CHAPTER ONE

 

Nikole Ari Parker's facial features alone were, in themselves, enough to excite most men. It was a thin, heart shaped face framed by long black hair that bobbed over her forehead. Her nose was long and delicate, thin as porcelain, and tipped upward, revealing her flaring nostrils. Her eyes were set wide apart and slightly tilted and her gaze was direct, frank, unabashed. Her chin could be described as pert, her mouth fleshy and broad, revealing dazzling white teeth whenever she smiled.

 

All of her teeth were capped and paid for by Caleb Hardman.

 

Hardman, dressed in his habitual trademark of all gray, stood behind her chair at that moment. Both he and Nikole were looking at a wall and a white projection screen that was silently and electrically lowering itself into position. It was lowering into position at Caleb's command. In another few seconds, he would flick a switch, and a panel in the opposite wall would slide open and a projectionist lens would focus itself. Caleb would turn a dial, the lights would lower, and a movie, in color, would be seen on the screen.

 

But, first, he had some other things on his mind. He wasn't worried about security; he had plenty of that. All the servants in the house could be trusted. He went to his ornately carved desk -- imported from Italy and once was used by none other than the Medicis -- and took something from the drawer.

 

Semi-concealing it in his hand, he walked back to Nikole and stood in front of her, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Nikole sat, cool and poised, an attractive young woman in a slinky dress that exposed her long slender legs and most of her firm young thighs.

 

Caleb took her in for a moment, took in her beauty and her voluptuous body. Just turned twenty one, she was in the prime of her life. Her waist was long and thin, gradually tapering up into her rib cage then blossoming (there was no other word) into large, ripely jutting breasts -- big as musk-melons, with provocative little shadows like half-moons, under them. Her hips were wide and liquid, telling you by the way she moved and walked that she had nothing on underneath other than panties. At the moment Caleb stood looking down at her, she didn't even wear panties.

 

Caleb knew this. Nikole never came to his home wearing any underwear. The young girl shuddered to think what he would do to her if she were to be so careless.

 

He stood smiling down at her, his face tanned, his features distinguished. His tan hid an alcoholic flush, for Caleb Hardman drank hard and long, and Nikole was truly afraid of him when he drank. Once past a certain point, he was capable of anything.

 

At the moment, he had yet to have a drink. It was still early afternoon. He looked down at Nikole sitting so sensually poised in the big leather chair and spoke quietly, with an easy authority, for he was used to being obeyed.

 

"Pull your dress up."

 

Nikole obeyed immediately, hiking her dress high, almost exposing the "V" of softly curling pubic hair that was half-buried up between her thighs.

 

"Pull it all the way up."

 

His voice was still quiet, and Nikole again obeyed, pulling the dress up so that it was around her waist, completely exposing the softly fleshed flanks of her naked buttocks and her pubic hair. She sat, feeling the cool leather against her warm skin, staring up at Caleb with an attentive expression on her pert, Gaelic-looking face.

 

The middle-aged financier pointed with one long manicured finger. "Put one leg over the arm of the chair."

Nikole only hesitated a second, blinking, before she obeyed, swinging one long leg up and over the arm of the chair. With a barely audible sigh, she sunk back in the chair, her eyes almost glassy, looking up at Caleb with an expectant, almost depraved expression on her face.

 

Caleb looked down at her so obscenely posed. He saw her strong curving thigh and the smooth, milky white inside of it, and his eyes raced down to her loins with its sparse black pubic hair. He took in her roundly panting mound of Venus and the way her fluted vaginal lips -- ragged and flushing under her pubic hair -- were beginning to swell and form themselves in a lust-pucker already. Her entire cuntal slit was exposed, allowing a tantalizing glimpse of the pink lining of her pussy walls that were already beginning to glint with the hot moisture of sexual excitement. Near her mound of Venus, at the top of her slit, bulged the nub of her clitoris.