His Final Seduction Read online

  Wow. Just wow. She could not believe what she’d actually done.She walked down the streets of Murano, white wicker picnic basket dangling from her arm. Head held high, smiling at everyone she passed. People smiled back, waved, called out, “Buon pomeriggio.” She’d never felt so strong, so alive, so in charge of her life. Taking the lead in a sexual liaison had given her unexpected self-confidence.

  And even though she had the urge to check and see if Quint had followed, she never looked back. A sly courtesan would never have looked back. Lady Evangeline would never have looked back at Casanova. Looking back would reveal vulnerability.

  “You were awesome,” she whispered to herself.

  Avery would be so proud of her, that she’d finally done something bold and daring and totally out of character. Even now, with the warm sun beating down on her and the creak of wicker in her ears, thinking about how she’d unzipped Quint’s pants and brought him to orgasm up there on the roof caused her lips to tremble and her tongue to recall the salty masculine taste of him.

  Except now, she knew it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She ached to be even bolder, even more brazen. Sexual clout, she discovered, was a very heady rush. Now she understood what Avery had been talking about all these years.

  Jorgie caught a glimpse of herself in a shop window. Her hair was a wild tumble about her shoulders and she couldn’t even remember when the band around her tresses had broken free. A feral expression of smug satisfaction tipped up the corners of her lips stained dark pink from wine and certain illicit activities and she found she could not stop grinning.

  She simply couldn’t wait to do it again.

  AFTER COLLECTING his scattered thoughts and stuffing his shirt back into his waistband, Quint clattered down the stairs after Jorgie only to find himself halted by Uberto and the two other glassmakers returning from their lunch break.

  “Did you see Jorgie come through here?” he asked Uberto in Italian.“We saw her on the street,” Uberto said. “She was smiling. It seems you’ve still got it, my friend. The charm of Casanova. Send them on their way with a smile on their faces, no?”

  No. Not at all. In fact, it was the other way around. Jorgie had left him with a smile on his face. Jolted, Quint recalled no woman had ever gone off and left him after a romantic interlude. It had always been him slipping away. Leaving with a kiss and some sort of romantic gesture, but leaving all the same.

  But Jorgie had left him.

  A sadness unlike anything he’d ever felt before swept over him. Was this what the women felt like when he’d left them—lonely, sheepish, awkward, lost? The thought bothered him. A lot.

  “Ciao,” he told Uberto and headed for the door. “Thanks for letting me show her the shop and for setting up the picnic.”

  “Wait.” Uberto stalked toward the annealer, holding him up when more than anything he longed to race after Jorgie. “The little cat piece you made for her should be cool enough to take with you. The vase she made I’ll send over to your resort with tomorrow’s deliveries to Venice.”

  Impatiently, he shifted his weight while Uberto took the cat from the annealer and boxed it up. The entire time, he kept thinking about Jorgie. He had no idea she was so sensual. You would never guess it from looking at her. She seemed so sweet and innocent with those wide blue eyes and long dark lashes and the way she dipped her head so coyly.

  A shudder of desire ran through him as he recalled the feel of her lips on his cock. She was beyond anything he’d ever expected. She twisted him like a pretzel, expertly working him over. He tried to tell himself he was overstating the case. That he was so impressed simply because it had been a while since he’d been with a woman. Especially a woman that had captivated him the way she did. But deep inside, he could not deny the truth.

  Everything about her spoke to something deep within him. She struck a chord he hadn’t known was there. Her sweet-yet-sexy scent, her soft voice, her ability to startle and shock him. He even liked the way she ran hot one minute and cool the next. He couldn’t figure her out. He felt as if he’d been waiting his entire life to find her.

  What did she think of him? That question kept him dangling, like glass from a blowpipe—hot and ready to crack. Was he just a vacation fling for her? And if so, why did that idea bother the hell out of him? He’d never minded being anyone’s vacation booty call before.

