Copyright
CASEY’S NIGHT IN
(PREQUEL TO ASKING FOR ANDRE)
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 by Minx Malone
CrushStar Multimedia
2885 Sanford Ave SW #16301
Grandville, MI 49418
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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Dedication
This one is for my fans. Some of you have followed me since the beginning, read all my work and sent me emails of encouragement. You don’t know how much your loyalty has meant.
I couldn’t do it without you and to be honest, I wouldn’t want to.
Thank you!
Chapter One
Casey flopped down on her overstuffed couch and blew her bangs out of her eyes. It had been a hell of a day. She was ready to sit back, relax and do what she’d been thinking about since lunchtime.
She leaned over and pulled the shiny new magazine from her purse. She placed it gently on her lap and stroked a finger down the crisp uncreased page. She’d passed the magazine on the store rack while buying a sandwich at lunchtime and had been powerless to resist buying it. After a quick glance at the table of contents, she flipped it open to page thirty-six. A pair of brilliant gray eyes stared back at her. The same eyes that haunted her every night while she slept.
Andre Lavin.
Fashion Designer Extraordinaire. Italian Bad Boy. Multimillionaire. The article’s headline was deliberately sensational but there weren’t enough labels in the world to adequately describe this man. Not enough in the universe to describe the way he made her feel.
The agency she worked for handled his advertising and PR. She’d only been working the reception desk at Mirage Advertising for a few months but she’d seen him countless times. Unfortunately, the majority of those times consisted of her either stuttering or doing something equally embarrassing.
“Such as spilling my coffee all over myself.”
The dark brown stain on the front of her white blouse was evidence of her humiliation. He’d been in the hallway as she was leaving the employee lunchroom that afternoon. All it had taken was him saying hello, those marvelous eyes crinkling at the corners. She’d been so lost in his gaze that she’d kept walking straight ahead.
Right into a wall.
Embarrassment swept through her all over again. Luckily he didn’t come in to the agency every day. She needed some time before she could look him in the eye without blushing.
She had to give him credit though, he hadn’t laughed at her when it happened. He’d actually been really nice, had even offered her his handkerchief. It was still in her pocket.
She wasn’t accustomed to mopping up spills with delicate squares of linen that probably cost more money than she made in a week.
The entire time he’d been muttering in Italian and she’d been too flustered to point out that she didn’t understand. So after he’d left she’d asked Milo, one of the designers who spoke Italian fluently, to translate some of the things he was saying.
Apparently piccolina meant “little one”, which wasn’t surprising because she knew she was short. However, the other word he’d used, tesoro, was something used as an endearment. Milo had given her a knowing smile when he told her it was something you’d call a lover or a close friend.
What the hell was she supposed to make of that?
“Don’t make it more than it is, Casey. He probably has a pet name for all the girls who dump coffee on him.”
She pulled the neatly folded cloth from her pocket and held it to her cheek. It smelled faintly of sandalwood, shaving soap and what could only be his cologne. She stroked the soft cloth over her skin, pretending it was the touch of his hand.
“Okay, enough fooling around. Time to get the laundry done.”
She leaned her head back against the back of the chair to rest her eyes for a moment. There was always so much to do and so little time. Daydreaming over a handsome man in a magazine was the closest thing to a vacation she could afford. Plus it wasn’t as if he’d ever know all the wicked, dirty things she’d imagined doing with him. Things she would never be comfortable doing in real life.
The sudden peal of the doorbell yanked her straight up in her seat.
“Just a second,” she called out.
She swiped a hand over her face as she plodded to the door. Who would be visiting now? She wasn’t expecting any deliveries and doubted any of her neighbors had suddenly gotten the urge to be friendly. She pulled open the door and stared at the man who stood with his hand raised, poised to push the bell again.
Lightning gray eyes stared back at her.
“Oh my god, it’s you,” she whispered.
All the oxygen in her lungs seized up into a knot. A few beats passed and her breath left her body in a big whoosh of air.
Andre Lavin is at my apartment.
She cleared her throat and glanced behind her warily at the magazine abandoned in the armchair. It was almost as if she’d conjured him up just by thinking about him but she knew that wasn’t possible. If it was, he’d be at her apartment every night.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asked.
He ducked his head and looked up at her from under heavy, dark lashes. He stood casually, his lean body propped against the door frame.
“I was concerned about you. I feel so guilty for how I almost knocked you down today.” He licked his lips and her eyes followed the movement of his tongue. “I must see for myself that you are well.”
Without waiting for an invitation he pushed past her into the apartment. She was so shocked she stood staring at the empty doorway for a few moments before closing the door and turning to face him.
He stood directly behind her, so close her nose brushed against the front of his shirt. She sucked in a sudden harsh breath at the unexpected contact and took a few steps back. The scent of sandalwood flowed over her again, intertwined pleasantly with the scent of man. He smelled so good it took all her strength not to lean over and lick his neck.
“You’ve ruined your blouse.” He traced the shape of the stain lightly, the contact sending shivers through her.
His hand came to rest gently on the swell of her breast before he cupped the full weight. His thumb brushed over the nipple that pushed against the fabric.
“What are you doing?” she whispered. He didn’t answer, just pulled her closer until she stood cradled between his legs.
“Since it was my fault, I’ll replace the clothes I damaged.” He punctuated his words with soft kisses to her face, cheeks and neck.
