The Circle (2 page)

* * * * *

While emptying my pockets the following morning, my fingers curled around a cool, smooth item, the one Devin had slipped in there. My heart did a little skip-to-my-lou as I withdrew my hand and inspected the glossy black business card. No name or phone number, only a symbol and an address in silver script: #1 Cornet Drive. The symbol looked somewhat like an inverted capital ‘A’, but the line across the middle curved toward the bottom of the card.

I traced the emblem, caught by the memory of his fingers brushing me from inside my pocket. A shiver climbed the rungs of my spine. After a good mental shake and a shrug, I went into the living room and slid it into my wallet, hoping to put it out of my mind so I could get some work done.

Showered and coffee in hand, I sat at my mahogany roll-top desk in front of my iMac to do some writing. My fingers poised to type, but my mind flitted back to Devin of Cornet. I’d never met such an aggressive man, and I couldn’t stop the image of him forcing me to the floor and ravaging me from consuming my mind. The thought of his strength when he’d pushed me against the bar, of his bold confidence, of the amusement in his eyes at my obvious attraction caused a contraction in my lower abdomen.

I’d never liked mystery novels; I always ended up flipping to the final chapter because I couldn’t read fast enough to suit my curiosity. Not knowing his last name, who he was, or how he knew anything about me would eat me alive until I unraveled him.

I had to stop it! I had one month left to finish the manuscript. Concentrate!

After staring at my screen for half an hour without typing a single word, I gave up and dressed in dark jeans and a silk blouse. Mother had me scheduled into a planning meeting for her publishing company at nine a.m. Normally I dreaded the snore fest, but with such a juicy morsel to ponder while the idiots griped about the schedule, I’d entertain myself just fine.

Chapter Two

I inspected my French-tipped nails while Mother droned on in her best high and mighty voice. Across the oak table from me, Charles tapped his pencil against his notepad sporting elaborate doodles of enlarged heads and tiny bodies engaged in different sports. His light brown hair shot out in every direction, and his tiny, rectangular glasses slipped down his narrow nose each time he shoved them back up. His time would have been better spent finishing the cover for my new book.

Ash sat to my right in his typical blue-eyed surfer attire of a Hawaiian shirt and khakis, ogling me as usual. I rolled my eyes and angled myself away from him. A sudden flash of memory gripped me, causing me to draw in a quick breath and slouch in my chair. I rubbed the side of my throat where Devin had touched me, his stroke light, yet insistent, as if he knew the location of every erogenous zone on my body and could roll them like tumblers on a lock to open me up wide. I pictured him spreading me out on the table like a kingly feast and holding me down as his lips explored my southern hemisphere.

“Katharine!”

Mother’s sharp tone snapped me out of my fantasy. My face heated as I whirled my leather chair to face her and sat up straight. “What?”

“Are you listening?” The mirror of my blue eyes glared a warning at me. Her bright red lipstick contrasted with her pale skin, making her look like a vampire prostitute. “Ash asked when you’ll have the first draft of novel ten to him for editing.”

A nerve twitched under my eye. “You told me a month, and that’s when I’ll have it.”

“Make it three weeks. We’ve got June French’s coming in next month. If we get yours off sooner, the scheduling will work better.”

I gripped the table and leaned forward, cursing under my breath. “You trimming a week from my time to work your precious schedule won’t get the novel written any faster in reality, Mother. If you let me work instead of forcing me to attend these pointless meetings three times a week, I might get it done faster.”

Her fake lashes fluttered as they always did when I’d really pissed her off. She would have been frowning, too, had she not deadened half of her facial muscles with Botox. “How dare you take that tone with me? I made you, and I can break you just the same.”

I shoved my chair back and stood. A frustrated laugh boiled up my throat. “You made me? The last time I looked, they were my words on the pages, my name on the books.”

She dismissed me with a disgusted curl of her upper lip and a flip of her hand. “Had I not bribed half the industry, you’d still be papering your walls with rejection letters from every publisher in the country. Now. Sit. Down.”

Devin’s words crashed in on me. Was it true? Did my career take off only because of Mother? I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t. “Do your fucking schedule without me. You don’t listen to anything I say anyway. I’d have more luck talking to the cardboard cut-out you have of yourself in your bedroom.”

