Touch (Sovereign Book 1) (2 page)

My body went ramrod straight as I looked in his direction, and met piercing blue eyes that I swore could see right through me.

Without breaking eye contact, I said, “I’ve heard it’s hazardous to a man’s health to stay in that state for too long.”

He growled into my ear, the sound making me buzz with need. “Your mouth is making promises that should be made in person, preferably on your knees.” Even from ten feet away I could see his eyes fixated on my mouth, his look turning dark when my tongue darted out to run along my bottom lip. “And now I’m imagining your legs wrapped around my hips and my cock buried so deep, you wouldn’t know which way was up.”

“You’re very forward,” I said.

“And you’re irresistible.” Now my breath was all but gone.

“I think you might be making empty promises, Mr. Matthews.”

“There’s nothing empty about the promises I’m making. It’s just up to you how you’re going to let me prove them.”

My eyes drifted away from his to the screen, seeing that there were only thirty minutes of flight time left. Definitely not enough to take him up on his offer.

“Seems today is not our day. Definitely not this flight, anyway.”

“There’s still tonight. Besides, there are a lot more options to consider.”

“Such as . . .”

“I’d like to propose a game.”

“A game?” I asked, my interest piqued. I’d never been one to back away from a challenge.

“That’s all you’re going to get from me until after the flight. If you want to know more, you’ll find me when you disembark and give me the chance to prove I’m not a man who promises anything he doesn’t intend to deliver on.
Especially
when made to a woman like you.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I replied.

“Not lately. No one has garnered my attention, nor made a flight this entertaining for a long time. You’ve distracted me from my work, Ms. Jacobs.”

“Well, I’d hate to have it on my conscience that I was the cause of you getting in trouble. I’ll leave you to think about exactly what you’ll have the chance to do to me if I do in fact decide to find you after the flight. Until we talk again, Mr. Matthews.”

“Alyssa, I—” I didn’t hear any more because I’d ended the call, a knowing smile on my face as I felt his burning gaze on me. But I didn’t lift my eyes toward his again. Instead, I leaned against the window and stared out into the clear blue sky with my mind racing.

His words ran through my head like a porn movie on repeat—one with high definition and graphic detail.

As a single, free-spirited woman, there was nothing stopping me from taking Mr. Matthews up on his offer. All I had to do was find him after we arrived, when he’d promised to show me he wasn’t all talk. The relationship I had with Aiden—my friend from San Francisco—was casual. It was never explicitly stated by either of us, but neither of us were in a position to demand exclusivity. 

Nothing noteworthy happened during the remainder of the flight. There were no more drink deliveries or phone calls, and the one time I did allow myself to look toward Mr. Matthews’s seat, he wasn’t staring back at me waiting for another chance to talk his way into my panties. No, he was typing away at a computer in his lap, as if his offer wasn’t consuming his every thought.

Must have just been me then, because my entire body was ablaze with lust just from the few words we’d shared. I imagined him stripping me naked and bending me over the bathroom counter, in the plane, in a hotel room, heck—anywhere, and doing downright dirty and delicious things to my body.

I was going to be in Vegas for the weekend—the city of sin. There was no better place to hook up with a handsome stranger. 

All I had to do was work out how to find him.

I didn’t think finding him would be an issue but as hard as I tried, I didn’t see Mr. Matthews again once he got off the plane.

After waiting in the terminal for fifteen minutes, I decided to give up the hunt. Instead, I made my way toward the doors leading outside to find my driver. I spotted a gray-haired man wearing a black tailored suit and holding up a sign with my name. I walked over to him and introduced myself before I allowed the driver to stow my luggage in the trunk of his black Lincoln Town Car.

Once I was seated in the back, I couldn’t help myself. “Do you know where you’re taking me?” I asked the driver, hoping Gavin had indeed taken care of everything as promised.

“Yes, Ms. Jacobs. We’ll be arriving at the Sovereign Hotel shortly.”

He started the car, pulled away from the curb and headed for the Strip.

The lack of conversation gave me the time to think about the mysterious Mr. Matthews. I didn’t even know his first name and therefore, had no way to contact him. Frustrated as hell—both sexually and otherwise—I kicked myself for getting my hopes up that I’d see him again.

The way he’d spoken, the words he’d used to tell me exactly what he wanted to do to me—and
how
he wanted to do me—had me clenching my thighs together to ward off the aching between my legs. I really wanted to know more about the game he’d wanted to play. Resting my forehead against the car window, I sighed in defeat.

Since I wasn’t meeting up with Mom and Gavin until tomorrow, I had no firm plans apart from ordering room service, and potentially going downstairs to the hotel bar.

Maybe he didn’t want to be found. Maybe it had been a game. Maybe he was all talk and couldn’t follow through on the promises he made. I had no way of ever finding out, so there was no point dwelling on it.

“Ms. Jacobs, we’re here,” the driver announces, interrupting me from my thoughts.

Before I could move to get out of the car, the driver appeared at my side, holding the car door open.

“Thank you,” I said. I took in the opulent glass-to-roof doors leading into the hotel.

“Ms. Jacobs?” the driver asked from my side. Snapping out of my admiration of the stunning architecture in front of me—which I knew was an Alexander Richardson masterpiece—I turned to the side to see my suitcase and hand luggage being whisked inside by a porter.

