Body Shots (Masters of Pleasure 2)

Crystal walked around him and right out of the office. Trent was hot on her heels. “Uh, baby?”

“I heard voices,” she said. It sounded as if they were coming from the kitchen. As she stepped through the swinging doors, Crystal walked smack into an argument that seemed well underway.

A large man leaned against the counter. He looked a lot like Trent, only he was younger and somehow more mischievous-looking with the way his mouth kicked sideways in a roguish grin. Same dark hair, same piercing eyes. Beside him a beautiful dark-haired woman stood ramrod-straight, and another man, but much older, stood next to her with his arm wrapped around her. Crystal stared and listened to the woman berate the Trent look-alike. Whoever they were, it was clear they weren’t employees.

The woman was tall and statuesque in her beauty. And even though it was obvious she was older, she’d taken care with her creamy skin, which was smooth and clear. Her hair was her most striking feature. It was still a lustrous shade of brown, despite her age, and it flowed down past her shoulders. She was slim, though shapely. Crystal watched in fascination as Trent moved around her and started talking to the woman in hushed tones. She spoke to him as if he were a child, instead of a grown man.

Who on earth does this woman think she is?

When she heard the woman say something about the atrocious nightclub Trent owned, Crystal decided enough was enough. She cleared her throat and stood a little straighter, her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Excuse me.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on her and the room fell deadly silent. The older woman inhaled sharply as if shocked, the man standing beside her frowned disapprovingly, and Trent’s look-alike grinned wickedly. Trent’s smile wasn’t much different, except for the tiny hint of possessiveness lingering there.

Too late, it registered in Crystal’s mind exactly why everyone was so silent. She looked down her body and groaned. All she had on was Trent’s T-shirt.

Oh hell.

She hurried out, anxious to escape.

When she stepped back into the upstairs apartment, she glanced around the room. The bed looked as if a group of kids had played tag on it. It was a shambles. Hell, her clothes looked even worse than the bed. She went over to the heap and picked up what was supposed to be her dress. It was barely wearable, wrinkles making it obvious that it’d spent the night on the floor. “Yeah, like his guest

s hadn’t already figured that part out for themselves.”

Crystal stepped into her bra and panties, then slipped back into her dress. She smoothed out some of the wrinkles as best she could, before moving to the wall mirror. “Crap,” she grumbled. Everything about her screamed that she’d just experienced a long night of hot, raunchy sex. Then again, what did she care? She was a grown woman; she could do what she wanted. She didn’t need these people’s approval.

Crystal closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Opening them slowly, she attempted to keep an open mind as she gazed into the mirror this time. Yep, she was completely steeped in sex. Messy, frantic, lust-filled sex. A three-way, nonetheless. But she refused to feel bad. She hadn’t had a night like that in . . . well, ever. And it felt too good to let some unwelcome visitors spoil it for her.

She slipped into her way-too-high shoes and went back out to face whoever had seen it necessary to intrude on her little paradise with Trent and Mac. And just where was Mac? He was nowhere in sight. Would she ever see him again? She sighed, feeling worse and worse by the second.

Now that she was more awake, Crystal saw the scene in the kitchen from fresh eyes.

There was something about the couple. They were made of money. She could spot the type a mile away. Heck, the way she’d been raised, it was hard not to spot money. She’d been brought up in a poor household. The church-handout type of poor. Oh, her mother had tried, bless her, but nothing had ever kept them from being food-stamp poor. Her father was nonexistent, since he’d split the day he’d knocked up her mother. As Crystal had grown older, she had learned to be grateful that she’d been an only child. It wasn’t that her mother was lazy, but she was a single parent and the entire concept of money seemed to elude her. It disappeared as soon as she earned it. So Crystal practically lived in T-shirts and jeans . . . on a good day.

It was clear in Crystal’s mind that whoever was in Trent’s kitchen was, to put it mildly, rolling in it. It was in the clothes. The way the woman had held herself, regal and dignified. If that was the case, however, then why were they at Kinks nightclub?

A question that would soon be answered.

This time, when she reached the main floor, Crystal heard the arguing coming from the kitchen. It had increased in volume. She walked through the doors and was again face-to-face with the four of them. Crystal cleared her throat and was immediately the object of attention again. She’d never been a weak-willed woman, but with the four of them staring at her as if she’d suddenly grown three heads and sprouted wings, it was rather disconcerting. This time she was fully clothed, though, and she felt a bit more in control.

She gave Trent a look that said, Who are these people? He quickly stepped forward, taking her hand in his, and proceeded to introduce her.

“I’d like you to meet my parents, and the simpleton who cannot stop grinning is my brother, Josh.” Then Trent looked at his family and proudly announced, “This is Crystal Shaw.”

His mom, dad, and brother? Oh God, it couldn’t be. That would be too cruel. She was beyond humiliated. Crystal felt like crawling under a rock and never resurfacing. Her face felt like it was glowing with mortification. Actually, she knew it was because she could feel the damn heat rising off it. She could cook an egg on it at that moment. All she could do was look at Trent with pleading eyes. Just so he’d lead her to the nearest hole and let it swallow her up.

Trent winked at her in that roguish way of his and continued with his introductions.

“I met Crystal in the club last night. She and I hit it off rather well.”

Crystal was like a woman being led to the guillotine. She turned and looked at Mrs. Dailey, and to her astonishment the woman held out her hand. Crystal shook it with a nervous quickness that only punctuated her humiliation. That’s when Trent’s mother spoke to her.

“What do you do for a living, Crystal?”

She stuttered and stammered out her answer. “I’m an application developer.”

“I’d think that would be quite a demanding job. Quite professional and respected, no doubt.” She aimed the last part of her comment toward Trent, who stood frowning and looking very much the unruly child. “Do you enjoy your work?”

“It can get stressful, but I love it. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I had a boring job that kept my creative juices from flowing freely. Even though at times it can all be very routine, it’s still a great feeling when a project is completed, and knowing I had a hand in it is reward enough.” She was babbling. God, what must Trent’s mother think of her? Crystal definitely hadn’t given her a good first impression.