He studies me for a moment.

  “You said that you usually hire her...” I say.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “For events and such.”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes don’t leave mine.

  “I’ve already told Rain that Andrea accompanied you last year at the Christmas dinner.”

  He looks at me, poker-faced.

  “When I was with David Moore...”

  A frown grows on his brow as I bring back the memory with my words.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he grumps.

  “Seeing you with her would curtail any suspicion about us.”

  My enthusiasm is woven with panic, but my plan makes sense.

  No one will suspect that something is going on between Tiago Rossi and me.

  Not Rain. And not James.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asks puzzled.

  “I’m sure that it would work well. I would probably feel like crap, but it would only be for a couple of hours.”

  “Okay... I’ll call her then.”

  Thick silence wraps around us.

  “There’s nothing like pimping a female escort to the man you love,” I say, smiling bitterly.

  His eyes light up with a soft smile.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine. “Nothing will happen.”

  “It better not to,” I say, forcing myself to smile.

  “No catfights, please. That would blow off my cover.”

  Smiling, he winks at me before he brings his free hand to my face and strokes my jawline with the back of his knuckles.

  Cupping my face gently, he presses his lips against mine.

  “I’ll make it up to you, baby. I promise,” he murmurs against my lips.

  “Can you start now, please?”

  He breathes out a chuckle.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  12

  EVE

  Smoothly, he takes my hand and rises to his feet, prompting me to leave my seat as well.

  He walks me to the bedroom where he flips the switch and lowers the light before he shifts to me and starts unbuttoning my shirt.

  Smoothly, he removes it from my body and lets it drop on a chair. He brushes my hair over my shoulder before he curls his fingers around my neck and snakes his arm around my waist, pressing me into his body.

  “Would this work for you?” he asks, his hand sliding slowly onto my back, cupping my backside and kneading my butt.

  “It actually does...” I murmur.

  A smile quivers across my lips as I feel his full erection through his jeans, pressed against me.

  I bring my hand down between us, tempted to stroke him.

  Faster than me, though, he takes a step back, motioning me to climb into his bed.

  Smiling teasingly, I slide to my knees and look at him.

  Standing in front of me, he brings his fingers to the only button of his jeans and flicks his chin at me.

  “Turn around and lie on your back.”

  I flick my eyebrows up, throwing him a questioning look.

  “Across the mattress, your head toward me,” he says.

  I shift my position and sprawl on my back, my gaze swinging up.

  His hips enter my line of sight, and then his abs and pecs.

  My eyes train on his fly as he slowly runs his fingers up and down on it. He plays with the zipper, yet he doesn’t slide it down before he sets his palms on either side of me on the bed and leans forward.

  His heat rolls onto me as his body hovers over me and his breaths fall on my belly, down my thighs, and on my sex.

  I lift my hands and touch his torso–– his muscles hard as rocks beneath my touch, then let my fingers migrate to his neck before I knead his pecs and stroke him.

  He peels one hand away from the mattress and slides it onto me.

  First, he nudges my thighs open, and then he draws a trail with his fingers from my knees to my sex and back again.

  He does it a few times, every single time my wet arousal trickling even more.

  When he brings me to the point where I begin to squirm, he lowers his mouth all the way, spreads my folds open with the tip of his tongue and licks my clit sending waves of streaming, rippling pleasure through every nerve ending buried in my flesh.

  I arch my back and lift my hips, bringing them closer to his mouth.

  He swirls his tongue a few times, and I’m almost done. He brushes my entrance with his fingers as if he is about to slide them in, and I quiver with desire.

  His open-mouth kisses on my clit make me tilt my head back and drag my hands down to his jeans as I attempt to work his zipper open.

  I find it difficult, feeling my way around it when he brings his fingers to his jeans, opens the button, and slowly slides the zipper down.

  His hard cock pulls free from his jeans, stirring above my mouth. I cuff his girth with both hands, relishing the throbbing pulse against my palms.

  He sucks on my flesh, and my hips buck again while my lips touch the tip of his cock.

  “Make it wet,” he breathes against my clit while I run my hands on him.

  He’s too far from me to reach him and sheathe him completely with my mouth, so I lick my palms and fingers and spread the moisture along his hard length.

  He twitches as I’m doing it, his hard flesh jutting in the air pointing to my mouth.

  He shifts his position slightly as he brings his mouth lower–– below my folds and starts licking the sleek wet entrance.

  “Tiago...” I groan as I tighten my grip on him.

  I’m in the perfect spot to lick his balls, it dawns on me as I start doing it.

  He hardens even more as I sweep his flesh with my tongue.

  “Don’t stop,” he says when my hands break the rhythm for a moment.

  I resume the cadence, milking him with both hands while my lips and tongue stroke him just the way he likes it.

  I’m so close to coming when he pushes up and leaves me hanging.

  My hips roll in desperation, my hands clawing at his hips.

  He’s out of my reach now, and I begin to roll to my side and open my mouth to protest when he comes closer to me again.

  “Don’t move,” he says, his gaze hazy, his lips full and glistening and tempting.

