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aaasorcha_finalSigInstallment #1

Installment #2

Adriana walked into Holden’s Supper Club. The lights were low, the music sultry, and the staff beautiful. The need to needle Lucas–Mr. Bowerton–had her defiantly dressed in a conservative black pencil skirt and matching black blouse. The side of her that had been drawn to meet the man for dinner, that had submitted to his touch in her office, that side of her had chosen to wear a garter belt, seamed hose, no panties, and an eye grabbing red bra which peeked from her cleavage. The civil war within had made her late for dinner.

She approached his table, unsure what she expected from the meeting, but certain she wanted more time with the compelling man. He stood as she greeted him, perused her ensemble from her neatly pinned up hair to her basic pointy toed black pumps.

His brow lifted. “Perhaps you misunderstood my directions?”

Her thighs quivered at his rich dark tone, even as her defiance reared up to meet his verbal jab. “Perhaps you are lucky I joined you for dinner?”

“Not luck, my dear.” He took her hand and guided her into the booth he had occupied.

One of those curved booths designed for intimacy, she slid over as he sat down next to her. “Mr. Bowerton, I am here because I want to know what you know of Project Cobra. Nothing more, nothing less.” She ignored the pang of regret over her lie. She knew a part of her was curious to see if she would react to the man in the same way she had earlier. Had the interlude in the office been an anomaly or was there something more there. Some spark of awareness, attraction, whatever you wanted to call it between them? Secretly, deep down in her heart of hearts, a quiet little voice asked the question she most wanted answered. Could he truly command her submission? Not since her mentor had she met a man who truly understood her. Who could own her pleasure the way she needed. She sighed. This would most likely be a complete waste of her time. Why had she bothered?

“Oh, Adriana. I believe you are here for much, much more.” He lifted his glass of red wine to his lips and sipped.

Her eyes were drawn to the rise and fall of his Adam’s Apple. The way his throat muscles worked up and down as he swallowed. How firmly, yet gently he held the goblet in his big, strong hand. How his long elegant fingers cupped the bulbous glassware, covering the curvature with his skin. Her nipples beaded and the quivering in her thighs had crept higher to become a distinct tingling around her mons. “I’m certain nothing I say will dissuade you from your beliefs. You strike me as a man filled with self-determination.”

He smiled and offered a nod as he set the glass down. “Indeed, I am. I would say you are cut from similar cloth. Full of fire and the need to succeed.”

“I like to believe so, Mr. Bowerton.” She pulled the waiting glass of red wine toward her and took her own sip. Her rather dry mouth required moisture of some kind, no matter how inadequate she found as memories of his kiss assaulted her.

“Oh, I know so. I do my homework. Now, please, dispense with the formality.” He leaned in close, his spicy scent wrapping around her, teasing her. Then his warm breath drifted across her cheek and ear as he whispered, voice husky with desire, “I want to hear my name drip from your lips as it did earlier today.” He lingered in her personal space, drew in a deep breath and slowly sat back.

Her head spun. But from what? His scent? His words? His proximity? All of them? Her panties were wet and her nipples hard as the very same need that had thrummed through her earlier returned with a vengeance. Her pussy throbbed and no amount of crossing and uncrossing of her legs could sooth the savage need nestled high between her legs. Only a cock would do. His cock, or so it seemed.

Well, she had the answer to her deep dark question. Without a doubt, the man could own her pleasure. He had yet to touch more than her hand, and already she was restless with need. If he began making demands she might melt into a puddle at his feet. But damn it, she did not want him to know how strongly he affected her.

“Mr. Bowerton, that would be most improper. A re-repeat of this afternoon can never happen again.” Heat suffused her cheeks and she wondered if he could see the flush in the low light.

“Ah, Adriana. A repeat of this afternoon will absolutely occur except we shall not be interrupted as we were today.”

He stated this as though it were a given. As though her capitulation was a foregone conclusion. Anger, lust, and a desperate need to retain some power surged through her. Project Cobra was too important. Darrington’s survival was too important to allow this man to waltz into her life and dump all she had worked for on its ear. She struggled to tamp down her desire and take back the upper hand. With a deep breath she decided it was time to knock the king of the hill off.


