Chapter 1
Shannon Price, gazing at herself in the mirror, placed her hands on her narrow hips and turned slowly. Her sexy figure was sure to mesmerize Jason Hammer. The dramatic slope of her mouth-watering bosom in connection with her tiny waist would be to her advantage. She whipped her mane of red hair over her bare shoulders and took pleasure in the disarming force she represented. Her off-the-shoulder dress, which revealed eye-popping cleavage, was precisely the weapon which with she wished to arm herself in their pivotal meeting.
Lawton Enterprises had aggressively pursued Jason's company, Windsor Communications for the past six months with little success. Other companies tried bidding for Jason's radio and television empire-none of which reached serious negotiation. Jason insisted on far more control than those courting him would allow.
Lawton envisioned Windsor Communications as an attractive subsidiary that added value to their stock. If acceptable terms were reached, they stood to become a powerful entity in the Information Age. Lawton, an electronics manufacturer, would have entree in the rapidly expanding universe of telecommunication. Windsor had mastered satellite and laser technology-a realm of which Lawton was enamored.
Earlier attempts to seduce Windsor into a merger had failed. Price and level of authority were Jason Hammer's principle concern. His bargaining skills frustrated the agents of competing organizations. Some believed Jason Hammer was not sincere in placing Windsor on the auction block, and by design, driving the price per share of his company's stock beyond anyone's means.
In order to convert Jason Hammer, Lawton enlisted two assertive bodies among its ranks. Shannon had shown potential from day one. Her hard-ball approach, tempered by her succulent appearance, gave them confidence. At twenty-six, she was pegged a champion. She had delivered other companies to them on a silver platter. Windsor would be the diamond in her crown.
Shannon, unfortunately, was in contention with another Lawton star. Tom Lynch had also been summoned to the plate to claim Jason
Hammer's signature on their contract. Tom had the instincts of a shark, as well as a deviant talent for survival. Behind that Ivy League front, he possessed ruthless cunning.
At first blush, he didn't seem particularly handsome. Tom had a rounded face, thinning dark hair, and wore wire-rimmed glasses. To compensate for his lack of external shine, he worked diligently at building his physique to perfection. Enlarged biceps and well-defined pectorals in relation to the beefy limbs and trim waist caused him to resemble a bouncer in casual clothes. Tom chose expensive suits, however, to add the punch he needed in making a positive statement.
Tom instilled the opinion he excelled in sports, favored challenge, and could accomplish the impossible. Those who knew him intimately thought him an arrogant, self-serving bastard. He was an advocate of "dirty pool."
Shannon hid her dislike of Tom reasonably well. When Lawton elected to pair them, she immediately sensed they were testing her. Though she genuinely loathed the man, she was determined to create the illusion of camaraderie for the sake of winning. Shannon aimed to prove she was the consummate professional, despite the obstacle they threw in her path. Shannon's self-assurance was her best defense against any curve balls Tom threw. When they returned to New York, their report would contain that she had been instrumental in securing Windsor, not Tom.
The television blared from the adjoining room. Shannon frowned. Having Tom as her neighbor at the hotel was an irritant. He was obnoxiously loud every chance he got. Management claimed that due to a well-attended conference, space had been limited. Shannon had been compelled to accept their provisions with false cheer. Seconds after being escorted to her quarters, she slammed drawers and kicked the bed repeatedly. A heavy chair was strategically placed in front of the connecting door, barring Tom from entrance.
Naturally, her torment pleased Tom. His goal was to profit from any wrinkle in her polished demeanor. The less stable she appeared, the more-likely the event Jason Hammer would turn to him. Tom endeavored to displace her legendary calm.
Tom's scheme was transparent to Shannon. She detested him, thought him despicable and wanted nothing more than to rub his face in defeat. If he maintained that his little tricks would undercut her worth, he was set for a shock. Shannon intended to fight him and his mercenary style.
At promptly eight o'clock, Shannon left her room to go to the lobby. A limousine had been arranged to take her and Tom to the cocktail party, where they were to meet Jason Hammer. If her "date" neglected to be punctual when their transportation arrived, Shannon had no qualms about leaving without him.
"Passable," a familiar voice judged. "A little flashy, but it does justice to your shallow image." .
