Watch Me
Shayla Black
Watch Me
Shayla Black
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Naughty Little Secret
About Shayla Black
Other Books By Shayla Black
Join Shayla Black!
ABOUT THIS BOOK
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To achieve her dreams, all she has to do is seduce the enemy…
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Shanna York was set to achieve her glittering ballroom dreams and become a dance champion—until her dance partner gets tangled up in scandal and blackmail. With the clock ticking and all her ambitions at stake, the last thing she needs is the gorgeous owner of a sex club tempting her with the forbidden. Or maybe that’s the very thing she needs…
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Alejandro Diaz has sizzled for Shanna since he set eyes on her months ago. Her repeated rebuffs will make her surrender that much sweeter. She’s ambitious and driven…but so is he. When she asks for his assistance to ensnare a voyeuristic blackmailer with a video fetish, he doesn’t hesitate to help her stage a bedroom trap. But neither is prepared to face scorching, endless passion, the blackmailer’s real identity—or the undeniable love that grows between them.
WATCH ME
Written by Shayla Black
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This book is an original publication by Shayla Black.
Copyright © 2007 Shelley Bradley LLC
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Cover Design by: Rachel Connolly
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eBook ISBN 978-1-936596-35-5
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by an electronic or mechanical means—except for brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews—without express written permission.
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eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away, as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
1
Who’d known it would only take two minutes, seventeen seconds to ruin her life?
Shanna York ejected the flash drive from her laptop, resisting the pointless urge to fling it across the room. Instead, she set it gently on the table beside her and stood.
Damn Kristoff! What had he been thinking?
Besides looking for inventive ways to get off, absolutely nothing. That was obvious.
Any hope of the life she’d worked and sweated for was over. Goodbye, California Dance Star competition, which she and Kristoff were favored to win in eight days. Adios, any chance of making World Cup Latin finals—something she’d been striving for her entire dance career.
Kristoff knew how important this season was to her. Knew it. She was twenty-eight—old by ballroom standards. He was the best partner she’d ever had, which was saying something. This year was their year; everyone said so.
All it had taken was one piece of footage recorded just last week—according to the date in the lower right corner of the screen—and a note with a scrawled Watch Me to shatter her dreams.
Sighing, Shanna closed her eyes and tried to think. But that only focused the drive’s every image into full Technicolor in her memory. Kristoff, tall and ungodly handsome, standing above two figures, one male, the other female. He cradled each of their heads in his hands as they knelt before him. Their tongues slid up and down his erection, licked over his balls, and occasionally met at the head of his cock for a juicy kiss.
“You like that big dick?” he asked. They both moaned. The camera zoomed in as the woman, a stunning blonde with a starburst tattoo on her breast, deep-throated Kristoff.
The other male, a buff guy with military short hair and his own raging hard-on, stood and licked at Kristoff’s nipples. Kristoff groaned, the sound soon drowned out by the man capturing his lips and devouring them in a harsh kiss.
That was the first thirty seconds—plenty depraved by the deeply traditional standards many ballroom judges held. Then came the middle of the clip…
Kristoff, intent and focused as he penetrated the woman’s sex, plunging in for slow, agonizing strokes. A surprise, given the fact Shanna had always believed he was strictly gay. But thrusting into the woman, he appeared like any other hetero man…until the camera panned back and showed the other man penetrating Kristoff’s ass, the forward momentum of that stroke pushing Kristoff’s erection into the panting female.
The end of the video, however, was what Shanna feared could really kill her dreams of being a ballroom champion. The other man, apparently at the end of his restraint, tore off his condom and stood near the woman’s sex as Kristoff so diligently pounded it. The man with dark hair watched them, yanking on his cock until semen shot out, coating the woman’s clit and wet folds. They all groaned.
Kristoff quickly pulled out of her, tugged on his erection, and came on the woman’s swollen sex, too. She dripped semen, oozed with the fluids of the men’s satisfaction. Was that enough for Kristoff? Of course not.
He grabbed the other man’s shoulders and forced him to kneel before the woman’s dripping sex beside him. Together, they licked her. Clean. Deep. Until she orgasmed against their dueling tongues. During the clip’s final moments, the camera panned back again to reveal that the trio had performed the entire scene for a rapt audience.
Shanna put her head in her hands and groaned. She was so screwed. If the conservative judges of ever-elegant ballroom dance got hold of this footage… The thought of what they could—and would—do to hers and Kristoff’s scores at the California Dance Star made her shudder. Nothing like going from first to worst in the standings.
Equally unnerving, watching the scene had more than vaguely aroused Shanna. Not that she was attracted to Kristoff—and definitely not after the position he’d put her in with this stunt. But the freedom to just let loose and fulfill her fantasies, particularly with people watching, flipped her switch way more than it should.
