Provocation SAMPLE (Book 3 of The Conquest Series)

Chapter Four

Jason’s place was a small condominium in a gated community. He’d said he was in the tech business. Around here, it wouldn’t surprise her, but she doubted he was telling the truth anyway. Or that his name was Jason. It might have been Gerard or Cruz, or even something ridiculous like Maximus, but after tonight, it wouldn’t really matter.

Leila tossed her light jacket onto his leather couch and leaned over, taking in the room. It was filled with newer furniture and electronics, the TV attached to the wall by whatever gadgetry they made these days that kept it from falling to the floor.

“You’re not from around here and you’re new to the area,” she told—not asked—him.

“How could you tell?” he questioned, his front pressing up against her ass as she leaned forward on the back of the couch.

“All your stuff appears to be new,” she remarked. “It was a guess, but many folks around here just tote whatever worldly goods around with them when they move. So, I assume you come from rather far away.”

“Florida,” he told her as his hand pressed against her inner thigh and rubbed a circle there.

“Tampa?” His hand slid around to palm the curve of her ass.

“Ft. Lauderdale,” he rasped into her ear before nipping at it.

A soft moan spilled past Leila’s lips, and she arched her back against him, her ass grinding into his pelvis and leaving ample space between the bow of her back and his chest.

“Something gives me the idea that I might like living on the west coast,” he murmured as he pulled her body to his so that she was flush against his chest.

“You’re Italian,” she pondered as he twirled her around and cupped her face, forcing her to look up at him.

“How did you know?” He didn’t sound like he cared. His breathing was too heavy and his eyes too dark to be thinking of anything but laying with this woman.

“Lucky guess,” she said as his hand came down to her throat, clutching at it as his mouth moved over hers.

“You should play Russian roulette at the casinos,” he told her before taking her mouth with his. “You’d clean the place out.”

“My only gambles are my own to bear,” she remarked, knowing he wouldn’t understand what she was saying.

He went to reply, and her hand came up to stop his words. “Hush. Small talk is for idiots and pillow talk is for fools. We are neither one of those.”

Oh, but he could be a fool. A fool for her possibly.

It was true he had gone to the bar with the sole purpose of getting his d**k wet, but there was something about this woman that undid him, made him wish he was capable of more. He did want more. Eventually. Someday. Just not now. But Leila made him think it was entirely possible to be more. At least with her.

But that was not what Leila wanted. She wanted a good f**k, a roll in the hay, to get her p***y pounded until she screamed this man’s fake name.

Only it wasn’t fake. Jason had been telling the truth. She had almost shocked it out of him with her surprising display of intuition.

“Take off your f*****g shirt before I rip it off,” she ordered him, pulling him out of his thoughts. They had wandered for a bit, always the focus on more.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed with a grin.

Making quick work of his buttons, Leila took over and shoved the shirt off him before blazing a trail up his pecs with her fingers.

Though of Italian heritage, the hair on his chest was sparse, centering on the skin over his diaphragm and down the middle of his abs before disappearing into the top of his khakis.

Her finger traced down to brush along the trail of hair below his navel and onto the tented material over his bulge. His very prominent bulge. Sliding her hand down, she cupped his balls through his pants before squeezing the thick length of his c**k tightly.

“s**t,” he muttered as she stroked him over and over again. The roughness of his zipper added just the right amount of pressure to have his d**k throbbing.

“Now strip me.” Her voice was a sultry buzz in his head as the sparks flew behind his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes.

And damn, nothing was sexier than a woman who knew what she wanted and just how to get it.

Leila was a dominant creature in bed. She couldn’t help it. She knew what it took to get her off, and she wasn’t afraid to let it be known.

Jason pulled at the hem of her peasant blouse, clumsy and all thumbs it seemed. But it was only what Leila was doing with her hands that had him so cloddish in his attempt at divesting her of the thin material. She squeezed and stroked him with just the right amount of pressure, almost causing him to make a mess in his boxers.

“s**t, baby,” he rumbled as he tossed her blouse aside and saw the silk demi-cups encasing her breasts. She was probably a C, maybe a large B, but they were perfection. He could almost see the rosy color of her n*****s in his mind’s eye and wanted nothing more than to suck them into his mouth and hear her moan for him.

“I need you in the bedroom. Now,” he told her. He turned her around and pulled her up by her ass so that she was forced to latch onto his hips by snaking her legs around his midsection.

Gasping at the sudden movement, Leila grabbed onto Jason’s shoulders as he walked them quickly towards the back of the condo, one destination in mind.

After being tossed onto the bed, Leila’s breath whooshed out of her chest before he was on top of her. His hands pushed up the cups of her bra, and he sucked the top swells of her t**s into his mouth, leaving a large bruise on her tender skin.

