(Book One, The Park Avenue Trilogy)
by Gray Dixon
All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-apartment18b-1955957-147.html
Unlock unimaginable pleasure…
Christopher Nash, a man of the world is disgustingly wealthy and to some a notorious womanizer. His methods in sex and women are the same as in his business dealings—execute a plan and always get what he wants. After rescuing a sassy and gorgeous woman, something behind her eyes makes him want to take care of her.
…and surrender to him.
Brooklyn Jameson literally stumbles at the feet of a mysterious man. Handing her an unusual business card offers the opportunity to meet again. At the appointed time and place, he makes an offer she can’t refuse. Life is about to change when she accepts the proposition—four weekends unlocking her wildest fantasies of pleasure. In the end, can Brooklyn trust Christopher and surrender to every dark desire inside Apartment 18B or run away when he breaks her heart?
He’s bad news, I told myself, but I didn’t listen. He desired one thing from me. What else would a man like him want with an average-looking, boring paralegal when he could have any beautiful, socialite from the city? The world for that matter? I’d seen the pictures on-line of him and a tall blonde beauty on his arm—many of them. I was completely the opposite and not at all in their league.
He wanted sex, only. Could I handle that?
Sex without strings attached, pure, unadulterated, down and dirty sex. Men like Christopher Nash couldn’t give more. They wanted the kind of sex no one could know about, behind closed doors with no public displays of affection. Men in his position don’t go for girls like me. They used us, and they certainly didn’t show us off.
I’d known that was a possibility when I came here tonight. So why was I vacillating? I was a smart, liberated woman and could deal with being used for one night, right?
Standing still at the window with his back to me, I couldn’t help to admire his backside as much as the front. I decided to stop overthinking the situation and wait and see what he’d do next.
Without facing me, he spoke in a deep and rumbly voice. “Take off your dress, Miss Jameson.”
Stunned from his bluntness, I wasn’t sure how to answer his command, and yes it was a command, not a nice, friendly request. I came here tonight to see the famous Christopher Nash, not shy away when he made a move on me. “What?” I finally eked out, giving him a bit of indignation. “Excuse me? Who said I…I didn’t agree to…” I wasn’t sure my voice came out the way I thought in my head. The words came out kind of squeaky.
I’d had masturbatory sessions late at night dreaming about having sex with the man. My head told me to turn and walk away because I wasn’t ready, but my body said something else. A few minutes ago, I intended to leave, but that kiss. Damn! It was hot and swayed my body to stay, not run. Now, I had no other choice than to obey. Well, I did have a choice to say ‘No, thank you’ and leave, but I wanted to experience what it was like to be in the company of such a wealthy, powerful and handsome as all get out man. I wanted the fantasy, not deny it. My arousal factor jumped a notch, and my body overruled my brain. I wasn’t sure who I tried to convince—him or me. This was what I’d dreamed about, and I argued with myself about telling him to shove it and leave or stay and have him shove it—in me.
He glanced over his shoulder with lust-filled eyes that didn’t leave mine. I found it hard to break the intense, mesmerizing blue gaze. The decision was made. My body won.
“Because we both know you want to do as I ask.” His rich, low murmur made parts of me tremble inside.
I lifted my chin to project more confidence, but my words came out just the opposite. “Why—what—I think you’ve misunderstood my intentions for coming here tonight.”
“Since our first meeting on the street, something was building between us. I want you, and you want me. Are you denying it?”
“I-I mean you confuse me, and I didn’t know what to expect when I came here.”
“There’s no need for confusion. You can trust me to take care of you, bring you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. If you agree to do as I say and see if you like how I can make you feel, then take the next step.” He paused before using the same direct command as before. “Remove your dress.”
In the back of my mind, I knew the argument was sound. The attraction between us was profound. I had to be honest with myself. I came tonight not to return the shoes. They were an excuse, the out I needed in case I got in over my head. I came because I wanted to see what sex with a man like him was like. A powerful man, an utterly irresistible man, who with only a look turned me to mush. When he faced the window again, shivers of anticipation coursed through me. I needed to shut my logical thoughts down and go with my true intentions. My body knew what it wanted, I just had to convince my brain.
Without a second of hesitation, I pulled the zipper down, the plastic teeth moaned with each tug. I pushed the crepe material over my shoulders, and then wiggled it down past my hips until the small garment fell into a puddle around my ankles. I stepped over the dress and waited for him to say something, do anything, but all the while, he never once turned around to watch.
The act felt erotic, sexy, and so dirty. Like I was a call girl getting ready to service the billionaire. I stifled the giggle rumbling at the back of my throat. He was a billionaire according to Forbes Magazine.
“Put on the other heels.”
Stunned by the new request, I turned and stared at the box on the table for a few seconds before I did as he asked.
“Okay, what do you want next, Mr. Nash?” I asked coyly, stunning myself for playing the coquettish girl.
“Come here, Miss Jameson.”
I was so aroused, wearing nothing but my black lace push-up bra and matching thong, complemented with thigh-high sheer stockings and four-inch heels. Uncomfortable but turned on, I’d worn the sexy lingerie, you know, just in case.
Gray Dixon, the nom de plume of erotica writer of hot, sexy stories for the adult crowd, loves walks along the beach at sunset, a glass of wine over a romantic dinner and a night of love. She also writes under the name Cynthia Arsuaga with her husband, Mike.
On the serious side, she currently resides in Orlando, Florida, the land of magic, surrounded by the treasured gems in her life, a caring, loving husband, dutiful and loyal daughter, and precious, delightful granddaughter. Oh and not to forget her mischievous Silky terrier, Fitzy.
Many things excite Gray—crafting, watching the History Channel, reality shows (not all, but some), travel, and of course writing. She’s worked hard all her life in many interesting fields and enjoyed all of them, but she finally found enough time to relax and enjoy escaping into the worlds she creates through her stories. She writes contemporary and paranormal erotica with BDSM elements, and hopes readers will enjoy the tales she weaves.
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Gray-Dixon/