Gentle hands rubbed over her shoulders and down her back, coming to rest on the swell of her backside. She should be pushing him away or at least pretending to be outraged. But the protest she intended to make died a rapid death when his clever fingers danced up her spine to tangle in the long, brown curls hanging loose down her back.
“Here, let’s take them off.”
He slowly unbuttoned her blouse, caressing every inch of pale skin as it was revealed. When he was done, he let the edges hang open. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her plain white bra.
“No, piccolina. Don’t cover yourself. You are beautiful.” Andre slid his hand up the right side of her neck, stroking the downy wisps of hair that curled behind her ear.
One blunt finger slowly stroked the sensitive skin on her neck. His eyes held hers and she understood that he was giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. She chuckled softly. If he only knew some of the things she’d imagined doing to him he wouldn’t worry about rushing her. She clasped his hand and placed it over her heart. The rapid rise and fall of her chest would tell him more than any words.
With a harsh animal growl he took her mouth, his tongue darting out to tangle with hers. He held her head captive as he took his pleasure, feeding off her mouth like she alone had what he needed to survive.
She moaned and let her head fall back granting him access to the sensitive skin on her neck. He bit her gently on the curve of her neck and shoulder, soothing the spot with his tongue afterward.
“Yes. Dear lord, yes…” Her eyes closed helplessly as his hand found her breast and stroked her through the thin cotton. She briefly wished she had on something sexy and enticing. Not that it mattered, because the way he was looking at her made her feel sexy.
It was such an unexpected pleasure to be wanted by a man. She felt powerful and weak at the same time as his lips covered her nipple. Casey sucked in deep breaths as his mouth feathered across her skin. She moved against him, trying to ease the burning ache between her thighs. She couldn’t get close enough and the rough metal of his belt buckle against her heat only made it worse.
“Take them off. Please.” How long had she dreamed about him, dreamed about this? She didn’t want to wait any longer. She didn’t even close her eyes, afraid to miss a moment.
She squirmed as his hand inched up her thigh. He toyed with the edges of her panties, evading as she tried to angle her body so his hand would cover her mound. When one finger slipped beneath the cotton barrier and stroked the damp skin beneath, she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She yanked on his shirt suddenly obsessed with making him as achy as she was. Boldly she wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed.
When he stopped moving and lifted his head, the hunger in his gaze promised there was no turning back.
Andre shifted, laying her on the couch. She panted in anticipation as her arms fell languidly over her head, giving up all control to him. Andre’s eyes drifted over her, his lids lowered, his mouth set in a grim line.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” His voice had taken on a strained, gritty quality.
He captured one of her legs and settled it on his shoulder. The movement opened her to his view, her core splayed open before him. His jaw clenched once, then again as he looked down at her.
“I bet you’re wet for me.” All it took to prove his words was one brush of his knuckles against her wetness.
Casey looked away, embarrassed, as waves of ecstasy washed over her. She felt like a wanton with her legs spread open, all her secrets on display for him like a sexual buffet. She cried out at his next tentative touch, his fingers tracing the opening to her core.
He hooked his hands under her bottom, lifting and pulling her open, the sweet pressure sensitizing her nerves. One finger traced the delicate lips of her sex before dipping inside the snug clasp of her pussy. His fingers were thick and long, pushing slowly to find the deepest part of her. She’d barely adjusted to the twisting ache in her belly when his thumb dipped down to press tentatively against her tiny, puckered hole.
“Oh damn,” She reared up, the sudden shocking pleasure ripping her first orgasm from her. She shuddered under his hands, her muscles clenching furiously around his fingers.
“Have you wanted me all this time as well, bella?” He didn’t slow his explorations, just continued the steady rhythm of his fingers plunging into her over and over again. “I’m thinking…” he curled his fingers inside her pussy wrenching another soft cry from her. “…the answer is yes.”
Her voice deserted her, rising waves of need curling through her again. Her back arched as she tried to find relief from the ache radiating from between her legs.
He stopped briefly to pull his shirt over his head, chuckling at her whimper. When he came back over her, it was skin to skin, the soft hairs on his chest tickling her nipples. He kissed her, tangling his hands in her hair and holding her head still as he loved her tongue with his.
That’s how it felt to Casey, like every stroke of his tongue was a loving touch, every slide of their skin like an embrace. She’d never felt so cherished. So worshipped.
Or so overwhelmed.
She slid her hands into all that glorious dark hair, reveling in the slippery texture of the strands under her fingers. He closed his eyes at her touch, his face conveying his pleasure at her boldness.
“Yes, bella. Touch me. You don’t know what your touch does to me.” He kissed her again, holding her head still for the ruthless exploration of his tongue. There was a desperation, an urgency to his movements. He sipped at her mouth as if he were afraid it would be taken away at any moment. As if he had to savor every last drop of their interaction.
Then he shifted downward and licked her.
Every muscle went rigid at the unexpected pleasure. The heat of his mouth was like an inferno, igniting nerves she didn’t even know existed.
“Oh my god. Oh my god…” She put her fist in her mouth to stifle her wild cries but he pulled her hand down.
“No, I want to hear it when you lose control.” He bent his head again but held her gaze the whole way down. He was a man with a purpose, intent on his task. He was ruthless as he explored her inner walls, flicking his tongue across her skin, determined to make her crazy. She clutched at his shoulders frantically as desire twisted through her.
She needed something to hold on to, something to anchor her in the midst of what felt like a hurricane of sensation.