“Um…,” I said, confused as to why the driver still stood there. “Do I—”

He smiled down at me, a common occurrence, since I was five foot eight. “Just the tip, ma’am.”

I gave him a twenty and after he nodded his farewell, I stepped off the sidewalk and in through the open door to the Sovereign, my home for the weekend.

I didn’t even think there was a word big enough to convey the sheer magnificence of the building. A huge white glowing
S
hanging from the roof like a custom chandelier illuminated the lobby, and a path of white marble tile encased in black granite flooring led the way toward the hotel’s reception where the staff were immaculately presented in all black, tailored uniforms. The women wore fitted pencil dresses, the men in matching tailored shirts, vests and slacks with pristine black dress shoes to complete the look. 

There was no doubt the attention to detail that had been paid to the design of such a masterpiece. As I made my way toward reception, I realized that everything, right down to the toss pillows on the couches and the signature decals on the lighting fixtures, had been chosen with meticulous precision.

“Hi,” I said to the perfectly presented receptionist. “I’d like to check in, please. My name is Alyssa Jacobs.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Jacobs. We’ve been expecting you,” she replied with a courteous smile. “You’re staying in one of the penthouse suites.”

My brows knotted together. “I don’t understand.”

The hotel clerk standing behind reception desk looked down to her computer then back up at me, her forehead pinched in frustration. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jacobs. It states here that you are to be taken straight up to the seventieth floor.”

“There must be a mistake,” I continued to explain, not expecting Gavin to spoil me like that. There was taking care of arrangements, then there was the VIP treatment. If my mother hadn’t told me about how good of a man he was and how well he treated her, I would have almost been suspicious.

“There’s no mistake, Ms. Jacobs. If you follow Bart . . .” she smiled at the young man now standing at attention beside me, “. . . he’ll escort you to your suite.”

Facing the young Bart, I had to bite my lip. It seemed that when paying attention to detail, this included employing extremely attractive—okay, hot—staff. “Okay,” was all I could say, a combination of tiredness, alcohol and pent-up lust obviously having taken their toll on me.

The hotel clerk looked over my shoulder and nodded at something or someone before gifting them a huge, radiant ‘come hither’ smile, but before I could see who she was aiming it at, Bart’s hand was at the small of my back and I was urged forward.

After the fastest elevator ride of my life, and having tipped Bart, I stood alone in the middle of what could only be described as a mansion in the sky, if there were such a thing in existence. Bart hadn’t exactly been the talkative type. I’d asked him all my go-to small talk questions about the weather, sports, and joked about which pop star would have the next meltdown, but all he did was smile at me like I was the last woman on earth and he was horny. And, to be honest, had the sexiest man on earth not propositioned me on my flight to Vegas, I might have decided to act upon it. But as it was, an hour after sharing air space with the mysterious Mr. Matthews, he was still forefront in my mind, and I tingled everywhere important when my mind drifted back to his words.

“If I had my way, I’d be following you inconspicuously to the restroom in about five minutes’ time where I’d proceed to spin you around to face the mirror. I’d grip your chin and turn your face to mine so I could kiss you while my other hand disappeared up your dress as you begged me to touch you.”

God, just the thought of him touching me—
anywhere—
had me imagining everything we could’ve shared. I would’ve let that man do whatever he’d wanted to me, with me. He could’ve been selfish and a minute man, but god, that minute would’ve been worth the lack of stamina.

“I’d like to propose a game.”

Oh, how I wanted to play games with him. Despite my initial reservations about a man who was forward enough to ring a stranger on a plane—from only a few seats away, no less—and proposition her, that voice, that body, those eyes . . . the whole package had me sold the moment I saw him. The flirting back and forth between us just sealed the deal.

Alas, it was obviously not meant to be. Like a ninja in the night, he’d all but disappeared at the airport. I figured he’d at least have made it a little easy to
find
him.

“And then I would run my index finger through your slick pussy, my thumb dragging across your hard clit as you bucked your hips against my hard cock grinding into your ass.”

Shaking my head, I realized that I needed a shower—and something else during it—to get all thoughts of Mr. Matthews out of my head. I started walking toward the bathroom when I heard a knock at the door. 

I spun around and backtracked toward the door to the suite, checking the peephole to see nothing but dusky gray colored wall. I slowly turned the door handle and opened the door to find a room service tray on the plush red carpet with a silver cloche on top.

Intrigued, I stuck my head out to look down the short corridor before bending over to pick up the tray and carry it into the suite.

Unable to wait to see what was under the dome, I quickly walked over to the eight seater dining table and placed the tray on top of the glass before lifting the cloche to find a black, sealed envelope.

Easing the red painted fingernail of my index finger underneath the seam, I carefully opened the flap to pull out a black folded card with Alyssa handwritten in silver on the outside. Flipping it open, my breath caught in my throat at what I read next.

If this is a game of cat and mouse, then consider yourself caught. You didn’t find me, so I found you. Now I’m ready to claim my prize. You. Eight p.m. Rooftop. Clothing optional. Yours soon, Barrett.

When the shock wore off, I placed the card on the table and smiled because I now knew his first name.