For His Eyes Only Read online

  Beauty vs. power—a dangerous game with the heart as the prize…

  Jacey Cass radiates confidence and sensuality just once a year, when she meets her rich and powerful lover for a night of anonymous sex. The rest of her calendar is filled with the daily struggle to survive. Her cashier job at Insomnia, Miami’s hottest lingerie shop, doesn’t go far toward college tuition, but she’s determined to rise above her mother’s freeloading legacy.

  Alex Vaughn is one promotion away from realizing his life’s ambition. For years he’s been forced to stand by and watch his father systematically destroy the values that made Insomnia great. Now, with an expected vacancy in the summer catalog, he takes a chance. He’s never formally met the fascinating woman he takes to bed every year, but he knows a marketable body when he sees one. The last thing he expects is for her to turn the opportunity down flat.

  Jacey won’t consider a handout—even from the man whose white-hot caress is the one bright spot of her life. Then a modeling competition’s prize money lures her from behind the register and into the blinding spotlight, unaware of what the cost could be to her heart…

  Warning: This title follows a young woman’s journey from fear of intimacy to trust in love, with frequent, explicit descriptions of the sensual lessons learned on the way.

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  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  For His Eyes Only

  Copyright © 2009 by Avery Beck

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-686-0

  Edited by Tera Kleinfelter

  Cover by Tuesday Dube

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  For His Eyes Only

  Avery Beck

  Dedication

  To JJ Sup, for endless support of my career, believing in me even when I don’t, and providing the Three C’s of Writing that have gotten me through seven manuscripts.

  Mom—you don’t have to dig through the trash to read my stuff anymore.

  Chapter One

  Sometime between the decision to take a drink and the act of getting his mouth on the glass, Alex Vaughn’s face had ended up between the sexiest pair of legs he’d ever seen. An unexpected elbow had jammed into his back and sent him careening forward, and for a moment, his position near the floor put her ankles at eye level. He let his gaze linger on the columns of sleek, cream-colored flesh that descended from a heavenly place above his head all the way down into a couple of strappy black stilettos.

  He didn’t dare look up for fear of an angry five-inch heel connecting with his eyeball, but the scenery in front of him made him long for this party to end so he could get on with the reason he attended the damn thing every year. Contrary to what the other employees believed, he wasn’t there to kiss up to his father.

  That was how he spent every other day.

  A shiny black toe nudged him in the shoulder. “Go ahead and look. You’ve seen it all before,” it said.

  Alex rubbed his temple and picked up his crystal champagne flute, taking a moment to remind himself that shoes didn’t talk. Maybe he should have passed up that last drink. He straightened to his full height and a woman’s mouth came into view, glossy and red and smirking at him with unwavering confidence.

  His reason. She had arrived.

  “We meet again.” He lifted the glass to his lips before remembering that its contents had splattered all over the carpet, narrowly missing his brand new Ferragamo loafers.

  Not that he cared much about overpriced footwear, but appearance meant everything at Insomnia’s annual black-tie soirée. Everyone from the chief executive to the newest salesgirl received an invitation to the August bash, and those who weren’t rich were still expected to look that way. As the CEO’s son, Alex could afford his designer suit, but at the moment all he could think about in regards to his clothing—and his companion’s—was the quickest way to take it off.

  He took the woman’s arm and moved over to allow the hotel staff to clean up the mess. She raised a brow at him, her pale blue eyes twinkling.

  “One too many?” she asked, nodding at his empty drink.

  White-blonde curls tumbled over her shoulders and onto her breasts, and Alex burned to rid her of the black dress every female in the room seemed to be wearing. Even so, there was no chance this lady could disappear in a crowd.

  With a chuckle, he dropped the glass onto a waiter’s passing tray. “Actually, someone bumped me from behind. But I’m grateful to that person, all things considered.”

  He slid his gaze down her legs and back up again, imagining what could have happened if they had been alone in the room when she’d first approached. He would have raised himself to his knees and skimmed his palms up the length of her thighs, then pushed that short skirt aside and found out if she was wearing something from Insomnia’s latest collection.

  Mesh and lace, black and red, however mixed or matched, those styles currently defined the bestselling items at Miami’s most popular lingerie chain. Alex knew firsthand that his mystery woman looked hot enough to melt a mirror in whatever lingerie she chose, and she tasted even better underneath.

  She licked her lips at his innuendo, then sipped her glass of red wine before walking it back to the bar, knowing he would follow her. He’d follow her to Timbuktu if it meant he would have a chance to run his hands over every inch of her skin and end up deep inside her lithe, naked body.

  “So.” She faced him and took his tie between her thumb and forefinger, slowly massaging the silk. “Are you finished playing Mr. Importance? I feel like getting out of here.”

  “Not tired of me yet?”

  “Are you kidding? This is my Christmas morning. The one day a year that I get everything I want.”