  My back hits the mattress again before he drags my shoulders closer to the edge of the bed, my head tilted back to a perfect angle... I feel the smooth tip of his erection against my lips, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth, nudging it open before he pushes himself deep into my mouth.

  He thrusts in slowly, the hard length of his erection sliding against my tongue before my mouth closes around him and he’s lodged deep into my throat.

  He moves, and a swarm of tingles spins between my legs.

  He does it again, and I tense up.

  He keeps doing it, and I clench my thighs–– so wet between my legs.

  He rocks his hips, and I begin to moan, bringing my hand to my clit.

  “Not now,” he says. “I’ll tell you...”

  I bring my hands back to his jeans-clad thighs.

  He goes deep. Deeper than I could’ve imagined that I’d take a man. I control my gag reflex, which is new to me as I have him lodged into my throat. He moves, and my body shudders as if electric currents sweep through me.

  My nails dig deep into his thighs as he wraps one hand around my neck, feeling the movement of his hardness into my throat.

  He runs his hand on my neck as if he strokes his erection, our eyes locked at this point. We’re both drunk on this, and high.

  There’s something primal in his eyes that only makes my pleasure surge.

  Another roll of hips brings me his heat and the scent of his arousal.

  His hand stays wrapped around my neck as he picks up the pace and presses his thumb against the root of my neck.

  For a moment, I fear that he could cut my air supply, but my worry withers away when the sensation building in my body morphs into a wild ride that is about to break through me.

  With every thrust, I scale up more, and cannot stop him.

  He leans forward one last time, reaching between my legs and sliding his fingers into me, curling them into a pool of wetness when a crying moan breaks free from my chest.

  “Now,” he says, straightening his back.

  My hand goes where his fingers were as he straightens and rocks his hips, resuming the back and forth motion, picking up the pace while he makes sure that he doesn’t hurt me.

  To me, that’s the end of it.

  For a few good moments, I have no idea where I am as a twister of pulsations rams through me, his throbbing reaching climaxing heights.

  He comes seconds after I drown into that heart-grabbing, mind-blowing pleasure, seeing nothing but sparkling, white light.

  EVE

  “Red?” I ask.

  He creases his nose.

  “Blue then?” I ask, holding the other hanger high.

  He gives me a smile but no response.

  “You’re not helping me, baby,” I say.

  I can’t help but grin.

  “I’m not here to help you,” he shoots at me as he wraps his arm around my waist.

  He breathes softly on my lips, his hand riding up my skirt, his fingers sliding inside my stockings and rubbing me through my sheer panties.

  The image of us locked and tangled flashes at me from the mirrors lining the walls of the high-end store fitting room.

  I’m wrapped in his arms, his hand down my panties, while I hold the two dresses dangling from the hangers.

  As if I’m not wet enough against his fingers, he tilts his head down and licks my neck, turning me on even more.

  My eyes stay on the mirror as I thread my fingers through his dark hair and press myself against him.

  “Are you planning on making me come here?” I ask incredulously.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Discreetly, he touches himself and adjusts his erection through his dark suit pants.

  “We might get caught.”

  “And that makes it worthwhile.”

  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” I say, carried away by the pleasurable sensation.

  “I’m good that way,” he says.

  I laugh softly and let the dresses drop on a nearby chair as he pushes his fingers into me.

  “People are waiting outside,” I murmur, smiling and brushing his neck with my lips.

  “I doubt. There are plenty of changing rooms,” he murmurs, slowly moving his fingers–– making me pulse against his touch.

  I hold onto him, my arms looped around his neck, my eyes rooted to the mirror as I watch him stroking me.

  “I’m not so sure I can come. Someone could walk in on us,” I argue.

  He brings his lips to my cheek, locks my eyes in the mirror, and purrs against my skin.

  “Stop thinking about it. Just do it.”

  A smile is my answer as I slacken against his touch, my knees barely holding me.

  He kisses me softly, messing with me, even more, when he senses the tension in my grip and my nails digging into his shoulders, and then he bites my lip, and plunges his tongue into my mouth, tipping me over the edge in a split second.

  My pulse explodes, my breaths clipped and shallowed when we hear a voice coming from outside the door.

  “Do you need a different size?” the woman asks.

  My skirt falls back in place as he tears his hand away from me.

  The sales clerk knocks on the door.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yes. Sure,” I blurt, heaving as if I just sprinted.

  Swiftly, I turn around and pick the dresses from the chair, pretending that I check the tags and trying to catch my breath.

  Tiago takes a step back, adjusts his erection and slides into a chair, a different expression rolling on his face as the door cracks open and the woman walks in.

  Her eyes meet mine.

  “Have you decided on the color?” she asks.

  Her voice is friendly, her smile, too, but my focus is completely lost, so I gape at her, unable to gather my thoughts.

  She swings her gaze to Tiago.

  “I think we should get both of them,” he says evenly, calm and composed.

  He’s so much better than me at this.

  “Sounds great.”

  She turns to me.

  “What do you think, Miss?”

  Tiago flicks his eyebrows at me.

