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  SATISFACTION

  The Collection

  Includes Satisfaction Guaranteed, Perfectly Satisfied, and Finally Satisfied

  by Tori Scott

  Copyright 2011

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold, copied or redistributed without the express written permission of the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Discover other titles by Tori Scott

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  Lean on Me

  Blame it on Texas

  Lone Star Justice

  Superstition

  SATISFACTION GUARANTEED

  By

  Tori Scott

  Book One of the Satisfaction series of Novellas

  (Cara and Gray)

  SATISFACTION GUARANTEED

  CHAPTER ONE

  "You have got to be kidding. Reggie, I don't think I can do this." Caramia Kensington stared at her best friend, wondering how Reggie had gotten mixed up in this crazy idea. "It doesn't feel right."

  "Come on, Cara. It’s for Sam. Cut him a little slack, would you?" Regina Baker faced Cara, hands on her hips, looking like she was ready to do battle on Sam’s behalf.

  "That’s what is making me so uncomfortable. Setting up a seduction scene for a stranger is one thing. But Sam? He's almost like my brother."

  "And exactly why you should go all out on this one. Spare no expense. Sam can afford it, and he deserves it."

  "And this doesn’t bother you at all?" Cara had always thought Reggie had a thing for Sam, but she maybe she was wrong.

  Reggie shook her head, making the crop of short red curls bounce around her face. "Nope, not at all. Unless the woman breaks his heart. Then I’d be upset. Besides, Sam and I are just buddies. He has no interest in me."

  Cara noticed Reggie didn’t say she had no interest in Sam, but she let it slide. She knew all about unrequited love. She lived with it every time she ran across Gray Montgomery with one of his tanned, athletic blondes hanging on his arm.

  Cara sighed. "Fine. I’ll take Sam’s job. And you’re right. He can well afford anything I come up with, so I’ll do it up in style and charge him accordingly. Maybe he’ll pass the word along to his rich friends."

  "You never know. He's referred me to a few people. Here, I have a list of his preferences--food, drink, music--that you can either choose from or do some of everything." She handed Cara a sheet of paper, and pulled another one from her back pocket. "And this is what he wants in lingerie and the woman's size. He's leaving everything else to your discretion."

  "Since he already knows the size, I guess he has a woman in mind already." Cara looked over the lists and whistled. "He didn't happen to include a sizable deposit check, did he?"

  "As a matter of fact…" Reggie dug into her front pocket and handed Cara a check. "He said to let him know if you need more."

  When she unfolded the check, Cara's eyes widened. "I think this will cover it. Tell Sam I said thank you."

  "I will." Reggie hugged Cara. "Gotta run. Hot lunch date."

  Before Cara could even say good-bye, Reggie was out the door and out of sight. Oh well, Cara had a lot of planning and shopping to do before Sam's big night. She glanced at the list for the date of the big event. The night before her birthday. That would work out well. She'd have money in her pocket and the job completed before her birthday rolled around.

  She’d ask Reggie to help with the cleanup on Saturday and then maybe they could find something fun to do to celebrate. She could always count on Reggie to be there for her, no matter what. They’d had each other’s back since kindergarten.

  There was a time when they'd all been inseparable--Cara, Gray, Reggie, and Sam. They'd been the three Musketeers until Sam had joined them in third grade. His arrival had changed the dynamics a bit, but they'd adjusted and made room for the poor little rich kid who'd never had a friend before he found them.

  Reggie was right. Sam did deserve the best, and Cara was going to make this set up spectacular.

  But if Gray ever asked her to do this for him, she'd kill him. Reggie was being a lot more open minded than Cara would be in the same situation.

  ***

  Cara glanced around the lush hotel room and let out a sigh that was one part satisfaction and two parts jealousy. Satisfaction in a job well done. Jealousy that the only thing she’d get out of it was a paycheck.

