Eternally Seduced: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set Read online

  I cleared my throat. “Yes?”

  “Stop worrying.”

  I bit my lip. “But---”

  “Don’t you know what people say about Vegas?”

  George piped in, “I do.”

  Constantijin smiled, the secretive and wickedly playful kind that I loved so much it could actually make my heart ache. “Then please, George, do the honors.”

  My so-called friend gave me a solemn look. “Yanna---”

  “George,” I said warningly. I had a nasty feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

  He said with sham innocence, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

  Lesson #8

  The way to an (ordinary) man’s heart is through his stomach.

  The way to kill a billionaire’s erection is through his heart.

  Lunch was such a shitty affair, mostly because George and Constantijin were totally determined to gloss over the fact that we were doing something completely inappropriate. Or rather – Constantijin and I were doing something utterly bad.

  George kept cracking jokes throughout lunch and even though I was so very tense at the fact that Constantijin and I were staying at the same hotel, I couldn’t help laughing at all my friend’s quips. I had to give it to George. When he wanted to be funny, you better be ready to double over.

  Constantijin was just as bad – in a different way. He took every chance he could get to flirt with me, tucking my hair behind my ears, holding my hand underneath the table, and he kept looking at me like he was dying to get me behind locked doors and have his wicked way with me.

  Between the two of them, I totally felt like I was trapped in some kind of kinky Twilight Zone and I was being set up to lose my virginity this very night. A crack in our perfectly flirtatious world appeared when the waiter returned with our orders. George had his usual clubhouse sandwich and juice, Constantijin had ordered some kind of Greek soup, while I had my very own feast – and I meant that, like, literally.

  When I saw the laughter in his gaze as he took in what I had ordered, I said defensively, “I didn’t get to have breakfast!” And it was true – technically. I mean, a tiny bowl of cereal was not really breakfast, right?

  He threw his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything!”

  As he ate a spoonful of his soup, I couldn’t help comparing it to my plate of salad, barbecued chicken in java sauce, large helping of mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and a healthy serving of cream of mushroom.

  “You can’t seriously be eating just that?” I burst out, seriously upset. I felt like such a pig next to these two.

  Constantijin appeared surprised at my outburst. “I already had breakfast and lunch, so this was the only thing that appealed to me.” Then he smiled. “But don’t mind me. You and George enjoy your lunch.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” George said, who was already on his second sandwich.

  I so envied him.

  Constantijin frowned. “Is anything wrong?”

  “I think I’ve lost my appetite,” I lied glumly even though my stomach immediately let out a silent but tangible grumble of protest.

  A look of disappointment crossed over his face. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who can’t eat in front of a man.”

  I made a face. “You’ve seen how I eat.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “It’s because you’re eating too little,” I admitted helplessly. “You make me feel like a glutton--” I stopped speaking at his grin.

  “Is that the only thing bothering you?” At my mournful nod, he said, “Will it help then if I told you that on the way here I went to a drive-thru and ate two Big Macs? And for breakfast, I had double pancakes and a hash brown?”

  I thought about it and finally smiled. “Yes.” I picked up my fork and knife again.

  Constantijin burst into laughter, and so did George.

  “What?” I wailed, but I was smiling, too, mostly because it had been a long time since I saw Constantijin acting this carefree.

  After our meal, the three of us agreed to meet by the pool an hour later. Or rather, George and Constantijin made the arrangements and I sort of found myself nodding in agreement. But all my doubts returned in full force after Constantijin walked us back to our suite.

  “I’ll be a hundred dollars richer by the end of the weekend,” George crowed.

  “He’s just flirting with me,” I said, trying not to let George’s optimism get to me. “It’s nothing serious. He doesn’t have anything to do, doesn’t have anyone to talk to---”

  He snorted. “Do you really expect me to believe that? One: he’s a billionaire. Why is he spending his vacation here in Vegas when he could have gone to Ibiza, Maldives – or even the freaking North Pole?” He flicked his second finger. “Two: I’m not blind, Yanna. I’ve seen how he looks at you. If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you two had totally played footsie---”

  I tried my very, very best not to blush.

  George let out a strangled gasp.

  I so totally failed.

  “OMFG, you did that already, didn’t you? You are so bad!”

  “It’s not what you think,” I protested even as I blushed harder at his sly gaze.

  George doubled over in laughter. “Oh, you so did.” Wiping tears of amusement from his eyes, he murmured, “He likes you, Yanna. Trust me.”

  I threw myself on the bed, bouncing on my back as I did. “You don’t understand, George. Have you forgotten who he is? Alyx told me he’s the Netherlands’ #1 Playboy.”

  “So?”

  “He’s one of the Three Pussketeers.”

  “So?”

  I growled, “He can’t be serious with me, that’s so!” Peeking at George, I was shocked to see that he didn’t appear worried at all.

  “Yanna,” he said patiently, “that may all be true, but it just means one thing. You simply have to work harder to make him serious with you.”

  Easier said than done, I thought with a silent grumble as the two of us went down to the poolside half an hour later. He was Constantijin Kastein – a man who might as well have descended from Helen of Troy, with a face that could launch a freaking thousand 747s. And I was just Yanna Everleigh, a twenty-four year old hopeless romantic who had been recently introduced to the illicit pleasures of (almost) sex.

