Claiming Magique: 1 by Tina Donahue Read Free Book Online Page A

shoulders, her nails raking his back as he
pounded into her, his balls tapping her body. Alexa wanted them in her mouth, her tongue sweeping each wrinkled sac and the dark
hairs dusting them.
    She hadn’t gotten the chance. Tim
awoke and joined them in the shower, followed by David. Spent from his climax,
Hunt watched as his friends took their turns with her, Tim anally this time. David vaginally. Hunt’s expression grew increasingly dark
and possessive.
    His desire for her thrilled Alexa and frightened her too. She didn’t want to belong to
any man. Love was too risky. Sex and having fun was all she trusted or craved.
    Hours later, when the three friends
had finally fallen into a deep sleep, she’d dressed and told Ronnie’s assistant
to wake the men in a half-hour, telling them to leave.
    With that, she’d departed and come
here.
    “You do like him,” Ronnie said,
breaking into Alexa’s thoughts. “ Which
means he really likes you. ”
    “No. It’s Magique he wants. Not me. And,” she interrupted Ronnie, “as far as I’m concerned, I
just wanted some fun tonight. I had it. It’s over. I’ll never see him again.”
     
    This was taking forever.
    Hunt should have been on his office
phone—given that he was in his office—working the aides of several senators and
reps. Instead, he had his cell practically glued to his ear as he waited on
hold for a guy Tim swore by.
    “Trust me,” Tim had said. “Flannigan
can find out anything about anybody. My father uses him all the time to screw
his competitors.”
    Screwing was the last thing Hunt had
on his mind, either physically or metaphorically. He wanted details. Magique’s real
name, age, where she lived, who she loved.
    He wasn’t about to ask himself why.
He didn’t want to go there.
    With the other women he’d known,
he’d had some great times, even dating a few of them for a while, and then he’d
moved on, going his way while they went theirs. No harm done.
    Somehow, when he’d awakened next to
Tim and David with no Magique in sight, just her
lingering musk and provocative perfume, a rush of sadness had come over him.
He’d felt lonelier than he had as a child when his mother had left him alone to
meet up with her latest boyfriend.
    It wasn’t a feeling Hunt relished.
So maybe that’s why he was going through all this shit. On the other end of the
line, Debussy’s Afternoon of a Faun played, the frothy instrumental
supposedly adding class to what the investigative service did.
    Come on. I’ve got work to do.
    Hunt sagged in his chair, its
top-of-the-line leather whooshing with his weight, the texture nearly as soft
as Magique’s skin. Only the best
for one of Givens and Strobe’s most successful lobbyists.
    Even after a few years at the top,
Hunt was still surprised at how far he’d risen , the
incredible opulence of his office. Mahogany bookcases stretched from floor to
ceiling, filled with legal volumes that weren’t necessary any longer.
Everything they contained was on the Internet. The physical books were all for
show and a reminder of the man who’d once claimed this space. Five years ago,
he’d died of a massive coronary from overwork, too much booze and maybe his
hunger for a call girl who’d turned his world inside out.
    Hunt sighed.
    Beyond the bookcases was a granite
fireplace the color of rum, the stone carved so that it looked like something
ancient and important. More granite flanked the entrance to this room, the
pillars sculpted to resemble Grecian columns. The best however was behind
Hunt’s desk. Five windows afforded a damn good view of the capital, especially
bewitching at night, the lights glittering like those on a Christmas tree.
    Debussy’s piece ended, followed by
his Claire de Lune.
    Hunt glanced at his credenza,
complete with a coffee maker, bottled water, fruit, pastries and bourbon if he
wanted it.
    Tonight, booze wouldn’t be enough.
He needed Magique .
    His body tensed, warmth pouring into
his groin,