  He grabbed the box from Uberto and ran from the glass shop. He couldn’t wait to find her, to see her again, to figure out where this was going and what it all meant. He rushed through the streets, his eyes on the lookout for a curvy brunette in a white-and-red polka-dot shirt and body-hugging white shorts.

  At last, he spied her, standing with some of the other tourists from the Eros resort queuing up at the vaporetto launch. She was talking to a man and laughing.

  Jealousy, sharp and quick, took a bite out of him.

  He rushed up to her, even as the voice in the back of his head told him to be cool. “There you are,” he said breathlessly, angling a dirty look at the guy standing too close to her.

  “Hello,” she said smoothly. “Have you met Ace?” She gestured toward the man. “Ace this is Quint. Quint, Ace.”

  He nodded curtly to the guy. Ace stuck out his hand for a handshake, but Quint ignored it and the guy finally lowered his hand to his side.

  “Ace was telling me that Venice is slowly sinking into the lagoon. Isn’t that a travesty?”

  “Tragic,” he replied. He took her by the arm. “Can we talk?”

  “Why, sure.” Her tone was light, as if fifteen minutes ago they hadn’t been up on the roof doing what they’d been doing. “What’s on your mind?”

  “In private?”

  “Okay.”

  His gut tightened and he was about to direct her away from the crowd when the vaporetto docked and everyone started climbing aboard.

  “Our ride is here. Looks like that private talk will have to wait,” she said, and gently removed her arm from his grasp.

  Quint scowled at the boat. Nothing was going as planned. He’d intended on seducing Jorgie, not the other way around. He spotted several of his students watching him. Quick, what would Casanova do?

  “You look so beautiful,” he said, surprised at how heartfelt the words sounded in the languid air.

  Her cheeks pinked and she ducked her head. “Don’t toy with me, Quint. I know I’m not beautiful.”

  True enough, she wasn’t a classic beauty, but suddenly in the reflected glow of the sun off the water, Quint saw her in the same way Da Vinci must have seen Mona Lisa and been inspired to paint her. A saucy cheekiness lurked in her startling blue eyes, buried beneath the conventions of a middleclass suburban upbringing, but it was there nonetheless. She possessed a determined set to her lips that told him come what may, Jorgie was the kind of woman you could count on.

  “Oh,” she said, her eyes widening in understanding. “You’re playing Casanova for your students, aren’t you? You want me to react like one of his conquests would?”

  He opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say, when she reached out and took the box with the little glass cat nestled inside from his hands.

  “For me?” she said loudly enough for those around them to hear. “How thoughtful.” Then she leaned over and brushed her lips over his cheekbone.

  That sweet kiss, that innocent kiss, that most chaste of kisses in light of what she’d just done on the rooftop of the glass shop served to unglue him more effectively than if she’d lip-locked him in a red-hot, openmouthed kiss.

  JORGIE WALKED DOWN the corridor toward her room at the Eros resort, the box with the little glass cat inside clutched in her hands, her mind a mad jumble. On the vaporetto, while Quint was playing at being Casanova and she’d kissed him on the cheek, he’d had the saddest expression in his eyes. As if he were saying goodbye to an old friend he knew he’d never see again. It unsettled her in a way she could not describe. She’d never expected Quint to look sad. Honestly, she didn’t know he had
that much depth of emotion. To look so poignant after she’d given him a blow job.

  She smiled at the memory of their rooftop rendezvous. She’d never used her sexuality to control a man before, had never really understood that she could. The courtesan classes had opened her eyes to a lot of things she’d never seen before. How she’d been holding back, shutting down her natural impulses, hiding her feminine talents.It was long past time she took responsibility for her sexuality, and Quint was the instrument of her rebirth. She knew she didn’t have to worry about hurting him. He’d made it clear enough he wasn’t a long-term relationship kind of guy. This was all about fun and learning about what she needed in bed. It was a lesson she should have learned long ago.

  She’d been born with a cautious, reliable nature. As a child she’d valued tranquility and courted the status quo, but through knowing Avery, she’d learned that sometimes you had to shake things up to get noticed. That’s why she was here. To shake things up. Get noticed. Take charge of her life.