He did something with his tongue that ripped a hoarse cry from her throat and when her orgasm finally crashed over her, she cried his name so loudly the whole neighborhood probably heard.
“Oh damn…” Aftershocks rolled up and down her spine. He was still licking into her, gentler strokes that brought on a warm, tide of sensation.
“You’re so beautiful when you come for me. It’s something I plan to see again and again.” He licked the arousal from her inner thighs wringing another series of shudders from her. Was there no end to what he could do with that wicked mouth? She was weak at the knees without him even entering her body.
She stretched, her muscles warm and loose. He must have taken that as an invitation because he crawled up her body and took the stiff points of her nipples in his mouth, giving each a gentle bite. She gave herself up to the exquisite pleasure-pain, her soft keening cry the only sound in the room. A few moments later, she opened her eyes to find him watching her, a small satisfied smile curling the edges of his mouth.
“Why do you look so smug?” She ran a hand down his chest until she came to the straining bulge in the front of his trousers. She cupped the outline of his cock, pleased to feel it jerk under her fingers.
“You’re not the only one who can play that game.”
Chapter Two
She sat up and shoved him backward. He looked surprised but obligingly lay back against the cushions of the couch and allowed her to straddle him. She’d never been the aggressor with a man but something about Andre made her bold. She wanted to give him the same pleasure he’d so unselfishly given her.
Not to mention the fact that she wanted to know if she had the power to make such a strong man beg.
“Now let’s see about getting you out of these clothes.” His shirt was already unbuttoned but she pushed the edges of the material down his arms and tugged it off. His skin was a smooth golden color, like amaretto. She hummed in delight as she traced the strong muscles of his arms and chest with her fingers, his skin rippling under her touch.
“These pants have definitely got to go.” She moved back to unzip his trousers. He lifted his hips and allowed her to pull them off along with his briefs. His cock sprang out, as if anxious to see her. A drop of pearly fluid seeped from the tip as she watched and she suddenly wanted to take him in her mouth.
She scooted down until she was on her knees before him and brushed the underside of his cock with her nose.
“Mi amore, don’t tease me. I can’t take it if you do.” He hissed as she nuzzled him, her mouth just a breath away from his tip. “Take me in your mouth. Yes…”
His head fell back as she took him completely in her mouth, swallowing him from root to tip. She swallowed a few times, surprised to hear him bark out a harsh demand in Italian. She didn’t understand what he said but the tone was unmistakable. It was the sound of a man in need.
A man on the brink of losing control.
If her mouth hadn’t been stretched so full she would have smiled. She braced her hands on his knees and took him deeper in her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. Then she lifted her eyes to his and swallowed again.
“Oh bella, you take words away from me.” He tangled his hands in her hair and held her still. He breathed in deeply through his nose as if trying to gain control of himself but she didn’t want him controlled. She wanted to be the woman who made him lose it. She hollowed her cheeks and drew his length through her lips slowly. When she reached the swollen tip she licked it lightly.
The she blew softly on the head.
“Yes, like that…” His head fell back on the couch as she lapped at the tip. It was leaking steadily now and she took great delight in swirling the pearly drops on her tongue.
She closed her eyes and sucked him in rhythmically, his long length stretching the edges of her mouth. She cupped his tight sac and stroked him in time with the motion of her mouth. His thighs tensed hard as granite under her hands as he erupted in her mouth.
“You are such a surprise, little one.” Andre tugged her arm and pulled her up until she sprawled across his lap. She crawled up and snuggled against his bare chest, his heart pounding directly below her ear. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
He tipped her chin up with his finger. He brushed his mouth over hers once, then again, his tongue tracing the shape of her lips. Warmth spread through her as she pressed her lips against his, then tentatively touched her tongue to his lower lip.
The action ignited something in him because he growled into her mouth and took the kiss deeper. His tongue dueled with hers and his fingers speared through her curls to hold her head in place. She felt overtaken and dominated as he took her mouth, the strength of his arms and legs like a steel cage locking her in place. It wasn’t fear she felt as she gave herself up to the sensations racing through her though. Instead she felt liberated, free to experience anything and everything as he led her down the path to sexual fulfillment.
He broke off the kiss and pressed hard kisses over her neck and shoulder. He spread her legs and settled himself between them, holding himself above her with just the strength of his arms. The muscles in his shoulders flexed and corded up as he moved over her, his mouth trailing lower to nip at her breasts. His cock brushed against her leg and she tensed slightly. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. What if he didn’t live up to her expectations? What if it hurt?
“I am going to fill you up.” He bit her lightly on the side of her breast before sucking her nipple, hard. She cried out when he released her with a pop before moving to her other breast. He rolled the tip of her nipple lightly between his lips before blowing on the tip.
Her pussy clenched as if to remind her that it was empty. She grabbed at his arms, restless for him to do something. As much as she loved the foreplay, she needed him to fuck her before she lost her mind.
“What are you thinking bella? You’re blushing all over.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks and she covered her mouth with her hand. He laughed and ground his cock against her. It hit her then that he was teasing her, deliberately not giving her what she needed. The thought made her a little angry but mainly it made her bold.
“I’m thinking of all the things I want you to do to me. How much I want you inside, filling me, stretching me. I want to wrap my legs around you.”
His eyes widened and she felt a thrill. He wasn’t the only one capable of teasing and she doubted he could hold off much longer when she was wet and open beneath him.
Just in case the words weren’t enough, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moaned long and loud as she pressed her wet pussy against the skin of his stomach. In a sudden move that took her breath away, he hooked her legs over his shoulders and sank into her pussy with one thick thrust.
