Mogul
Page 3

 Katy Evans

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He reaches my desk and leans forward. I didn’t think it was possible, but he looks hotter and taller from where I am standing.
“You’re an interesting discovery, aren’t you?” he says, unsmiling but obviously curious.
“I’ve existed for a long time; you didn’t discover me.”
“Oh, but I have. Or you me.”
Maybe he’s right. It feels like my existence was all so dull and monotonous until I climbed into the back of this guy’s cab.
“I’m tired. Had a long day. I was going out to get a glass of wine and a light dinner before heading off to bed. Would you join me?” He raises his brows.
“I’m on the clock until midnight.”
“I understand. What time do you have free tomorrow?”
“I’m covering for a friend, so not until 9 p.m.”
He nods and walks off.
Boo. He must not be as interested as I thought. Suddenly I want to wail.
Instead, I pull myself together and get busy behind the desk. I field a couple of calls regarding tickets to Broadway, directions to a restaurant, and in-room Netflix access.
I am finishing up with a family when the phone rings. I’m the only concierge on the night shift tonight, so I leap up to answer.
“Concierge, this is Sara speaking.”
“Here’s the thing. At 12:01 a.m. sharp I want you upstairs, in my room. Pantyless. Braless. And with that sexy smile of yours. Oh, and wear your hair down.”
“I’m sorry, Mr.… Who is this?” I know exactly who it is, but I want to tease him. And I want to know his name.
“Just be there. Dinner and drinks will no longer do.”
“Oh, I’m sorry your evening has been—”
“I’ll allow you to appease me in my room.”
“I apologize, but I’m swamped.” In my panties. “But there’s room at the hotel restaurant if you’d like to come down for dinner,” I say as professionally as I can and hang up with trembling hands.
When he walks down to the lobby ten minutes later, he is bathed and dressed in a navy blue button shirt and dark slacks. Our eyes lock, my nipples pebble, and my mouth waters.
“Hello. Directions to Daniel, please.”
His features are chiseled to perfection, more noticeable now that he has slicked his hair back behind his forehead.
“Of course,” I say, impressed by his dining choice there. He watches me as I take out a map and mark the restaurant’s location with a red X. It’s been a while since I’ve given out a paper map. With GPS so prevalent, it’s allowed concierges to focus on other things.
Like how truly dark his eyes are, and how deeply I sense them watching me from under his lashes. He leans forward as I hand him the map, and the cologne on his skin teases my lungs into breathing a little faster. His hand fully covers mine, and crackles race up my arm and somehow down my legs.
He acts as if he doesn’t notice my reaction and casually pockets the map.
“Tomorrow then, at nine.” He shoots me a look that promises every single wicked delight reflected in his eyes to happen tomorrow at nine.
I clench my legs behind the counter and try to keep my heart from kicking in my chest. Damn, I wish I weren’t working tonight so I could work on him and his gorgeous body right now.
“If you can manage not to have fun without me until then. That means no coming by yourself or with anyone else,” I whisper at him surprisingly.
The guy gives me the merest smile and leans even closer.
“Consider it done… if you can assure me the same.” His eyes are dark and penetrating as I bite down on a smile and nod.
I feel crazy with need as I watch his broad back and gorgeous ass walk away.
Ian
I’ve got papers from the World Films takeover strewn across the room, and my focus is about as lax as my cock is hard.
I plunge my hands into my pocket and wait by the window.
I scan the buildings downtown, not for the first time, wondering why the fuck I’m here. I have a home in New York, so how do I keep ending up in hotels every time I’m in town?
Doesn’t matter right now.
Because she’s coming. Pun intended.
Oh, sweet Sara will be coming all right.
I dial the hotel concierge from the phone by the bed.
“Four Seasons concierge, this is Sara speaking.”
“Sara, this is the gentleman from room 1103.”
“Oh, yes. How can I help you, sir?”
“I’d like your panties in a little wad in my pocket and you thrashing in my bed.”
There’s a slight hesitation, and then her answer, not quite steady: “Right away, sir.”
I hang up and stand, my dick stiffening under my slacks, knowing she’s about as ready to get it from me as I am to give it to her.
I smile as I remember asking her for directions to Daniel. Like I need directions for anywhere in New York.
Daniel couldn’t appease the kind of hunger I’m grappling with.
I’m ready for it. I keep checking the minutes, keenly aware that it takes her exactly eight of them to finally knock.
I open the door, and she stands before me with a look of anticipation in her eyes. I stare for a beat, absorbing her. She’s slender and a medium height, with a delicate face and skin like the moon. My gaze moves from a set of silver-gray eyes to lips like a plush, perfect red heart. A heart my dick wants to puncture.
For a moment I want to kiss her, all fucking night. I can’t remember a woman ever looking at me with such anticipation before. Too many years fucking for fucking’s sake to remember what it’s like to taste or touch.
I don’t remember ever feeling this damn starved for someone.
I seize her neck with one hand, stroking the flutters of her heartbeat that vibrate against my fingertip at her pulse point.
I ask her if she’s already turned on, and she hesitates in silence. I can tell she’s younger than me by decades of experience, even if our age is only a few years apart.
She eases into my grip, and I lift her by the ass and drop her down on the entry table. Take it easy, Ford. Damn, you’re acting like a crazy man.
I try to be gentle as I duck my head and taste her, but she wants it. Her desire, her confidence is even more of a turn-on.
I suck and savor her, my hands digging into her ass as I open her mouth.
I clench her tight enough to push her tits into my chest.
She asks me to do her hard. I tell her exactly what I’m going to do with her. The need to feel her hot and wild around me burns bright as I take another taste.
She strokes her hand along my shaft.
I feel unhinged. I flip her around. It’s less intimate this way.
I lift her dress. I drive in.
She cries out.
I plunge my fingers between her thighs and tease her clit, biting into the back of her neck to pin her in place as I thrust. She moves back, wanting it harder. I grip her hips and catch a glimpse of her in the mirror, of me inside her. I watch her move, the expression of lust on her face. I flip her back around. Suddenly I cannot look at anything but her damn face.
I clench it in one hand and drive back in. Animal sex. Not the kind a mature man would have with the woman he loves. The kind you imagine you’d have with sluts, or strangers.
She bites my lip and I throw her on the bed. I strip her. I strip, too.
This time when I fall back on her, I don’t give her my dick. I won’t last and I don’t want it to be over yet. I suckle her tit and wander my mouth lower. My balls tighten against my shaft when I taste the cream between her thighs. I didn’t know a taste could be so intoxicating.