  She’d created a seduction scene fit for a king, a sheik, or, in this case, the heir to a banking fortune. The room glowed with the flickering light of a hundred small candles, pulsed with the low background of sensual music, heavy on the bass as requested, and enticed with the heady aroma of ylang-ylang and rose. As Cara checked last minute details to ensure everything was perfect, she wished once again that she could be on the receiving end of such decadent attention. Then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and laughed.

  Blonde hair caught back in a pony tail, all-American girl-next-door complexion totally void of makeup, and a red and white striped t-shirt barely tented by her average B cup--the wholesome package didn’t exactly equal the kind of woman who would drive a man wild and make him willing to spare no expense to see to her pleasure. She felt a little like Cinderella dreaming of going to the ball.

  But since her check ran into four figures for setting up tonight’s little scene, she couldn’t complain. Much.

  Cara ran her finger down the edge of her list, mentally checking off each item. Chocolate-covered strawberries: check. Champagne: check. Powdered sugar for dipping...or licking: check. Bubble bath and rose petals near the Jacuzzi: check. Edible body paints: check. Sex toys: check. Large box of condoms: check.

  She grinned at the last item. Sam either liked to think positively, or he thought he had a reputation to maintain. Okay, what else? Fruit tray, vegetable and cheese and bread trays, bottles of red and white wines, whiskey, and vodka. Soft drinks in the mini-fridge. Bowls of various kinds of chocolates and nuts placed around the room. Soft porn DVD’s stacked on the TV stand. Vases of flowers, brilliant with color and heavy with fragrance, blended rather than competed for attention.

  Everything was ready, and her latest client was due any minute. She flipped off the overhead lights, switched on the miniature lights--and turned the room into a fairy land.

  Oh my. It's gorgeous. She took a couple of photographs to add to her website before she backed out of the room and eased the door closed behind her.

  "Hello Beautiful."

  Cara spun around and saw nothing but a broad expanse of silk-covered muscle. She recognized the voice, the scent, the rock-hard body. But it couldn’t be. She looked up. "Gray! What are you doing here?"

  Grayson Montgomery wrapped his work-roughened hands around her arms and set her back far enough to look down into her eyes. "Happy Birthday, Cara."

  "My birthday isn’t until tomorrow." And she really didn’t want to think about it before then, either. She’d be--omigod--thirty! A small gasp escaped before she could stop it.

  Gray grinned, showing perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth that were the result of years of orthodontics and caps--the latter thanks to his love of contact sports.

  "I see you remember our agreement, Caramia." He made her name sound like a lover’s caress.

  Cara tried to back away, but the closed door at her back blocked her retreat. "No, I’d totally forgotten that silly promise. Really. I thought you had, too."

  His head dipped and she turned her
face to avoid the kiss. Gray didn’t miss a beat. He kept going until his lips grazed across her collarbone, sending heat flaring through her midsection. Damn him. Why did he insist on teasing her like this? She wasn’t his type, really, so it couldn’t be true interest on his part.

  He went for the outdoorsy types; the rock climbers, skydivers, and parasailers. The closest she got to the outdoors was her one true love--swimming. Put her in water, and she was in heaven. Saltwater or fresh, lake or ocean. So long as it was clear and wet, she was happy.

  Try to get her to hike a mountainside or climb a cliff face? Forget it. She hated heights, snakes, and unrelenting heat, not to mention putting her life at risk unnecessarily.

  Since Gray loved all those things, except maybe the snakes, she was totally unsuited for him. He couldn’t be serious about holding her to that old, outdated promise. Could he? But he’d turned thirty last week. She turned thirty tomorrow. And he was here.

  Cara’s breath caught as his lips trailed across the swell of her right breast. Her heart pounded in a frantic rhythm that sounded like "retreat, retreat!" to her inner ear. She fumbled with the door at her back and, quick as lightning, lunged backwards into the room.

