Slightly Sinful (10 page)

Pamela’s satisfaction was apparent through the phone in her singsong voice. “Now. Tell me all the details.”

“I’m going to give it to you down and dirty, because I don’t have time to drag it out.”

Pamela’s voice showed her confusion. “What do you mean you don’t have time? We have dinner every Tuesday night. I’m on my way to your house with Italian food.”

Oh, hell
. She had been so wound up regarding Nicholas Torres she had forgotten to cancel on Pamela. “Oh, my God, it totally slipped my mind. I can’t make--”

“Don’t say another word. I’m pulling up now.”

The line went dead and Delilah tossed the phone onto her bed. She didn’t need to open the door for Pamela. Both she and Darren had keys to both her house and car. Getting locked out and dealing with overbearing men were her pet peeves, but apparently, she still worked through that one.

Her skin now dry, she grabbed the new cherry scented body lotion off her vanity and began rubbing liberal amounts of emulsion on her body from her neck to feet. No perfume tonight. She was setting the stage to drive him wild.

Then after she told him exactly what she thought of him, she would leave him hot, hard, and horny, returning the favor from the afternoon.

As she replaced the tube of cherry fragrance, she heard her front door open moments before Pamela came charging into the room. “I knew it! What time are you supposed to meet him?”

She looked at her friend standing in the open doorframe of her bedroom, a ball of energy. “His car will be here in less than thirty minutes.”

“Then let’s make this fast.” Flouncing into the room, Pamela sat on the bed, crossed her legs and rested her chin in one palm, with a look of juicy expectation etched on her features.

Turning on the stool, Delilah faced her friend. “Cutting to the quick, I met him at the overnight getaway.”

“No fucking way. I ended up with Silverman… who, don’t get me wrong, knows how to treat a girl. I’ve been with him twice since we got back.”

“Twice? Today is only Tuesday and we just got back Sunday.”

“On Monday he walked into the boutique and we did it in the private showing room, with customers occupying three of the other rooms. Then he picked me up and took me to Blue’s where he arranged lunch for us in a private room. They don’t even open normally ‘til five,” Pam squealed in delight. “Needless to say, I did not return to work afterward. But, we are talking about you, not me. I would trade Silverman in a minute if I would’ve known that Torres was there. But, damn his pictures are always in the shadows and I’m never really sure what he looks like. How did you come upon him?” her friend asked with pun intended.

“Actually, I didn’t know it was him when we met.” She rose and moved to her closet, not feeling shy or ashamed in front of Pamela. They’d both seen each other naked too many times for the moment to be awkward.

“Before we go any further, what are you wearing?” Pamela asked.

“My Marilyn Monroe dress with the cut out halter.”

“No.” Pamela shot off the bed past her and walked deep into the closet. Pushing dresses out of the way, she found what she looked for and held it up. “If you want him to fall out with desire then you need to bring out the heavy artillery.”

“Yes.” Delilah said, stepping toward Pamela. She had forgotten about her red macramé evening gown. A year ago, she’d bought it with her friend’s urging and had never found the right occasion to wear it. Just like Pamela, she knew this night with Nicholas Torres was it.

They called it the orgasm dress. A vivid red dress with a deep plunging v-neck that ended in a diamond shaped pattern over her stomach, it dropped in a full-length skirt that hit her ankles in the front. The gown knotted at her shoulders then made twisted designs down across her back, revealing more skin then fabric. The dress cut so low that only a thread kept the split between her ass cheeks from showing, but it made wearing underwear impossible. The final touch was the train.

Going to her shoe closet, Delilah returned with a pair of four-inch heeled, red, double-strapped shoes dangling from her fingers.

Pamela assisted her into the dress while she finished the story.

“So, what are you going to do?” Pamela questioned.

Fully dressed now, she unwound the towel from around her head, allowing her natural waves to tumble down. Finger combing it, she recklessly pinned it up, letting a few tendrils on one side fall along her face, and leaving the nape of her neck and back bare. “Exactly what this dress says. Leave him wanting.”

