CHAPTER ONE
It was getting late, but Dan Klein ordered another whiskey anyway and the bartender placed the drink in front of him before shouting "last call" to the other patrons. He took a sip then set it back down on the bar allowing the heat of the liquor to soothe him. The thirty five year old ad executive wasn't used to being stood up. He was handsome in a classical way that old Hollywood portrayed men like Cary Grant and Gary Cooper.
He was fit with dark brown hair and a boyish charm that he used to his advantage. He always dressed for the part of success. Tailored suits, Italian shoes, and cologne that oozed the primal pheromone instincts that women adored. Women did adore him and he didn't lack for female companionship so much so that when he tired of one, there was always another beauty waiting in the wings to take her place.
Needless to say he always got his way. That's how he made it to the top of Emerson's Advertising Agency having made his first million with two years of signing on to the elite company as junior executive much to the chagrin of other more seasoned executives. Never give up and persist until you get what you want. That was his motto and it had never failed him, but now he had been sitting for hours at Jersey Joe's Bar and still she hadn't showed up.
He sighed deeply afraid that once again he had been stood up by the most luscious auburn haired creature and smartest of woman who knew her worth than he had ever met before. So entranced with her that he couldn't get her out of his head even though she had done everything in her power to discourage him, he still couldn't and wouldn't let go of his pursuit.
He had met her at the annual Christmas Party that Emerson's gave every year. It was held at the Biltmore Hotel and no expense was spared to entertain colleagues as well as prospective clients. He had arrived early working the room as was his custom feeling out new avenues to ply his trade and flirting with the prospective client's wife or girlfriend by paying compliments to each whether they deserved it or not. It didn't matter. He was using any avenue he could to seal the deal and if it meant telling an aging old bag of a woman that she looked stunning and much younger than her years, so be it. If he got the account, all it had cost him was a stroking of an ego that had long since seen its prime. Yet during his discussion with one of those older women, he was stopped abruptly when a woman about his own age entered the room unescorted and stood at the top of landing of the foyer as if she were a queen surveying her court.
She was stunning in her long strapless black silk dress that clung to her body as if it were a second skin. Her long wavy auburn hair swept to one side fell over shoulders and cascaded down her back. Her face was soft with deep green eyes that were sharp and clear and she wore just enough makeup to accentuate her beauty instead of the other way around. She stood majestically owning the space she walked and Dan had all he could do to keep himself from staring at her like a school boy who had a crush on the new teacher.
Emerson, the owner of the ad agency personally greeted her and escorted her around the room introducing her to everyone where she smiled and nodded graciously in an appropriate manner. When Emerson introduced her to Dan as Mercella Darrow the founder and CEO of Shangrila Perfumes, she didn't waiver from her calm demeanor nor did she giggle or flirt with him. It was if he didn't exist yet when he went to speak, he found his words tumbled over the other as he tried to say something that was both witty and intelligent. She smiled saying that everyone called her Mercy and then walked away leaving him to ponder what was wrong with him.
He followed her with his eyes all evening hoping to catch her watching him, but she didn't. She spoke with other men that evening which he found surprisingly annoying, had a glass of wine that she sipped slowly as she made her way around the room, and nibbled on a few appetizers that were offered on silver trays by servers. Then as if she had completed what she came to do, she left alone.
Dan followed her to the parking lot noticing that the valet brought her a black Lexus and held the door open while she climbed into the driver's side. He immediately got into his own car allowing her enough of a start so that she wouldn't think that he was following her. She drove for several miles back towards town then made an abrupt turn to the left ending up at a place called Diggy's Lounge according the neon sign that hung above the door. There she parked her car and walked into the somewhat seedy lounge still unescorted. Allowing a few minutes to pass, Dan finally parked his car and entered Diggy's where he found her sitting at the bar with a glass of white wine in her hands. Unabashedly he sat on the stool next to her and ordered a beer.
"So why are you following me?" Mercy asked without looking at him.
"I was just on my way home and thought I'd stop for a drink," Dan answered as coolly as he could muster.
"You lie," she said running her finger over the rim of her wine glass. "I don't like liars."
Dan took a gulp of his beer noticing that her black dress had a slit up the side showing off her perfectly formed long legs. She wasn't making any of this easy for him forcing him to shift in his seat to accommodate his growing shaft.
"I'm not lying. I'm on my way home and stopped for a drink. Why are you here?" he asked.
"That's simple. I wanted to find out why you were following me," she said looking at him squarely in the eyes.
Dan met her gaze feeling like he could drown in those pools of sparkling emeralds that were her eyes. He smiled at her to break the tension, but she remained focused on his face as if studying him like a specimen she had never seen before.
"Are you trying to get me to go with your ad agency?" she asked.
Dan pursed his lips. Was she blind at his attempt to show his interest?
"It would be nice, but that wasn't what I was thinking," he said coyly.
