strip. The desert heat, still brutal at nine o’clock at night, smacked him in the face. So she was hooking. He still had no proof she did it during business hours. If he brought her moonlighting to the human resource manager’s attention, or even if he brought it to Charlotte’s, what would happen? Maybe they’d fire her or turn her in. Or did her after-hours activities even matter?

  He’d lose his opportunity to show his sister what kind of man her husband-to-be was.

  As Kika swayed her curvy hips in front of him, his libido stirred. Try telling yourself this is mere investigation. That you aren’t attracted. He’d done some pretty stupid things in his life, but paying for sex had never been one of them.

  Until now.

  Bright lights announced the latest shows, the billboards only momentarily stealing his attention from his conundrum. If he went along with it, wouldn’t that make him as bad? As wrong?

  The crowd, walking in both directions, jam-packed the streets. A man handing out flyers with deals for strip clubs almost bumped into her. Ryan snatched her to him, quick to prevent a body collision with the guy, and brought them next to the slab of cement of the bridge. The collision with her, though…spread electric currents through him.

  “Thanks.” She tipped her fedora and tucked a straying curl behind her ear, her face flushed. “W-Where are you staying?”

  “The Spot.”

  “The Spot,” she repeated in low voice. She reared back, and widened her eyes. Was she scared he’d take her to her place of work?

  “What’s the matter?” He lifted her chin, the tip of his finger tingling with anticipation. “Tell me.”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m calling this off.”

  Hell no, you are not. “Off?” He stood up straighter, his heart racing. “I have a special key to my suite. No one will see you. We can stroll down the parking garage and take the elevator straight to my floor.” He used his most soothing voice.

  Why did she change her mind? Was there someone who wasn’t supposed to see her in the hotel when during non-work hours? Maybe the tip that his friend Katie had given him was right on the money. Maybe there was a super organized prostitution ring…and he wasn’t going to relax until he found out.

  She sighed.

  “Are you familiar with the hotel?” He scratched his chin. Best not to tell her yet he’d seen her working in the casino. She might suspect him if he had…and last thing he wanted was to scare her away. “Is there a problem?”

  She stepped back and crossed her arms. “Why would a hunk like you pay someone for sex? Seriously, look at you. I bet your shoulder muscles bunch into a W when you lift weights. And your abs have that narrowing V women go crazy for. I can just tell.”

  Was that an accusation or a compliment? Laughter floated up his throat. “What am I, an alphabet soup?”

  She shook her head. “I just noticed you are better looking out here.”

  “What was wrong with inside the bar? The dim lights didn’t favor me?”

  “Yes, you were really fugly back there.” She pointed toward the bar and shrugged. “My point is, why aren’t you taking a girlfriend out on the town? Why didn’t you bring someone with you in this trip?”

  Was she a prostitute or a relationship counselor? He rubbed the back of his neck, but no massage would bring him the ticket out of that conversation. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he let a long sigh out. A different awareness dawned on him. She studied his every move. Damn it.

  Besides his counselor and the AA meeting group, his sister had been the only person he’d opened up to about this. Well, it’s not like this was a typical date. Also, he had to tell her something true about himself, besides his profession and nationality. It was only fair. “I’m an alcoholic. I dated someone special for a while, but my disease took care of ruining that relationship. That was three and a half years ago.”

  Kika unfolded her arms, the contours of her face softening. “I understand.” She chewed on her lower lip, and he could tell by the twitch in her eyes, he got to her at some level. Either that or she was a great actress.

  She closed the gap between them. An invisible bubble of awareness encircled them, and silence lengthened. He parted his mouth, but couldn’t string any words past the lump in his throat. Keep your head in the game, man.

  Asking her very personal questions would make him get to know her. Maybe, even like her. Was he ready for that? For bringing down the operation which she was possibility a part of? For using her to save his sister from the claws of that bastard Blake Spot? A cold shiver ran down his spine.

  Time to move forward.

  No.

  More.

  Hesitations.

  “I understand…this.” He dipped his head and covered her lips with his. All his muscles clenched with longing, and blood surged hot and thick in his veins. He held the back of her neck, his fingers kneading the soft skin to bring her to submission. To make her surrender to a kiss that had already disarmed him.

  She opened her mouth and he delved his tongue inside. A rapacious, senseless longing for more seeded and grew. Pulling her against his hips, he groaned. His cock was as hard as granite. How could he not be? The tight tips of her full breasts rubbed his pectorals.

  With a low moan, she nipped his lower lip, and when his bloodstream expanded to the point he thought he’d die, his heart slamming against his ribcage, she released it with a pop.

  “Get a room, guys.” A teenager snickered behind them as he walked by.

  “That’s good advice,” he whispered into her hair.

  Trembling, she disentangled herself from his hold. It took her a couple seconds until she faced him straight in the eye. “Show me your I.D.”