  Quick as thunder, Gray followed. And shut the door behind him. And turned the security lock. His eyes lit with appreciation at the scene before him. "It’s perfect. Just what I ordered."

  "What do you mean, you ordered? This room was reserved and paid for by Sam Hyatt."

  Gray smiled, this time without the teeth. Somehow, it seemed cunning.

  "Gray, what did you do?"

  "Sam asked me what I wanted for my thirtieth birthday, and this was it."

  That was disgusting. "I suppose he’s providing the girl, too?"

  He shook his head and took a step closer. "No, the girl I had to get on my own."

  Cara looked over his shoulder at the closed door. "So, where is she?"

  The gleam in his eye told her more than she wanted to know. A shiver worked its way down her spine at the heat in his steady gaze. Was he really feeling hot and bothered, and did she have anything to do with that, or would he have the same reaction to any female? It had to be the latter. She’d never inspired lust in anyone before. And she and Gray had been friends since the third grade.

  "I...I...I have to go. I have things to do." It was lame, and his raised eyebrow spoke volumes.

  "You are mine for the next twenty-four hours, Caramia. Just you, me, and those thousand-thread-count satin sheets."

  "You aren’t serious about this. This is just a joke for my birthday, right?" Please, please let it be a prank. But she knew in her heart it wasn’t. Gray wasn’t the type to let anyone spend that kind of money on a birthday gift as a joke.

  "I’m as serious at this moment as I was when we made the promise. I nearly died when you almost married that Dickass jerk."

  "Dickens, dammit. Dickens. How many times do I have to tell you?"

  "Dickass fits him better. But you didn’t go through with it. I wondered why."

  Cara still wondered about that herself sometimes. Dennis had been great, a really nice person with a really good job and a really pretty house in the foothills outside of Austin. Maybe he was just too really...or something. "I don’t know why. It didn’t feel right. The closer we got to making real plans, the farther I wanted to run. Calling it off seemed the kindest thing to do."

  Gray reached out and pulled the Scrunchie from her hair, combing his fingers through the loose waves and causing goose bumps to break out on her skin. "There. That’s better. Now, why don’t you go put on something more comfortable?"

  Cara grabbed the Scrunchie and pulled her hair back into a haphazard ponytail. "You’re kidding me, right? I suppose that satin and lace gown in the closet was ordered for me and not someone else? What happened? Your hot date get cold feet?"

  Gray slid his fingers into her hair, cupping her face and tilting her chin up so she had to look him in the eye. "Of course it was ordered for you, Caramia. Don’t you remember the size?"

  Dammit. It was her size. She’d had to work hard to resist the temptation to try it on. It was lusciously soft and outrageously short. The crimson shade complemented her bronzed skin. It finally began to sink in that Gray had gone to all this trouble specifically for her. She wasn’t a last-minute stand in for someone who hadn’t shown up.

  The question now was...why?

  Gray tried not to let Cara see how much her hesitation bothered him. Was she really going to back out on the promise? He’d waited fifteen years to get what he’d wanted from her on his fifteenth birthday. She’d hesitated then, too, and had finally come up with a compromise. She had dreams and plans, beginning with college and starting her own business. Having sex and risking pregnancy hadn’t figured into those plans. But she’d promised him that if they were both still single at thirty, she’d have sex with him--and she’d make sure it was worth the wait.

  She had a pretty big fantasy to live up to after all this time. He’d had fifteen years to practice his technique, to learn as much as possible about a woman’s body, about how her mind worked, what her fantasies were. Tonight he would get the chance to put it all to the test, to see if his teachers had been as good as they’d seemed.

  But what had she been doing the last fifteen years? He’d kept in touch through the years, staying fairly close since she’d moved back to Austin and opened Satisfaction Guaranteed. But she’d been closed-mouthed about her love life, refusing to discuss her near-marriage or anything to do with sex.

  For all he knew, she was a virgin.

  Nah. Not even a possibility. Not in this day and age.

