By Deborah Ann
The Deal is the story of Bethany Drake and her twist of fate journey with Adam Blaire.
It was the perfect deal… ‘Sex, devoid of emotion.’ No commitment, no dating, no romance, no intimacy, or courting nonsense… Sex! Pleasure! Pure and simple. Without the tangled ties! How could they possibly go wrong?
On a business flight from LAX to Toronto, Bethany Drake has the delightful, though unexpected, fortune of being seated next to gorgeous and boldly exciting Adam Blaire—the most sought after divorce attorney in Beverly Hills, with a steadfast belief against commitment and/or monogamy.
Bethany, a successful graphic designer with her own agency, has never been very successful in the relationship department, and her recent breakup has left her sworn off men. But the gorgeous man beside her draws her in, compels a trust in him that she just can’t deny, and she throws caution to the wind.
After an illicit encounter midair, the two end up sharing a blissful night of ecstasy in a Toronto hotel suite, which leaves them with an appetite for each other, and a brainstorm…when neither is able to get the other out from under their skin.
The deal: ‘Sex, devoid of any emotion or connection, other than pure, raw pleasure.
It seems a win win.
They set to deliciously agreeing to the rules, while in bed, naked, armed with a tube of lipstick, chocolate sauce, and an iPad, for photographic proof. With a clear price set, the consequence, if emotions should come into play… They’ll simply walk away. Deal’s off!
What they do not plan for, or expect, are the intimate moments that sneak in between the sex. The ease of comfort between them… The connection… Their soul deep need for the other…
The man simply nuzzles his way into every crevice of her life.
For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart.
It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul…
“So, we have a deal. Sex, devoid of any emotion or connection, other than pure, raw pleasure.”
He held his hand out to me, and I met my palm to his, to shake on it.
“Yep. That’s the deal.”
I met Adam last month on a business flight from LAX to Toronto; he, too, was traveling on business, and was seated beside me in first class. My initial impression of Adam, was that he was extremely good-looking—obvious to all upon seeing him, I was sure: classic Hollywood looks, dark hair, tanned skin, pale blue-green eyes, softly chiseled bone structure, with a bodybuilder’s physique—and very well put together, in his custom fitted, steely blue designer suit. I’d assumed he was married—with kids, a house in the suburbs, and probably a dog or two.
Wow. Was I wrong. Not only was Adam not married, not saddled with kids and a suburban lifestyle, he’d never even came close to popping the question to a woman—other than the high school girlfriend that he’d ditched in law school. And his profession, as the top divorce attorney in Beverley Hills and the entire LA County alike, had done nothing to sell him on the institution of marriage, or relationships in general.
I, myself, had just ended a somewhat long relationship; that I wouldn’t say was serious, at least not as it should have been for living together for six months. This was just another in a series of failed relationships for me—further disheartening me of the male gender as a whole and their lack of evolvement when it came to a successful business woman, and convincing me that I was meant to live alone, without a traditional partner to share my life with.
Adam and I ended up sharing the night together and experiencing, what I would say was, the best sex of my life.
It wasn’t until a week later that I heard from Adam again. I avoided his first two calls—unsure how he’d even found me or obtained my number. But when I opened the package he’d sent over, and saw a single pair of handcuffs, I must say, I was enticed; at least enough to return his call and see what he had in mind.
As if the handcuffs hadn’t alluded to that.
He had a suite at the Sheraton Airport Hotel, in preparation for an early morning flight out the next day, and would be out of town for the following two weeks. He suggested I come stay the night with him. After the night I’d spent with Adam in Toronto, a night of ecstasy incomparable to any other in my life, a night that entered my thoughts day and night, at very inappropriate moments, I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to experience that again.
Adam had a limo to me in twenty minutes—to my surprise, with him in it, to get the pleasure started.
I’d thought of him even more on his two weeks away, and the things that we’d done—moreover, the things I’d let him do to me, that I would never have allowed in the past with any other man.