  ID? He watched her in silence, then frowned and pulled his Australian passport from his back pocket. Raising it to her eye level, she skimmed over his name while she jammed her other hand in her purse and grabbed a cell phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  She typed on the screen. “Sending my friend Elena a message with your passport number. If you breach any of the conditions we talked about, or if I don’t call her in the morning, she will know what to do.”

  Was that a policy from the organization to ensure safety? He scratched his chin. “Interesting. You do that with every client? That would be a breach of privacy.” Maybe if she did, there was a way he could get access to a client database.

  Kika gave him his passport back, then tossed her phone in her bag. “It’s a new rule. You know, to protect my ass from foreign clients,” she said playfully.

  He shoved the passport in his back pocket. “Fair enough.”

  “Okay. I’ll go to your hotel, but I don’t want to be seen.”

  He curled up his lips. “No worries. Discretion is my middle name.”

  “No. Your middle name is Charles.”

  Right now, his middle name was Stupid.

  ***

  I should be locked in a white padded room. Or something. The man thought she was
a hooker, for crying out loud! Kika followed him into the parking garage as he’d suggested to keep their entrance low-key. He slid the room key in the slot to gain access to the elevator from the parking garage. She watched his long fingers and her sex hummed.

  When she had heard he stayed at the same hotel Luna worked as a waitress, she’d almost changed her mind. She didn’t want to jeopardize her sister’s job. What if he ran into Luna at the casino the next day? Gosh, that would be super awkward.

  His candid confession cut to her soul. After what she’d endured with her brother, she’d become wary of being around addicts. It’s not like Ryan is offering you a relationship, right? No puppies and rainbows. He was just her client, in a world where her fantasy was coming to life.

  The kiss he gave her…taught her no padded room, no confinement could smother the heat still branding her skin. What else did she have to go home to tonight? Freddy had died exactly six years ago. Her sister stood her up and didn’t have the guts to pick up her cell phone.

  Maybe that was why she went along with pretending to be someone else. She badly needed an escape, and by God there were worse ones than Ryan Winters. Her lack of restraint around him was like taking a ride on a roller coaster for the first time. Except she’d had sex before…but never under false pretenses. He didn’t know where she lived, or anything else about her. He wanted to pay for sex, which gave her the freedom of not having to worry about the consequences. Yes, freedom from the clinging thoughts that always fogged her mind on her annual visit to her sister. Like opening that bathroom door and finding Freddy there, his body stiff and pale against the toilet seat. Dead.

  A security guard nodded at Ryan, and he waved his key as a mere formality. The platinum shining on the card ensured privacy to whoever occupied the top penthouses.

  The elevator doors closed, and he gave her a sexy sideways glance, encouraging her to erase the distance between them, with what she was sure was a very naughty smile on her face. However, a couple of seconds later, the white marbled, panoramic elevator stopped at the second floor, and a few guests joined them.

  “Oh, the disadvantages of having a room on the top floor,” she whispered into his ear. Wasn’t there a part of her that didn’t respond to him with the eagerness of a shopaholic on a Black Friday?

  He snaked his arm around her shoulders. “Tell me about it.”

  Anticipation dripped down her spine and surged all the way down the back of her buckling knees. Another floor and more guests entered. She scooted back, and Ryan held her elbow, bringing her closer to him. He nudged her in front of him, his hand on her hip and with the discretion he claimed so natural to him, he took a millimeter of a step toward her, enough for her to feel his hot erection poking against her ass. Dear. Lord.

  Clamping her lips shut, she suppressed a moan. Each time her heart thumped, her pussy throbbed in a rhythm that was as delicious as frustrating. The voices around her faded in the background.

  The elevator stopped at yet another level, and she was about to burst. They scooted back all the way against the glass wall to make room. She could glance behind her and see the Strip, but that meant she’d also have to face him, and just the idea of his azure eyes deepening with desire made her want to rub her back against his chest, and lean against him to give him full access to her neck.

  When the elevator reached the fiftieth floor, the sound of her long suppressed sigh filled the space. The old ladies chattered on in French, and left the elevator at the same time as Ryan and her. Ryan stretched his hand to her, and she accepted it. With fingers intertwined, the warmth from his palm engulfed her. He wanted her badly, and that alone had her cursing every tiny step they took until they reached his door. Every. Single. One.

  A handful of penthouses occupied that exquisite floor, with small bronze statues on every corner, renaissance art decorating the walls, and a couple of oversized chairs with golden trim. Luxury and decadence in every detail, just like the rest of the property. For all she cared, they could be in a dark alley in Marrakech. If he wasn’t buried inside her fast enough, she’d die.

  He pressed the card in the slot area, it blinked green, and he turned the knob. Releasing her hand from his, he motioned for her to enter. A knot thickened in her throat. Was listening to her simmering lady parts the wisest decision she could make? He flicked a couple of dimmed lights on, which set the intimate mood. Wow. The place is freaking huge.

