The Honey Trap

‘What I could really use for that is a shower. I’ve been travelling all day and this suit is starting to feel decidedly lived-in.’ He closed his fingers around her hand and fixed her with a significant gaze. ‘Is it okay if I use yours, Angel? Saves me having to leave you.’

She flushed, looking down at the hand now holding hers. Should she pull her fingers away? She had to find an excuse to leave the room, cool off for five minutes…

‘Um, there’s a pretty fancy bath in the suite. I can run it for you if you want?’

‘Thanks, I’d appreciate it.’

Angel felt a surge of relief as he loosed her fingers. Standing up, she slipped through the sliding glass panel to the other room.

Okay, this certainly made things easier for her. A bath meant he’d be naked in front of the camera without her having to get too close. Too easy. All she had to do was follow him in and make sure he looked good and compromised.

Whatever that meant…

In the bedroom, she turned on two polished brass taps and watched dreamily while jets of water started to fill the corner bath. The round porcelain tub was surrounded by tiles of white marble, with small lights embedded into the stone. She flicked a switch and they illuminated the room with a candle glow.

There was a little bottle of hotel bubble bath on one side, so she threw some of that in too. The room began to cloud with fragrant, spicy ribbons of steam.

That wouldn’t do: the cupboard mirror would mist over and block the camera feeding back to Steve at home. She turned the cold tap up a little and dabbled in the water with her little finger to check the temperature. Perfect.

She walked over to the cupboard now, opened it to see if the camera was doing its job. Yes, there it was, mounted at the back, an innocent-looking little black box. She gave Steve a sarcastic wave and closed the door again.

Her own reflection blinked back at her, showing her apparently now permanently pink cheeks. She noticed her hair had started to escape from its twist and, pulling out the jewelled pins holding it in place, shook it free around her shoulders. Wearing it up had given it a bouncy wave that suited her more than her usual poker-straight look.

Angel could picture Steve’s look of disapproval at the other end of the camera as she kicked off the leopard-print heels and stashed them under the bed. Well, heels might be sexy, but her feet were starting to lose all feeling. She flexed the liberated toes with relief.

She knew she had to go back to the lounge and face Seb. He seemed to be relaxing now, enjoying her company with all the confidence of a man who sensed he was on a promise, but the more he relaxed, the more tense she felt. She just didn’t know if she could control herself with him. If she managed to get him in a compromising position for the camera, how could she stop herself from going further? Just touching his hand had sent her shooting straight to boiling point. Two years of celibacy meant she was coiled tight as a spring, and this was easily the most magnetic man she’d ever met.

Angel went through to the en-suite and splashed cold water on her face in an effort to cool down. She stared at herself in the mirror, willing herself calm, cool, in control; fought the fluttering in her stomach and the bubbling in her nerves. Okay, she could do this…

Slicking on a fresh sliver of lipstick, she slid back through the glass panel to join Seb.

He’d taken off his suit jacket, which was now draped over the back of the sofa. He looked younger in just the white shirt – designer, she was guessing – and far less formal. He shot an approving glance at the loose auburn hair cascading around her shoulders as she walked towards him.

‘Sorry, it’s a pretty big tub. Could take about fifteen minutes to fill,’ she said, plastering on a bright smile. ‘More bubbly to go with your bubbles?’

Reaching out, he took her hand and drew her down next to him on the sofa. ‘Actually I think I’d like to learn more about this ancient art of reflexology,’ he said, his voice soft and low. ‘Maybe I can discover a few of these pressure points for myself.’

She could feel her nipples puckering underneath the skimpy bra as he shifted sideways to face her and cupped both her shoulders in his powerful hands.

‘For example…’ He brushed her hair back over her left shoulder, running gentle fingertips across her warm cheek and down her neck. ‘Here…’ He pressed a delicate kiss under her ear. ‘And here…’ He planted another in the curve between her neck and shoulder, this time letting it linger, leaving his hot, wet lips against her skin for a moment before pulling away. She sucked in her lower lip, stifling a gasp.

Responding on instinct to the warmth surging through her body, she allowed herself to do something she’d been longing to do all evening. She reached out and combed her fingers through his unruly curls, brushing them away from the handsome face. She brought her other hand up to trace the rigid contour of his jawline with her fingertips, felt the taut skin, the coarse sandpaper stubble, the sculpted lips she was longing to feel on hers.

‘We barely know each other…’

‘We both want this, Angel. We’re grown-ups. Does it really matter?’

In answer, she tilted her face up to his, mouth slightly open, inviting his kiss. He brought his lips down to meet hers, kissing her softly as her arms went up around his neck.

