Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) (11 page)

“Done,” she agreed, still highly amused. “Just remember that I am one of the women who would not appreciate her husband to get tempted.”

“He’s blacklisted,” I offered—not without a healthy amount of satisfaction. No doubt Ray would find company elsewhere—if Alison allowed it.
 

“Very well then,” Alison said, getting up with a clear purpose of dismissal. “I will get back to you about the country club as soon as that is sorted out. Or, better yet, have someone from the committee call you. I’m sure she will choke on it, whoever is misfortunate enough to get tasked with it.” She paused, focusing on something behind me, likely someone passing beyond the partially fogged glass wall. “Which reminds me… you could start your new task right now. As always, it was a pleasure to talk to you, Penelope.”

“Likewise, Alison,” I said, not quite sure what she meant—until I stepped out into the hallway and came face to face with Darren, wearing rather casual clothes even for Casual Friday—khakis and a dark polo shirt. Someone else might have appeared ridiculous in that, considering all the perfectly tailored suits around, but he just looked delectable.
 

I might have been biased, though. And with the way his eyes perfectly peeled me out of my clothes, it was hard to focus on anything else—except maybe the security hatchet over by the fire station.

“I thought today was your day off?” Alison chirped from behind me, clearly talking to her junior partner. “Oh, I forgot. You mentioned that you would come in briefly to catch an update on the Mercantor case, right?”

Darren’s eyes lingered on me a moment longer before they skipped over my shoulder to Alison.

“Right. And of course you forgot.”

It was not just that he said it, but how he said it, that made it obvious that there was some bad blood between the two of them—something that I would have thought of as impossible mere months ago. He also didn’t seem particularly happy to see me here, but that wasn’t news. That Alison had clearly set things in motion, hitting the perfect timing, was obvious, and the fact that it irked Darren sweetened the deal for me more than any amount of money ever could.

Smiling at Alison one last time, I offered a brief, “Always a pleasure doing business with you. Call me any time you need me. You have my number.” With a last, if lingering, smile at Darren, I turned my back on both of them and stalked toward the elevator. People were streaming into their workspaces now, forcing me to wait until the cabin was vacated, but I was the only one who entered. That was, until I pressed the button for the foyer and turned around to catch one last glimpse at Darren—only to find him stepping into the elevator just as the doors started to close.

My heart slammed into my ribcage, the combination of enclosed space and no escape route not helping at all to keep the latent panic at bay—and I could see in his eyes that my attempt at keeping my cool wasn’t fooling him, at all. I knew that look on his face all too well—that intensity as he let down his guard, the pleasant mask peeling away to reveal the monster that was lurking below. That monster that I’d gotten up close and personal with down in his basement.

The monster that—like nothing else—lit the suddenly short fuse to my libido, instantly drenching my underwear. My pulse beat a mile a minute as his gaze raked over me, not even the light “whoosh” of the elevator doors closing a distraction.
 

And now my worst nightmare was coming true—I was locked in with him, with no chance of escape. Everything in me screamed for me to press into the corner farthest away from him, to hug myself and close my eyes, to wait for it all to be over. Yet at the same time I felt anger born of panic roar to life, making me want to launch myself at him, even though I knew that without a weapon I wouldn’t stand a chance. At least I’d go down fighting.

The cabin started its descent, and as if the slight shift in motion cleared my mind, sense came seeping back in. At least twenty people had seen us both board the elevator. No doubt, the entire foyer downstairs would be full of more waiting for their ride upstairs. I had no doubts that even the elevator cabins were monitored. There was no way he could kill me and get away with it—so, technically, being locked in here with him was as safe as I’d get.

That realization painted a smirk on my face, and seeing his answering frown brought steel back into my spine.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, not quite a grunt, but his voice held that commanding edge that always came with his disapproval.

Rather than answer directly, I just held his gaze. “Looks like we’re both going down.”

From the corner of my eye I could see the floor numbers counting down—rapidly, but by far not fast enough. Following my focus, a feral smile appeared on his face, and as soon as his hand slammed down on the stop button, the elevator ground to a sudden halt, jarring my nerves more than my bones.