That had to stop. She must deal with the situation, somehow ensure this video didn’t fall into the judges’ hands. She must not think about her neglected libido.
Where was Kristoff, damn it? He had to have known that his recent jaunts to that damn sex club, Sneak Peek, would eventually come back to haunt them. She’d warned him. Clearly, he hadn’t heeded a word.
The door of her small dressing room burst open. Kristoff glided in. The graceful bastard moved like glass, especially on the dance floor, which was a treat after living with her father and three brothers: an Olympic sprinter, a world-class decathlete, a former champion weightlifter, and a pro football player, respectively.
They all considered her a failure because she’d never been a champion. By their definition, ballroom dancing wasn’t even a sport. Which made her a double loser.
This year, she’d intended to show them different.
With Kristoff’s night at that crazy sex club for exhibitionists and voyeurs, her dreams were gone.
“Three minutes, Shan. Are you ready?” Kristoff held out his hand to her.
Normally, that was Shanna’s cue to take it and follow his lead. Not tonight.
“To kill you, yes!” She held up the flash drive. “Obviously, your brain sunk into your pants. Could you not have waited to get your jollies for another few weeks?”
He frowned, looking totally unamused. “What do you talk of?”
“Your recent threesome at that club.”
Krist
off’s polished smile faded. “I was just, um, how do you say, blowing off a little steam. How did you know?”
“Someone filmed you and sent me the footage. Full color, high quality, great sound. No question it’s you, near a sign that said Sneak Peek.”
“Filmed me… I had no idea. And someone sent it to you?” he croaked. “You saw it?”
“Yes, along with a little note informing me that if we show up to the California Star, they’ll distribute the clip to all the judges. And you know what will happen then. We’ll have no chance in hell of winning.”
He cursed, a popular Angelo-Saxon syllable that started with an F. Shanna shook her head. He’d already done that, thanks so much.
“I agreed to take you as my partner for two reasons: You’re an amazing dancer, and I thought you were discreetly gay. Gay, the judges can handle. Discreetly gay, even better. Clearly, I was wrong about your orientation. And if the judges see this, your talent will no longer matter to them.”
Kristoff flushed. “I am, um…equal opportunity when it comes to sex.”
“I gathered that.” She gritted her teeth. “And it’s fine. I don’t care what you do in your private life as long as it’s private.”
“One minute!” someone shouted from the hall.
Squatting, Shanna peered into the mirror at her dressing table, secured a pin holding back a lock of her pale blond hair, then smoothed a hand down the silver sequins of her tiny costume. God, she felt sick to her stomach. All the years of sacrifice and work… If she wanted to win—and she did—she was probably going to have to start over. New season…new partner. Even the thought made her sick. She hoped her tumult didn’t show on her face.
“We have to go,” she said. “Or we’ll be late.”
“Stop! We must talk about this. Winning is important to me, too, and—”
“Champions aren’t late.”
“It does not matter. This a charity event, not a competition. And your dance card is empty, no?”
Ouch! Still, she lifted her chin, despite his low blow. “Not the point. People are still watching.”
“Not everything is work, Shan. Must you be so driven? Enjoy life a little.”
“I enjoy winning.” Her teeth hurt from grinding them together.
“Except for dance, you have no life. When did you last go on a date?”
“Are you keeping track?”
“I grow tired of your so-serious attitude. Maybe you need to go to Sneak Peek and um, how do you say, let loose like me.”
“We have the biggest competition of our careers in eight days, and you think I need to get laid?”
“Yes.”
Shanna tried not to see red—along with violet, crimson, and magenta.
Kristoff met her angry gaze squarely. “Until you smile and be nice, you are not fun to dance with. You will certainly make no money for the cause tonight in this mood.”
It might be uncharitable of her, but it was hard to think about someone else’s cause when her own was falling apart. And the fact that he took no responsibility for putting her in this mood really annoyed her.
“Go to hell, Mr. Palavin!” She made to stalk past him.
He grabbed her arm. “You are angry. I fucked up, yes. I am sorry. I know what this means to you. But no matter how much I apologize, no matter that we have become friends in the past year, will you forgive me? Stand by me? By tomorrow, I believe you will be holding auditions because everyone knows any partner who is a liability to your ambition is quickly replaced.” He grabbed the flash drive off the table. “There is a reason your dance card is empty tonight and everyone calls you the Bitch of the Ballroom. In the past, I have defended you, but now… Have a lovely time alone.”
“Are you staring at that ramera again?”
Alejandro Diaz ripped his gaze away from Shanna York and sent a rebuking stare to his dance partner. “Mamá, you’ve been listening to gossip. We do not know her well enough to know if she’s a bitch.”
