For His Eyes Only Read online

Page 14

“Schmucks.”

  “Yep.”

  She fell silent and Alex let his head drop to the soft ground while he savored the motion of her hands. She made her way from his toes to his thighs, over his ass and all the way up to his shoulders. Then she instructed him to turn over.

  He did, and while he took in the full moon that hung in the sky, the sounds of the waves bubbling against his feet, and Jacey sitting comfortably nude beside him, her skilled movements sending chills up and down his body, he doubted life could get any better.

  Then she cradled his balls in the softness of her palm, and he knew that it could.

  “Are you still with me?” She massaged him gently and circled his cock with her free hand.

  He nodded. His mouth moved, but he wasn’t sure if any sound came out. Afraid he was dreaming, he opened his eyes and saw her smile, felt her touch…felt himself lose control of his body.

  “Jacey, I’m going to—”

  “I know.” She released him and bent down to replace the rhythm of her hand with the suction of her mouth. With a groan, he gave in to the ecstasy in a series of pulsing eruptions. When he came down from his release, she lay next to him on the beach, watching him.

  “Did you like it?”

  He chuckled, reaching out to play with her long curls. “I’ll be surprised if you couldn’t tell. Now tell me, what can I do for you?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jacey had never been so unashamed of her body. She and Alex had run around the beach like a couple of nudists, and now she stood on the deck and patted her damp hair with a towel. All those tourists had it wrong. Sunlight, crowds and constrictive swimsuits couldn’t come close to the euphoria of playing naked on the beach at midnight as though no one else in the world existed.

  No one except Alex.

  He was down by the water, collecting their clothes from various spots on the sand. He’d unlocked the back door and told her to go inside and get comfortable, so she wrapped the towel around her and stepped into the house.

  She sipped an incredulous breath. Wow.

  Hardwood floors, leather furniture, glass-topped tables. It was an intimate cabin with an art deco touch, lit only by a crackling fire and soft moonlight.

  “What do you think?”

  She turned. Alex brought their clothes inside and shut the door.

  “It’s beautiful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel about you.”

  He stepped closer and offered her a single red rose. Stunned, she took it, inhaling its soothing scent. She would have expected a man with as much money as Alex to stuff the place floor-to-ceiling with bouquets of flowers, a stunt she would have found boastful and crass. But the single bud she held in her hand was as tender as the gesture itself.

  “Alex…”

  His eyes locked onto hers. “Anything.”

  “Make love to me in front of the fire. That’s always been kind of a fantasy of mine.”

  His gaze shifted toward the gleaming logs. He cleared his throat. “It’s not real. I hope that doesn’t squash the fantasy.”

  She smiled. “As long as you’re here, the fantasy is perfect.”

  They gathered a couple of pillows and a down comforter from the bedroom suite and arranged them on the floor next to the flickering light.

  “Perfect,” Jacey repeated, and they dropped their towels.

  She felt a sense of otherworldliness standing in that room, Alex’s bare skin against hers in the middle of the warmly lit house. They stood right in front of the wall of windows, but the sand and the ocean were all that could see the way he kissed her, right before he lay on the blanket and drew her down so she knelt atop him.

  Her hair curtained around his face. He raised his finger and traced the outline of her lips. For a moment she stared at him, lost in his impassioned gaze and unsure what to think about the sentiment that rose in her chest, threatening to dampen her eyes right in front of him. She took a shaky breath and lowered her face to his neck, tasting the salt that lingered on his skin from their romp in the water.

  His palms ran up and down the length of her back, making her shiver and igniting the flame deep inside her that had burned for him since the day they first met. She pressed her hips forward and trapped his cock against his abdomen. The hard length strained against her and when she was wet, she rocked back and forth against him, a sweet torture for both of them that left him begging for more.

  “Jacey,” he breathed. “Just put it inside you.”

  “Uh-uh,” she teased. “I want to hear about all those nasty things we haven’t done yet.”

  He nibbled her ear and coaxed her forward so he could suck on her nipples. She grabbed the back of his head.

  “I said the things we haven’t done. You already know that drives me crazy.”

  “Okay,” he murmured, his face still buried between her breasts. Finally, he pulled back and kissed her on the mouth. “Sit on my face.”

  Her eyebrows flew up.

  “You heard me.” He tugged at her hips. “Bring your pussy here so I can taste it.”

  She swallowed, so turned on by his demand she could barely keep her balance while she inched her way up his body, until his hands grasped her bottom and the soft, wet stroke of his tongue landed right where he’d promised.

  She had nothing to hold onto, so she arched back and steadied her hands on the floor between his legs, her hips shaking against the persistent motion of his lips and tongue. He licked her up and down, paused to suck on her clit, then did it all over again…oh, God. She shouted, more than once. She was going to die of ecstasy. The windows reflected a sight so erotic she nearly lost her balance. She couldn’t stand it for another minute. She had to give as much to him as she was taking.