With one hand, he reached around to unclasp her bra and then pulled the irritating contraption from her chest before placing his mouth over one stony tip and sucking at it hungrily.

Jason hummed around her n****e, sending a delicious vibration tingling throughout her body. “Damn—the Beach Boys were right.”

“What?” Leila’s eyes blinked open at the odd comment.

“I wish they all could be California girls,” he recited to her and ducked down to suck in the other n****e, biting as he pulled it into his mouth.

Leila gave a short laugh before it melted into a moan as his lips closed over her breast, adding to the pleasurable feeling coursing throughout her core. Cupping the soft underside of her breasts, he kissed a moist line down her stomach before coming to the elastic band of her skirt. With no hesitation, he pulled it down her body and was met with a small scrap of fabric only large enough to cover her shaven p***y.

Jason tugged on the elastic of her panties, arching a brow at the insignificant fabric. “Why even bother wearing these at all?” he asked, his voice low and desire-laden. “They’re practically non-existent.”

“Another layer to strip. Good things come to those who wait,” she teased with a smile. “Now enough talk. Are you going to take them off with your teeth or do you need some help?”

“I’m on it,” he assured her as he started to peel the panties down her hips, his hands sliding over smooth flesh before he dragged them off around her ankles.

Undoing his belt, he shoved his pants to the ground and stepped out of the puddle on the floor. His boxers soon followed, and Leila was met with a stiff, jutting appendage that was nearly twice the size of her last “date”.

“Good Lord,” she murmured, earning a raised brow from the man whose d**k was pointing straight at her.           

Without replying, Jason climbed onto the bed and parted Leila’s knees with his thick thighs before pushing her back onto the bed.

“Condom,” she warned before he could get too close. Her hand came up to his pecs, feeling his chest expand as the firm muscles took in heavy bouts of oxygen.

Without looking away, Jason bent over to the night table and opened a small drawer. It was filled with condoms. Filled.

Leila smirked as she looked over to the assortment of rubbers in the drawer. “You’re either a very lucky guy who needs to keep himself well-stocked, or the unluckiest one and I should check the expiration date on the packet,” she told him.

Sheathing himself in latex, Jason looked down at her before smiling. “I can guarantee you that I’ve never had to toss a condom because it’s expiration date has passed,” he stated before laying himself over top of her.

“Good,” she said just before his mouth came down on hers in a searing, hot kiss.

>>

“Yes!”

Leila was on top of Jason, riding him as his hands gripped her hips, guiding her up and down on him. As she bounced on his d**k, his hand came down to stroke her clit, rubbing it vigorously as he tried to get her to go even faster on top of him.

“f**k!” Leila called out as her p***y spasmed around him, pulling a groan from the man beneath her as he felt the soft flutters of her s*x massaging him.

His hand slipped from her clit and gripped her hips tighter before thrusting upward to take over the rhythm. His knees bent further, causing his d**k to assault her g-spot with more definitive force.

“God, yes,” she called out, hoping his neighbors weren’t light sleepers or that the walls weren’t as thin as paper like in some condos.

“Yeah, ride that d**k, baby,” Jason groaned.

But all Leila heard was w***e when he spoke.

Whore.

Her rhythm faltered as her eyes blinked open, startled.

Where did that come from?

Pressing her hands onto his chest more firmly, she tried to gain rhythm again until Jason got impatient and pulled her down to his chest, not allowing her to move as he continued to f**k her.

“f**k, yes,” he rasped into her ear. “Squeeze that c**k good with that nice, tight p***y. Aw, s**t!”

He gave a particularly hard thrust, and Leila almost floundered, his d**k popping out of her almost completely before she was being slammed back down onto his formidable length.

Crying out, she felt herself tighten around him, her abdomen rigid with another building orgasm. It wasn’t that she was so easily aroused that she came on command, but this man’s d**k was like the yellow brick road to The Wizard of O’s.

“Fuck...I’m gonna come,” she whimpered just as her orgasm took hold of her, slamming through her body like a lit match to a truck tanker full of gasoline.

“Oh...fuck, yes,” Jason groaned out as he felt her spasm around his length, nearly choking his d**k with its tight hold.

Flipping her onto her back before she could come down from the hazy heights of her climax, Jason continued to snap his hips into hers. It was a back and forth, to and fro power play for control. They were both dominance personified in the bedroom, though they somehow made it work without tearing each other’s heads off.

“Take this d**k,” Jason commanded and laid a harsh crack to her ass.

Leila cried out and whimpered. His hand was a little heavier than she liked it, though she wasn’t usually averse to spankings.