  Still, a part of her was scared. Afraid of getting hurt, terrified of ending up with egg on her face.

  One of Avery’s favorite sayings popped into her head. You gotta break some eggs to make an omelet. Well, if Avery knew what she’d done today, she’d have applauded.

  So what next? Where did she take things from here?

  Call Avery, she’ll know what to do.

  She dug her phone from her purse. “Guess what I did,” she said as soon as Avery answered. Then she launched into detail about her adventure on Murano.

  “That’s wonderful!” Avery said, laughing. “Good for you.”

  “I never thought I’d be saying this, but thank you for giving me the slip at the airport.”

  “I told you it was for your own good.”

  “Listen, I’m calling because I need your advice. I don’t know what to do next.”

  “Hey,” Avery said, “I’m not the best person to be giving love advice.”

  “I’m not looking for love advice. Love is the last thing on my mind. I want to make this the best sexual experience of not just my life, but his, too.”

  “I’m pretty well batting zero on that score, as well.” Avery sighed.

  Jorgie straightened at the sound of frustration in her friend’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “Let’s talk about you,” Avery said.

  Because she really wanted to talk about what was going on between her and Quint, Jorgie let her friend off the hook. “I want to tease him. String him along. I want to make him think he has absolutely no chance of ever getting me all the way into his bed, and then just when he’s crazy with desire I’m going to lower the boom and give him the best sex he’s ever had.”

  “Oooh, wicked. I like it.”

  “So what should my next move be?”

  “Does Eros have anything planned for tomorrow night? I know our resort has nightly mixers. Although Jake hasn’t been to a single one of them,” Avery muttered under her breath.

  “Who’s Jake?”

  “Never mind. This conversation is about you and Quint. About that mixer…”

  “Um, hang on.” Jorgie got up off the bed and went to pick up the flyer that housekeeping left on the bureau every morning. “There’s a carnival mask-making competition for couples and you compete against other teams to create the most erotic mask.”

  “That sounds perfect. Not only are you involved in a sexy endeavor but you’ll be working as a team in competition with others. Men love competing and doing activities with you. It’s how guys bond.”

  Avery made it sound so easy. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll give it a try.”

  “Let me know how it goes.”

  “And you keep me posted about Jake.”

  “Yeah, right, that’s going nowhere. Anyway, I hope you have better luck with Quint. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye.”

  Jorgie switched off her phone, excitement pounding her heart. The more she thought about the erotic mask-making contest, the better she liked the idea. Taking a deep breath to calm her jangled nerves, she then hurriedly called Quint before she lost her courage.

  “’Lo,” he answered breezily.

  “Quint, this is Jorgie. I want to enter the mask-making contest tomorrow night, but I need a partner. Are you interested?”

  “You and me kicking everyone else’s ass?” He laughed. “I’m so there.”

  “See you in the salon at seven, then.”

  “I’ll be counting the seconds,” he said.

  Me, too.

  11

  The most captivating film femme fatale can seduce a man with nothing more than her eyes

  —Make Love Like a Movie Star

  WHILE JORGIE was getting charged up about the mask-making competition, in Los Angles Avery was trying to figure out why all her attempts to seduce Jake Stewart had failed.

  The filming of her movie had to be cancelled when half the crew ended up suffering from food poisoning. She was left with too much time on her hands. She strolled the grounds of the resort, got a massage at the spa and talked to Jorgie, but it seemed nothing could assuage her restlessness. She was unaccustomed to having men resist her advances.When she got back to her room, she glanced to the open blinds of the window and she could see straight into the window next door. Jake’s blinds were open, as well.

  Was he there? Watching?

  She squinted and thought she could see movement inside the other bungalow. Or was it just a shadow from the ruffle of curtains in the breeze?

  Her breath quickened and she felt a mesmeric force pulling her closer to the window. She was ready to take this thing to the next level. She was determined to get his attention.