  Abruptly, she turned to face the other direction, eliciting a grunt from him, but he wasted no time getting back to business when she settled down and took his cock in her hand. It was overwhelming, taking all of him in her mouth at the same time he kissed and stroked the most sensitive part of her. Could two people get any more intimate than this? Even when they’d had sex before, it hadn’t seemed as powerful and all-consuming as the way they now touched each other. It was certainly nothing she could imagine doing with anyone else.

  She chose not to spend any more time wondering what that might mean, because an orgasm rocked her to the core. Alex tugged her away before she could make him come. He sat up, buried his fingers in her hair and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

  She could taste herself, could taste everything they had shared since he’d brought her to this place, and she responded fiercely, kissing him deeply for so long she couldn’t breathe when they parted.

  “I want you.”

  “Right here.” He sounded equally breathless. He opened his legs and anchored himself to the floor, then motioned for her to sit on his lap, facing him. Slowly, she lowered her body onto his until he was inside her.

  They rocked together, heat generating between them—the sweat on their bodies, their warm, mingled breaths. The mutual massage was almost too slow to bear, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if steam began to rise around them.

  Finally, she cried out in frustration, so high in a state of rapture she just wanted him to take her. Hard.

  “Alex. I need more—faster—”

  He didn’t argue. She untangled her body from his, and a moment later he was above her, his first thrust a sweet reward for her twice-pleasured yet unsated sex, still swollen and aching for him to fill her.

  And he did. He drove into her with a force even stronger than the night at the park when she’d begged him to do it roughly. She welcomed the sound of each stroke when their bodies met. The rhythm grew faster and harder, the sounds in the room louder and more unintelligible, until her hips arched and her head lifted from the floor. His hands moved to her back, and he held her close to him while they shared an intense release. Only when she started to come back down did she realize the racket sh
e’d heard in the room had been their shouts and moans.

  Her breathing slowed. Alex guided her back down to the comforter, brushed a strand of hair from her face and watched her intently.

  “You’re shaking.”

  She smiled, uncertain, like a vulnerable young girl after her first time. “Yeah. That was…”

  “I know.”

  She was glad he knew, because she couldn’t finish her sentence.

  What seemed like hours later, she still lay awake. A wall clock ticked while she stared at Alex. He snored lightly beside her. They hadn’t moved since the orgasm that had almost made her declare a love she had no business feeling.

  Yet the words lingered on her tongue. I love you.

  She touched his face. If only life could be that easy—so she could tell a man like Alex she loved him, he would love her back, and they’d ride off into the sunset. But she knew better. Even if she dared to entertain the notion of Alex wanting her enough to be his wife, his father’s recently-exposed activities ruined everything. No way would she allow into her life another parent bound by a sick sexual obsession.

  She trailed her fingers down his chest, struck that the beautiful act she’d shared with him could cause so much pain. With Alex, sex was tender, erotic and safe. With her mother and his father, and so many other men she’d known, it was vulgar and dangerous. The contrast bewildered her.

  William Vaughn had founded Insomnia and still sat at the helm. With a loss of respect for him came a loss of respect for the company, and Jacey planned to cut all ties with the place once the competition ended. Though it saddened her to think about it, Alex was one of those ties.

  But what if he wasn’t?

  “Jacey?”

  She started. Alex’s eyes were open and looking right at her. “Is everything okay, honey?”

  She gnawed on her lip. Did she dare ask him the question that had popped into her mind?

  If she wanted him for longer than the two days remaining until the last show, she did.

  “I was thinking about you,” she began.

  He smiled and ruffled her hair. “I’m thinking about you too.”

  “I was wondering—” Oh, to hell with putting it nicely. “Have you ever considered finding another job?”

  “At Insomnia?” His brows crinkled.

  “No. Somewhere else.”

  He might as well have installed shutters on his eyelids, because that’s how closed off his gaze became whenever she mentioned the company in a negative way.

  His heavy sigh brushed a tuft of her hair. “Is this about my dad?”

  “No. I mean, not necessarily.”

  He rolled over and rested on his elbow, looking down at her, but his gaze softened before she could feel intimidated. “I can’t leave. I’m sorry. Let’s enjoy the rest of our night, okay?”

  End of discussion. His tone made that clear. She nodded and pushed the idea out of her head, instead choosing to savor what would probably be the last time they made love. It was the one thing they had always done well, the one thing they had always agreed on. If a future with Alex wasn’t in the cards, she would squeeze every ounce of pleasure she could from the present.

  Jacey woke up late Friday afternoon and smiled at the stinging between her legs that reminded her of the many hours Alex had spent inside her body. It was the sweetest pain she’d ever known.

  He had dropped her off at Monica’s yesterday, and though he had offered his condo to her again, she’d insisted she needed some girl time to prepare for Saturday’s finale. In truth, she needed time to finish gathering evidence so she could bust his philandering father before he reaped the benefits—monetary and otherwise—of the competition’s success.

  She padded into the bright kitchen and lifted her hand to shield the glare of the morning sun, unable to stifle a yawn. They had slept maybe two hours Wednesday night, moving to the bedroom around three a.m. and waking up again at five to continue making love. By the time she’d arrived at the house yesterday it was way past breakfast, and she had been sleeping ever since.