“Not so fast,” he said, clearly echoing my thoughts.

Before I could clamp down on the impulse, I swallowed convulsively. It got increasingly harder to force my mind to think. What to do? What to—

Alison. She and that inane plan of hers. Why wait when I had the perfect opportunity right in front of me?

Darren tensed when I took a step toward him, but of course he didn’t retreat. I wasn’t sure he could have, even if he’d wanted to. That thought made me smile, even if it was more forced than I preferred. Reaching for him, I pushed one hand against his shirt, feeling the strong, hard muscles underneath. Oh, I wasn’t the only one rigid with tension. Inadvertently, my eyes skipped to the scar at the side of his neck, and following an impulse, I leaned closer still until I could press my lips against it. Everything in me should have screamed to get away from him, but instead I inhaled deeply, relishing that scent that was purely him.

Then I reached for his belt and started to unbuckle it, barely pausing before I pulled down the zipper of his fly and reached inside, finding his cock hard and warm, and so achingly familiar that it took actual restraint on my part to not bend over on the spot and beg him to fuck me.

“What do you think you are doing?” he grated out, his voice low—but with his face turned into my hair, sound didn’t need to carry very far.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I teased, loving how throaty my voice got. Choked, too, but it would have been impossible to keep the undercurrent of lust out of it—and there was no reason in the world to try. Pulling back, he looked me straight in the eyes, that same murderous intensity still shining brightly.

“You never were good at playing games,” he offered, a wry twist coming to his lips. That grated, and deserved a hint of nail as I continued to pump him.

“Who’s playing games?” I chuffed, letting my smile widen. “Do you really think I’d just string you along and leave you hanging? You know me better than that, Darren. Once a whore, always a whore.” Leaning close, I licked along the shell of his ear before I whispered into it, “Or have you forgotten that part already? Does she do that? Tease you? She’s so young. So inexperienced. Of course she can’t live up to your expectations. That’s why you go to a professional.”

With one fluid motion, I sank down onto my knees, thankful that the hem of my dress rode up so it wouldn’t get dirty. My eyes caught his and I continued to hold his gaze as I freed his cock, then slid it into my mouth—all the way in. He remained rigid, impassive, but I could feel his dick harden further as it eased into the back of my throat.
 

Was he afraid that I would bite? I was tempted, sure, but I wasn’t that stupid. This was not about retaliation—this was all seduction. So I did what I’d done a million times—and gave him the perfect blow job. I fully expected him to take control, but he didn’t—he just continued to watch me, drinking in every inch of me.

Oh, Daliah, you never stood a chance.

The only sound besides my slurping was the groan he offered as he came down my throat, relaxing infinitesimally afterward. The panic inside of me never fully fled, but when I stood back up and discreetly dabbed a last, spilled drop from my lips, I couldn’t help but feel like the power balance between us had shifted. I no longer felt like the deer caught in the headlights, about to be plowed over. Maybe that just made me the stupid, over-confident roadkill—but anything was better than cowering before him, quaking with terror.

Darren had never been one to dwell on post-coital bliss, and his eyes only narrowed slightly as I engaged the stop button again, making the cabin resume its way down. I allowed myself a small smirk as I plucked my dress into place, glancing down at his flaccid dick.

“You should probably put that away. We wouldn’t want to cause a scene, now, would we?”

My timing was perfect—just as I turned around, presenting him my vulnerable back, the cabin came to a halt, and the doors started to open after the annoying “ding” rang out. Everything inside of me screamed to break into a run, but instead I gave him a last, bright smile over my shoulder and strode out into the foyer—where, among the expected mass of business people, Daliah stood, all innocent and sweet in a pastel dress that was utterly ridiculous for this time of year. She already had a smile on her face, clearly in anticipation of Darren, and it was comically funny to see it wane, then die as she recognized me. I’d never considered myself particularly vindictive, but it was easy to beam a bright smile at her—and lick some nonexistent cum off my lips.