  But was she ready for a twenty-four hour round of non-stop sex? Because he was. More than ready.

  Doubts built as she stood in the center of the room, looking uncertain and a little overwhelmed. He’d never forgotten those early days when they’d pledged their undying affection and devotion. Innocent kisses had progressed to some serious petting before she’d put her foot down and said "no more." The pain he’d suffered the day she’d left for college without a backward glance was still a vivid memory.

  But she’d come home ten years later, smarter, more beautiful, more confident than when she’d left. They’d kept in touch by letter and email at first, by instant messaging later. He’d flown out to California for a visit a time or two, and she’d come home to visit family at least once every two years.

  It wasn’t the same as having her close by, where he could stop by and see her when he wanted to, where he could touch her when he needed to. But he’d kept the touches innocent, biding his time while she went through the near-marriage phase and the "I hate men" phase. It wasn’t until he overheard her talking to her best friend Reggie about how she wished someone would treat her the way her clients treated their women that he realized what he really wanted, needed, from Cara.

  He wanted her to keep her promise.

  In return, he’d do his damnedest to make her fantasy come true.

  ***

  Regina Baker pushed the heavy stairwell door open a few inches and looked down the long hallway to room 2102.

  "Has she bailed yet?" Sam Hyatt sat on the bottom step of the emergency stairway. They were both anxiously waiting to see if the evening was going to turn into a fiasco, and both were prepared to deal with the fallout, if necessary.

  The door remained tightly closed. "Nope, and it doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere tonight. Guess Gray was more persuasive than I thought."

  "So you owe me a twenty." He held out his hand until Reggie handed over the cash. He tugged a money clip from his front pocket, pulling the denim tight over an impressive package.

  Reggie swallowed--hard. Man, oh man. She had to reign in this hankering for Mr. Moneybags Hyatt. He wouldn’t look twice at a poor preacher’s daughter. "We need to get out of here. If either one of them catches us, we’re dog meat." Reggie stood and dusted the bottom of her jeans, her hands falling to her side at the glazed look on Sam’s f
ace. She snapped her fingers an inch from his nose. "Hey, snap out of it, hotshot. Time to hook-'em."

  "I love it when you talk football." Sam gave her a Texas Longhorns two-fingered salute.

  Reggie returned his salute with one of her own--of the one-fingered variety. "I’m an Aggie, you dumb jock."

  He grinned. "I know. Right down to the dirt under your fingernails. So, when are you going to come fill up your hole? I’d do it, but I don’t want to make you mad by doing your job for you."

  Reggie tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. Her giggles followed her all the way down the flight of stairs and out onto the 20th floor hallway.

  Sam pushed through the metal door. "What did I say that was so funny?"

  "Nothing, Sam, not a thing." The man was totally hopeless. He saw everything in black and white, one-dimensional, neat and orderly. If he said something, he said exactly what he meant, no innuendo or subtext whatsoever. Reggie loved word games, teasing, sexual banter and loaded questions. She loved trying to figure out what someone actually meant rather than what they said. Too bad Sam was an open book--and a first edition Emily Post at that. "I’ll come by in the morning and take care of it, okay? The tree is supposed to be delivered this afternoon."

  "Fine. I don’t want someone to fall in that hole and get hurt."

  "I don’t either. That’s why I put a barricade around it."

  "That barricade isn’t enough to keep a child out, if one were to get too close."

  Reggie stopped and turned to look at Sam. He was seriously worried about this. But he didn’t have any children, not even any nieces and nephews. She doubted a child had set foot on that property since he himself had outgrown short pants. "You had a really repressed childhood, didn’t you?" The words were out before she could stop them, and they hung in the air.

  Sam stood there, silent, until Reggie thought she’d go mad. What was he thinking? Was he going to walk away, never speak to her again? She’d broken the cardinal rule...never, ever mention Sam’s childhood.

  Then he laughed.