And how she'd felt beneath him—hot, ready like a firecracker about to go off, and smooth. Those ripe, pink ni**les that he could still taste on his tongue, and those moist lips, parting, throbbing, wanting him.
Like he'd wanted her.
Nick groaned and rolled over, hoping to smother the erection that rose again.
Damn, why had she left while he was asleep? If she'd just stayed around, lain with him on the bed, they could be in the middle of round two by now. He could've gotten hotel management to send up condoms. They could've done it properly this time—he could've entered her, felt her tight wetness sucking him in...
Nick groaned and got up. He tried to dismiss the image of Abbey's naked body from his mind lest he do something he hadn't done since he was a teenager.
Abbey. He didn't even know her last name. He didn't even know why she was there. She'd called him Damien Vane, which meant she didn't know who he really was. Vane, his VP of Marketing who was supposed to be on this trip but had skipped town at the last minute and was probably drunk with some whore somewhere...
Vane! The woman was meant for Vane not him! Someone who knew Vane's penchant for loose, sexy women and someone who didn't mind picking up the tab.
Or maybe Vane was a regular at a local brothel whenever he was in Melbourne. Somewhere where they knew him well enough and he had a running tab. Maybe he organized this little rendezvous in advance. Perhaps the new girl, not having met Vane before, just assumed Nick was him.
For some reason he couldn't quite fathom, it galled him to think that the hot little woman with the killer legs and delicious br**sts was meant for someone else. Someone who'd have no appreciation of her finer points—her bright blue eyes, her masses of chestnut hair and her slightly upturned nose.
Nick shook his head, annoyed at himself. What was he thinking? You aren't supposed to appreciate the finer points of a woman like that.
He sighed. He couldn't believe he'd slept with a hooker.
He glanced at the clock beside the bed. Two AM. He'd best get some sleep. Tomorrow was the first day of the seminar and he had to be in good shape for the presentation. He had all of Vane's notes plus his laptop and he knew everything about the product, probably more than Vane did, thanks to some late nights and thorough briefing over the past few days. He was ready for this. He had to be. The future of Software Solutions, his investment, was riding on it.
Trouble was, how could he sleep with Abbey's taste still on his lips and her face still in his mind?
***
"What do you mean you didn't get it?" Abbey didn't know whether to kill Lucy or hug her.
"The camera's broken." Lucy held up a small, black object that was supposed to be attached to the large camera that stood on a tripod at the window. She shrugged thin, bare shoulders. "Sorry. I sort of dropped it when I was setting up."
"Sorry! You're sorry! I just slept with a complete stranger so you could get those shots and you tell me the damn thing's broken!" Abbey drew in a deep breath and placed both hands on her hips.
Lucy grinned, lighting up her pretty face.
"I knew you slept with him! That's fantastic! He was gorgeous." She hugged her friend. "So the broken camera isn't such a bad thing after all—at least now you'll get to do it all over again."
Abbey laughed despite herself. Trust Lucy to look at it like that. Always the wild one, she could pick up a guy in a bar, sleep with him that night, then never call him again. And not feel bad about it. Abbey couldn't.
Until tonight.
Lucy and Abbey went back a long way. They'd become instant friends when they met at university over ten years ago. Lucy had graduated and joined the police force since she could think of nothing better to do. A year later, she'd quit, stifled by the protocol and paperwork. She'd taken on odd jobs after that, and it was while working in a dry cleaning store that she'd got her big break.
Her boss suspected her husband was cheating on her but he was clever and proving it was difficult. So instead of letting it go on, Lucy decided to test his fidelity without her boss knowing the favor she was doing her. She asked a friend to photograph her having sex with the man. She gave the photos to her boss, but instead of dumping him, the woman fired Lucy for sleeping with her husband.
It didn't matter because Lucy had already realized she could make better money taking photos of cheating husbands in compromising positions than working in a dry cleaning store. So she got her private investigator's license, got herself an office and placed some ads in newspapers and magazines. The calls had trickled in ever since. The only modification she made was to hire someone else to get the men in compromising positions while she took the photos.
Abbey often thought it was because her friend liked to watch, but she never questioned her motive.
While Lucy had gone into P.I. work, Abbey had taken the more traveled route and gone into P.A. work. She had been the personal assistant to the managing director of a pharmaceuticals company for four years. She'd been his lover for two of those, until today when she'd arrived at the office after a two week holiday on her own in Fiji and found Tarken kissing Melinda from Accounts, a woman Abbey had considered a friend.
She'd quit on the spot. It was the most radical thing she'd ever done, but she didn't regret it. It seemed today was turning out to be a day to do radical things.
"Do it again?" Abbey stood back and surveyed Lucy's cheeky pixie-like face in the moonlight. "I can't!" As soon as she said it, Abbey knew it was a lie.
"Why not? Wasn't it any good?" Lucy's eyes glinted in the semi-dark fifth floor office. She'd got the keys off the building supervisor, someone she'd slept with a few months ago, probably on the promise that she'd do it again soon, Abbey presumed.
Abbey looked around her, avoiding Lucy's mischievous stare. "It was great." Wonderful in fact. The best o**l s*x she'd ever had. Probably because it was with a complete stranger. "But—"
"Well, then, just do it."
Abbey bit the inside of her lip. It might be nice to repeat the experience she'd just had with Damien Vane. He was one gorgeous man, after all, and his tongue had been, well, lizard-like. He was skillful...and masterful. He knew exactly what he wanted, and exactly what she needed, and how to do it.
She definitely wouldn't mind doing it again. The thought of him inside her this time, large and thick, reaching into her soul, was enticing. Exciting.
She felt hot.
And Lucy, damn her, could tell. She fanned her friend's face with her hand, her eyes alight with mischief.
"Cool down, girl, I need to get a new camera. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."
She grinned and affectionately tucked one of Abbey's stray strands behind her ear.
Abbey smiled weakly. "I must look a mess."
"You look like a girl who's had a good bonk and is in need of another one."
Abbey giggled and nodded. "Tomorrow then." She felt a rush of tingles up her spine in memory of Damien's touch, and tongue, and in anticipation of them again.
She let it run its course, then she turned to follow Lucy who was walking through the office, dodging empty desks in the darkness, camera in hand and tripod over her shoulder. She was contemplating how to explain her reappearance to Damien when a horrible thought struck her.