  If someone was going to do some convincing, it would no doubt be Constantijin, tempting me to forget all about my inhibitions and just give my virginity away like a freaking lottery prize.

  It wasn’t hard to spot Constantijin even with all the bare-chested men around. You just had to follow the trail of sighs, giggles, and whispers and there you had it – Constantijin, wearing a pair of black board shorts that rode sinfully low on his hips. His abs, the muscled V that tapered down under his board shorts, and the chiseled perfection of his face---

  Oh my God, if I wasn’t a die-hard virgin, I would have begged him to take me.

  Leaning against the bar, elbows propped on the counter, Constantijin scanned the area with obvious impatience. I jerked when he suddenly turned towards my direction, as if he had some sort of sixth sense when it came to my presence. It stole my heart, it really did, and it successfully eroded my No to Relationship-less Sex beliefs by another inch.

  His eyes burned bright as he stared at me from head to toe, his gaze moving ever so slowly like a visual caress that had me shivering in my modest two-piece.

  We met halfway, and Constantijin’s arm immediately curved around my waist, the possessiveness in his hold unmistakable. I was thrilled at his touch, more so when he whispered to my ear, “You look so fucking hot I want to lock you in my room so I can take you for days.”

  Same here, I thought with a secret grimace. So totally the same for me, especially with all the women around us staring at him with unconcealed lust.

  We walked towards the nearest available lounge chairs, George occupying one and Constantijin joining me on mine. As Georg
e started chatting with the guy next to him, I could feel Constantijin’s gaze follow my every movement.

  “Allow me,” he said huskily from behind when I took out a bottle of suntan lotion from my bag.

  “Constantijin.” It was a very weak protest, and we both knew it.

  He didn’t bother answering. I heard the clicking sound of the bottle’s lid being opened, the squirt of lotion being released, and then suddenly his hot hands were smearing the cream all over my back.

  Even though he was kneading the muscles in my back beautifully, like an expert massage therapist, I couldn’t make myself relax. And when I felt his fingers touching the undersides of my breasts, I couldn’t help it. I instinctively turned around and slapped his hand away.

  “What the---” Constantijin glowered at me. “I swear, Yanna. What is it with you and your tendency to slap?”

  “It’s your fault,” I burst out. “You keep taking me by surprise.”

  “Can’t you just say ‘oh my God’ like a normal girl?”

  I flushed. “Well, sorry if I’m not like those normal girls---” I coughed ‘bimbos’ under my breath. “---you date.” I got to my feet, more than a little mad, hurt, and jealous at how he had so unfavorably compared me to his battalion of former lovers.

  “Yanna, come back here,” he gritted out.

  “Never,” I muttered, stalking off.

  “Yanna, I’m warning you---”

  “Sorry, you’re not my CEO right---” I let out a shriek as I found myself flying and hitting the water a few moments later. I came up thrashing. Gasping for breath, I couldn’t believe someone as supposedly well-mannered as Constantijin Kastein had actually pushed me into the pool.

  I whirled around at the sound of his laughter.

  “You---”

  He laughed harder.

  My rage died at the look of genuine amusement on his beautiful face. During the times I was able to watch Constantijin unobserved at our workplace, he was always charming and beautifully mannered, soft-spoken and smiling. But I had never seen him this happy.

  Oh, oh, Lord. I was so in trouble with this guy. He made me want to protect him and care for him, which was a ludicrous idea considering he was a foot taller than I was, heavier by a stone, and billions of dollars richer.

  “Yanna?” Feeling the movement of water as he walked towards me, I twisted my head around askance and his lips immediately caught mine. Ah. My Dutch billionaire had gotten the better of me again. I gasped against his lips, but that only made Constantijin chuckle before deepening his kiss. The kiss was hot and wet, a carnal encounter between our mouths that had me silently moaning and wishing we weren’t in such a very public place.

  I could only stare at him by the time he lifted his head, shocked at how my body still ached for his touch even though I could feel the pointed glares of other women around us. I couldn’t blame them. If I were in their shoes, I would have been envious after our extreme bout of PDA.

  But Constantijin didn’t seem to be aware of how every woman within five meters was staring at him hungrily. He only had eyes for me, and that, too, was effective in eroding my inhibitions by a few more inches. If I didn’t put a stop to this, I could find myself raping him in the end.

  His eyes blazing with need and desire, he said, “Let’s swim, Yanna.”

  Oh, let’s, especially when he said the words like he was saying “let’s fuck” instead.

  Only a few couples were in the water with us, and all of them occupied the shallower end of the pool. Constantijin started to laugh when he saw me clutching the sides of the pool the moment we reached the five-foot mark.

  “Don’t you know how to swim?”

  “I do,” I said haughtily. At his knowing look, I grumbled, “But I don’t know how to float.”

  He laughed harder. “You are too adorable for words, schat.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Adorably pathetic, you mean?”

  He grinned but said nothing. I watched him shake his head a bit, fascinated at how several locks of his hair showered droplets of water on his broad shoulders. It made me want to lick every drop until he was dry and dripping for another reason.