Pamela eyed her in the cheval mirror. “Can you do that? I know I can. But, you? I’ve never known you to do the things you’ve told me you’ve done with Nicholas. That alone tells me there are more to your feelings than what you want me to believe.”

Slipping ruby studs into her ears and adorning her wrist with a matching bracelet, her voice lifted in confidence. “Look, I’ll be honest with you, Pamela. That one night with him blew my mind. I’ve thought about him constantly since then. But, I still know now what I realized then. It could only last for that night and not a minute more.”

Her doorbell announced the arrival of Nicholas Torres’ car.

Grabbing her small clutch purse, she stuffed her lipstick and identification inside then headed toward the door. “If I thought for one moment that this world traveling gypsy was remotely interested in staying in one place long enough…” She let the statement die out, her heavy heart forbidding her to finish the statement.

She reached out to open the door and heard Pamela’s voice behind her. “Just remember, Lila, even Cinderella got another chance after the clock struck twelve.”

Without turning around or answering, Delilah pulled the door and left her house.

~YH~

Delilah stepped off the elevator on the top floor of Torres Towers into Nicholas’ suite to find him waiting. He stood attired in an elegant black suit and crisp white shirt open at the collar and no tie.

“You look amazing.” He stepped forward and handed her a glass of wine. “Whoever said that redheads couldn’t wear red didn’t know you.”

“Thank you.” She was a bundle of nerves. Grateful for the wine, she drank half the glass, allowing its unctuous taste to calm her senses, her palate recognizing the expensive flavor. “Very good.”

He smiled, acknowledging her view of his selection as he led her deeper into the main room. When they reached the table, he assisted her into her seat. Delilah heard his breath catch as he noticed the back of her dress. She couldn’t resist a small secret smile.

 “
Chateau La Mission Haut-Brion
. It’s one of my favorites.” Nicholas’ words brushed her ears as he leaned toward her and spoke low. “It is most tantalizing because it has no shame in revealing all its qualities at once.”

It was her turn to stop breathing as he gave her choice of apparel his approval.

He moved around to his side of the small table, and with perfect planning and execution, a three man waiting staff came out and brought platters covered with sliver tops and placed them on the table.

“I hope you like sushi?”

Her mouth watered. “I love it.” She watched as they unveiled each dish covered in an array of Japanese food. Noticing the inscription on one of the tops, she asked, “Does that say
Masa
?”

“Yes, of New York,” he confirmed.

Nodding at the staff, two of them exited and one remained, refilling their wine glasses then placing the remainder of the bottle on the table and departing.

The new restaurant in Time Warner Center was one of the most expensive and exclusive, and Nicholas had managed to have them cater their meal, which meant each succulent morsel he had them fly in for their dinner. She was impressed. Even though she should not have been, he proved a world-class playboy. He probably did this for everyone he dated. Like a magician who impressed the audience by pulling a rabbit out of his top hat.

“I don’t.”

She looked across the table at him. “What?”

“Do this for every woman I’ve dated. Matter of fact, you’re the only one.”

Yeah, right
. “Are you a mind reader as well?”

“No. Your face is just very
expressive
.” The last word he flavored with his Latin lilt.

Choosing to ignore him, she removed the napkin from the table and placed it in her lap. Picking up serving utensils, she placed food on her plate. Then selecting her dinner fork, she began eating. Anxiety of this evening had stolen her appetite, but as she sat in front of the succulent display, she became ravenous.

Nicholas followed suit and the two made small talk while they ate and disregarded the issues surrounding them for the moment.

Satisfied, she set down her fork. The dress left no room for overindulgence in food. Pouring herself a third glass of wine, she rose from the table and walked out onto his balcony. The cool early fall evening caressed her skin as she stared out over the city skyline, aware of Nicholas coming up beside her. “So, who are you?”

“I’m Roberto Sanchez,” he repeated the name he had given her on Cat Island.

Turning and facing him with anger, she let loose her tirade. “Oh, please, just stop. This isn’t some secluded island paradise, it’s the real world and everyone knows you’re the elusive Nicholas Torres.”

