Andrew turned back to the conversation. “Still here. Bummed your fiancée couldn’t make it. Lia, isn’t it? I wanted to see what kind of woman you suckered into marrying you.”
Justin laughed. “The kind who likes money. Seriously, though, she’s amazing.” His dopey in-love look wasn’t quite as bright as Mercy’s, but it shone. “Next time you’re in San Jose, we’ll do dinner. It’s even on me if you don’t make it down until the wedding.”
Andrew swapped a few more inanities with him, but Justin was fidgeting. They parted ways. The desire to mingle with the rest of the crowd faded, and Andrew headed outside.
The December cold bit into his face when he stepped into the evening. It was a nice change from the hot air blowing inside. The salt on the sidewalk crunched beneath his shoes, sounding louder than it should in the still night. He wandered the frozen path, past iced-over bushes and pine trees.
Susan stood near a balcony overlooking the mountainside. She didn’t look up as he approached, but when he reached her, she spun in the other direction and brushed past him. “I’ll leave you alone.”
He grabbed her arm harder than he intended, and she let out a half-groan, half-hiss. It wasn’t an irritated noise. She liked it? He dropped his hand away quickly. “You wanted to talk?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Her tone was dismissive. “You’ll enjoy your evening more if you find someone who doesn’t rattle whatever skeletons you and Mercy have, to keep you company.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not what you think—I almost guarantee it—but you don’t want to hang out with a guy like me.”
“Because…?”
“I’m a bad influence.” That was as close to the truth as he cared to get. He didn’t mind weaving a tale, but he wasn’t fond of the one where he almost lost Mercy’s friendship.
“‘Kay. ’Cause I’ve never heard that before. I wanted to talk for a few minutes. It wasn’t like I was proposing we set up our gift registry.” A gust sliced through the night, and she shivered and rubbed her arms.
He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. And now she was a petite miss in an oversized coat, and that was more tempting. Damn it. He needed to remind himself why this fascination was unhealthy, prove to her she should be disgusted by him, and abide by Mercy’s request. “You’re not offering the kind of company I prefer.”
“And yet, you haven’t left.”
Good point. Why didn’t he let her walk away? Better question—why were they having this conversation outside? “You’ve got me curious as to what this is about.”
“You said you’ve helped people deal with performance issues.” She cringed and bit her bottom lip. “You know what I mean.”
Because sometimes he didn’t know when to shut his mouth and walk away. This time he’d do it consciously, though. He’d deter her once and for all. “I do know. And I was talking specifically about fucking on camera.”
She didn’t flinch. “You also said there was more to it. How does it work?”
“You don’t want details, Suzie-Q. It’s all about debauchery and fetish and getting off in public.” This way he could convince himself he’d warned her. It was hard to tell if the pink on her cheeks was embarrassment or from the cold. Either way, she’d ask for more information, then realize her mistake, and the discussion would be over.
“And there’s got to be a universal principal in there somewhere. Something I can use. I’ll filter out the screwing and process the rest,” she said.
“All right.” He moved closer, blocking out her intoxicating scent and ignoring the heat flowing between them.
To her credit, she held his gaze and didn’t back away.
“Because each person needs a customized motivation, I’ll give you an example.” He knew the perfect explicit memory. “When I first got started doing this, and I was only a blog with an Adult Warning banner and a login page, I met a girl in Brazil. Gorgeous body. Dark skin. And the things she did with her tongue…”
Susan didn’t flinch.
He pushed forward. “She was flexible as fuck. Knew exactly how to hold herself for the perfect shot, and—Jesus—her pussy was gorgeous. She insisted she wanted to do porn, but she froze every time I grabbed the camera. She loved to dance. Wasn’t as graceful or talented as you. Nowhere near the same league. But she could move to a good club mix like nobody’s business. We went out one night, and I made one request when we got there.”
“Okay?” Susan flicked her tongue over her bottom lip, watching him.
“She had to take off her panties. She hesitated, but the beat called and the room was dark. No one would know but her and me. The dancing was awkward at first. She couldn’t lose herself in the music. Fuck, it made me hard, though. When she found her rhythm, the bumping and grinding was more intense than it had ever been. It was as though having that secret between us cut a ribbon of restraint inside her. The way she pressed into me… I wanted to fuck her on the dance floor. I didn’t care who saw.”
The story was an old one. A tale Andrew used to shock and impress at industry gatherings. He’d told it so many times, it didn’t do anything for him anymore. Except tonight, it had his dick harder than one of the icicles hanging from the roof, and he wasn’t to the happy ending yet. Some of his arousal had to do with his audience. Susan wasn’t shivering under his jacket anymore. The sides had fallen open, and the satin of her dress pressed into her breasts with each breath. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, and those clear blue eyes threatened to capture him.
There was more to the story, and she’d lose interest in him once things got too nasty. That was the point. “She spun and dug her ass into me, and I inched up her skirt to slide my hand between her legs. I expected her to pull away, but she pressed harder. She was so fucking wet. I pushed two fingers inside her, and she rode my hand while the entire club carried on around us. I led her to a booth near the back of the room. The place was crowded, so it wasn’t exactly isolated, but it was dark. She was lost in the moment. Didn’t care.
“She slid my zipper down and worked my cock free, and when she wrapped her lips around it, I almost came. She was kneeling close to me, so I could tease her clit, and I played with her until she was groaning against my shaft. Squirming. Sucking me off. Climaxing and not caring that a couple of guys at the bar watched the entire thing. When I squirted in her mouth, she licked me clean. Kissed me hard and hungry. Sucked her juices from my fingers. As the euphoria faded, she realized we had an audience and they were entranced. She shoved my hand back between her legs and begged me to make her come again. Never had problems in front of the camera after that.” It was only a tale. Words he’d memorized from telling it so often. Simplified, to make a point. So why couldn’t he get his hard-on to stop begging for attention?
Far, far worse was that Susan never looked away. Her pupils were dilated, and her lips flushed red. God damn it. She was turned on. “Do most of the stories go that way?” she asked.