Spinning around, she was accosted by the sight of a rather smug Tom leaning against a marble pillar. His evaluation of her outfit singed her. She searched her repertoire of insults for one that evened the score. His dark blue suit and red silk tie were too traditional to find fault. She centered on his receding hairline. "Did you spend considerable time deciding which way to part it?"
He grinned. Tom's baldness was a sensitive issue. He forbid her to rouse his ire. "I hope you remembered to pack your better perfume. I understand Jason Hammer is repelled by cheap scents."
"I buy only the best," Shannon declared. "Incidentally, your aftershave is a bit much. I suggest something less startling. Let's pray Jason doesn't have an allergic reaction to it."
He chuckled. "You've got a pretty quick mouth. I'll bet it gets plenty of practice."
"Indeed, it does."
Tom held his temper in check. The snotty bitch would not get up his dander-regardless of how vehemently she tipped the scales. When Lawton informed him that she was to be his peer for the Windsor acquisition, he was less than kind in his outlook. He argued with his superiors that putting someone of Shannon Price's inept quality on the project would amount to disaster. Repeatedly told that would not be the case, Tom ultimately concluded Shannon's opportunity evolved from the powerful allies she fucked. A sexy woman like that must have earned her title from putting time in on her back.
Tom, the consummate chauvinist, was of the unshakable conviction that women had no talent for big business, that they nurtured illusions of grandeur and more often scotched deals than helped matters. Most prevailed upon the men they encountered with heavy doses of female charm and sexual allure, figuring those elements were the key to their success. It was his perception that they didn't belong in the corporate culture, that their brilliance was overstated and their concept of negotiating a farce. Orchestrating reorganization was a man's job. Little wonder why someone of his caliber was pressed into service to put a vital undertaking like the Windsor merger to bed. A woman couldn't possibly coordinate such a daunting effort.
He resented female executives on the rise-Shannon was no exception.
The limo arrived within moments, whisking them off to the cocktail party. They sat far apart as possible, refraining from conversation. Negative vibrations flowed wildly between them. Perpetuating team spirit would be the ultimate contest. Their theatrical skills were to be tapped as never before.
The cocktail party, an intimate gathering of professionals in the telecommunications and telemarketing industry, buzzed with excitement. Shannon and Tom immediately circulated, in search of the elusive Jason Hammer. They had seen video tapes and photographs of Windor's president, but not rubbed elbows with him in person.
"Remember, we're working, not playing, " he hissed in her ear before they separated.
Shannon, immune to his parting shot, remained cool. Her antennae were up. She scanned the sea of faces with her radar while making polite conversation and nursing a single glass of Chablis. Her skills needed to stay razor-sharp throughout the evening.
She saw no sign of Jason Hammer, a man in his late thirties with blond hair and the face of a boxer. She recalled, when viewing his picture, detecting a sensual quality about him. His giant hands posted some shivering thoughts. Shannon had no intention of sleeping with the man, but couldn't help subscribing to fantasy. The last thing she wished to be accused of was offering him sex as a means of obtaining a bargaining edge. Shannon had enough confidence in herself to enter negotiations without throwing her pussy in the deal.
Although he had apparently dodged her, Shannon realized the effect of her stirring display. Heads consistently turned, friendly grins were brandished and comments were muttered among the room's male population. Even the women in attendance felt upstaged by Shannon's sexiness. Eyes seemed to linger on her jutting breasts, or dwell upon her sumptuous ass.
Shannon contained her pleasure. She didn't mind being the attention-grabber. There was no harm in their looking-it bolstered her ego. She conditioned herself to being a visual target, given her shapely attributes, and accepted it as a compliment rather than a curse. Shannon commonly illuminated a room upon her entrance.
Though attempting to divert himself with others he encountered, Tom was among her onlookers. At first, he thought her entirely too flamboyant in that show-all dress, but as his observation lengthened, he secretly acknowledged her drawing power. He vowed never to reveal his fascination-that would contribute to the vanity of a sworn enemy.
If Shannon weren't his rival, and instead, a total stranger, he would have approached her. Despite his obstinacy about admitting it, he found her desirable. Her adversarial spirit, however, extinguished that fire.
Tom sniffed and downed his drink. The flight had seemed excessively long with Shannon beside him. Traveling tended to siphon his drive-and augment his weaknesses. He had to be careful not to fall under that vixen's spell. She probably wanted to appeal to him as an ulterior motive.