  “If you’re over there, dude, I’m going to give you the show of your life,” she muttered under her breath. “And even if you’re not, one way or the other, I’m going to get an orgasm out of the deal. I’ve been seven months without sex and that’s seven months too long.”

  Positioning herself squarely in front of the window, she grabbed the hem of her cropped T-shirt and slowly peeled it over her head. Then she shimmied from her pants, turning as she did so just in case Jake was watching. She wanted him to get a complete 360 of what he was missing.

  When she’d finished, she stretched out across the foot of the bed, positioning herself so that her hair dangled over the edge, spreading out like a purple fan. She didn’t care if Jake was watching her or not. She was having a good time all by herself. Why did she care if he hadn’t responded to her nightly stripteases? There were certainly a lot more fish in the sea.

  She touched herself, lightly trailing her fingers over her bare stomach and thought of the way he’d smelled that day on the soundstage when he pulled her into his arms for a kiss. She could easily recall his clean, masculine scent. Closing her eyes, she luxuriated in the moment.

  Against the backs of her eyelids, she saw Jake, the dark-eyed man she’d been unable to sway. Desire for him tugged at her.

  “Avery,” she imagined him whispering her name in his sultry, velvet-smooth voice that sent shivers down her spine.

  Her heart slammed against her rib cage at the thought of Jake settling onto the soft bed beside her. Her nipples hardened and her breasts swelled. Heat pooled deep inside her.

  She envisioned his hands, broad and flat, gently caressing her skin, skimming down her throat, cupping her naked breasts, moving lower, circling her navel, teasing her mercilessly.

  Mewling softly, Avery used her index finger and her thumb to lightly pinch one of her straining nipples, pantomiming what she wished Jake would do to her.

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes still closed, exploring her own body with eager fingertips. This was good. A release of sexual tension.

  Her hot spine stiffened against the pillow-top mattress. Hungrily, Avery stroked the naked flesh between her thighs and all her pent-up insecurities escaped on a shattered sigh.

  “Jake.”

  Just thinking about him and
the kiss he’d given—never mind that it had been a screen kiss—made Avery feel achy and wet and hot. She traced her fingertips over tender skin, across the silky folds, skimming along the satiny moisture oozing slowly from her swollen inner core.

  “Jake,” she murmured again.

  She pictured him with her—his caress, his hand, kneading the delicate bud, dangling her on the edge of pleasure. She envisioned his mouth covering hers, his tongue nibbling, tasting, exploring. Her heart raced and her mind spun out of control.

  His hand dipped between her legs, caressing, rubbing her swollen sex. He drew small circles against her inner thigh with his thumb.

  Her fingers moved in time with the fantasy. She was in it all the way now. No turning back. Her orgasm was so close, beckoning her onward.

  Come.

  Faster and faster her fingers strummed, adding more pressure, taking her more quickly toward her goal. Release. Relief.

  “Jake, Jake, Jake,” she cried, thrashing about in the covers. She was burning up from the inside out.

  In her mind’s eye she saw him, looking at her with ravenous eyes, poised over her. His manhood, thick and swollen with desire, pushing against her wet flesh, sliding into her innermost cave. Dilating her, taking her, claiming her.

  The orgasm ripped through her in a sudden rush. Legs stiffening, Avery arched her hips and cried out, gratification humming though her body.

  She came hard, but it wasn’t adequate. She wanted more. Her release, no matter how good, was steeped with loneliness. The fantasy did not compare to reality. She wanted more.

  She wanted him.

  WHILE AVERY lay writhing in sexual ecstasy, Jake stood in the shadows of his room, his fingernails digging into his palms. Twin impulses of aggravation and desire battled inside him. The woman was a dangerous tease. If he was a smart man, he would turn and walk right out of the room. Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot.

  Clearly, he was not a smart man.The truth was, she’d gotten to him, slipped under his radar. Jake was stunned to discover how little self-control he really possessed when it came to this woman.

  It scared him.

  He’d been wound tighter than wire on a spool ever since he’d kissed her on the movie set. There was no denying it. The kiss had obviously fired her up, too.