  She poured a glass of orange juice and then sifted through her mail, which thankfully had forwarded to the right place. She danced a little when she saw a letter from Alex’s mother. It was the final piece of evidence that would prove William Vaughn was and had always been a pedophile. She moved to the living room and collapsed on the sofa, releasing a pent-up breath.

  But as she read the feminine handwriting, the anticipation in her stomach turned to stone. She took a sip of orange juice and read the letter again, but nothing had changed except the bitter taste in her mouth.

  Melanie Vaughn confirmed her ex-husband had chased young models during their marriage. She offered her apologies that the behavior was still going on and praised Jacey’s efforts to stop it. But she also made it clear, very clear, that none of the witness testimony Jacey had collected would make a bit of difference in a courtroom.

  Hearsay, the letter stated. It would be nothing more than a young girl’s word against William’s, and the girls wouldn’t stand a chance against his high-profile lawyer. Her own experience during the divorce proceedings had proven that much. No, Melanie said, if Jacey wanted to catch William red-handed, she’d have to get her hands on tangible evidence that would demonstrate his illegal—not to mention immoral—behavior beyond a doubt.

  So…what? She was supposed to send a girl to William’s office with a video camera strapped to her chest? How would she get visual proof of his actions without being there herself?

  The answer hit like a sledgehammer. If she couldn’t take him to court, she could catch him in the act and turn him over to an outlet even worse than authorities—the press. But she would have to play the intended victim and get it on tape.

  It was possible—she was already forming a plan—but the notion of allowing that man to touch her made her want to heave the contents of her stomach into the toilet for the rest of her life.

  But then she thought of him putting his hands on Danielle. She thought of the venomous eyes of the man her mother had brought to her at fourteen years old and the way it felt when the creep in the store had touched her. She shivered. There was no way she could stand by and allow that to happen to other girls because she was too afraid to face William herself.

  She reached for her phone, then cursed. It still didn’t work. She dressed as fast as she could and drove to Monica’s shop.

  “Oh, honey,” Monica said when Jacey revealed her plan. “Are you sure you want to do that? There’s got to be an easier way.”

  Jacey squeezed the hand her friend offered. “I’m sure. Busting this guy will make every moment of misery worth it.”

  “And what about Alex? Does he know you want to send his dad to prison and put the company in jeopardy?”

  She was trying to ignore the fact that Alex had anything to do with the situation at all. And hearing the consequences so bluntly didn’t help. Alex wouldn’t see the reasons behind her actions. He would only know she was responsible for locking his father up and destroying Insomnia’s reputation.

  Could she really throw his future away?

  She looked at Danielle, who was spending a day off school stocking inventory and listening to the conversation with interest. Jacey’s heart broke. She hated to cause Alex pain, but she had no choice. Alex was a big boy. He had solid career experience and enough self-confidence to carry him down a different path if Insomnia folded. But the girls wouldn’t be so lucky. If they fell into William’s trap, it would affect them forever.

  “I tried to tell him,” she said quietly. “He didn’t believe me.”

  Monica shook her head. “Well, I can’t totally blame him, poor guy. Imagine finding out something like that about your own dad. Must be a shock to the system.”

  Jacey turned to Danielle. “So, what do you think? Is it okay if I use your name since he’ll remember having seen you at your interview a few days ago?”

  Danielle picked up the phone at the front desk. “Kim m
ight recognize your voice. I have a better idea.”

  Jacey watched in awe while Danielle spoke with total confidence. “I’d like to leave a message for Mr. Vaughn. This is Danielle Valdez. I’ve given his offer some thought, and I’d like to come in for a second interview.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The evening before the finale, Alex once again sat in his office chugging aspirin. He stared out the window. What would it be like to live as simply as the sea gulls that crowed and swooped over the sparkling bay? Surely they didn’t worry over last-minute costume orders that hadn’t arrived yet, advertisers who were dropping their accounts at Insomnia without explanation, or an assistant who seemed so distracted it would be a miracle if anything happened right tomorrow night.

  Not that he could talk about being distracted. The workday was almost over and he hadn’t accomplished a thing besides fantasizing about his favorite contestant. His night with Jacey had been nothing short of heavenly—until she had continued to press the issue of his father. She didn’t understand how important it was that he take control of Insomnia. In fact, she wanted him to leave.

  It had something to do with her independence and her fear of being controlled by someone more financially powerful, and while he respected that, he couldn’t give up the company after all the time he’d spent preparing for this moment. His promotion was close enough to taste. Once he snagged it, she would see that he wouldn’t treat her differently because of his title.

  “Alex.”

  Kim opened his door a crack and poked her head inside. “Your mother is on line two.”

  She left before he could answer, but he’d swear she was blushing. He didn’t know where her mind had been for the past couple of weeks, but it hadn’t been anywhere near Insomnia’s corporate office. She had even forgotten to initiate her daily flirting ritual, although he couldn’t say he missed that.

  Most likely, she was bogged down with organizing details for the competition’s finale. He could certainly understand that.

  He cleared his throat and picked up the phone. “Hey, Mom.”