“Daliah,” I said with the smallest nod I could muster as I strode by her. Then I was past and aiming for the door, having to rely on my sense of hearing to guess what was to follow.

“What are you doing up here? Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car?” Darren’s voice, the note of displeasure both tightening my throat and making my smile just a little more real. Oh, but someone was in trouble.

Daliah’s reply came with the to-be-expected note of defiance. “You were taking so long so I thought I’d come check on you.” A brief pause followed. “Did you just fuck her?”

I was so tempted to look back, but forced myself to pretend like I wasn’t listening in.

Darren’s voice was dripping with that off-hand derision that had torn holes into my defenses like few things before, back when it had been directed at me. “Don’t be ridiculous. Her dress would be a lot more creased if I’d bunched it up.”

That answer was so typically him that it made me snort under my breath, and it wasn’t a happy sound. Not a lie—and, technically, that was a true statement—but it was so far from the truth that it made me want to go over every single conversation that we’d ever had. Had any of the things I’d thought he was telling me ever been true?

The basement, that had been the truth. That’s when he’d stopped playing with me. Manipulating me. Telling me something while actually saying something completely different. I hated the sense of betrayal those memories evoked inside of me, but at the same time I also felt smug. Now, it was all honesty between us. At least from his side—I was the one playing games. And calling the shots, it would seem, judging from the high-pitched whiny reply Daliah offered, but I was too far away now to still catch it as I walked through the revolving door, out into the street.

I couldn’t even put my finger on it exactly, but somehow, things had changed. Maybe because during our first real encounter in the opera I had been all passive, and only now had gotten the chance to act. Maybe it was the simple fact that three times we had met now since my return, and I was still alive. Maybe it was just giving in to the madness and no longer denying that yes, I still wanted him—and things looked like he was just as interested in me. Only that I had nothing to lose—and he everything.

Beware, Darren Hunter—you just became the prey.

The number on Alison’s check should have already told me exactly how serious she was, but the fact sank in when, not two hours after I’d left her office, a harassed-sounding woman from the country club called me to confirm that my application had been approved, if I could provide my details to her as soon as possible. From what little other information she relayed, I could tell that she knew exactly who and what I was—and did not personally approve—but clearly, her superiors had overruled her moral objections. I was only too happy to hand over my credentials—and at the mention of my current residence any hint of disgruntlement on her side died a very quick death—and she hung up after assuring me twice that she was updating their system as we were speaking, and I was very welcome to tour the amenities this very afternoon, if I so pleased.

I didn’t take her up on that offer, but instead got on the phone with one of Brigitte’s contacts. From the itinerary that Alison had provided me with, it looked as if Darren still kept his Sunday morning appointment at the country club, which meant that, should she accompany him, Daliah was fair game for me there for a good few hours. I had no intention of emotionally ruining the girl, but if I could manage to get the hyenas to react to her like they had welcomed me way back when, I’d probably get her to run for the hills within a week or two.

But even if Alison had opened the gates for me, that barely set my stage. There was a lot more planning and plotting required before I could set foot in those hallowed halls, particularly if I wanted to make sure that in getting rid of the girl Darren wouldn’t find even more cause than before to come for me. Not that I could influence that, exactly—if it was still his intention to kill and preserve me for the afterworld, I doubted that I could sway him. But so far I had gotten the sense that I was a refreshing—if somewhat annoying—distraction for him, and on that I could build.

Brigitte’s contact proved to be a bust—a first, really—but he gave me a few more numbers to try. I should have spent the day doing Brigitte’s books, but instead I talked, bullied, whined, pleaded, and plain-out bribed my way down my newly provided contact list. In the end I got what I wanted, if for a price tag that was ridiculously inflated. Speeding up delivery cost me another leg—or so it felt—but I didn’t care. Next, I called my personal shopper, told her to cancel her other appointments, and when and where to meet me. The remainder of the evening I spent picking out the perfect outfits, down to shoes and accessories. The check Alison had written me by far didn’t cover half of those expenses, but like with my other project, I didn’t mind flashing my Black AmEx time and time again.