Mercy crossed her legs and swung her foot at him, "So you were hoping to have sex with me," she said flatly.
Dan grabbed his beer with both hands and focused on the glass, "I can't say that it didn't cross my mind." Was he that obvious?
"Hmmm," Mercy mumbled. "I'm not sure you're my type."
Dan sat stunned. Her words sounded familiar, because they were the same words he had used on women who he didn't think were good enough for him. They bitterly stung.
"You don't even know me," he counteracted.
"And you don't know me, but you want to have sex with me. How ironic," Mercy said sipping her wine again.
Check to checkmate. In the little game of chess they were playing, she was winning and Dan didn't like losing. He watched her as she uncrossed her legs then crossed them again showing a glimpse of her crotch. She wasn't wearing panties and he felt his shaft jump.
"So what would you like to know about me?" he asked trying to regain his composure.
Mercy turned towards him and eyed him up and down, "I've already figured you out."
Dan's face grew red. He gulped the last of his beer, threw some money on the table, and rose to leave.
"Have I touched a nerve?" she said casting him a glance that said she didn't care if she had.
"I'm not into playing games," he growled.
"Hmmm that's not what I've heard."
He bristled again. She had made her point.
"Well, I'll see you next week at the meeting. I have an appointment with Emerson himself. I'm sure he'll allow his protégé to attend as well."
He had just made junior partner and was not anyone's protégé.
"Until then," he said nodding to her and left.
CHAPTER TWO
Dan opened the door to his condominium and slammed it shut not considering the hour of night or the fact that his neighbors were asleep. He threw his suit jacket on the arm of the sofa and nearly ripped the tie from around his neck. Mercy Darrow infuriated him. She was gorgeous, a femme fatale, a dangerous woman, and he had made up his mind to hate her, but the hardening of his shaft told him otherwise.
Frustrated, he removed his shirt, tossed it also on the sofa then kicked his shoes to the side of the wall hearing them clunk against the sideboard. He undid his pants and pulled them down exposing the bulge that still lingered in his briefs. Damn, he hated her as he stepped out of them leaving them on the floor. Now standing in his briefs and socks he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, popped the cap off and took a long swig of the cold brew. She didn't have the right to make him feel this way. It just wasn't right he mumbled as he made his way to the bedroom.
The moon cast a blue white glow across the bed as he lay on his back with his hand inside his briefs stroking his shaft. His hands gripping it firmly as he did. He could still see her face, the depth of her eyes and the luscious lips that he had wanted to kiss so badly that it hurt and the way her hair fell across her cheek when she gave him a crooked smile was a mix of sexy and imp. She didn't even flinch with emotion as he flashed a smile at her showing his dimples and a grin that made women melt at his feet.
His ass cheeks tightened as he gripped his shaft pumping it up and down as he thought of her voluptuous breasts heaving when she sipped her wine, or looked at him, or breathed. God, how he wanted to bury his face in those mounds and lick the tight taut nipples inhaling her essence as he did. How dare she do that to him as his balls hardened and filled and drops of precum oozed to the head and slid down the side of it. He could still smell her perfume, spicy, heady, and just like her. His legs tightened and he gave a low growl as he felt himself nearing his climax. And her ass. He loved that ass from the moment he saw her walking away from him at the party. He wanted nothing more than to lean her over the sofa and plow his shaft into her plummeting deep making her squeal with desire for him.
Yes, that was what he wanted to do as he writhed on the bed, his teeth clenched, his hand stroking his shaft so fast that beads of sweat formed on his brow. He wanted her to beg for him to enter her and fill her with his hot cum then beg for him to take her over and over again. Dan could feel the cum in his shaft shoot forward and erupt from the head of his cock spewing onto his chest. One long stream of white hot cum followed by two short spasms and he collapsed back onto the pillow. Yes, he would show her what he was all about.
CHAPTER THREE
The meeting between Shangrila Perfumes and Emerson Advertising was at 10am and Dan was part of the team that would be pitching their ideas to Mercella Darrow, two other women who were her associates, but paled in comparison to intelligence and looks who sat on either side of her at a long hardwood table fitted with leather chairs. Dan sat directly opposite of Mercy who was stunning in a rich brown suit tailored to fit, heels that would make anyone amazed at how she could walk in them, and yes the hint of that perfume that drove him to sit uncomfortably in his chair once again. She glanced across the room, gave a nod to his existence and began to listen to the well-polished prepared speech of Emerson's best ad men. An hour later, when the presentation was complete, a volley of questions were tossed and answered, pamphlets of the project distributed to all, and the meeting was over.
Dan met her at the door of the conference room and held it for her as she passed through.
"It's nice to see you again Mercy," he said.
"I'm sure it is," she answered as she walked by him, but he wasn't deterred.
"What do you think of our proposal?" he asked keeping up with her as her team made its way to the elevator.
"I can't say right now, but we'll get back to you on it," she answered while the two women of her team giggled behind them.