Take this d**k, you w***e.

She heard it in Nate’s voice, though, as if he was right in the room there with her, taunting her. It made her want to weep. The tone was accusing, not sexy.

And it was ruining her f*****g night.

Jason f****d another orgasm out of her, and she cried out, tears pooling in her eyes from the suddenness of her release before he flipped her over onto her front so he could take her from behind.

She needed to wrest control from him. Again.

“No,” she whimpered out. It was a plea. She didn’t like to be taken this way. A man held too much power over her this way, and it made her feel small, vulnerable.

“Yes,” he commanded as he stabbed her quickly with his length and started to slam into her as if she hadn’t just come down from another mind-blowing orgasm.

Fucking you doggy-style like the b***h in heat you are.

That voice. She couldn’t get it out of her head, and she truly started to weep, though Jason thought it was from pleasure, not from an emotional pain he had no idea she felt.

The hard sounds of skin against skin smacking were suddenly all she could hear until Nate’s voice intruded again just as Jason opened his mouth.

“f**k, baby. Who owns this p***y?”

Whore. w***e, w***e, w***e, w***e.

Me. I own my own p***y, you asshole. Assholes. Whichever.

“Who owns it, b***h?”

Slam.

Whore.

Leila called out, internally cursing her libidinous nature as she felt herself tighten around the man again. For the fourth time in a row. And as her final climax met with Jason’s, she screamed out once more, a garbled version of, Me. Me, you asshole.

She was sure he didn’t hear it, just as he couldn’t hear what the other voice in her head was saying to her.

Fucker probably tore the condom he rode you so hard. Another STD test and Plan B for you, Leila.

Fuck you, you bastard…

>>

Leila left the condo feeling almost relieved. The man had been rough, though she usually liked it that way.

She couldn’t remember where she parked her car, though she supposed it was probably in the guest parking lot. She remembered as much from the ride over. Jason apparently lived within walking distance to the pub she had gone to that night, so they had ridden in her car to the condominium.

Hitting the remote with one hand, she heard a beep and saw a flash of amber light to her right.

Following the sound, she almost cried when she saw her sedan. Little dependable four-wheeled chariot to bring her home to...

Nothing. An empty second floor apartment with an equally empty apartment downstairs. She would really have to take care of that soon. The end of the month was coming too quickly.

Walking into her lonely home that night, Leila did something she rarely did. She drank. And she drank, and she drank. She rarely did so alone and at home. She was a social butterfly, though you would think that was synonymous for floozy with the way Nate had talked about her.

She was on her fourth shot of vodka when she stumbled into her room, stripping herself of her clothing and tossing them unceremoniously onto the floor. She should burn them. She felt they shamed her with the stench of her one-night stand.

Her cell phone was flickering, and she saw that she had a few texts and a voicemail. Seeing the latter was from her mother, she listened as her mom sobbed over the phone, nearly unintelligible.

Seeing as how she couldn’t just drive over to her mother’s house in her state, she called her cell phone and heard her mother’s warbling voice answer the line.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

Hearing a sniffle, Leila’s heart broke off a piece for her mom. This probably had all to do with the cad that was her father.

“I need to leave him,” her mom’s voice croaked.

Finally.

“Then do it,” she gently urged her mother, releasing a breath in exasperated relief.

“I...I can’t,” Mom said. “I still love him.”

Leila snorted before speaking. “You act like love is a cure-all for him being a d**k,” she stated. “Love isn’t going to force him to be faithful any more than it’s going to keep you from getting hurt.”

In fact, it hurts even worse.

Pushing the thought aside, she listened as her mother sobbed, and Leila made a deal with herself. She was going to talk to her father. Soon. Real soon.

After all, Leila made enough to hire a private investigator and lawyer for her mom and take the man for every penny he f*****g had.

>>

“Who’s she?”

Nate looked over and saw Leila at the bar. Of f*****g course. She was smiling at another gentleman as they both headed in the direction of Nate’s booth. Nate was spending time with an old college acquaintance of his that was in town for business. The two had decided to head out for drinks to catch up.

“My sister’s best friend,” Nate said, his tone bitter. “Trust me, you don’t want to get involved. She goes through men like Kleenex.”

“Well she can certainly blow me,” Russ commented under his breath.

Russell Crane could have been the female equivalent of Leila, as far as Nate was concerned. He was just better company than the prickly b***h who was walking his way.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Russ greeted as soon as he stood up from his seat. “Care to join us?”

Nate groaned audibly, and Leila looked down at him, frowning. She had been trying to pass by him so she could spend some time with her friend Jared, but since Nate was being such a prick, she decided to stay. Just to be petty.