“Andre! It’s too much, it’s too deep.” Her words broke off as he withdrew slightly only to sink back down until he was balls deep. She was so wet that he slid right in despite the snug fit.
He set a hard pace, stroking in and back out with no mercy. He pressed his damp forehead to hers and held her gaze as he powered into her, his eyes telling her she was the only woman he wanted. The only one he needed.
He hit something deep inside her, some secret place that unleashed a storm of need. A knot of desire formed in her core and she writhed beneath him, her nails digging into his back as she braced for it. The depth of what she was feeling was so unfamiliar. Touching herself had never made her feel like this, all hot and achy.
When she came it was probably going to knock her unconscious.
“You’re so tight around me. You are mine. Mine. Mine.” He rasped the words next to her ear, the harsh possessive tone of his voice setting off the first wave of her orgasm. She wailed as desire crashed through her, all her muscles tightening at the same time, her pussy clamping down so hard even Andre cried out.
“Yes, oh god…” She grabbed onto him like a lifeline, feeling like she was caught in an undertow and struggling for air. He cupped her under her bottom and lifted her as he moved, the new angle splaying her open and allowing him to go deeper. He was thrusting faster until his cock was so deep she could almost taste it.
He threw his head back and growled as he came, the veins in his neck and forehead bulging from the intensity. She loved to see him like this. It was incredibly powerful to know that she put that look on his face.
He sank down next to her, careful not to crush her with his weight. “You wore me out my little tigress. I still feel your claws in my back.”
She giggled softly. He’d probably carry the imprint of her nails in his back for days. The thought of him wearing her mark gave her a little thrill. After all, he’d marked her too. The way he’d touched her, licked her and sucked her, well, she was probably ruined for any other man after this.
“Sleep, piccolina. Just sleep here in my arms.” He flipped until she lay across his chest and wrapped her in his arms. His body heat and the strong cadence of his heart lulled her into an easy sleep. She snuggled closer, so warm and content…
…and hit the floor with a hard thud.
“Ouch!”
Disoriented, she sat up slowly and pushed her hair out of her face. The magazine she’d been reading was on the floor next to her, one of the pages ripped out and crumpled. She ran her hands over her body in confusion. She still wore her stained blouse and skirt from work.
“Oh no. Was that all just a dream?”
She cupped her face in her hands and fought the urge to laugh. But all the evidence was there, most damning that she still wore her pantyhose. She’d slept all night on the couch in her clothes.
“Aaaarggh!” She punched the throw pillow next to her.
The faint beeping coming from her bedroom told her it was already past six a.m. She hadn’t gotten the laundry or the dishes done the previous night. Her hair was probably a tangled mess.
She jumped up and walked to her room. She slapped the off button on her alarm clock so hard it fell off the nightstand and crashed to the floor. At this point she might as well call in sick since she’d definitely be late. Not to mention that she didn’t have any clean clothes to wear anyway.
She snatched the cordless phone on her night table and punched the number for her office. Anya, the assistant to the owner, answered on the first ring.
“Seriously, do you ever sleep? What are you doing at the agency so early?”
Silence hummed over the line for a moment and Casey mentally reevaluated what she knew about her friend. Apparently she was more than just an assistant to the owner if she was in the office before normal business hours.
“Never mind. I was just going to leave a message that I can’t come in today. Tell everyone that I’m sick.”
Anya snorted. “Sick? You don’t get sick so you must have had a hot date. Did he keep you up all night?”
Casey laughed. If only Anya knew. Her friend’s assumption was strangely close to the truth. “Not exactly. I just overslept.”
“Hmmn. Well, I suppose Mr. Lavin will be disappointed when he comes in later. Staring at you seems to be the highlight of his visits.”
Casey almost dropped the phone. “The Lavin Group is coming in again? I didn’t see that on the schedule.”
“Andre Lavin himself called and asked for an additional meeting. I think he just wants another chance to ogle you.”
Casey was glad they were just on the phone. If Anya saw the blush that was surely creeping over her face, she’d never hear the end of it.
“I doubt that. But still I should probably come in this afternoon. I wouldn’t want to leave you guys short-handed.”
Casey hung up the phone, not even listening for Anya’s reply. She was going to see him again.
And this time she’d wear a black shirt.
THE END
...but only the beginning.
Casey and Andre's story continues in Asking for Andre published by Ellora’s Cave. Buy directly from the publisher for the lowest pricing. www.ellorascave.com
Keep reading for a special extended excerpt.
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Excerpt of Asking for Andre by Minx Malone
Also Available from Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Copyright © 2011 by Minx Malone
Chapter One
“You need to have a fling.”
Casey Michaels grinned and picked up her headset. She’d been working as a receptionist at the Mirage Advertising Agency for three months now and as cheesy as it was, she felt she’d finally found home. She could wear business-casual attire, she had plenty of free time to do the assigned reading for her online classes and the administrative assistant, Anya Petrova, was quickly becoming her best friend.
Her only friend actually.
“A fling is the last thing I need. I said I was lonely, not slutty.” Casey adjusted the headset and pulled her chair closer to the desk. Recently she’d been given some administrative duties assisting some of the executives in the afternoon while a temp covered the phones. It was a chance for her to work on some interesting projects and gain experience for her resume. It also gave her a much-needed break from the tedium of being stuck behind the reception desk.