  Alex groaned softly as she circled her fingers around his wrist and leaned close to him so he could smell the hint of vanilla on her skin. He lowered his voice. “You know, I still don’t know your name, or what you do at this company.”

  “You like it that way.”

  “Well, it is…intriguing.”

  “The only reason I know your name is because your daddy always preaches to the press about the upcoming exchange of power. You guys ever going to finish that deal?”

  He rolled his eyes. His father liked to tell everyone that he proudly anticipated his son’s rise to the executive position. In reality, William Vaughn’s excuses for postponing his retirement grew more far-fetched every week.

  The last thing Alex wanted to think about was the long, hard fight he’d have to endure for his promotion. He raked his fingers through those soft curls and whispered in the woman’s ear. “If you didn’t know my name, what would you scream every year?”

  She threw her head back and laughed, a pleasant sound that revealed the relaxing effect of the wine and her readiness to move the celebration to his hotel suite. “You’re going for a world record, Vaughn. Can you make me scream your name four years in a row?”

  “I can, and I’m willing to prove it.”

  She grabbed his hand. “Then let’s—”


  “Alex!” A familiar but unwelcome female voice called to him, and his hand was empty again.

  His assistant, Kim Starr, rushed to his side. “There you are. I’ve got to talk to you. Alone,” she added with a pointed glare in the direction of his acquaintance.

  The fire in his blood doused for the moment, he excused himself and joined Kim in a secluded corner of the room. He wanted to blow off her request as one of her schemes to get him alone and eventually into bed, but the edge in her voice concerned him. His impending promotion had put Insomnia on the radar of entertainment journalists all over the city, and if there was a problem, he’d do well to take care of it.

  “What’s the problem, Kim?”

  “I just talked to the photographer who’s shooting our summer catalog next month. We’ve lost our top model.”

  “Stephanie? She quit?”

  “Mr. Vaughn fired her because she’s four months pregnant and it’s starting to show.”

  Alex pressed his hand against his forehead. He had just seen the supermodel last week, and for the first time since her last pregnancy, she hadn’t looked anorexic. But his dad didn’t appreciate a woman’s natural shape unless the smallest thong in stock slipped right onto it.

  “All right, let’s not panic,” he said, though he couldn’t deny her statement lit a spark of queasiness in his stomach. Insomnia prided itself on the summer catalog, which always boasted a world-famous cover model. As Vice President of Corporate Image, Alex was responsible for the final product—and without Stephanie, the company’s largest marketing effort would be screwed. And so would his promotion and the only chance he had to take back what he and his mother had earned.

  Screwed. The thought pushed his gaze back to the blonde beauty waiting for him at the bar and the ways his body would be tangled up in hers if Kim hadn’t chosen this moment to give him news that could wreak havoc on his career.

  He had to have her.

  The added stress of Kim’s announcement only made his heart pound faster and sent his libido through the ceiling. He needed release, and he needed the woman who always provided it with exceptional skill on this night.

  He didn’t know her name. Whenever he asked her something personal, she changed the subject. He didn’t mind the lack of conversation too much, because words wouldn’t do justice to the language her body spoke to him. When she’d made her first appearance at the event three years ago, they’d exchanged a heated look that had led to sneaking into an empty restroom and having sex on the counter between the sinks. The next year they’d done it in the backseat of his Mercedes, and last year he had finally taken her to the king-size bed in his hotel room.

  They were strangers who had no contact during the rest of the year. But every summer, they met at the party and fell into bed—or onto the nearest available surface—for unbridled, anonymous sex. It had become somewhat of a tradition, one so alluring that he intentionally attended the party alone.

  “Listen, Kim, I’m very busy right now. Let me get back to you—”

  Her brown eyes flashed. “Busy? Are you joking? Alex, this is a priority. If we don’t have a model—”

  “We’ll have a model. I’ll make some phone calls tomorrow and this will be a non-issue on Monday.”

  Leaving her agape behind him, he pushed his way through the crowd, finally regaining precious contact with his companion.

  “Excuse me.” He nodded to the balding finance guy who’d been trying to pick her up. “My date and I need to go.”

  Recognizing Alex and his status, the man held up a surrendering hand and wished them a good night.

  “No more interruptions.” He brushed his lips against her ear and led her out of the room.

  They waited for the elevator. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, a chaste kiss appropriate for the public eye should anyone catch them. But when she pulled back and stared at him, the way her eyes darkened spoke volumes about the unchaste activities she expected to take place once they made it to his room.

  Thankfully, the elevator doors closed before anyone else joined them. She slipped her arms inside his jacket, and the heat of her touch penetrated his shirt fabric while he pressed her to the wall, thrust his tongue into her mouth and ground his hips against hers.

  “Well,” she teased when he rested the solid crotch of his pants against her thigh. “I can tell you’re ready.”