  “Yeah, sure. You can pack them both.”

  “Perfect,” she says as she picks the two cocktail dresses and heads to the door.

  She barely walks out of the room when Tiago whips his gaze at me.

  “Lingerie?”

  I stall, hesitant.

  “No?” he continues, a teasing grin glinting across his lips.

  Amused, I flick my finger up.

  “Right.”

  I rush out of the fitting room to catch up with the woman.

  “Excuse me?”

  She turns around.

  “I would like a few lingerie sets as well.”

  “What would you be interested in?”

  I make a few suggestions before the woman pulls away, and a male voice rings out behind me.

  “Eve Malone?”

  A soft shudder falls through me as I recognize the man’s voice.

  “David?” I say, spinning to him while expressing my surprise.

  “What are you doing here?” I breathe out, washed with panic.

  My eyes connect with his before they swing to the handsome stranger accompanying him.

  A tall, athletic dark-haired man studies me with curious eyes.

  “You and your, um... friend?” I mutter, my voice a mishmash of angst and disbelief.

  What are the odds?

  My eyes fly to the fitting room where Tiago waits for me, a bad feeling growing in me.

  This is the second time in twenty-four hours when Tiago and I run into some crazy situation that threatens to reveal our secret.

  And the day is not even over yet.

  David Moore makes the introductions.

  “Ashton Blackmore. Eve Malone.”

  The stranger flashes a sexy smile as he takes my hand and squeezes it gently.

  “Nice to meet you...” I say, my voice trailing off when I notice Tiago’s shoulders looming in the entryway.

  Paced, he walks out of the fitting room. His eyes fill with surprise when he lays his eyes on us. Luckily, the two men face me and can’t see him.

  Tiago locks my eyes briefly before he gets a glimpse of David, gets the hint, turns around, and strides away.

  It’s a swift maneuver that I’m hoping goes unnoticed when David registers the direction of my gaze and spots Tiago.

  “Tiago Rossi,” he calls out, forcing Tiago to turn around and face all of us.

  His eyes sweep my face with the same unwavering indifference with which he checks theirs.

  “Oh, David Moore, right?” he says, leisurely swaggering to us, relaxed and smiling.

  He turns a dull gaze to me.

  “And, um... Your girlfriend, right?” he mutters, looking at David before he shifts his gaze to me, not a muscle twitching on his face, not the slightest clue to tip them off.

  “Ava? Eva?”

  “Eve,” I say in a cold voice, barely concealing my nerves. “Eve Malone. And we are only friends.”

  “Right,” he says, smiling affably while not giving much consideration to my words. “I’m sorry. I’m not good with names,” he continues.

  The last few words were addressed to me yet his focus has already shifted to the two men who silently observe him.

  David Moore makes the introductions again while I look at them in silence.

  “Blackmore as in the luxury hotel chain?” Tiago asks.

  “Yes,” the dark-haired stranger says.

  “What brings you to New York?”

  “Business,” Ashton says.

  “And James’ dinner,” David adds.

  “Hmmm... I’m glad to hear that,” Tiago mutters just as the sales clerk approaches me with a pile of sexy lingerie in her arms.

  “Would you like me to take them to a fitting room, Miss?” the woman asks, the men’s eyes slanting to the lacy garter sets.

  Red, black, cobalt blue and pink.

  “Yes, sure,” I say hastily before I whip my gaze to her.

  Smoothly, she nods and pulls away.

  They all lift their eyes at the same time.

  Tiago raises an eyebrow and bites his bottom lip, barely crushing a smile before he pats David on his shoulder.

  “It looks like someone’s in luck tonight,” he says, winking at David, who takes his words with a straight face.

  “I guess, I’ll see you all at James’ tonight,” I say, eager to interrupt Tiago’s acting performance, excuse myself and vanish into the fitting room.

  I turn to Ashton.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you,” I say.

  He nods softly.

  “Same here.”

  I pivot slightly.

  “David... It was nice seeing you again.”

  He flashes a charming smile just as Tiago turns to me.

  “James’ brother,” I say, a dash of irony slipping into my voice.

  To everybody's surprise, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips.

  He places a soft kiss on the back of my knuckles.

  “David’s girlfriend,” he tosses back at me, amused.

  I free my hand from his grip.

  “Say ‘hi’ to Andrea for me.”

  “I will. You’ll have the pleasure to see her again tonight,” he says.

  “Can’t wait.”

  David catches me roll my eyes.

  “There’s no love lost between you two,” David comments, smiling.

  Ashton registers the exchange of teasing remarks, unfazed.

  I wave them goodbye before I spin around and walk into the fitting room. A sigh leaves my chest when I collapse into a chair.

  I bury my face in my hands and shake my head for a few good moments, not knowing whether I should laugh or cry.

  Again, what are the odds for this to happen?

  Things have really spun out of control these last two days.

  It all started on Thursday night with our date–– the time I spent with him was one of the best I’ve ever had. And then yesterday, at work, when I hopped onto a different rollercoaster. And last night, the surprise James and Rain have pulled on us.