“Having a fling does not make you slutty. Having a fling with a loser makes you slutty.” Anya fed another sheet into the fax machine. A second later there was a crunching sound and the paper came out the other side wrinkled and torn.
“Damn this place! I told Law we need a new fax machine.” Anya grabbed the sheet of paper and crumpled it into a ball before throwing it in the trash can under the desk. “That man can’t see what’s right in front of his face.”
Casey wisely chose not to comment. Anya had an on-again, off-again relationship with the owner, James Lawson, which caused her no end of frustration. From what Casey could tell, their boss was in love but Anya just wasn’t ready to commit.
“Even if I was a fling kind of girl, there’s no one for me to have a fling with. I’m not exactly Miss Popular.”
Casey’d always been something of a loner but since moving to the nation’s capital it had been even harder to meet new people. Most of her neighbors worked long hours. She only saw them in passing as they came to and from work. The people she saw at the grocery store and on the subway seemed to change daily.
It was such a stark contrast to the small Virginia town she’d come from where everyone knew each other and crime was almost nonexistent. The entire atmosphere of city life was different. When she’d first arrived she’d thought everyone was talking to themselves until she realized they all had tiny cellphone earpieces in. Some of the women in the office even wore those in the bathroom. Casey couldn’t think of anyone she wanted to talk to that badly.
It was no wonder she had trouble fitting in.
Anya looked pointedly at the clock on the wall. “No one to have a fling with? That will not be a problem, trust me.”
The doors to the agency opened again. The man who walked in wore a tailored, gray pinstriped suit with a black turtleneck. His black hair curled over his collar, the perfect complement to his thickly lashed gray eyes.
She sighed softly. Calling his eyes gray was like calling sunshine yellow. His eyes were sharp and penetrating, as shocking as a bolt of lightning. He was elegance personified, a woman’s walking wet dream.
Andre Lavin was, quite simply, the best part of her day.
He pulled his cell phone from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, holding it up as if trying to get better reception. The move made his jacket ride up. All the blood left Casey’s brain as he turned, giving her an award-winning view of his ass.
She gulped and looked away for a moment. What if he turned around and caught her staring? But like a homing magnet, her eyes were drawn back again and again.
God that man can wear a suit.
She licked her lips as her eyes roamed over his lean arms and broad shoulders. The same arms she imagined holding her down as his body powered over hers. The shoulders she hooked her legs over in her dreams every night. How many times had she woken in the early hours of the morning, damp with sweat, her breasts tight and aching? There were nights she could have cried from her desperate soul-stirring obsession.
Her eyes fluttered shut, her pulse racing in anticipation, her panties damp from the erotic images her brain couldn’t hold back. It was useless thinking of him this way, the worst form of torture her sick mind could conjure. There were few things more futile than imagining the most amazing sex she’d never get to have.
When she opened her eyes again, Andre stood directly in front of the reception desk.
“Mr. Lavin!” She jumped to her feet. Her headset flew off, knocking over a small container of pens on the counter. They rolled in every direction, a few falling over the far edge where he was standing.
She raced around the desk and scrambled to collect the mess. As she snatched the last offender from near his foot, she looked up. Her position put her directly in line with his crotch. She was hardly an expert but whatever was behind that zipper looked big enough to do some damage.
“Oh dear god.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but he must have heard because he made a choking sound that could have been laughter. She glanced at him warily, to find him watching her, his eyes stormy.
“This is quite a welcome, Cassandra”. He hesitated before extending his hand to help her up, his eyes roaming over her in a way that made Casey shiver.
“I’m so sorry, sir.”
He still held her hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. The gesture would seem contrived coming from anyone else but was as natural as breathing to him. When he flipped her hand over to kiss the inside of her wrist, she sucked in a shocked breath. How could any culture consider this a polite greeting? His lips dragging over her skin roused feelings that were anything but proper.
“There is nothing to be sorry for. I can’t say the sight of you in any position is something to apologize for.”
With that shocking statement, he inclined his head to her in a half bow before turning and walking away. She stood staring after him, watching as he was met by the owner of the company with a hearty handshake.
The sight of you in any position…
His scandalous words of course had her imagining just what she could do to him in that position. She’d always been awkward and self-conscious during sex. She couldn’t imagine kneeling before a man, boldly taking him in her mouth while he watched.
Just the thought of Andre watching her do that brought enough heat to her cheeks to light a match.
Behind her, Anya cleared her throat. “You know, there’s a trick to a successful fling.”
Casey pressed the backs of her hands to her cheeks, hoping to cool the blush that lingered. She smoothed down her skirt and went back behind her desk, dropping down in her seat with a weary sigh. “Is there?”
“You have to pick someone who won’t expect any messy romance or complications. Someone sophisticated.” The other woman nodded pointedly in Andre’s direction before turning her attention back to the fax machine.
Casey let out an exasperated breath. Despite his flirtatious nature, Andre would never see her that way. He was a paparazzi favorite, regularly photographed with actresses and starlets.
So far out of her league he was orbiting in his own galaxy.
Over the past few months, they’d shared off-hand conversations about books, current events and her desire to travel. He was an unusually good listener and seemed to remember every detail she’d ever shared with him. Once he learned how much Casey wanted to visit Italy, he’d brought her pictures of his villa in Positano, told her stories of life growing up there and encouraged her to plan a visit.