I’d never met a man with as much stamina; it didn’t seem possible that he could physically be ready for another go around so quickly, and with just as much—if not more—arousing pleasure.
But I wasn’t complaining; truly, it was a gift.
Though I’d also never been more sore in my life, and vowed to spend more time at the gym.
Oh, I should probably mention the act that solidified my decision to stay with Adam that first night—a perfectly random stranger that compelled a trust in him that I couldn’t explain nor deny—his audacity, and his wickedly skilled fingers reaching to my inner thigh on a slow glide up under my skirt, with an air cabin full of awake bodies and an overly conscientious, frequently passing by flight attendant.
When his fingers found what they’d sought, his eyes flicked to mine, finding more than he’d expected. No panties!
I worked my bottom lip between my teeth—rewarded with a spark in the sea of his eyes—nearly ready to explode from the heat of his touch so dangerously close to my pantieless pleasure point, fearing the threat of an involuntary shudder and audible whimper or scream in the close proximity of that cabin.
Adam seemed to sense my need then—or maybe just shared it—and did a little shifting of his laptop, somewhat shielding the view of what we were engaging in.
I slid my hand toward him, feeling my way under the laptop and settling between his legs, again rewarded, this time with his obvious excitement. Just as my fingers gripped around him, his head slightly shook at me, warning me off.
My eyebrows pushed together in frustration, not a bit happy that he was not going to let me reciprocate the gesture of pleasure. I slipped my hand back to the armrest between us, matching the grip my other hand had on the armrest at my other side, as Adam dipped a finger inside, then another when he found it slick enough. I inhaled a sharp breath, my body already shuddering. Jesus. A moan slipped out and I bit my bottom lip harder, trying not to cry out.
Adam’s eyes where focused on me, a devilish, sexy grin spread across his features, watching my expression as his thumb spun delicious circles on just the right spot and his fingers worked their magic inside.
Oh God, he was merciless.
I pressed back against my seat, my lower half arching into his hand, the slight turbulence adding to my pleasure. Just as my body had tensed to an almost unbearable point, ready for release, Adam pushed his mouth hard to mine, his tongue working my bottom lip out from between my teeth and tangling deep with mine, pushing my release and catching my cry in his mouth. Holy Mother of Christ, was that an unbelievable moment of release.
With all of that in mind, when he called upon his return to town and asked me to meet with him at his office, I had agreed without thought.
Which was what led us to shaking on the present deal—besides, I’d yet to see what he had in mind with those handcuffs he’d enticed me with.
Adam’s hand still clasped with mine—his other slipping his tie and first three shirt buttons loose—he pulled me from my seat and yanked me to him, fixing our joined arms around my back. “Any revisions you’d like to add,” he breathed against my neck, already nuzzled in. “Something off limits, maybe?”
As if I could think with his tongue and lips trailing behind my ear and down the side of my neck, his free hand cupped at the side of my breast.
“Uh…” Damn, my knees were buckling beneath me.
And when the hell did my blouse fall open?
“Ropes…? Flogging…? Threesomes, foursomes…? Toys…?” Adam’s lips moved to the swell of my breasts.
Holy crap! “Uh…” I caught my breath, my head tilted back to ease his way. “None of the above, if you don’t mind.”
“I mind not in the least.” He slipped his tongue under the lacy edge of my pink bra. “Just clarifying. If there’s a fantasy you’d like to play out, I’m happy to pleasure you with it.”
Adam pushed my bra down, both breasts propped up by the cups, his tongue licking to my nipple. Ah, he had the most amazing tongue.
“What about you?” I murmured. “Is there a fantasy you’ve dreamed of?” I was a little frightened how he’d respond to that open invitation, but he was considerate enough to ask me, so I felt I had to return the favor. Though I prayed it wasn’t the foursome.
“Sweetheart, you are the fantasy,” he throatily replied.
