Pierre stopped her before she could voice a complaint. His hand slid over her mouth as he hiked up her skirt.
“Be quiet, Cattleya.” She bite back her gasp as his fingers spread her labia. “Very quiet.”
She pressed her palms to the closed door, her mind a muddle. Pierre tapped at her ankles and she spread her legs for him. He released her mouth and the loud rasp of his zipper echoed in the room. Her hips were canting back in anticipation. How had she gotten so desperate in such a short time? Cat bite her lip to keep from crying out as his cock inched into her cunt.
Four hours earlier
Cat had arrived at his room right at seven on the dot. The door opened before she could even knock.
“Do you have a tracker on me?” She brushed passed him and entered the suite. “Don’t answer that question.”
His chuckle followed her as she crossed to the mini bar. The real Cat needed a drink. She was eyeing the expensive brandy when he walked up behind her and placed a hand on her waist. Her hand shook as she started pouring a glass, the warmth of him sinking through the fabric into her skin.
“Isn’t it early for a drink?” His breath was hot on her neck.
She sat the bottle down with a clank. “It’s 7:05. We’re well past it being five o’clock somewhere time.”
His laughter tickled her ear and she swallowed hard. “Then pour me a glass too.”
Grabbing another, Cat tried to keep her grip steady. He placed a hand on her stomach and pulled her back against him. The liquor spilled over the edge of the glass on the mini bar as his hand slid up to cup her breast.
“You’re messy. If my hand moves down, will I find liquid spilling over there too?”
“I should get dressed.” She gripped the glass. “Don’t we have to leave soon?”
His hand moved down her body, stopping to cup her through her shorts. Cat gripped the glass tighter. Was he just trying to torture her? It felt like it. She was always in control when she worked, but in the short time she’d been with him she’d not been in control once. Definitely not now as his hand pressed against her, teasing her through her shorts.
“How are we connected?” She was grasping at anyway to keep her head about her. “How do you know me?”
Pierre paused for a moment before releasing her. He reached for his glass then crossed to a chair in the sitting room. Cat felt the loss of contact, her cunt pulsing in objection. It had a one track mind and couldn’t be trusted right now. Resisting the urge to down her drink, she took a big sip before facing him.
“Well?” She leaned a hip on the mini bar and ignored the way her nipples poked through her shirt.
He swirled his drink and stared off. “What if I told you we were after the same thing?”
What could he possible need that she would need? There wasn’t anything Cat could think of that came close. Revenge didn’t quite cover what she wanted.
“Tell me, what happened with your mother?”
She had to sit the glass down to keep from dropping it. Her mother… That doused all sexual desire.
“My mother?” Cat turned away. “My mother is in prison right now.”
“I know that. Tell me why.”
She gripped the counter, her mind flooded with so many thoughts. “Mom made a lot of stupid mistakes and one of those mistakes was a big one.”
The image of her mother in court, the look of desolation marring her face as the verdict came down made Cat’s heart ache.
“She was involved with the wrong man, running drugs and escorting. She was a single mother trying to support a kid so she did what she had to fucking do.” Anger turned her stomach and she worried she’d throw up. “They accused her of killing someone, but she wasn’t there. It was my birthday and she was with me, but no one would believe a ten year old over a senator’s wife.”
It was too much to think about. The subsequent years in foster care and seeing her mother grow more and more hopeless every time she visited, ate away at Cat. It was luck that had kept her off the streets. Luck and a desire for justice that didn’t exist in this world.
“My father.” He spoke so low that she barely heard him. “That bastard.”
Cat didn’t turn around. It was one piece of the puzzle though she didn’t think that was all. Her mother was involved with whatever happened to his father, but he wanted something more.
“Why am I here? I’ve been trying for a decade to get my mother out, there’s nothing I can do for you.”
“You fit into my plan.”
She resisted the urge to bang her hand on the counter. “Just tell me what you need.”
“Finish your drink and go get dressed. Everything you need is in the en suite. I have some things to take care of before we leave.”