Despite the fact her agency worked for him, Andre never treated her like an underling. He was courteous, respectful—everything a gentleman should be. He’d had ample opportunity to make a move on her but never did. He might flirt a little but she suspected that was just an ingrained part of his personality. Considering the type of women he was known for dating, she doubted he meant anything by it. She was hardly supermodel material.
Which was just one more reason she needed to get over this stupid crush before she ended up embarrassing herself.
Anya pulled a brown paper sack from her bag on the floor and held it out to Casey. “Oh, I almost forgot. I brought beignets from that place you like.”
Casey squealed and ripped into the bag immediately. She popped a beignet in her mouth, where the soft pastry melted on her tongue like butter. “Man, these are better than sex. Who needs men when you have melt-in-your-mouth French pastries?”
“Would you say that if you knew Mr. Lavin was asking about you the other day, I wonder?” Anya smiled craftily when Casey swiveled around to face her. “Well, that got your attention, didn’t it?”
“Mr. Lavin asked about me? What did you say?” Casey narrowed her eyes. Anya was quirky enough to do just about anything.
“He just asked how long you’d worked here. If he had known we hired you he wouldn’t have waited so long to start work on his new campaign, I’m sure.” Anya smirked.
“I’m sure he was just making polite conversation.” Casey tucked a stray curl behind her ear and tried to look nonchalant.
Anya leaned against the file cabinet and crossed her long legs. “I think he’s trying to find out more about you without being totally obvious. I told him you were twenty-six, single and in desperate need of getting laid.”
Casey gaped. “You did not actually say that?” She supposed it could be worse, although Anya made her sound about as exciting as a cloistered nun. Not that she’d be far off the mark. When was the last time she’d had a date?
“No, but I should have. He obviously likes you even though you give him no encouragement at all. The man is gorgeous and he stares at you whenever he thinks no one is watching. I even like the way he says your name. Cassandra,” she purred, rolling the “r” the way Andre did. Anya let out a dramatic sigh and popped another pastry in her mouth.
“It’s ridiculous. And embarrassing. No one calls me Cassandra. I’ve always just been tomboy Casey.”
“It’s sexy, especially with his accent. You should give him a chance.” She shook her head, seemingly perplexed that anyone would want to hide from a handsome, rich man.
“Are you kidding me?” Casey whispered. As he walked by, she scanned him from the top of his head to the bottom of his leather-clad soles. Despite all the time they’d spent talking, she still blushed every time he said hello. To her chagrin, he seemed determined to do so every time he came in. No matter who else was around or what was going on, he sought her out. She suspected he enjoyed watching her get flustered.
“A man like that is exactly what you need in your life. Shoot, a man like that is exactly what every girl needs in her life.”
When Andre turned in their direction, Casey spun around in her chair. Heart pounding, she peeked over her shoulder a few moments later, just in time to see his back disappear into a conference room.
“The only reason he stares at me is because I’m always dropping things or tripping in front of him. He’s probably just trying to stay out of my way.”
Anya chuckled. “Yeah, there was that time you spilled coffee all over yourself just because he said hello. That was pretty bad. But other than that, it’s been harmless stuff. He seems to like you all tongue-tied and klutzy.”
Casey rolled her eyes as she recalled all the times she’d embarrassed herself in his presence. At this point it was best not to even keep track.
“Anya, men like that date supermodels and actresses. Not broke, fashion-challenged receptionists, okay?” She looked down at her plain, beige, cable-knit sweater and brown tweed skirt. Both items had been purchased at the thrift store three blocks from her apartment. She ran a hand gently over the soft, nubby fabric of her sweater. It was usually one of her favorites.
Casey glanced at the conference door again. No matter how nice he was, she couldn’t forget they were from two different worlds. Andre Lavin probably spent more money on toilet paper than she did on clothes. The thought made her a little sick.
“Well, apparently he never got that memo because he seems very interested in getting to know you. So what are you afraid of? Are you worried that if you let your hair down a little he might actually ask you out?” Anya reached over and pulled the clip from Casey’s hair. The long, brown strands tumbled over her shoulders.
“Hey!” Casey tried unsuccessfully to grab it back before giving up and twirling her hair into a low bun. She secured it with a rubber band. “I am not afraid of anything.”
There’s no reason to fear something that could never happen. Andre Lavin asking me out is about as likely as a spaceship full of Martians landing on the lawn outside.
“I just hate having my hair all over the place. Some of us are trying to be professional.” Casey focused on typing up a memo. Maybe if she just pretended Anya wasn’t there the other woman would give up and leave her alone.
“You’re trying to be invisible. Besides, you know very well I’m talking about more than just your hair.” Anya pulled Casey to her feet and surveyed her from head to foot.
“If you would take the granny bun down and lose those outdated clothes you would actually be hot. And of course get a better bra.” She cupped Casey’s breasts, pushing them up higher on her chest.
Casey stood stunned for a moment before jumping back so fast she bumped into the filing cabinet. “Anya! What are you doing? Are you feeling me up?”
“Don’t complain. This is probably more action than you’ve had in months.” Grinning triumphantly, Anya crossed her arms. “I knew you had a good figure under those shapeless clothes. If I had a perky rack like that I would just walk around in nothing but a bra all day.”
Casey laughed despite herself and plopped back down in her chair. “It’s official. You are truly insane, you know that?”
“I may be crazy but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Anya reached around her and hit the red button on the multi-line phone that sent all calls to the recorded greeting.
“What are you doing?”
