The A-List Collection. Victoria Fox

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with me.’

      ‘I’ll bet,’ he choked. Hurriedly he gave her the address.

      After a moment she said, ‘I’ll be there. And, Jimmy?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Don’t keep me waiting again.’

      Later that afternoon Chloe arrived at the Bel Air mansion, her trademark hair tucked under a Yankees cap and dark glasses obscuring her face. She buzzed the gates and was let in immediately, making her way up the massive drive towards the house. Palm fronds rustled in the warm spring breeze, their shapes reflected in a sheet of curved glass at the front of the building.

       Kate’s got the right idea, she thought. Make sure you see ‘em coming.

      Jimmy met her at the door. He was not as handsome as she remembered, thinner and with less hair, but nevertheless the attraction she’d felt at Harriet’s remained. His brown eyes sparkled with promise.

      ‘Good to see you,’ he said with a crocodile grin. ‘Come in.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She stepped inside, pulling off her cap and tossing her raven hair loose. Her jacket peeled away to reveal tight black jeans above a pair of wicked-red ankle boots, and a tight lead-grey top displaying plenty of cleavage. Jimmy’s eyes raked over her.

      ‘You look good,’ he said throatily.

      Chloe made her way slowly and casually round the expansive hall, running a finger over the surfaces, pausing here and there to touch vases, ornaments, an antique china figurine carrying a basket of what looked like eggs, or potatoes, she couldn’t tell which.

      So this was what it was like to be the other woman. As she bent to examine a family photograph, smiling faces on a beach somewhere, Jimmy’s pale chest alongside his wife’s golden tan, she realised what the overriding feeling of it was: it was one of power.

      ‘You’re sweet,’ she said in an echo of his words at Harriet’s dinner party. She turned to face him. He wondered how long it would take to get her knickers off.

      Jimmy realised his palms were sweating. He’d brought plenty of girls back to the house, but none who took it in with such concentrated interest as Chloe French. He remembered her differently, as more shy, more timid somehow. They needed to get down to business–this was making him nervous.

      ‘Where’s Kate?’ Chloe asked, crossing her arms. Jimmy observed the generous curve of her breasts as she turned to one side.

      ‘At a meeting,’ he said gruffly. Then he added, a sparkle in his eye, ‘I’ll have the place to myself a fair bit, she’s in London this week.’

      Chloe raised an eyebrow. ‘Looks like we’ve done a swap.’

      There was a long silence. Jimmy gulped. ‘I’ll fix us a drink,’ he said, not wanting to continue this particular line of conversation. ‘Cocktail?’ He moved towards the kitchen.

      But Chloe was quick. Silent and agile as a cat, she leapt, pushing him up against the wall.

      ‘Forget the tail,’ she purred. ‘I can think of something else I’d rather get my mouth around.’ With one hand she unzipped his jeans.

      Jimmy was delighted. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her towards him, running his hands over her ass, kissing her sweet red lips. He heard her gasp as she freed his hard-on, her touch trailing the length of it, shocked, as all ladies were the first time, at the size of him.

      He plunged his tongue into her mouth, taking her chin in his hands and moving against her, sliding through her fingers, feeling her grip tighten. She tasted of strawberries, fragrant and sugary. With a fist he clenched a knot of her hair, smooth as a river of black silk, and all he could think about was having its softness wrapped around his dick, taking him all the way.

      ‘Stop.’ Jimmy forced himself to ease her off. ‘Not yet.’

      He kissed her again, feeling for her breasts, pleased to find she wasn’t wearing a bra. Tucking his hands beneath her top, he stroked her soft, ripe skin, feeling the shape of her, the hard peaks of her nipples. She moaned and threw her head back, exposing her long white throat. Sliding her top up he peeled it over her arms, revealing a pair of luscious, all-natural tits crowned with delicious pink. He bent his head to taste them, taking one between his teeth and biting gently till it stiffened. With both hands he tugged down her jeans, slipping a hand past her knickers and into a soft nest of hair, plunging two fingers into the tender fold.

      She gasped, pushing herself on to him, kissing him, sucking his bottom lip, slick with desire. Riding against him, she felt the hot swell in her gut, rising like an unstoppable tide, bringing her to the point of no return. She raised her knee to bring him further, faster, deeper, then more of him entered her, plugging her in, until the wave crashed down and, panting, she climaxed with a shriek.

      When Jimmy could bear it no longer, he withdrew his hand and applied a little pressure to the back of Chloe’s head. Obligingly she sank to her knees, her lips parting to receive him. As the majority of his cock vanished into her mouth, she let out a strangled groan. He cradled her and drew himself in, ploughing on with grim determination. Lights flashed before his eyes and he shouted out, cresting the swells of unadulterated pleasure, one after the other. On he thrust, his cock aching with the promise of release, till she was pushed back, her palms flat on the floor. With a final choke he came fiercely, his heart thumping in his ears; his breath coming in short, sharp rasps.

      Neither of them heard the car pull up outside, or the front door close with a slam.

      It was still dark.

      Stealth-quiet, Lana opened the bathroom window, just big enough to fold her body through, and dragged an overnight bag after her. On her feet only the soft pad of socks. Above, the sky blushed plum with the arrival of dawn.

      She shimmied along the narrow ledge that ran across the back fence, crouching beneath the radar of Cole’s security cameras–after years living with them she knew exactly their sight lines and trigger points. She wasn’t getting caught out again.

      Cole’s perimeter was alarmed, activated at contact. She held her breath and threw her bag over, waiting for the soft thump of its impact, praying it wouldn’t arouse the night watch.

      It didn’t. For a while she hovered on the precipice, not daring the make the next move. Beyond the fence was an oak, just within reach if she pushed off her toes and hit it exactly right. Feeling for its limbs, grasping its tough bark, she made the leap. As she embraced the coarse wood, she waited again for the alarm to sound, the dogs to snarl.

      Silence.

      For seconds she stayed clinging to its trunk, before catching her breath and carefully dropping to the ground. A spray of water caught her off guard, a lawn sprinkler, and she bit hard to stop herself crying out. Realising what it was, she unzipped her bag, slid on her sneakers and ran, half laughing, half stumbling, away from the grounds.

      By the time Cole realised she was gone she’d already be on a plane, halfway across the Nevada desert.

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