His flagging energies would be revitalized by morning. Shannon would be pitted against a more clever opponent.
Shannon caught sight of Tom's momentary glimpse. Because of her strong dislike of him, she invested nothing in his fleeting admiration. She resolved that he was spying on her, and making certain she hadn't gotten to Jason Hammer first. She camouflaged her disgust. If she happened to be the one that clinched the deal, she would insist that she never be matched again with Tom Lynch. She completely loathed him.
In that same instant, she turned and bumped into the person next to her. Her sudden elbow dislodged his drink and plucked it from his grasp.
"I'm terribly sorry," she blurted and was about to retrieve the dropped glass when the man's identity became crystalline. "Oh, my. You're-"
"Jason Hammer," he said with a smile, extending his hand. Her sparkle of recognition pleased him. "It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have been standing so closely."
He enchanted her. The photographs of Jason Hammer certainly didn't hold a candle to the man who stood before her. There was a striking, rugged beauty about him she deemed breathtaking. Six-foot four, blond and fiercely sensual, she endured a delicious weakness gazing at him. Her staring could hardly be labeled professional.
"I'm at a disadvantage," he said after a moment's lapse. "You are-"
"Shannon Price, of Lawton Enterprises." She scarcely kept the color from reaching her cheeks. For someone of her superb control, she was bungling it.
Tom materialized at her side within seconds. "Shannon, did you just cause Mr. Hammer to spill his drink?"
"She can't be totally credited with the blame," Jason rushed to her defense. "I took part in it."
"Permit me to introduce myself. I'm Tom Lynch, of Lawton Enterprises." He put his hand out to Jason, who returned a firm grip.
"Lawton, eh? You folks are here to discuss business," Jason said. "I've been anticipating your visit."
Shannon felt the warmth of his sexy blue eyes. She quivered. Jason stirred her loins-that was an indisputable fact. The sight of him set her hormones in motion. There was an exciting toughness about him. He appeared as though he had never dodged a fight in his life. She was sure Jason had settled more than one argument with his fists; on the other hand, he had the capacity to attract women. Although it wasn't her objective, she wondered about him in bed. Jason was very-likely an outstanding lover.
Tom read Shannon's underlying reaction and stewed. He predicted the overrated bitch would sink her hooks into Jason Hammer. Tom had to watch her closely and double his efforts in gaining the man's respect. Shannon's shameless conduct could earn Lawton a sleazy reputation. Beating Shannon to the punch was critical; exposing her as a fake would yield tremendous satisfaction.
"Perhaps we can discuss matters privately over lunch?" Tom suggested, looking directly at Jason. "I could meet you tomorrow afternoon."
Shannon froze. Tom intended to muscle her out through omission. "Yes," she quickly appended, "we understand talking with you during a party like this would be a distraction." She looked squarely at Tom, editing the scorn from her tone. "We ought to take Mr. Hammer to that country club, where we could enjoy some golf while reviewing our proposal."
Tom caught himself from flinching. He was aware of Shannon's prowess for the game. The-likelihood of leaving her in a sand trap was remote. "Perhaps Mr. Hammer doesn't play."
"As it happens, I do," Jason interjected. "And please, refer to me as Jason. If we're to spend time together, I would prefer less formality." He directed that comment at Shannon, and completed it with a smile.
Neither Shannon, nor Jason, were cognizant of Tom's slow burn. He remained bold-spirited; internally, frustration roiled through his gut. Jason Hammer seemed to be gravitating naturally toward Shannon-a bad omen, in his estimation.
"I'll invite Alex, my attorney," Jason said. "That way, we'll have instant access to legal input and be paired more evenly."
"Splendid," Shannon exclaimed.
Her radiance chagrined Tom. His pupils narrowed behind the wire-rimmed lenses. He forecasted being stuck with the lawyer while Shannon had Jason Hammer all to herself. The man would no doubt be furnished with a tantalizing view of her tits and ass in a form-fitting outfit. Tom saw through Shannon's plan-the sly bitch.
Tom and Shannon returned to the hotel shortly after midnight. Neither spoke a word in the limo.
Tom was much too rankled to admit her successful maneuver. Stealing a glance at her, he saw her silently celebrating that initial conquest. Her apparent rejoicing annoyed him-and warranted the adoption of a more aggressive program.