“I am going to help you. And you are not going to say no. Think of me as your fairy godmother.” Anya grabbed Casey’s hands and pulled her up, a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. “We don’t have time to really shop the way I want over lunch break but we can at least get you some new makeup or something. I’ll get one of the other assistants to cover the phones.”
“Oh no. I don’t like where this is going,” Casey groaned. She’d learned the hard way that when Anya got in one of her moods it was best not to fight it. She was like a tornado. You either took cover or let yourself get swept up in the chaos and hoped for a gentle landing.
Besides, it was probably better if she wasn’t here when Andre finished his meeting. He would come over to say hello and she’d inevitably do something ridiculous or embarrassing. So far, he seemed to think she was just clumsy. If he ever figured out the real reason Casey was so awkward around him he’d run the other direction.
Or worse, feel sorry for her.
“Let’s go shopping on Sunday. I assume you already have a dress for the Preview Gala?” Casey nodded reluctantly. Normally she avoided social events like the plague but the company’s annual meeting was mandatory, even for nobodies like her. She could only hope she didn’t trip over her own feet or worse be forced out on the dance floor. Parties were only fun for social butterflies like Anya.
For shy, awkward people like her, they were a special brand of torture.
“Well, after the Gala is over we’ll go shopping for your new wardrobe. No more bulky sweaters and dowdy skirts. We have to play up your assets.” Anya rubbed her hands together gleefully.
“Am I going to regret this?” Casey crossed her arms over her chest. Images of her dressed in revealing club clothes floated through her mind. The other woman had great taste but she was much more outgoing. Anya wouldn’t be uncomfortable in a skintight miniskirt or a blouse that showed a ton of cleavage but those things were Casey’s worst nightmare.
Anya pushed her lips out into an exaggerated pout. “Have a little faith. I know what I’m doing. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
* * * * *
“I’m not sure about this new slogan.” Andre Lavin rubbed his hands roughly over his face, trying to erase months of stress. He was so tired he almost felt intoxicated but seeing his dream come to life was worth a thousand sleepless nights. “Living the Lavin Life. It sounds like a rip-off of a cheesy pop song.”
James Lawson, owner of Mirage Advertising Agency, patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “Wait until you see the presentation. The campaign we’ve generated is youthful and high energy. It’s exactly what you need for a launch into the American market.“
“I hope so.” He’d already seen presentations for two alternate slogans and they were no closer to capturing the essence of what he was about than the current one. As much as he liked the Mirage Agency, if they couldn’t deliver what he needed he would have to go elsewhere. Firing his agents wouldn’t be fun but he hadn’t reached this point in his career by being soft. He did what had to be done even when it wasn’t easy.
As the eldest son of Nicolas and Stefania Lavin, he really didn’t have to work. He and his younger brother Philippe were considered two of the most eligible bachelors in Europe. This was due in part to the considerable inherited wealth left to them by their late father, a French financier, as well as the impeccable bloodline bestowed on them by their mother, a direct descendent of the now deposed Italian royal family.
There were so many who’d thought the pampered son of an aristocratic family didn’t have the fortitude to run a successful business. Some were still waiting for him to fail. If Andre had his way, they were in for a long wait. He’d waited his entire career to launch his international campaign. He wouldn’t see it derailed for any reason.
Not even friendships.
“I have the production figures. We’re in good shape.” Jason Gautier, his business partner and best friend, appeared at his left side. His blond hair was cut into a short, spiky do, more for ease and comfort than style. His friend had been accused more than once of having a calculator for a brain and a cash register for a heart. Success was his life’s blood. It was one of the things they had in common.
“Fantastic. Do we still have that conference call with the bank this afternoon?”
“Actually, there was a mix-up. We’re supposed to be on that call in about ten minutes.” At his glower, Jason shrugged apologetically and crossed his arms. “Don’t shoot the messenger. How do you want to handle this?”
“Gentlemen, I think I have a solution.” Law waved over his assistant, a stunning Eastern European woman with short, dark hair. He whispered something in her ear and she turned and sashayed off.
Law glanced at his watch. “We don’t have anything major booked for next week so if you’re planning to stay in town through the weekend, we could reschedule.”
“We were planning to fly back to Milan tonight…” Andre trailed off as they left the conference room and Cassandra entered his line of vision. His cock filled as if happy to see her again. He cursed softly and turned away, giving himself time to calm down.
It was like this whenever she was around. His reaction made him feel like a lecher, especially since from a distance she resembled a fairy child more so than a grown woman. But she was one hell of a woman.
Ever since he’d first seen her three months ago, he’d battled this borderline obsession. He knew her every expression, the way she tilted her head when listening or pursed her lips when she didn’t agree with something. Her skin was very pale and coupled with her curly, dark hair, was incredibly striking. She was delicately built, petite with slim hips, but he knew from their conversations she was no pushover. She might look fragile but she had a backbone of steel.
Then to see her today on her knees before him, Dio. It’d be weeks before he could look at her without imagining the scenario as it had played out in his mind. He’d imagined her leaning forward and tugging down his zipper. Her tiny hands cupping his length as her full lips stretched around his cock. It had taken all his willpower to beat back the surge of lust and help her to her feet when everything in him wanted to keep her on her knees.
Andre turned at the sharp nudge in his side. Jason lifted his eyebrows in inquiry before stretching to see over his shoulder. Andre stepped forward blocking his view. He wasn’t sure what drove the protective instinct, but in that moment he didn’t want his friend anywhere near her. Jason viewed women like candy. He wanted to sample every flavor available as often as possible and he was handsome enough that seduction came easily.