“I am--” he began again.

Delilah’s voice cut him off. “Why did you feel the need to lie to me,
Nicholas
?” His name dropped from her mouth like venom from a snake. “You were already getting a free fuck.” Her voice broke.

He seized her shoulders and pressed her against the ledge. She could feel the concrete biting into her shoulder blades.

His voice lowered to a husky, warning tone. “My name is Nicholas
Roberto Sanchez
Torres.”

His hands, though firm in his hold, didn’t hurt her. She had no fear of him injuring her physically. It was her emotions that were in danger. She could feel the hard length of his body as it pressed into hers, the brush of his chest against her erect nipples with every breath he took.

Standing this close to him and feeling his heat, her arousal level that had been brimming on the edge the entire day began to surface once again. It didn’t build slowly, but began where they left off in the media room. Her thighs ached to have his strength between them, and her sex bloomed with desire.

Pushing away from him, she downed the remainder of her wine and set it on the glass deck table then walked back into the suite. Subconsciously she noticed that the wait staff had already cleared the table in the short amount of time they had been on the porch.

Delilah paced the wood floor in the living room when Nicholas entered. Removing his coat and putting it over the back of a couch, he silently watched her.

Stopping, she faced him. “However you want to dress it up, you still deceived me, because you knew the moment that you said Nicholas Torres, I would’ve known who you were. Who the public knows you as.”

“Yes, the public does know me by that name, but I am Roberto only to people who are close to me.” Moving closer, he whispered, “Those I hold dear.”

Did she want to believe his words and trust her heart to what he implied? “Nicholas, this--”

“
Roberto
,” he corrected, speaking his own name, rolling the 'r's, as if he were talking in Spanish, as he took a step closer.

Her heart leaped in her chest. She stepped back with each step he took forward. Deciding not to call him anything, she began again. “This isn’t going to work. It was only--”

“
Roberto
. Say it,” he repeated, his eyes imploring her to give in as he continued his advances.

Stumbling, she grabbed the back of her dress, holding the train away from the floor and keeping it from impeding her steps. “We can’t fool ourselves and I--”

He was a man of a one-track mind. He called out his name to her again. “
Roberto
. You had no problem saying it that night. Calling it out. Begging me to fuck you.”

Dropping the dress, she threw her hands up between them. “Roberto, stop!”

As if hearing his own name paralyzed him, he stopped a short distance away. Damn, everything about this man turned her on. Their little chase around the furniture had her so excited, the juices from her sex seeped onto her inner thighs, causing them to feel slick when they touched. She throbbed.

As if he knew her body’s reaction, his eyes trailed down the length of her, pinpointing the hot area hidden behind the folds of material. His nostrils flared then he returned his gaze to hers.

“This is more than just about a name.” Her hand lowered. “I put every beat of my heart over the years into my company, so that I could feel pride in what I accomplished.” She paused. “For you to waltz into my life and orchestrate me getting the contract as payment for me sleeping with you…” Her voice trembled, making it impossible to finish. More than anything that had happened between them, she felt used. When she’d seen him that morning at his company, the idea that she didn’t deserve the contract had pained her.

His head tilted and he just stared at her for a long moment.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she waited in expectation of his confirmation of what she had surmised.

“Your pussy may be good. No, I correct myself. Delicious, from your clit to your sweet tight ass, but it is not that good.” His chest expanded as he took a deep breath.

Delilah could see a sharp vein leap on the side of his forehead. He was pissed.

He began again, his thick accent coating each word. “I am a business man, and just like you, I have put in blood, sweat, tears and more than you could ever imagine. I have sex with beautiful women all over the world, and in Cat Island, I could have had anyone. But I chose you.”

She was just as angry, to the point that her eyes burned as if sweat rolled inside. “Unlike you, I’ve never had a problem in having my face on the cover of magazines or other places. So you want me to believe that when you saw me on Saturday, you didn’t recognize me and know that my contract sat on your office table?”

“I knew who you were,” he confirmed.