Shannon dreamily mulled over the encounter with Jason Hammer-not as a liaison, but a man. She could not rid herself of the delicious chills he precipitated. For the duration of the evening, her panties had gotten exceptionally damp. The woman in her ached for him. Spending the rest of the night in an empty room was a maddening prospect.
"I'll be in the lobby at six," Tom informed her in the hallway. "If you're late, I'll leave without you."
"My alarm will be set."
"Right." He all but slammed the door behind him.
Shannon's emotional high couldn't be muddled by Tom's insolence. She essentially floated into her room. Seconds after being alone, she caressed herself. The large mirror in front of her bed revealed the swell of her nipples. Hooking her thumbs over the top, she peeled her dress down until her tits emerged. The air-conditioning invigorated those fleshy stubs. She scooped up her billowy spheres and gave them a squeeze. Ohhhhhhhhhh. In her mind, she had Jason fondling them. His hands enclosed and tweaked her enlarged nubs.
Shannon studied her reflection. Her green pupils glazed over at the rotation of her thumbs. A lush, indulgent feeling consumed her. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. She whisked her curly mane over her shoulders, watching the ripple of her sensual lips. Thoughts of Jason dispatched the electrical charge that jolted her nervous system.
Shivering, she discarded her dress. It fell from her aroused flesh, piling at her feet. She stepped away from it, tingling in anticipation. Her eye stayed on the mirror. She observed her appetizing profile. Shannon's small waist made her tits truly enormous. She turned and savored the view. Mmmmmmmmm. She contemplated Jason encompassing her with those giant hands. Her waist would not be the sole object of his grope; equal attention would be lavished on her ass.
God. She knew she shouldn't succumb to such whimsy, but Jason's virile figure provoked that response. Even if she never fucked him-a dismal prospect-at least she could pretend to have had that experience.
After a thorough examination, she reclined upon the bed. Her naked body tingled against the crisp sheets. She traced stimulating patterns on her bare skin, starting beneath her shoulders, then swirling about her erect nipples. She writhed, digging her heels into the mattress. Ohhhhhhhhh. Jason's imaginary mouth arrived to capture one nipple while he stroked the other.
Eventually, she wandered to her frilly panties. Her fingers dipped beneath fragrant silk. She grazed the patch of moist curls, searching for her clit. Her pussy hungered for her clasp. She trailed her thumb over the succulent division of her cunt, then let it sink between its juicy flaps.
Shannon's head pressed into the pillow. An inadvertent gasp escaped her throat. Clenching her teeth, she trembled. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, yeah."
She visualized that embedded member belonged to Jason. Lust blazed through her susceptible flesh. She inserted another finger, moaning as it sank into her squishy cunt. This time, the sob she fired was of higher pitch.
"Oh, God. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, yeah."
She reached into her slick pussy, awed at the way it sucked her digit. From its milking rhythm, she gathered it wanted to be attached to a cock. She pictured those sodden lips fashioned about Jason, spurring him to cum. The notion of him burying his dick inside her gave her a lasting thrill.
She streamed to her love button. A surge of adrenaline prompted her finger. Centering upon that pulsating dot, she brushed it. Ohhhhhhhhh. One flick followed another, until she was immersed in jiggling. Her tits bounced on her chest as she abandoned herself to that rich sensation. A furious cry sprang to her lips and echoed through her room.
Next door, Tom heard her moan. He had climbed into bed, feeling miserable about the turn of events, when her throaty call droned through the walls.
He shook his head in disgust. The bitch must have packed her vibrator. Masturbating was probably a nightly ritual if she didn't have the real thing.
He lay there, straining his ear for more of those meaningful sobs. At first, he thought them ridiculous-another crack at rubbing his nose in failure-but gradually, his body responded. His cock twitched, then began to lengthen. He clenched his fists, shaking. A hot yearning gathered in the pit of his groin.
Jesus, he thought, the bitch was turning him on. His conscious effort to retain control over his libido met with defeat. His rebellious member filled with excitement, stretching across the front of his underwear. He hated the fact she that power over him.
Her persistent wail made him restless. She tormented him with that husky petition. Sweat oozed from his pores. He longed to block out that rough breathing-and, yet, a foreign side of him considered it music.
He stared at the giant outline of his hard-on. Shannon brought him to a throbbing swell. No matter how great his animosity was, she provoked his desire. In his mind, he hated her-the rest of him ached for that sweet body.
