Kelly looked up at the man who had just paid for her by check at the charity auction, her fate now in the hands of the man who employed her.
She had been the third one up on the block wearing a Vera Wang gown and dark Chanel heels and underneath, pricy lingerie from the exclusive Victoria Secret collection. The whole thing had been for some charity organization that built medical clinics and hospitals in developing nations and when Sofia, the chair of the fundraising committee had hit her up to put herself up for bid, she hadn't been able to say no.
Not that she could say no to the first person to have hired her out of Stanford School of Law...not when she needed to raise over $500,000 to build a new women and girls' health clinic in Chad.
So she had volunteered, she had worn the clothes donated by the various designers and those she could keep, if she managed to achieve a bid among the minimum set of $10,000.
Thrown in would be the diamond necklace around her neck...simple in its elegance it was still worth a few pretty pennies. She had spent the afternoon getting massages donated by a posh day spa and her hair washed and styled by Vidal Sassoon protégés. Manicures and a pedicure to spiff her up, before she put on the lightly studded thigh highs underneath her gown...she wanted to look her best because all the top social columnists would be there.
She just had no idea that Dallas would show up at the Beverly Wilcox...let alone to bid...and god, on her...to catch the final bid before the final tapping of the gavel by the auctioneer. He looked smashing in his Armani suit, his black tie and his rugged looks untamed by his genteel outfit. Dallas could gear up with a backpack and three days of grit and climb the tallest summits, rappel down the sheerest cliffs and dive deep into the graveyard of ships in the depths of oceans.
But he could also preside over a board meeting or a corporate project. He could climb on a Lear Jet in the morning in L.A. and get off half an earth's rotation later and be the guest of honor at a state dinner. She had heard excited whispers in the break lounge at the office suite that he would still have enough energy to hit the posh clubs with a martini and a willing woman on her knees in front of him.
Of course, that might just be rumor...but occasionally when she wasn't worried about having to finish a high profile report for him to inspect or sit in a meeting next to him and back him up with on the spot information she thought about what it might be like to fuck him.
To be that woman kneeling before him as he slipped in and out of her mouth, throwing his head back as she suckled on the crown of his erection....or even better to have his mouth between her thighs as he worshiped her nether parts....she had to stop with the fantasizing or she wouldn't get anything done.
When she stood up on the block as the emcee essentially combined both her professional resume and her body measurements in one breathless spiel, she had looked out and saw him standing there with a Scotch in his hand and his dark eyes on her.
Oh god...he wasn't going to...was he going to throw his own bid in the mix? Her mind played with the what ifs involved and her panties began to dampen in anticipation.
This was silly really because she wasn't going to have sex with the man who bought her. She wasn't a prostitute after all...not even for the night...not even for charity.
But there he stood clearly sizing her up...judging by the pensive look on his tanned face and the way he stood there, his arms casually folded after he put his glass down. The lights dimmed and the spotlight turned on her as she walked the ramp like a model, swaying her body a little because after all...if she got the bidding crowd of men worked up...more money for bidding on her...and more money for charity so that Sofia could meet her fundraising goal.
All good...and out of it, she'd get this snazzy wardrobe and a fun evening out on the town with some of L.A.'s wealthiest bachelors.
But who would the winner be...could it be....and after the dust had cleared and even she had to wait to see who won...it was Dallas.
She licked her lips as she watched him come and claim his purchase after he had whipped out a check for...$25,000. Wow, she thought, as the audience cheered and applauded the bid and the winner. But she felt nervous...because she worked for him and the way he looked at her...damn he had no interest in some platonic date...
Her panties tugged at her pussy as she moved to get off the stage and he had held out his hand, helping her step down, before she stood in front of him.
"I guess you won me..."
He studied her face for a long moment...his eyes not leaving hers and she felt if she weren't careful...then he reached forward with a couple of fingers and caressed a lock off of her face but not before tugging it gently.
Possessively.
Damn, she was in serious trouble here...already. He studied her as if he were really looking at her for the first time...taking in her attributes...almost as if he were touching them.
"So how do you show a girl a good time?"
He tilted his face.
"You'll see...but tonight I'm just Dallas...I'm not the man who hired you...who you work for...the one you see at the office...I'm the one..."
He bent his face to her ear.
"I'm the one who's going to fuck you."
She nearly fell off of her heels as she looked at him trying to contain her shock...and her pleasure...good god...somewhere inside of her she sung...at the thought that he wanted her...enough to have paid that much money...yeah maybe she should have been offended that he had bought her to have her...but she was too turned on at this point to even think about the moral implications.
At least not until later...when she came back down to earth...because damn, she knew he'd be good. He was built like an athlete but not one who trained inside...but who had built his body through his outdoor adventures. His ass was finely sculpted with muscle and sheathed by his pants...at least for now.
But he tucked his arm inside hers and beckoned at her to follow him out of the ballroom and towards the gold plated elevators.
"Where are we going...?"