  Without waiting for him, she removed her black-wedged shoes and dropped them at the foyer. She walked past a dining table for six, a set of golden couches in the living area, and the inviting rectangular sleek pool on the balcony.

  “Keep going,” he demanded, his husky drawl shredding any remain of doubt lurking in her mind. The man’s accent was porn to her ears.

  Behind the French doors ahead was the master suite. Clenching and unclenching her sweaty hands, she strode to the set of doors, and swung them open as if they could leave all her baggage behind her. Tonight, she was someone else.

  She curled her toes on the soft carpet, her eyes widening to soak in the Californian-sized bed, impeccably made, with about ten small pillows on the top of the rich bronze cover spread. Lights from the outside skipped in the room. The sliding door to the balcony was a tad open, and let in a draft of dry hot air.

  The other furniture, the set of bedside tables, and the chaise longue at the end of the bed, faded in the background. Swept by a sense of empowerment, she turned around to find him leaning against the threshold, staring at her with an intensity that made her shudder.

  He took his shirt off over his head, and tossed it to the side. Moisture evaporated from her throat. The planes of his well-muscled chest shifted as he walked toward her. He was chiseled, and plain gorgeous. A gleam of approval coated his eyes, even though she was clothed. By the time he was a heartbeat away from her, his limbs rubbing on hers, her heart galloped.

  With a sly smile, he took her fedora off, and her hair fell in waves down her shoulders. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

  “It hasn’t been that long,” she said, her voice a tad nervous.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Ever since I saw you at the bar…every moment I don’t kiss you, it seems like it’s been way too long a wait.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, biting it so hard. Maybe the pain would take over the strangely warm sensation pouring through her. Crap. The man had game. Too much game. I have to up mine.

  She glided her fingers down his hard chest and toyed with the hem of his jeans. “What do you want?” she whispered, figuring that’s what a sex professional would ask. Also, if he requested anything too freaky, this was her chance to bolt.

  “What I want is right in front of me,” he said, before covering her lips with his and initiating a kiss charged with raw passion. A kiss that spiked her adrenaline even higher than the one they’d shared on the street.

  His tongue stroked and wrestled hers with the same intensity. Heat coiled low in her belly, and she matched his eagerness with her own, plastering herself against him, her hands perusing his chest. She made circles with the tip of her trembling fingers around his taut nipples and he tensed up under her touch.

  “What do you want, Kika?” he asked, his breath shaky.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she brought her gaze to his, making it race again. This. This was what she could have right now, and what would help her forget everything else. For one night only. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Chapter Three

  “Too right.” He slammed her against the wall, the coolness of the glass prickling her bare arms. His lips hovered over hers, and she parted her mouth, but instead of going for a full on kiss, Ryan withdrew. Dizzy with desire, her head bobbed toward him.

  He lifted her arms and put them behind her head. A wave of anxiety swept through her, and she arched toward him. Asking for help had never been her forte, but damn the man, she needed him to release the volcanic tension boiling in her veins.

  R
yan held her arms captive with one hand, and she squirmed. Lowering toward her, he ran his index finger over her face, outlining her cheeks, her nose, her mouth. She slipped the tip of her tongue out, and licked his finger. He threw his head back, and let a long sigh that shred the silence.

  Encouraged, she ran her tongue up and down his finger. He stood straighter and faced her. The spark of defiance in his eyes set her pulse on a wild delicious race. Whatever challenged he planned, she wasn’t going to back down.

  She sucked his finger, marveling over his rough skin and he groaned. Shaking his head, he yanked his finger from her mouth, and ran the glistening flesh down her neck. She felt her main vein pulsating; he must have noticed because he flashed her a smile of pure male pride.

  The moment he pulled up her tank top and fondled her breasts over her black satin bra, she gasped and sagged her shoulders, her body sliding on the glass and producing a squeaking noise. He loosened the grip on her arms till they fell down to her side.

  Ryan pulled her bra to the side, and her breasts spilled into view. Licking his lips, he took a small step back, his intense gaze fixed on her dark brown tips. “These are fucking gorgeous.” He glanced at her. “You are gorgeous.”

  “How gorgeous?” she whispered.

  Smiling, he brushed his palm against her breasts. Oh, how she ached for his touch… Her nipples hardened like diamond tips. After cupping them, he made circular movements on the sensitive skin around her nipples, tugging at the center. Her entire body tingled. Without mercy, her bones melted, one by one.

  She leaned her head against the glass, eyes closed. He began a path of kisses, big and small, on her neck that had her quivering for more. Moaning, she raked her fingers in his hair. The buzz cut was a combination of sharp and smooth—much like the man whose tongue tasted her collarbone.

  “Yes,” she whispered, arousal ricocheting through her. There wasn’t room for anything else but the two of them. No past, no sorrow, nothing. Just the way it should be.