Tom searched through the darkness for the connecting door. He half-expected her to-knock, pleading to join him. A woman that aroused generally needed a man to quench her thirst. The thought of Shannon Price soliciting him afforded a measure of satisfaction. He considered being a source of pleasure for her voracious appetite-and felt a qualified supplier. What hung between his legs was more than enough to fulfill Shannon. Her request would be granted after subjecting her to the same brand of erotic torture.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," she moaned in the distant. "Ohhhhhhh. Oh, God. Ohhhhhhhhhh."
Tom's hand slid into his underwear. He wrapped his cock in his fist, then gave it a jerk. Ahhhhhhhhhh. He massaged that pulsating burden. He exhaled harshly, letting his gratification build while eavesdropping on Shannon's verbal bliss. Her mewls of joy aroused him. Up and down his coiled fingers went to facilitate orgasm. A portrait of Shannon was mentally superimposed on the connecting door; he concentrated on it while fondling his cock.
He composed a stimulating image: Shannon shaking, her eyes flashing, her tits shifting seductively. Rivulets of sweat mired her curvaceous form. Salty drops clung to her distended nipples, while a fragrant mist was scattered in her pubic thatch. Those mountains of flesh on her chest pivoted as she gyrated her hips. Her legs spilt open, revealing a succulent pussy. The flowered lips were anxious to receive cock.
Tom yanked on his highly excited dick. He dug his heels in the mattress while pursuing the ecstasy of that sequence. His balls churned with cum. He saw Shannon accepting his creamy product between those shapely legs. Her shivering consent fueled him. He tugged at his swollen member, sustaining that vision. He wanted to leave his gooey deposit inside her cunt and watch that glossy sheen inhabit her green eyes.
He spawned another fantasy: Shannon deferring to him, moving her sexy body specifically to heighten his enjoyment. In his fantasy, she caressed his back and arms, then cupped his hammering buttocks. She sweltered beneath him, pleading to receive everything he had. He fucked deep into her soaked pussy, filling it with his willful cock. She whispered in his ear how wildly she needed him-and how no other man could quench her thirst. That he wasn't a handsome man mattered little to Shannon-he succeeded in making her his slave nonetheless. She told him to do whatever he wished to her, as long as it gave him pleasure.
Tom rapidly jerked his cock, waiting for his cum to spurt. His eyes rolled up in their sockets while jism splattered his stomach. Muffling his groans, he maintained his feverish grip. He spasmed savagely, lurching in bed. Hot air hissed through clenched teeth.
Throughout his convulsion, he thought of Shannon eagerly submitting to him. During those frenzied moments, his contempt for her was displaced.
Shannon jiggled herself to the same, ecstatic plane. She worked her clit while nurturing a fantasy that featured Jason Hammer. She pretended to enclose his waist with her thighs and that his muscled body battered her moments prior to orgasm.
Her eyes flickered at the connecting door during another extended sob. Instantly, her moan died in her throat. God, she hoped Tom hadn't overheard her frantic sounds.
Her finger came to an abrupt halt. She reddened at the prospect of confronting him, recognizing the truth behind that smug expression. She had armed him with yet another weapon. Tom would definitely hold that weakness over her. She erred by permitting her lust to spawn into a flesh-grappling affair.
Suddenly and without discernible explanation, her finger returned to her clit. She effected a swift, wrenching motion, eager to finish what had been started. Masturbation had left her too disturbed. Shannon needed that toe-curling rush.
She tried to summon Jason Hammer's countenance to conclude that session, but it failed to materialize. Instead, Tom Lynch's face converged upon the scene. Unaccountably, her digit moved with precision and catapulted her to orgasm. She bit her bottom lip while intense contractions riddled her body.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Oh, God! she thought, surprised by the strength and perpetuation of her climax. Tom's image would not leave her head. She thrashed and whimpered, unable to stop the flood of joy.
When finally numb and depleted, Shannon attempted to reconcile that furious seizure. Why would Tom Lynch-her sworn enemy-prompt such a piercing orgasm? She consciously detested him, deemed him repugnant. She couldn't ever remember cumming like that.
Her mystification hadn't prevented her from dreaming about Tom through the night. By morning, she awoke in a film of sweat, more disturbed than before.