Jason frowned. “I was just saying our schedule is flexible enough that we can stay until Monday. Unless you’re intent on flying back tonight.”
Law rubbed his hands together. “I’m sure we’ve mentioned this before but our annual company Preview Gala is tomorrow night. We showcase our most high-profile campaigns from the prior year and do a few sneak peeks of current projects.”
Andre stilled. “A company meeting? Do all of the employees usually show up?”
Law nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s mandatory for employees. Even if it wasn’t, I’m sure they’d come anyway. We put on quite a party. If you’re going to be in town, it would be an honor for you to drop in. Then, I’ll have our designers rearrange their schedules to accommodate you on Monday afternoon.”
Andre wiped a hand over his face to stifle the silly smile he feared he was wearing. He was going to see Cassandra this weekend. He’d been trying to get closer to her, coaxing her to talk to him and had shared as much about himself as he could without pushing too hard.
He’d hoped that she’d warm up over time so he could propose meeting for coffee or perhaps even lunch. Despite his efforts, she was still hesitant when they talked, probably because they were always surrounded by other people.
Andre closed his eyes and imagined dancing with her. The soft weight of her hand on his shoulder, the press of her small frame against his as they moved. He could remember every time she’d ever touched him, a fleeting glide of her fingers when she handed him something or the brush of their shoulders when they passed in the hallway.
It had been all he could do some days not to scoop her up in his arms and cover her plump lips with his. But if he did that, he’d never have a chance with her. She was obviously sheltered and so reserved he feared using stronger tactics. He didn’t want to offend her.
Now Andre would get to see her in a different environment where she might be more comfortable. Something inside him felt absurdly excited to discover the secret thoughts Cassandra only hinted at. He wanted to know everything, especially the things she was too shy to say in front of others. He wanted to know what she wanted and what she desired. He was ready to deliver anything she needed.
“Well, if we’re staying through until Monday anyway, we’d love to attend your party. Thank you for being so accommodating.” He nodded briefly at Law.
Jason fell into step next to him as they walked back down the hall. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been distracted. Impatient.”
Andre stopped abruptly when they reached the front of the office. The reception area was empty. His fairy was gone. He’d missed his chance to say goodbye and see her cheeks redden as she smiled up from beneath her dark lashes. He rubbed the center of his chest absently and glanced at his watch. Even fairies had to eat lunch it seemed.
“Nothing is wrong with me. I don’t have time for anything to be wrong with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut when he realized he was glaring at the empty receptionist chair as if it held the answer to all his problems. “Are you as tired as I am?”
“Probably. I just make tired look good.” Jason chuckled softly. “You on the other hand, look like shit.”
“Thanks amico. This is what friends are for.” Laughing, they pushed open the agency’s glass double doors and stepped out into the crisp winter air. The cold slap in the face was exactly what Andre needed, clearing the cobwebs from his brain and sharpening his focus.
As tempting as it was, he couldn’t afford a mental vacation right now. Not when so much was on the line. He pulled out his cell phone. There were ten voicemails waiting since he’d last checked an hour ago. Most of them probably from his mother who was intent on marrying him off to one of the beautiful but empty-headed young women in her exclusive social circle. He doubted his email inbox fared any better. More messages from people who wanted something from him, no doubt.
He loved his life but there were times when being Andre Lavin was exhausting.
* * * * *
“I’m calling for Olivia Michaels, please. Yes, I’ll hold.” Casey tucked her cell phone into the curve of her shoulder so she could pull her pajama bottoms on.
Her mother worked the night shift at the Pleasant Hills retirement home because the later shift brought in more money. Since Casey didn’t feel comfortable making personal calls during her work hours, she’d gotten into the routine of calling her mom before she went to bed. By then most of the seniors had everything they needed for the night and her mom was able to take a break and chat.
“Hi, babycakes, how are you?” Olivia sounded upbeat but Casey could hear the exhaustion in her mother’s voice.
“I’m great, Mom. In fact, I got a promotion at work. It’s more money and more responsibility. I’ll actually be working with the marketing team now instead of just sitting behind the front desk.”
“Oh baby, I’m so proud of you. I knew that would happen. Didn’t I tell you? Anybody can see what a hard worker you are and how smart you are. I’ll just bet they promote you again once you finish your degree.” Her mom sighed, the sound filled with contentment.
Her mother never criticized her or made her feel guilty but Casey knew her mom’s life would have been completely different if she hadn’t gotten pregnant and had to drop out of college. She worked so hard all the time but never complained. The only time Casey’d ever heard her cry was when she called to tell her she’d flunked out of school. It felt good to give her mom a reason to smile again.
“I hope so, Mom. I’m just glad that I’ll finally be able to help you out with the bills some now,” Casey said.
“Cassandra Anne, I am just fine. I told you I make more working the late shift at this place. They gave me a nice increase to steal me away from the hospital. They have a hard time finding nurses with the patience to deal with some of the older folks here. They can get a little ornery sometimes. I just want you to concentrate on your studies. I don’t need anything,” Olivia stated.
“Mom, you can at least go back to the normal shift again. The extra money I’m making means you won’t have to work so hard all the time. You deserve to take a break.”
“But I don’t want to change shifts, baby girl. I’ve gotten used to this schedule and well, I have friends here.”
Casey grinned. Her mom almost sounded embarrassed. “Mom, do you have a boyfriend at work? Is it one of the other night nurses?”
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