With that, I tugged his crisp white shirt free from his pants, my fingers skirting the edge to slip it off of him with an immediate need to feel his skin on mine. “I, uh…” His shirt fell to the carpeted floor, along with my own, and Adam laid me back on his desk, working my skirt free.
Adam’s mouth paused on my bellybutton, his eyes swinging to mine. “What, about them?”
I coyly worried one side of my bottom lip. “Eh…We’ve yet, to use them.” Now my bottom lip was entirely pressed between my teeth, holding back the grin I felt when I caught the dangerous smile that flickered across Adam’s features, twinkling in his eyes.
“Ahh, a fantasy after all.” He slid up my body, taking my bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it. “We’ll have some fun with the handcuffs tonight.” Then he consumed me with a thought losing kiss.
My hands swept through the sides of his thick, dark hair, twisting and bunching it up in my palms, his body pressed against me as he kissed me with abandon.
I couldn’t take it; I pushed my hands between us, fumbling at his zipper.
“Mm mm,” Adam shook his head, releasing my lips and slipping back down my torso, licking and kissing along the way.
“I have another plan, to show you my gratitude for agreeing to…” His teeth clamped on to the top edge of my panties, wiggling them down with the help of his fingers hooked at the sides.
Lord. “Is the door locked?” It was a sudden realization, peeking in from the thick haze of lust.
“That’s part of the thrill, honey.” And he nipped between my legs, his tongue dipping in to pay gratitude.
I. Am. A. Lucky. Girl…
~ * ~
Adam stood before me, slipping my skirt back up my legs and over my hips, my body wrung with pleasure, sprawled on his impressive desk. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to return the favor, maybe climb up on this desk with me and…”
“I’m sure. We’ll save that for tonight.” He wiggled my bra back into place, tucking my breasts securely within the cups.
I giggled. This was a new one for me; men weren’t usually too inclined to put clothes back on a woman, at least none that I’d been with.
“Besides, you don’t look to have much stamina left.” His lips quirked into a haughty grin.
“Blame that on your magical tongue and deliciously skillful fingers, Mr. Blaire.” He helped me up from the desk, holding me to him until I got my land legs back. Sheesh, can this man work some magic and weaken the knees.
“I’ll send a car for you at seven,” he murmured into my hair. “Will your work be finished by then?”
I pulled back, my hands affixed on Adam’s chest. “I can get there on my own.”
“I’m very aware of that. But I’d like to do this for you; it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
Gentlemanly, my ass. My head cocked to the side. “I didn’t agree to be your kept woman, Mr. Blaire. I am a free agent in this deal.” I took a couple steps back, seeking distance from his mind-boggling influence.
Adam chuckled. “Yes, I am very aware of that, also.
It is up there with your most attractive qualities. That sassy independence and strength.”
He strolled a little closer toward me, my heart picking up in its beat.
I held my arm out in front of me to hold him back. Adam worked that impossible grin on me, making me want to yank on a belt loop and pull that shirtless body to me for another go round—this time on top of him.
But I didn’t.
“Seems we need to work out some details in our deal,” I said to him, my hand on his chest holding him back, a jolt of desire thundering through me from the touch. And, damn it, by the look in his eyes and that cocky grin, he knew it.
Adam’s large hand caught around my wrist, removing my hand from his chest with ease. “Tonight; I have work to get back to now.” He pressed the front of his body to mine, forcing me to sway back over his desk.
“Details, before we play…” I said firmly—well, that was my intent, anyway. In actuality it was a faint murmur, in effect to Adam’s closeness.
“I promise,” Adam whispered on my cheek. “Then, maybe, you’d like to use the handcuffs… on me.”
Whoa. My insides sparked with interest. “I’m holding you to that.”
“I look forward to it.” He kissed me once more, making it deep to impress a lingering desire for more.