I stomped out of the enormous glass room, sped down the hall, and ducked into the washroom. Why did I even allow her to publish my books? A word to the press about my eagerness to leave and I’d have publishers clamoring over themselves to offer me a deal. Wouldn’t I?

In front of the gilded mirror, I gripped the black granite countertop and stared at myself. My reflection revealed a deep flush to my skin, though anger had little to do with it. Devin fantasies had plagued my every thought since the night before. I couldn’t look at a hard surface without imagining him pinning me to it.

As if my thoughts conjured him out of the air, his scent swirled around me, a sweet, yet masculine essence. In the mirror, my dilated pupils almost completely obscured the cornflower blue, and wetness spread beneath my silk panties.

“Katharine”

Devin’s voice whispered through my mind, inducing a deep, lustful sigh from me. Was it memory? A twinge of recognition tightened my belly.

“Who are you?”
I thought at him.
“Have we met before?”

No answer. I propped my hands against the counter and hung my head forward, laughed at myself. “You’re losing it Katharine. Get a fucking grip.”

Still, need pulsed through my flesh, burning wherever he’d touched, contracting my pussy over and over again until desire consumed all thought. My shaking hands unbuckled my belt and shoved the fabric down to the floor. I set one foot on the closed lid of the toilet and dipped my fingers into my dripping folds. My other hand gripped the counter to steady me as I explored, circled, pinched my stiffened clit, and plunged two fingers in deep, but my hunger only grew. I moved my hips against my hand. Moans filled the room, and my chest heaved above my throbbing heart. Every muscle in my body tightened down like springs compressed too hard.

Time stood still for a moment before hot prickles danced out from my core, and my body bucked as the orgasm rocked me. I cried out my pleasure as the contractions slowed, ripples of pleasure dancing out from my fiery center.

Panting and giggling, I sank to the floor, thankful for private washrooms in the building. An echo of Devin’s laughter joined my own.

I blinked at the white tile wall and remembered where I was. “Shit.” How loud had I been? It had been months since I’d touched myself and never in a public place. I cleaned myself up, redressed, and washed my hands. The distinctive scent of sex lingered in the air. I lingered for a while, inhaling the mixture of lust and Devin’s own perfume, a concoction that could addict me if I allowed it.

After straightening my shirt and splashing cold water on my face, I opened the door and went out into the hallway with rubbery legs and a smile on my face.

Ash came out of the men’s washroom door to my right, a smirk quirking his lips. His powder blue eyes shined with laughter. He walked up to me, but stared past, his chin quivering. “I’d offer to give you a hand, but I think you did just fine on your own.”

I scowled, and my cheeks blazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He nodded and snickered. “Didn’t know you had it in you. Careful, you’re going to spoil your reputation as the ice queen.” With that, he strutted off down the hall with hands in his pockets.

Eyes locked wide, I dashed into the empty boardroom, grabbed my bag, and went outside to hail a cab.

* * * * *

At home, I crashed on the sofa with a glass of red wine. Had I really heard Devin? I groaned and slapped my free palm against my eye. No. I wasn’t crazy. The more I thought of him, the more I thought I’d seen him somewhere before. As I stared at the row of books on the wooden shelf along the wall, it hit me.

I jumped up from the sofa, set my glass on the table, and pulled book two off the shelf. I flipped right to chapter three where I’d introduced my handsome Raymond. A tremble rippled along my arms as I remembered writing it.

“My name is Raymond of the Eastern Circle,” the man said to Carly as he kissed her hand and looked over her with chocolate eyes.

She melted under his touch but pulled away, trembling in his shadow. “What’s the Eastern Circle?” She gazed at his light brown hair and dark, expensive suit with awe, a magnificent power lifting from him and entering her.

Raymond smiled, showing a mouth full of perfectly straight, white teeth. “You aren’t yet ready to know such things, mistress, but the time will come, I assure you.”

I snapped the book shut and tossed it away as if spiders crawled on it. “What the fuck!” I pressed fingers to my temples and paced. Devin is not a vampire. He’s not Raymond from my book. I stopped and threw my hands up. “Idiot. He’s read the book. That’s why he said Cornet was the name of his Circle and called me mistress.” I sighed and laughed. Very funny, asshole. How had I let him crawl so far into my head? A twinge of regret lingered in my chest. Did I want him to be a vampire? I shook my head. Pure lunacy.

