How To Pleasure A Playboy

By: Talia Hunter



Lacey slipped them on and winced. “How do you even walk?”

“They’re not that high. Besides, I don’t actually go out in them. They’re for… special occasions.” Ally flushed, and Lacey rolled her eyes. Her friend had gotten married a month ago and had a permanent pink glow on her cheeks.

“Please don’t tell me about your sex life.” She bent to peer at the shoes. “At least they don’t have visible stains.”

“You look gorgeous. Just need one final tweak.” Ally adjusted Lacey’s dress, tugging the neckline lower so her cleavage — and her tattoo — jumped out. Then she slipped off Lacey’s glasses. Without them, everything was blurry. “There. Now you’re a sex bomb.”

Lacey grimaced. “Not sure about the sex part, but I don’t mind being a bomb. Hopefully I’ll get to blow up at Bronson Reyne.” She picked up her phone and typed a quick tweet, squinting at the screen.

Going to meet #PamperedPlayboy tonight and Save #TheBaxter. Leaving sharp objects at home! Wish me luck.

“Now I’m ready.”

Ally held up one hand. “Wait a minute. You’re not taking that bag.”

“Why not?” Lacey looked at her trusty leather hold-all. It wasn’t that bad, was it?

“Don’t you have a little purse?”

“I don’t see the point of owning a bag that won’t hold everything I need, and I can’t go out without my phone, keys, money, glasses, and lipstick. And I’m taking a hairbrush in case it rains and my hair goes frizzy. After all that effort to straighten it, be a shame if it springs back into a bird’s nest.”

Ally sighed. “Doesn’t go with the dress, but fair enough.” She grabbed her own bag and headed to the door. “You know I’d come if I didn’t have plans with Max. But it’ll be easier for you to ambush Bronson if I’m not there.”

“He won’t know what hit him,” promised Lacey, wobbling behind her in the red high heels. “If I don’t break my legs on the way.”





Two





Bronson Reyne went to the opening of his new Sydney nightclub with not one, but two women. Tina and Ellie were beautiful, and so what if their conversation made his eyes glaze over? The important thing was that they looked good getting out of his limo. He had a reputation to keep up.

He offered the women an arm each to escort them inside his club, and stopped to exchange a few pleasantries with the bouncers before going in. There were plenty of well-wishers who wanted to congratulate him, so it took a while to get to his private table.

The three of them had settled in with their drinks when he noticed the brunette in the red dress. She was carrying a ridiculously large bag and squinting over at his table as though there was something wrong with her eyes. But her breasts were spectacular.

“You know her?” Tina nodded toward the woman.

“Not yet.” Bronson took a sip of whisky, admiring the way her red dress skimmed the woman’s curves. She looked like she was plucking up the courage to come over, and he’d like to get a closer view of the tattoo peeking above her neckline.

Ellie leaned over to get Tina’s attention. “Did you hear about the casting for that new movie…?”

Bronson tuned their conversation out. The club was at capacity, and he was busy watching the bar, making sure the new staff were coping with the crowd. No doubt there’d be a few teething problems, especially because he hadn’t been able to move as many of his regular staff in as he would have liked. He’d also had to hire a new manager, but so far everything seemed to be running well enough. Profits should be substantial.

His table was in the perfect position. To the reporters covering the club opening, it would look like Bronson was sitting back enjoying himself. But from here he had a good view of everything, and was ready to step in if anything went wrong.

The song changed to one with a faster beat, and Bronson frowned. What was the DJ doing? This early, he should play a few favorites to get the crowd warmed up. He could slip into the heavier stuff later. Dammit, he’d have to go over and have a quiet word to the man.

“Hi.” The brunette in the red dress stopped in front of their table, shouting to be heard over the music. “You’re Bronson Reyne, aren’t you? Do you mind if I sit down?”

She sat without waiting for an answer, dropping her bag onto the floor next to her. Then she leaned forward to give Bronson an excellent view of what he could now see was a crescent moon tattoo with the word Moonstruck written inside it. When his gaze went back up to her face, she was frowning, probably assuming he’d been admiring her breasts. Which, to be fair, he had.

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