SeduceMe Read Online Free Page A

following—she’d turned down the
offers to headline her own talk show on network and pay-for TV. In her mind,
she was calm and collected. Sophisticated and savvy. In reality, however…
    Ugh .
    In reality , she was about as smooth as sandpaper. Too
timid to get in anyone’s face. Too apprehensive to probe deep enough to get the
answers she really wanted.
    Even if the chance presented itself to capture that Pulitzer
Prize-winning photo that confirmed Bruce Wayne was Batman, she’d have neither
the nerve nor the heart to exploit the opportunity. Especially when it came to
Drake Halston. Like the fictional character she paralleled him with, he clearly
chose to keep his life private, except amongst close friends.
    Every fiber of Shana’s being respected that decision. She’d
made the same one the day she’d signed papers that had legally changed her name
and helped her to put her classical music days behind her as she tried to
figure out who she truly was—who she truly wanted to be in the adult phase of
her life.
    So of course she’d follow all of Drake’s rules, even if it
killed her chances of a photo op. She wasn’t one to divulge secrets meant to be
kept. But if she could at least get a few revealing tidbits, she’d love to
feature his club on her site as a sexy addition.
    As she and Toliver worked their way through the crowd, she
wondered if Yvette had known she’d be extended this particular offer of a
backstage tour. Since she’d already caught Drake’s attention, according to
Yvette, she wondered if that was why her friend had dragged her to Prada the other
day and to the hair dresser this afternoon.
    While she liked the new chic style of her plump curls, Shana
felt packed into a too-sexy-for-her-body dress. She didn’t have Yvette’s
straight lines—she had voluptuous curves that put both J. Lo’s to shame. Unlike
Yvette, she didn’t have to purposely sway her hips. They did that all of their
own accord. Like Yvette, she noticed she turned heads as she walked with
Toliver, but Shana suspected it was only because the men in the club were
thinking she should have forgone the super-sexy silver dress and stuck with a
curve-forgiving black frock.
    Feeling self-conscious, however, was nothing new to her. So
she did what she’d done her whole life. She ignored the stares and focused
instead on the litany of questions forming in her head she’d like to ask her
gracious host this evening.
    When they reached the perimeter of the club, Shana noted the
mini-stages cut into the paneled walls. They were covered with crimson-colored
velvet drapes that looked elegant beneath the enormous, sparkling chandeliers
hanging overhead. The décor was upscale and posh, though the dance floor was
packed like a weekend rave.
    Yvette had warned her of the artwork that would be on
display shortly. She had no delusions about naked bodies being used as blank
canvases or how all the dots—er, body parts—were connected for the naughty
murals, but a soft gasp escaped her lips anyway as she entered the backstage
area. A woman covered from head to toe in turquoise paint stood in front of a
tall fan, one foot propped on an overturned milk crate as another woman
wielding a paintbrush whisked the coated bristles over the model’s bare pussy
lips.
    The model shivered. “Oh God,” she whispered. Her nipples
were large turquoise beads and her eyelids fluttered, revealing her arousal.
“That tickles. But in such a good way.”
    “You wouldn’t be the first woman to come during this part of
the process,” the artist told her as the brush stroked back and forth over the
exposed flesh.
    “I came when I saw the sketch for the mural and fantasized
about the two men and the two women I’d be starring in it with tonight.”
    Much to her shock, Shana’s own nipples puckered tight and a
tremor shimmied down her spine as an erotic visual popped into her mind. Two men and three women?
    Holy —
    She shook her head and squared her