He swore underneath his breath.
The room felt like a hundred degrees with sun blazing through the window. Had the air-conditioning in the hotel gone out? He’d paid enough for the room and it should be like an iceberg if he wanted it to be.
In the back of his mind, though, he remembered the brunette playing with the temperature controls, saying something about hot sex. Like it was a new fad like hot yoga or something.
The woman’s nose brushed against his arm.
None too gently, he pushed her further away on the mattress, trying to find space for his six-foot-two frame.
Hot sex. Yeah, they’d done that. The floor beside the bed was littered with condoms.
Hot tips?
Yeah, she’d given him those, too, although getting answers out of her wasn’t as easy as he’d expected. It wasn’t because she was loyal or protective of company secrets. No, his bed partner last night had been oblivious. Just freaking clueless.
He kicked the sheet off his feet, trying to find some relief. What time was it?
He glanced at the clock on the nondescript nightstand. It was late for him, but not bad considering what time he’d finally stopped plying her for information.
Mandy or Candy or whatever her name was shifted, and the sheet fell down to her waist. Her silicone-enhanced breasts stood up unnaturally on her chest, but what the fuck? Seeing those red tips pointing skyward had his dick stiffening. Hot sex with an airhead was still sex.
‘Mmmm,’ she hummed as she stretched her arms high overhead. Her legs twisted and her back arched. Jason’s cock had grown as hard as those whalebones they’d studied last night at that water research thingamajig.
Aquasomething or other.
He rubbed a hand across his face. He was usually sharper than this. Aquamarine. That was it. It was a good charity. He’d left a hefty cheque to support the cause, but he’d been frustrated by the evening as well.
Senator McHale hadn’t been as forthcoming as he would have liked. Jason’s company supported hundreds of the man’s constituents. Bodycheck made equipment and apparel to protect the nation’s soldiers. Body armour, vehicle armour and protective helmets. You’d think that the head of the Senate Appropriations Committee would be a bit more open about the upcoming vote on the defence contract that Jason’s company sought. The senator’s insistence on the secrecy of the vote had been annoying, although it demanded some respect.
If he’d only had a few more minutes with the man, he might have received some answers. The senator had been wavering just before that blonde lightning bolt had struck.
The waitress.
Jason’s waking cock twitched higher towards his belly button.
He remembered that tall, cool drink of ice water better than he remembered the woman lying next to him. She’d been like a Nordic princess, tall and slender, but with all the right curves. And that face …
She’d stopped him in his tracks. He’d literally forgotten how to speak, right in the middle of his talk with the senator. All his blood had rushed to his groin at his first sight of her. It had irritated him to be interrupted in the middle of what had been a very important discussion.
It irritated him more that she’d walked away, leaving him with a boner the size of one of those blue whales’ teeth.
The brunette beside him began to wake for real.
She stretched again, her breasts pointing jauntily at the ceiling. Then her puppy-dog brown eyes fluttered open. She appeared confused at first, and her gaze searched the room. When she spotted him, those eyes turned soft and adoring.
He sighed. What was her name again?
She rolled onto her side, crowding him all over. The sheet slipped down the curve of her hip, exposing the dark thatch between her legs. She made no move to cover herself, and her lips curled in a knowing smile.
The girl didn’t have a lot going on upstairs, but she knew how to use what she had.
Jason didn’t like the blatant feminine power play, but that didn’t mean he didn’t respond when she ran her hand over the tented sheet at his groin. Thinking of the blonde had given him a hard-on, but she stoked the fire.
God, how warm was it in the room? A bead of sweat was already sliding down his neck.
‘Good morning, my sex machine,’ she whispered with a giggle at the end.
Her squeaky voice did nothing for him, but he placated her by reaching over and cupping one of those fake breasts. It was firm and rounded, but not shaped quite right. She’d shown them off in that blue dress, though. He’d spent half the night wondering if one was going to pop out.
He flicked her nipple with his thumb, and it beaded nicely.
The evening with her had been tedious, but it had had its perks.
He rolled onto his side. ‘What time do you have to be at work?’
He nosed her sticky dark hair out of his way so he could lick the pulse in her neck.
‘Mmm,’ she hummed. ‘Eight.’
He licked the soft spot under her ear as his gaze went to the clock on the nightstand. That didn’t give him much time.
He nibbled at her earlobe. ‘Big day?’
Her long nails scraped the back of his neck. ‘Why? Want me to meet you for a nooner?’
Hardly.
Still, when she pushed at his shoulders, he rolled onto his back. It put him right on the edge of the bed again, and she laughed when she realised she’d fall off if she tried to straddle him.
Changing tactics, she knelt on the mattress beside him and began to kiss her way down his chest.
OK, better, Jason thought.
‘I could meet you for a late lunch,’ he offered, thinking through his calendar. This dalliance was beginning to cost just a bit too much. If it didn’t pan out soon, he was going to have to cut ties.
Which could have some downsides, he thought as her tongue dipped into his bellybutton.
‘Mmm, sorry … can’t.’ She gave a feminine purr of approval when his six-pack sucked in tighter under her ministrations.
‘Why not?’ he asked.
She swept back her hair and her butt jutted into the air as she kissed her way southward. The press of her lips against his tip made his cock jump, even though the sheet still separated them. The sensation almost made him miss her next words.
Almost.
‘Big meeting,’ she whispered.
His head jerked up off the pillow. ‘Oh, yeah? With who?’
‘Plastical. They come every year at this time to renegotiate their contract.’
Tell him something he didn’t know. He’d been trying to get in the way of that automatic renewal for three years now – and this year might be his chance.
‘Has Dumonde been talking with them?’ he asked.
The brunette stopped her nuzzling and petting to frown at him.
Jason held up his hands. ‘The shorter the meeting, the longer we have for …’ He glanced down at his cock. It was now standing up like a tent pole. ‘Lunch.’
The questions left her innocent eyes and she pouted. ‘No. That negotiation always takes days – at least it did with my last boss.’
‘Yes,’ he hissed in triumph.
She misinterpreted