The Invitation 2:
Surrender
by Roxy Sloane
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Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2014 Roxy Sloane
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
PROLOGUE
When was the last time you came?
Is someone there with you now -- touching you, teasing your stiff nipples, making you beg and moan? Are there hands on your body, sliding over your damp skin? A hard, thick cock driving deep inside you, relentless, until you think you’ll lose your mind?
Or are you alone?
The lights dimmed, your legs easing apart. Fingers, stroking lower. Your head falling back against the pillows.
What do you imagine when you close your eyes?
One lover, or many? A soft touch, or a punishing grip: fingers digging into your thighs, holding you down, fisting your hair in a tight knot as you part your lips in a silent cry of pleasure.
Do you picture people watching, their eyes roaming across your naked flesh as you pant for air? Or are you the one hidden in the shadows, watching someone else as they come undone?
You want it on your knees, his cock thrusting all the way into your wet, needy mouth. You want to be tied down, his mouth claiming you, his tongue licking deep against your tight, aching cunt.
You want pleasure. You want pain. You imagine it all, every time. A flash of images, your body rising to your touch. You play the scenes out, every detail, as that craving twists higher and your breath turns shallow and your skin aches for a release that’s close, closer...
Oh.
You felt it, didn’t you? But it wasn’t the touch that took you there, not just a simple, animal response. It was your imagination. Those secret, sensual fantasies, more private than anything you could say out loud.
More powerful than a hundred hard fucks.
Most other men don’t realize. They think sex is about friction and girth. They think surrender is a pair of handcuffs and a silk scarf. They don’t understand, a woman’s most powerful erogenous zone is her mind.
But I do.
I know your darkest desires. I see what you crave when he’s holding you at night.
I can show you a pleasure beyond reason, beyond your wildest fantasies.
All you have to do is accept my invitation.
Are you ready to play?
CHAPTER ONE
I step through the door to a cute little French bistro on the Upper East Side and scan the crowd.
“Can I help you?” The hostess asks, but I’ve already spotted my hot date for the morning.
“I’m good, thanks.”
I grin as I sneak up behind the table and whisper, “Hello, sexy.”
Keely jumps, then her face explodes in a huge smile. “Justine!” My best friend leaps up and pulls me into a big hug. “Oh my god, it’s been too long!”
Two months too long. Keely moved to New York from LA in the summer to take over her long-lost father's multi-million dollar company, and it's been hard not seeing her around the office every day. I’ve missed her.
She pulls away and I finally get a good look. She’s gorgeous, put together with a confidence that she never used to possess.
“Don't you look fantastic?” I tease. “All that hot sex agrees with you.”
The old Keely would have blushed, but this new, confident version just winks. “Don't you know it,” she shoots back with a grin.
A waiter rushes over with a menu, and we order enough food to feed an army. “And champagne mimosas too,” I insist. “This is a celebration.”
I turn back to Keely, and clock the glittering diamond on her ring finger for the first time.
“What the fuck?” I gasp. “Why didn’t you say something?”
She giggles. “I wanted to surprise you in person.”
“C’mon,” I order, beckoning. “Let me see that beast of a rock.” She holds out her hand and I whistle my appreciation.
“Vaughn knows what he’s doing,” I grin. “Treating my girl right.”
“I can’t believe I’m this happy,” Keely beams. “I keep expecting to wake up and find it’s all just a dream.”
“You deserve it,” I tell her warmly. “You had a crazy year, and this is the cherry on top. The sixteen carat fuck off cherry,” I add with a laugh.
“You’ll find someone too,” Keely says quickly.
I shrug. “I’m in no rush. After all, with you off the market, someone’s got to keep the men of New York City on their toes.”
“They won’t know what’s hit them,” she laughs, then sneezes.
“You OK?”
“It's just allergies.” Keely waves away my concern. “They’ve been acting up. I’m fine.” She searches through her purse for a tissue, so I dig one out of my massive leather work bag. My hand closes around something smooth and solid instead.
The gift I found waiting back at the apartment when I arrived last night.
Normally, I stay in fancy hotels on business trips. It’s my little indulgence – a way to make days of boring depositions go by quicker with room service and huge soaking tubs. But this trip was so last-minute, Keely offered me the use of one of her corporate rentals, a palatial suite on the Upper East Side of town.
“Did you tell anyone I was staying at the apartment?” I ask, trying to be casual.
“No. I don't think so.” Keely pauses, frowning. “Just Vaughn. And, Cam, too, of course. He dropped the door key off for me. Why? Was there a problem?”
“No problem,” I say quickly. “The place is amazing, thank you so much. I was just wondering…” I pause. “Wait a second. Who's Cam? Don't tell me you have a man on the side already,” I tease.
Keely laughs. “Not even close. Cameron McCullough, he’s my second-in-command at the company. Ooh,” she brightens, “Maybe I could set you up.”
“Is he hot? Rich? Single?” I ask.
“All of the above. But you'd eat him alive,” Keely laughs.
I wink, and reach for my champagne. “Maybe he'd like it.”
The food arrives, and we catch up on all the gossip she’s been missing.
“How's your mom doing?” Keely asks between bites.
“She's great. For her fiftieth birthday, I sent her off on a cruise to Alaska,” I laugh. “She came back with fifty million photos, and a standing Skype date with a certain bachelor in San Diego.”
“Good for her,” Keely grins.
“I’m just happy I get to pay her back, in some way,” I say. “She sacrificed so much to raise us on her own.” One of the best things about my job is getting to treat her like this. My dad took off when my younger sister and I were just kids, and I know how hard my mom worked to keep us all afloat.
“I've been meaning to thank you, by the way,” I change the subject. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here in New York right now.”