But he’d looked at her enough to know he wanted her bad. Her soft blond hair shone under the lights like a halo around her face. Those blue, blue eyes projected a little-girl-lost quality that made him want to hold her close and whisper reassurances. But the fiery way she moved her killer body when she danced, like she performed sex to music, made him hard as hell.
Oh, he had fantasies about her—about taking her to Sneak Peek and melting away all that icy reserve by stripping her down, tying her up, filling her full of his cock…while she wondered if they were being watched. Would she get off knowing that others could see the rise of her pleasure and hear the gasps of her orgasms as he gave them to her, one after the other? The way Shanna danced lured men in, as if she loved having their eyes on her, as if she craved hot stares and knowing they had even hotter fantasies with her at the center.
How would she feel if she knew he harbored lots of fantasies about her?
His mother shook her head. “Hmm. You met her once. She was not polite.”
Not true. She’d been very polite, in an icy, reserved way. In retrospect, he’d come on too strong, been too direct. Clearly not the way to approach an independent woman who valued being in control.
“Tonight is another night.” He turned his mother around the dance floor in a gentle waltz. And he watched Shanna.
Her appearance lived up to her ice princess reputation in a short, silvery, barely-there costume of sequins and crystals. She was unsmiling and a bit aloof. He’d love to melt her.
“There are other single women here. Girls who are good. And Catholic. And yet you focus on the ramera rubia.”
“Mamá,” Alejandro warned. “You don’t know her personally. Just because she’s blond does not mean she’s a bitch.”
He sighed. He loved his mother and owed her much. As a single woman, she’d raised him with loving arms and a firm hand, since his father had left them just before Alejandro became a teenager. She hadn’t given him much in the way of luxuries as a kid, but she’d made up for it by providing all the affection and guidance he’d needed. As an adult, however, he realized she was incredibly old-fashioned.
“Spending too much time at that club of yours has confused your thinking, mijo. Nothing but putas there.”
Ali laughed. His mother didn’t disapprove of the club…but she only knew about the bar and pool tables, the dart boards and the dance floor. She had no idea what went on upstairs…. Better to keep it that way.
He made damn good money as Sneak Peek’s co-owner. Between that, his savings, and his other investments, he’d been able to buy his mother a condo and a new car, set up a trust for her, and give her a bit of luxury in the last two years. She just wanted him to settle down, marry, have babies. Mamá had made that very clear.
He would…in his own good time.
“Let’s not argue.” He twirled her toward the punch table, not far from where Shanna sat alone. As he looked at the gorgeous dancer again, he had to fight the rise of his erection. Not here, not now…but soon.
His mother followed the line of his sight. “Dios mío, can you not look at one other woman tonight?”
No. He’d come tonight specifically to cozy up to Shanna York. What a happy coincidence that making his mother’s night would help him to make his own.
“Mamá, did you sign up to dance with your favorites tonight?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Alejandro, it is too much money. You paid for me to be here, and that is enough. I will watch.”
And send a disapproving stare every time he rumbaed Shanna into a dark corner? Not truly enjoy herself? No.
“You will dance.”
He stopped her before the punch table and handed her a drink. While she sipped, he eased over to the table that held the dancers’ cards. There were still a few empty slots available to foxtrot or tango with some of her favorites. And Shanna’s card was completely empty. He wrote his mother’s name onto the empty spaces of the male dancers’ cards,
then he wrote his own on Shanna’s in every space. With a smile, he called the attendant over.
After settling dances for his mother, he handed the volunteer, a perky brunette, Shanna’s card. “I would like to purchase all these dances, as well.”
The brunette looked at it and frowned. “Hers? All of them?”
“Sí.”
“That’s three thousand dollars.” She pointed out with a hint of incredulity.
He handed her his credit card. “Then I will have the pleasure of knowing more children will have full bellies and be attending school, while I dance with a beautiful woman.”
The woman sent him a look that plainly said she thought he was unhinged. “She isn’t known for keeping her partners long. You may not last the whole night.”
For what he had in mind, a night was all he needed.
With a smile, he finished paying, then found his mother.
“The charity dances start in five minutes, and you will be busy.” He handed her a schedule of her partners.
“Alejandro! You spend too much money on an old woman. I cannot dance so much.”
“Mamá, you are barely fifty. It’s only money, and I can afford it. Enjoy yourself.”
He certainly planned to.
2
The event’s emcee announced the beginning of the charity dances, and Shanna poised herself in a chair, plastic smile in place, at the edge of the ballroom floor.
People around her were beginning to pair up for the first of the dances, names and smiles being exchanged. She tossed her hair off her shoulders. That twisting of her stomach was not a pang of hurt. She didn’t care if no one bid on her dances. Sitting back would give her an opportunity to observe her competition, since most of the other dancers were here…just in case she and Kristoff still had a chance to win, in spite of his indiscreet sex life.