Cat turned, but he was already striding out of the room. She gave into her urge to hit something, slamming her palm down. The stink cleared her head a bit, but frustration continued to linger. Why didn’t he just tell her what he wanted? Why this run around? If he needed her help, just say that instead of playing this game with her. Worse, she felt edgy whenever she was in his presence, making maintaining her composure harder. This was quickly becoming less about money and more about getting her own answers.
“Fuck you.” She wished she could tell him that to his face.
Downing her drink, Cat placed it back on the counter and went to get dressed. She debated on another shower as she crossed into the en suite, but all thoughts stopped when she saw the dress he’d picked for her. If you could call the scrapes of fabric a dress.
She’d come with just the clothes she had on so she had no choice but to wear. It surprised her how much the dress managed to cover considering how little of it there was. Each breast was covered by long thin pieces of material that hide nothing. Two strategic straps crossed front to back, one between her breasts, on her abdomen and mid back. It dipped low in the back and had a ridiculous slit down one thigh.
It looked good on her. Though she would’ve preferred choosing her own outfit, he’d done well. Keeping her hair and make up simple, she was ready rather quickly.
He was leaning against the open door, his eyes hot on her. Her nipples hardened under his stare.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” He looked delicious in his suit, the material tailored to him. Cat wanted touch him and feel the slid of his muscles under her fingertips.
“I love that you want me.”
She turned away to pick up her earrings. “Too bad I can’t do anything about it.”
“Be patient. All in good time.”
Pierre crossed to where she was standing. A necklace appeared in front of her face. He draped it around her neck, the warm jewel settling between her breasts as he closed the clasp. His lips brushed along the back of her neck and she dropped her head forward in invitation. The smell of his cologne, something cedar, wrapped around her. His lips brushed at her shoulder and Cat gripped the counter hard. God, she wanted him.
“Grab your shoes and let’s go.”
She’d die of frustration. Her grunt of irritation made him chuckle, the bastard.
They left after she slipped on her heels, lust riding her hard the whole way to the convention center. They rode in the back of his Bentley, the driver hidden behind a dark screen. Their legs were pressed together, but he made no move to touch her. When they arrived, other than a hand to help her out, and then at her low back to guide her inside, he touched her very little.
Cat was so focused on him that she didn’t pay attention to what party they were at until they were standing just outside the ballroom.
It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to higher profile fetes, she’d been an escort for five years, but this had the feel of the ultra rich. A flute of champagne was pressed into her hand by Pierre within minutes.
“We’ll mingle a bit before the auction starts. Stay close.”
Not that she could’ve wandered off. She sipped her champagne, ignoring glances as he spoke to people. Her smile was perfect as he moved her along with him. That hot hand against her back held her in place. Cat had no desire to move away from it. Less so with all the unfamiliar faces. That was until one from her past showed up in her periphery. She froze for a moment.
“Are you okay?”
He whispered in her ear, concern coloring his words. She thought she saw the man her mother used to work for, but that wasn’t possible.
“No I’m okay.” She drank down her champagne and snagged another as a waiter passed. “Just tired.”
“Did you are a ghost?”
Cat turned to look at him. His expression hadn’t changed, but she knew he knew something.
“I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Pierre simply nodded and continued moving them along. Cat had just calmed when she saw that face again. It was definitely Bruce, she’d never forget that scar or those ice blue eyes. Cat was moving away from Pierre and into the crowd without thinking.
Murderous thoughts plagued her as she stalked him through the crowd. So much anger and hate had built up over the years because of him, that Cat almost couldn’t control herself. That slicked back blond hair and shark toothed smile followed her into her dreams some nights.
Following close behind him, she tailed him out of the ballroom into the hallway. She was so close she wished she had something to stab him. To see him suffer the why her mother had suffered for ten years wasn’t enough. She was close enough to reach out to touch him when an arm snagged her.
“Naughty girl, I told you to stay close to me.” He pulled her into an empty room off from the main ballroom. “You’ll ruin my plan.”
Cat was seething. She wanted Bruce’s blood and she didn’t give a fuck what she had to do to get it. Pierre shut the door and turned her to face it, effectively blocking her ability to get out.
“I guess I’ll have to distract us both before things go off the rails.”