And then released me and began tucking his shirt back into his slacks as I set on my way, praying my shaky legs wouldn’t give way on my exit…
“Forgetting something?” Adam said after me, amusement in his voice. I turned back, catching a peek at my white lace panties dangling from his fingers, a salacious grin in place. Damn it. “I hadn’t thought you owned any,” he teased.
Typically, I preferred to not wear panties, but the white skirt I’d worn today warranted a bit more coverage. I took a step toward Adam…immediately halted by his words.
“I’ll be holding on to these, sweetheart.” He stuffed the scrap of lace into his pants pocket. “So you remember where I’ve been today…and where I’m going tonight.”
Oh, hell I’ll be remembering him all right! I swallowed hard and forced my shaky legs to take me on my way…
I was out of sorts the rest of the workday—Gotta love that man!—in anticipation for what would follow, trying my damnedest to focus on my design project, when all I could think about was what Adam’s bedroom would look like, imagining and daydreaming about our naughty doings there, when my partner barged into my office…
“Where were you?” she charged.
We own and operate a graphic design agency, ‘Drake Designs’—well, technically, I own it, Bethany Drake, and I brought my best friend, Lizzy, in as a partner after the business took off; she’s an amazing artist.
We accommodate all aspects of one’s graphic design needs: advertising, marketing, web design, events, logos, etcetera. If it’s visual, we do it.
“You were gone for so long; did you have a meeting I wasn’t aware of?” She plopped her tiny tush into one of the two red chairs situated in front of my desk, her blonde bob swishing and bouncing. “I didn’t see anything on your schedule.”
Crap. “I had an unexpected meeting to tend to.”
Lizzy gave me a speculating look, searching my features.
Double crap. She knows me too well. I nonchalantly pushed papers and files about on my desk, avoiding eye contact. “How did the Garrett meeting go? Did they like our design ideas,” I asked her coolly.
“Loved them.” Lizzy beamed with confidence, moving excitedly to the edge of her chair. “They wanted not one thing changed. We hit the nail on the head, my friend.”
“Fabulous. Then we’ll move forward.”
“I hope Millicent will be as pleased with what we are proposing.”
Ah, I winced, Millicent’s Café. I’d forgotten.
I glanced to my desk clock. Damn. Milli and her grandson were due to arrive in fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, I doubted Millicent would be so easily pleased, she’s a crotchety old thing. She’d learned to fight tooth and nail to hold her own in the primarily male world of business owners in her era.
But I’d designed a kick-ass marketing campaign for her café, and she’d be a fool not to run with it.
“Are you ready?” Lizzy pushed to her feet, her red Manolo Blahniks touching to the floor, her hands swiftly smoothing out her dress. The dress was black, with red hibiscus flowers and snappy white accents.
“Yes. Let me just close these files, and pull up the files for Millicent’s.”
She placed both hands on my desk and leaned toward me, the speculating look returning. “What’s going on with you, Beth?”
I gathered my laptop and sample prints.
“You’re a little scattered, and you’re flushed and sparkly-eyed. Not your normal organized-to-a-fault self.”
I stepped away from my desk, encouraging Lizzy to follow me to our meeting room. “You offend me, Lizzy. I assure you, all is well. Now, let’s go rock Miss Millicent’s world with our awesome skills.”
Not sure exactly what to tell Lizzy, I’d kept my…um…my, doings with Adam a secret from her—other than that first mind-blowing meeting.
That, I had to share with someone…
Deborah Ann lives in Northern California with her husband and their two children, where or: she has enjoyed a long career in the Beauty Industry.
After years of reading with her children and passing on a love for books, Deborah was inspired to write the Destiny series. What started out in the beginning, as a celebration of a loving, young, innocent friendship, and the affecting separation after a move, spun into a mythical journey of the loving binds of friendship, deep family ties, and an intoxicating fairy tale romance, with the power of love that knows no bounds.
Memory Betrayal followed, with a leap from young adult romance, to adult romance. And while it can be a balancing act at times, Deborah sneaks in as much time as she can to slip into the lives of her characters, and the magical world in which they live…