Lucas sat and watched as the incredibly sexy woman next to him searched for her composure. The color staining the curve of her cheek bones and the restless shifting of her legs were tell-tale signs that she wanted him as much as he did her. And oh, how he wanted her. His cock had remained hard the rest of the day, which had made his other meetings damned hard to sit through and even awkward at times. Nonetheless, Adriana had captured his undivided attention. Everything about her drew him. Her inner strength, the heart she wanted so desperately to hide from everyone. The soft herbal perfume of hers that teased his nose and made his mouth water. If he could have, he would have swept the table clear and laid her out as his first course.

A spot of color caught his eye as she leaned forward for her glass of wine. Like a predator stalking its prey, he waited and watched. There, as she sat back he caught the glimpse of red lace tucked into the shadows of her cleavage. He muffled a groan. Okay, while at first deciveing, clearly the woman did not understand how not to be sexy. The understated black conservative clothes hinted and teased at her attributes. The red bra shouted her inner vixen lurked beneath the surface, he merely needed to draw her out. And now he wondered what other secrets might lay beneath her stolid exterior.

She took another sip of wine and then lifted her lashes to focus her gaze on him. “So, Mr. Bowerton. I am curious as to what you have learned about Project Cobra.”

She wanted to talk about her pet project and all he could think about was stripping off her blouse so he could see her lingerie. “Enough to know we’d like to give it the opportunity to succeed.”

“Mmmm…” She set her glass down. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“Why is that? Bowerton International has always pursued innovative technologies that will enhance the lifestyles of our consumers.” He considered what he knew. Had he missed something?

“Since Cobra would effectively squash your best selling product to date. I simply find it interesting you might want to support it.” She shrugged casually.

Lucas paused to consider what he had and had not heard about the project. It was rumored to revolutionize the personal electronic device market. It could be ready within the next six to twelve months depending on prototype tests which were underway currently.  And, most importantly of all, Adriana was personally overseeing the project. An unusual role for the CFO of the company to take. “Well, if we own Darrington that wouldn’t be an issue now would it?”

A flicker of doubt flashed across her face. “No. But since I plan to prove to the shareholders that selling is not to their benefit I would think you would be more worried than you are.”

Damn her confidence was sexy. They had yet to even order an appetizer and he wanted nothing more than to drag her out of the restaurant and find the nearest private spot to ravish her. And not in any genteel way. He wanted to rip those staid garments from her curvy body and feast on the bounty of her flesh. He wanted to spread her legs and taste her pussy before he slammed his cock into her so hard she would forever remember and compare every other man to him. He leaned in to her again, determined to rattle her composure and shift the course of the conversation before she figured out how little he really knew. “What I am worried about, is how long it is going to take me to convince you it is time to go.”

She looked at him in utter confusion. “Go? But I just arrived.”

“Yes, but I have no intention of sitting here all night wondering what lies beneath those clothes. I fully intend to take you home and strip every last scrap of fabric from your body. Then I will lay you out on my dining room table, sit down, and feast upon your succulent wet flesh. And you pussy is wet, I can smell the heady mix of your perfume and your desire with each shift of your legs.”

Abruptly, she stopped moving and stared at him. A cough sputtered from her chest. “Excuse me? Did you just tell me you can smell me?”

“I did, and I can. But, before we go, I want your panties. I want to know that you are walking out of here on my arm with out a scrap of material cupping that sopping slit of yours.”

She paled, flushed, and then a soft moan rumbled from her throat. Still in proximity, he nuzzled her neck as her head dropped back and the column of her throat was exposed. He refrained from licking her since there was no doubt that would only lead to indecent things for a public restaurant no matter how dark the corner they were in. She swallowed but neither moved to answer his demand nor refuse it.

He studied her. “I can see the war raging inside your head. Will you or won’t you meet my demand? I think you want to, your parted lips and heavier, more measured breaths suggest you are turned on by my command. And yet, you have not complied.”

She bit her lip. Indecision written across her face.

“If you don’t give me your panties in the next thirty seconds I promise I will spank you when we get to my rooms.” He allowed a hint of cool control to color his words with the command that normally evoked the response he desired in his subs.

Her spine stiffened. “I don’t recall agreeing to leave with you.”

A chuckle escaped from him. “Pet, your head better hurry up and catch up with your body because it is already half-way out the door.” He rose from the booth, dropped a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the bottle of wine and reached out for her. Her eyes had glazed over and she moved almost as if by rote. A war was still being fought, but while her head engaged on that other front, her body had snuck around the battle lines and was well on it’s way to victory. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the restaurant. If he played his cards right, she would be in his rooms before she made up her mind. Her body had the answer, it was just her head that needed to figure out how the night was going to end.