Christa Read Free Page B

the work of a plastic surgeon consisted of meeting the fantasies of neurotic rich women, and while there was an element of that, a lot of his work was more about healing those with disfigurements from surgery or accidents, as well as birth defects.
    But he never looked down on or felt contempt for women and men who came to him wanting to look younger and, in their minds, better. He knew from long experience that being watched was an experience of extreme vulnerability for most people. The watcher was powerful, while the one being watched was exposed. He did what he could to make those who wanted to feel confident in their exposure satisfied.
    Christa nodded at something the crashing bore said. God, that dress was designed to get every man in the room hard. Shifting colours of sea green, it clung to her curves, giving the impression of transparency. With her raven black hair and green crystalline eyes with their exotic curve, she looked like a gypsy princess.
    He noticed Daniel Hiddleston, the rugby league star, send an approving glance Christa’s way. His partner, Jorja, raised her eyebrows when he turned back to her. He shrugged his shoulders and looked sheepish at being caught out. Jorja shouldn’t worry. They had a rule never to play with anyone too close to their circle of friends. The Double D Club was strictly out of bounds. A pity sometimes. The sight of that solid wall of masculine power fucking his wife while he watched would be quite an experience. Not to mention the delectable Jorja going down on her.
    He glanced at his watch. Elizabeth Underwood hadn’t arrived. After Christa’s retelling of their back street encounter, he was impatient to meet her again. His first impression of her had been right after all. He’d been out of his mind with boredom at some stuffy business function that one of his partners had dragged him to where she was the guest speaker. He saw she was beautiful and smart, but when he was introduced to her after the lunch he’d picked up a frisson of something else. Something a little perverse and hidden. Then she’d shut it down and he thought he’d imagined it.
    Nella Pouache glided past him. He acknowledged her shy smile with a nod. Now there was a woman who had perversity down to a fine art. He didn’t know what her brand was, but he recognised a fellow traveller when he saw one. Not that what Christa and he indulged in was perverse by today’s standards. No chains, whips, candle wax or other pain-inducing props for them. Maybe some light bondage and some sex toys, but the main game was The Gaze. He liked to watch and she liked to be watched. Their mutual need was the foundation of their successful marriage.
    The group Christa stood with broke up as she excused herself to welcome more guests. Marc’s pulse kicked up as he recognised Elizabeth Underwood, looking nothing like the sleek businesswoman he seen at the business function. She had some kind of dark blue sparkly dress on that covered her from neck to knee. But when she turned to pick up a glass of champagne, he saw it was completely backless. And what a back. Golden and smooth. An image flashed into his mind of that back bent over Christa, pleasuring her while his seed splattered over Elizabeth, marking her. He smiled to himself.
    Christa manoeuvred Elizabeth away from the other guests and over to him.
    â€œI know you two have met before under very different circumstances,” Christa said.
    â€œVery different,” Elizabeth said, with a smile. “I’m afraid I was a contributor to a terribly boring lunch that your husband had to endure. My apologies. My only excuse was jet lag. Never again will I agree to speak at a lunch when I’ve just arrived back from Europe.”
    â€œYou weren’t boring. My companions were, but you were fine.”
    â€œKind of you to say.”
    Her icy blue eyes watched him as she sipped her champagne. He held her gaze and smiled slow and