Sure enough, the raven-haired beauty who’d taken up permanent residency in his mind was here in the flesh. She passed through the first red-velvet-roped entrance and approached the podium, where she handed over the invitation to the club he’d personally mailed to her last week.
Jane must have been tracking the comings and goings downstairs on her own computer, knowing Drake would want to be alerted the moment Shana arrived.
He had several minutes to watch her, as the line for admittance into the hedonistic hotspot was a long one and the process for allowing the guests inside was slow, due to the verification procedures the doormen were required to follow. Entry into Body Scenes was granted only when the invitation in hand was confirmed to be an original and the person who possessed it was indeed the individual specifically issued the coveted summons.
All of New York society was in hot pursuit of an invitation to the club, which featured extravagant murals painted on naked flesh, the erotic joining of body parts completing the sinful scenes. The popularity of the club wasn’t strictly regional, though. Drake received dozens of requests every week from international A-listers—celebrities, dignitaries, rock stars, politicians, Forbes’ millionaires and billionaires… Everyone who was anyone wanted a peek inside Body Scenes.
The club was only open one weekend a month and there were a number of regulars for whom he ensured access. For the most part, he was adamant about not allowing reporters or photographers in, though he’d made an exception when he’d issued standing admittance to trendy blogger and freelance writer Yvette Samson. She was avant-garde and a celebrity in her own right, after all.
Tonight he was bending his rule once more for Yvette’s colleague, Shana. The former musician turned journalist had become a web sensation over the years. She’d reportedly turned down a host spot on The View as well as an offer for her own prime-time talk show on HBO. She’d made a point of staying true to her online audience and Drake found her integrity as appealing as her curvaceous body.
She stood at the entrance to the club with Yvette, both women dressed to the nines, but in contradictory styles. Cutting-edge Yvette wore a strapless mini-dress in red, complementing her blonde hair and slim figure. Sophisticated Shana looked drop-dead gorgeous in a silver satin one-shoulder gown that featured a slit all the way up her shapely right leg. A visual that made Drake’s cock even stiffer than before, when he’d merely been ruminating over the prospect of Shana accepting his invitation to the club.
“Well,” Jane said as her gaze slid from the large screen to Drake, where he still sat at his desk. “You certainly know how to pick them. She’s sensational. Even more dynamic than I’d originally thought.” She uttered this last statement with awe in her voice. She reached for the back of a chair positioned in front of the tall hearth as though to steady herself.
“My reaction to Shana as well,” he said, not at all surprised by how caught off guard Jane was by Shana’s sultry appearance. Photos didn’t do the woman justice, he decided. And he was convinced a TV monitor couldn’t fully capture the vibrancy she naturally exuded. Actually, it was more than that. “She radiates a raw sensuality that’s nearly impossible to ignore. Even in photographs.”
Drake knew from personal experience through all that research he’d done. And he’d invested an exorbitant amount of energy and effort into keeping his distance from her these past several months. It was exhausting, but he was cognizant of the boundaries he needed to maintain. Inviting her to the club was the closest he’d ever get to her. He’d stay in his office tonight, as he always did, though this particular evening it’d be hell to hide up here when she was down there.
Jane gripped the chair a little tighter. “Pure animal magnetism,” she said in a low, throaty voice. So unlike her normal, cultured tone. “This woman has it in spades. She puts Sofia Vergara to shame.” Her chest rose and fell a bit faster, drawing Drake’s attention to her small, firm breasts. A perfect handful, he knew.
He was in desperate need of easing the sexual tension coursing through him and Jane’s response to Shana only exacerbated the problem. He didn’t miss the way her nipples puckered behind the shimmery, lavender camisole she’d paired with a snug, eggplant-colored skirt. His thumbs suddenly itched to sweep over her hard peaks, pebbling them further and making her moan.
A hint of desire made her bright eyes sparkle and her glossy lips parted slightly as her breathing grew more shallow than normal.
True, a vampire didn’t need excessive amounts of oxygen to survive, but there were still vital functions necessary to sustain the undead, despite what pop culture had to say about it. Even the slow beating of a heart was crucial to maintaining a vampire’s existence. How else would the blood they drank circulate through their systems and, in Drake’s case, give him the erection he had now?