After downing my wine, I sat down to write and actually managed to pump out two chapters before bed. I crawled under the white fluff of my duvet with Mother’s and Devin’s words rattling through my mind. I’d prove them wrong and throw it in their faces.

* * * * *

I spent the next two days writing a few chapters to go along with a new story idea. Satisfied with the steamy scenes between a werewolf and her human lover, I called up a contact I knew at Randoll Publishing, Mother’s main rival in the business.

“This is Greg.”

“Hey, Greg, this is Katharine Merrick.”

“Katharine, long time no hear. How are things on the Circle front?”

Like I’d tell you, you fake son of a bitch. “Fine, fine, but that’s not what I called to talk about. I came across a new writer I think you might like. Can I send you a sample and you can let me know what you think?”

“Uh—yeah, sure.” Silence. “I have to ask why you’re not taking this up with your mother.”

I huffed out a sigh. “You know what she’s like, Greg. I deal with her when I have to, and that’s it. Do you want this, or not?”

“Absolutely. Shoot it in an email and I’ll take a look.”

“Perfect, thanks, Greg.” I hung up, excitement putting a squeeze on my chest.

After sending my new piece to Greg, I paced with a glass of wine in my hand. By the time my laptop chimed a response, I’d downed most of the bottle of Shiraz.

I ran to my chair, sat down, and opened my email. The muscles across my shoulders tensed as I clicked his email.

Sorry, Katharine, but this is rubbish. I couldn’t even get past the first page, it was so bad. Your friend has a lot to learn about writing erotica before she’ll be able to play with the big girls. Let’s get together for a drink sometime.

Greg.

I stared at the screen for a long time, my mind buzzing with a white static nothing. Maybe Devin was right about me. If I couldn’t write, how could I make a living? I didn’t know how to do anything else.

When I found the strength to move, I crawled under the covers in my bed and, for the first time in years, cried myself to sleep.

* * * * *

My eyes open, and I gaze around the bar where Devin and I first met. Mist hangs in the air, heavy with the scent of Devin’s cologne and the freshness of winter. Hard rock music plays through the speakers. He stares at me with predatory eyes as if he’ll eat me alive and lick his fingers afterwards. My chest rises and falls harder as he draws near.

I’m wearing a white dress, strapless, the skirt just above the knee. Two slits reach up almost to my waist on either side. I slide my hands up over my breasts, press the soft fabric closer to my skin, and sigh.

Devin, wearing nothing more than a pair of black dress pants, reaches for me and licks his full lips. I step closer and run my fingers through his soft hair, marveling at the thickness of it. The hills of his chest call to me, drawing my eyes and palms to explore him.

Growling, he lifts me onto a stool and shoves the hem of the dress up a little. With strong fingers, he forces my knees open and steps in between them. His desire spreads from him through his touch and penetrates me with delicious, sticky fingers of warmth. We are of one mind. Even though a part of me is sickened by my lack of will, the rest of me trembles with excitement.

The brush of fabric against my lower lips tells me I’m not wearing panties. Wetness seeps out faster, and little ripples of pleasure pulsate through my pussy. I grind against his growing mound, gasping at how hard he is. Devin wraps his arms around me and jerks my hips forward, spreading me open so the fabric covering his zipper slides deep into my crevice and contacts my swollen nub. I cry out when he grips my ass, his cool breath washing over my throat.

I’ve never wanted anything as badly so I reach down and open up his zipper, slide my hand in, and claim what I find inside. As my fingers follow my thoughts, he grabs my wrists and twists my arms around to my back faster than I can see. Directly into my ear, he whispers, “Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” I say between labored breaths.

“Does it excite you?”

I hesitate, uncertain for only a moment before I know the truth. “Yes.”

“Good. Are you ready to open yourself to me? To be mine?”

“Oh, yes.”

His laughter comes from low in his chest, a deep rumbling sound. “Then my invitation is given and accepted. I shall claim you tomorrow night.” He presses his lips against my cheek. “Be ready.”

“How do I find you?”

“For now, I will find you. Soon you will be mine and you will need only to think of me.”