  He closed his eyes, his hunger for her made almost unbearable by the taste of sweet wine she left on his lips. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be ready too.”

  He put his hand beneath her skirt and trailed his finger along the satin edge of a soaking wet g-string, smothering her approving moan with another kiss. The ache in his groin intensified.

  “I think you’re right,” she gasped when he let her go.

  The doors opened. They greeted an older couple waiting to take the elevator and managed to maintain their composure until the door to his room locked behind them.

  Then he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I’ve got to have you,” he insisted, expressing the thought that had plagued him all evening. He stepped up behind her and kissed the back of her neck, then lowered the zipper of her dress, his mouth following each tooth as it opened.

  By the time he reached the zipper’s end, he was kneeling on the floor with the skinny strap of those panties right in front of him, urging him to tear the thing off. But he had just one night a year with her, and he wouldn’t end it within the first three minutes.

  The dress and the lingerie hit the floor before he had a chance to contemplate his next move. He looked up, managing to catch the mischievous grin on his lady’s face before she turned and strode across the room, the silken curves of her ass draped in nothing but moonlight.

  He stood, his fingers clenched with the need to touch her. “Where are you going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She opened the French doors that led to a private terrace and disappeared around the corner. “Care to join me?” her voice called through the darkness.

  He nearly ran to the balcony, stopping just long enough to pull protection from his pocket and take off his suit. When he found her, she was shoulder-deep in the hot tub, curling her index finger at him.

  “Hurry,” she whispered. He could see her squirming beneath the bubbly surface.

  “You sure know how to make a man crazy.”

  He sank into the warm water and pulled her against him, relishing the reunion of their naked bodies. The money and power that accompanied his position at Insomnia never left him without a date for long, but this woman was no ordinary piece of arm candy. She charged him like an electric current, and their annual rendezvous was just about the only time he felt like a flesh-and-blood man instead of a corporate puppet.

  Without exception, when he took other women out, they immediately brought up his job. Each of them shared a mammoth interest in his money and his ability to discover the next pin-up girl.

  But not this one. The woman in front of him was wet, naked, and beautiful—and completely uninterested in his paycheck. He didn’t think he’d find a more perfect woman if he could design one himself.

  Her fingers entwined in his hair, tugging him from his thoughts. She kissed him with a desperation that seemed to match his and pushed him down until he sat on the tub’s ledge, the water swirling around his ribs. Then she straddled his lap.

  “I need your touch.”

  Her words energized him and brought his full attention back to the reason they were there. He dropped his hand under the bubbles, skimming her torso until he found the softness between her thighs and unraveled her desire.

  “Here?”

  “Alex…” She surged against his chest and her fingernails dug into his shoulder.

  “That wasn’t a scream,” he objected.

  “Not yet it wasn’t.”

  He massaged her, increasing the pace of his stroke while she squirmed and begged and then came hard, bucking against him and crying out l
oud. Still trembling, she shifted in his lap, took his shaft in her hand and rubbed it against her flesh.

  “Do it,” she urged.

  Her pleas turned to moans when he complied, slipping inside her and reacquainting himself with her warmth, her kisses, her cries. When he was lost in the taste and scent and feel of her, once again sharing with her the deepest kind of intimacy, he realized there was one problem with his perfect woman.

  He didn’t know her, not the way he should. At least she could list some of his basic information, like his position at the company and what his mother had been calling him since birth. He couldn’t do the same for her. He knew that if he leaned down and sucked on her nipple right now, she’d come again. And if he gently bit the tender spot on her neck, right behind her earlobe, she’d arch backward and push him further into her body.

  It was incredible, but it wasn’t enough. Not when he held her so close that he couldn’t tell his breath from hers, and when he kept imagining waking up in his bed at home with her beside him.

  He anchored one hand on her hip and brushed the other through her mass of platinum curls, the ends wet and clinging to her breasts. “Tell me your name.”

  She blinked, uncertainty clouding her face. But he looked into her eyes and moved slowly within her, and she relaxed. “It’s Jacey.”

  “That’s a lovely name.”

  “Thank you. Alex.” She giggled, then gasped and held tightly to him as he began to thrust harder. Her hips matched his intense rhythm, and he broke into a sweat caused by more than the temperature of the water.

  At last, he knew her name. The feeling of making love to Jacey instead of that woman launched his arousal into overdrive. Waves splashed over the sides of the tub while she rode him, and he was vaguely aware of their passionate shouts echoing in the hot, black night.

  The spa’s acrylic surface became uncomfortable after one round, so they went inside and made use of the huge bed. He buried his hands in her hair and sank deeply into her body, content to watch her expressions as the last remnants of his champagne buzz turned to the euphoria of sexual pleasure. With every thrust a groan rumbled in his throat, each motion threatening to take him over the edge until finally, with him short of breath and her clawing at his back, one took them both.