“Sure, I’d love to,” she agreed, looking pointedly at Nate. “Besides, it’s been a while since I caught up with my good buddy Nate here.”

“Outstanding,” Russ said as he grinned.

Leila took a seat next to Russ while Jared sat down on Nate’s side. Just because she wanted to sit there just to irritate the man, it didn’t mean she should have to suffer his company too closely. She’d rather stick a pinecone up her ass and try to s**t it out again.

“I’m Leila,” she told Russ, sticking out a hand to him.

“Russ. Russell Crane,” he introduced himself, holding onto her hand longer than absolutely necessary.

“Who’s your flavor of the evening, Lei?” Nate ground out as he nodded to Jared. “I thought you just picked up men and took them home, not have a leisurely drink with them first.”

Leila blinked at him. So, that’s how it was going to be.

“This flavor is my friend and personal assistant, Jared,” Leila informed him, her face an emotionless mask.

“Pleasure, doll.” Jared affected an even more effeminate tone of voice, and Nate blinked before a tinge of pink sprung onto his cheeks in embarrassment.

Nate grasped Jared’s hand for a brief moment before letting it go, seemingly subdued for the moment.

“So, sweetheart…” Russ turned back to Leila after taking in the interaction between Nate and Jared. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an architect,” she told him. “I own my own company in San Leandro.”

“A woman like you must love being her own boss,” he remarked.

“Yes, it certainly has its advantages,” she tossed back, affecting a flirtatious smile.

Nate was at a disadvantage for a while, though he did speak with Jared for a bit about what he did for Leila.

“Now she has me dealing with her Craigslist postings,” Jared replied, affecting a long-suffering air.

“Really? I didn’t know Craigslist still had whores placing ads after those unfortunate incidents on Long Island,” Nate quipped, the words slipping out automatically before he winced internally.

He saw Leila’s face pinch tight, and he could’ve sworn her eyes got a little glassy before she excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think that was a bit unnecessary,” Jared smarted at him. He loved Leila as a friend and was immediately irritated by Nate’s words.

“Yeah…fuck, I’m sorry,” Nate said, sighing. “We just...we have a combative history. Not physical. The words slip out before I can stop them, I guess.”

“Well, you shouldn’t apologize to me, dearie.” Jared pushed the words out of his mouth forcefully, his gaze steely on Nate’s face. “You should apologize to the person you keep demeaning every time you seem to be in the same zip code.”

Leila didn’t come back to the table and texted Jared that she wasn’t feeling well, though she was sure Jared knew the truth. She couldn’t go back out there and had slipped out the back entrance before making her way back to her car.

“This is my number,” Russ said as he pushed a napkin toward Jared. “It’s for Leila. Tell her to call me when she’s feeling better. And I apologize for my friend here. He doesn’t think before he speaks. Ever, it seems.”

Russ may have been a manwhore, but he was at least gentlemanly.

Jared thanked him and glanced over at Nate disapprovingly before plunking down some money on the table to cover his and Leila’s last couple of drinks and a generous tip.

“What the f**k is your problem?” Russ growled at Nate after Jared left the bar.

“Nothing,” Nate murmured. “I said I was sorry.”

“To the wrong person.”

Nate just shrugged. “Not my fault she left before I could apologize properly. That chick brings out the worst in me,” he admitted.

After a minute of silence between the two friends, Russ broke it with a single word. “Nate.”

“What?”

“Look at me.”

Nate leveled his gaze at Russ, who was frowning back at him.

“You have feelings for her,” his friend told him.

“f**k no!”

“Liar.”

“I’ll admit I had a crush on her when we were young, but I’m definitely over that who—girl now,” Nate claimed.

“No,” Russ rebuffed. “You had a crush, but you still have feelings for her. Why else would you care who she slept with? Or how often?”

Nate had no answer for that and looked out the tinted window next to him. He could swear he saw two people hugging, one with fiery red hair that resembled Leila’s in length and hue.

“If you truly thought I had feelings for her, you wouldn’t have given her your number by proxy,” Nate finally gritted out as he watched the two people eventually leave in a car. It didn’t look like Leila’s, but it could have been Jared’s.

Russ shrugged and crumpled up a loose napkin from the table. “Not my f*****g fault if you don’t go for it,” he commented lightly. “I’m here for a week. You’re here for life. Want me to let you know how she is in bed? Sort of a test drive of her so I can tell you what you’re missing out on?”

“Remind me why I’m friends with you again,” Nate grumbled, closing his eyes.

“The p***y,” Russ said loudly. “I attract tons of it and I’m more than happy to send my sloppy seconds to you.”

“f**k you, Russ.”