  I closed my eyes. You are such a bad girl, Yanna.

  When I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me, “Yanna, hang on to me so we can go further?”

  Blinking rapidly at what he was suggesting, I stammered, “I…I…”

  “Come on, it will be fun.” And then he was slowly pulling me away from the edge. I thought he meant I should ride piggyback style while he floated for us both, but apparently, he had something else in mind – something that had me aroused again in seconds.

  Constantijin took me in his arms, arranging my legs around his waist.

  In my mind, I heard my imaginary version of George chortling. What happens in Vegas – stays in Vegas.

  This time, I totally agreed with him.

  Constantijin gazed at me challengingly, as if waiting for me to protest. When I put my arms around him instead, moving close so that my breasts brushed against his chest, he sucked in his breath in shock.

  The look in his eyes was pure heat, and I wrapped my legs around him more tightly. It made me shift against him, and his cock rose against me, demanding entrance past the tiny blue triangle that served as my bikini bottom.

  “You’re so close to being fucked,” he whispered.

  “Am I?” I whispered back, drunk from the heady sensations that his body, his touch – his very presence evoked. My voice actually sounded a bit slurred when I spoke. Oh, yes, I was so drunk – intoxicated with the passion that never failed to erupt between us.

  I wriggled my hips under the water, biting my lip when I got what I wanted, his cock practically pushing against my core.

  His eyes widened, and his warning came out unsteady when he spoke, his fingers digging hard in the softness of my butt. “Yanna. Stop playing with fire.”

  So, so drunk, I thought, still caught in a sensual haze of his doing – and mine. There was no need for wine. I just had to look at Constantijin’s nearly naked form – be overexposed to it for more than five minutes, and I was totally undone.

  Just this one night, I promised to myself. Surely in this century my unknown Mr. Right wouldn’t care that someone else had taken my virginity? If he did, then he wasn’t Mr. Right, after all.

  Constantijin’s gaze was trained on my breasts, which bobbed in the water every time I moved.

  Giggling, I bent lower towards Constantijin, wanting him to see more.

  Oh God, I was so, so drunk.

  His face darkened with desire, his fingers cupping the undersides of my butt as if in reflex. “Yanna, don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I fluttered my lashes at him.

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start something you can’t – won’t - finish.”

  I dropped the proverbial penny. “Who says I won’t?”

  Constantijin had hauled both of us out of the pool in seconds and I found myself being literally carried away.

  “Constantijin,” I gasped, totally not drunk anymore as I could feel everyone around us gaping. Someone – George probably – even whistled.

  He didn’t answer, striding purposefully toward the nearest elevator. It opened almost on cue when we reached its doors, and he stepped inside, still carrying me in his arms. Constantijin didn’t seem to notice the increasing number of wide-eyed looks pointed our way, but I did.

  “Let me down,” I hissed, trying to struggle out of his hold without being too obvious about it. My heart beat madly all the while, an instinctive response to the deep and burning passion that Constantijin was visibly struggling to hold in check, his body positively vibrating with sexual tension.

  “Stop moving or I swear I’ll take you right here,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

  I stilled.

  “Do you know,” he asked in a guttural voice that made his words almost incomprehensible, “how much I’ve been thinking of you – how I can’t get to work th
e moment I let my mind be completely consumed of thoughts of your hot little body?”

  I was so, so wet by the time he finished speaking.

  One part of me questioned what I was doing. What the hell did true love have to do with all this? But the other part of me was rejoicing in my decision, of finally being free from all the inhibitions and just being able to indulge.

  Did Vegas do this to me – get rid of my inhibitions all at once so I could finally know what it was like to have sex with Constantijin? Or was it that my subconscious had only been waiting for a scapegoat, and Vegas was exactly that – a reason to excuse the inexcusable?

  In the end, it didn’t matter.

  I wanted him. He wanted me.

  Constantijin took me to his room, which was – unsurprisingly – the hotel’s penthouse suite. But I didn’t really have time to look around, not when Constantijin was kissing me wildly the moment we entered his room.

  His kiss sent my head reeling again, so much that I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and totally hadn’t a clue about what I should do. “Wait,” I gasped against his mouth, close to panicking.

  “Relax,” he muttered as his mouth descended, leaving little kisses on my neck as he did. “Let me take care of everything.”

  And then the phone in his room rang. It was hard to ignore, but both of us did our best. It let out a loud beep, followed by a familiar tone that told me the call had been transferred to his voice box.

  “Baby, it’s me, Selena. I heard you were in Vegas? I am, too. I’m naked and hot---”

  Buzz kill was the polite word for it as Constantijin sprang from me, cursing in Dutch – or at least I thought it sounded like cuss words – and stalking towards the phone. He tore it out of its socket and threw it on the cushion. One part of me was taken aback by the rage in his actions, but another part of me was coldly indifferent to it.

  Too freaking late, my Dutch playboy billionaire.

  Just too freaking late.

  He turned to me, hand outstretched. “Yanna---”

  I avoided his touch.

  His eyes darkened. “Don’t. You know you can’t blame me for her call. I haven’t had sex with another woman since I met you.”