Angel felt her body spark into life as the kiss became deeper, hungrier. She parted her lips for him, giving him full access; relished the erotic embrace of his tongue with hers. He explored her mouth with expert skill, his arms reaching out to enfold her and draw her body in towards his.

She was half kneeling on the narrow sofa, her right foot on the floor and the other tucked under her thigh. Shifting a little, she hooked her right leg behind Seb’s so she could move in closer to him. She could smell the musk of his aftershave, distinctive notes of woodsmoke and chocolate. Drawing back from the kiss, she moved her lips down along the sinews of his neck and under the open collar of his shirt.

She pushed her body into his with a little sigh, crushing the breasts that begged to be released from their satin prison into his chest. To her delight, a small moan escaped him when he felt the press of her hardened nipples. He slid his hands down her back to her buttocks, pulled her right up against him.

She knew what he wanted. Bringing her other leg up from the carpet, she planted one knee on each side of his athletic frame, straddling him.

Angel lowered her body to meet his, gasping when she felt the hard arousal through his clothing. Feeling him pressing into her, ready for her, the last remnant of her self-control slipped away.

Seb’s fingertips were caressing her back with a delicate touch, tracing the lines of her shoulder blades before homing in on the fastening of her dress. Dragging the zip down, he slid the flimsy thing up her body and over her shoulders, helped her wiggle free and she sat astride his broad thighs in her underwear, too aroused now to feel embarrassed. He held her back from him for a moment while he scanned the creamy skin, the curves and undulations of her slim frame, and she felt his appreciation for her body stirring between her thighs.

He ran smooth, wet lips along her ears and neck. Pushing her upwards into a kneeling position until his face was level with her chest, she felt her body stiffen as his mouth found its way to the ripe swell of her breasts. He set them free, unhooking her bra and flinging it away to join her dress on the carpet.

She bit down on her bottom lip in appreciation as she felt him clamp his mouth first around one hard, pink peak, then the other, massaging gently with his tongue.

A gasp escaped her when he ran his palm down her body and began brushing a teasing thumb back and forth under the waistband of her thong with the lightest of strokes. Angel leaned forward to kiss him but he held her back, his keen gaze darting over her face to see the effect of his touch. He pressed her parted lips lightly with one fingertip, felt their moisture and the heat of her ragged breath.

His hand slid down further until it slipped between her legs. He groaned with pleasure, feeling the wetness he’d created there, how ready her body was for him. Firmly, rhythmically he moved his fingertips against her, circling and pressing with intuitive skill, smiling with satisfaction as her lashes flickered and her head fell back. She heard a low, soulful moan and realised it was coming from her.

Her brain was fogged now with a hungry need for him. She pressed herself against his hand, groaning as, insistent and unrelenting, he continued to explore her. White-hot climax simmered on the edge of every nerve ending. Oh God, she couldn’t hold it back any more…

No. Too fast. It was all happening too fast.

This was no good. She had to get him to the bedroom so Steve could get his pictures. Summoning her self-control and willing it through her body with a mammoth effort, she pulled away from the feverish, exploring fingers.

‘What about… your bath?’ she panted. She was surprised to hear how different her voice sounded, thick and dripping with lust.

‘You’ll join me?’

‘God, yes…’

He lifted her up and she twined her legs around his back as he carried her through the sliding glass panel into the bedroom.

The mirrored cupboard containing the hidden camera was right behind them when they entered. Aware of the great view Steve was getting of her rear, sliced by the tiny thong, Angel wriggled free of Seb’s strong arms. She grabbed one of the white cotton towels that lay folded on the bed and wrapped it around her.

This wouldn’t do. She was supposed to be seducing him, not the other way round, yet here she was in nothing but her knickers, breathless from his touch, while he was still fully clothed. Her backside alone certainly didn’t warrant a front-page story in the Investigator.

‘What are you doing?’ His voice was hoarse and heavy.

‘No more peep show for you,’ she heard herself say in a teasing tone. ‘Not until I get one too. Strip.’

Seb grinned at her. ‘Yes ma’am.’

He unbuttoned the white shirt, now crumpled and sodden, and tossed it to one side. The tight, bronzed skin underneath was gilded with sweat. It screamed out to be touched, stroked, licked. Angel held herself back with an effort, a spasm of arousal humming through her body.

Finally he peeled off shoes and socks, unbuckled his belt and slid off trousers and boxer shorts, allowing his rock-hard erection to spring free.

‘Now where’s my reward, Angel?’ he said in a low voice, coming towards her in the full, exquisite, quintessentially male beauty of his nakedness.