Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Jason Morgan pulled his leather jacket over his broad shoulders. Damn, the man had the chest of a Greek god. What she wouldn't give to rip off the white dress shirt he wore and lick his skin until it was red and raw. To touch his nipple and be satisfied when they hardened under her soft fingers. What she wouldn't give to undress the man, cup him in her hand and bury him deep inside of her. Everyone wanted the man and at ten grand a night, he was well worth the price.

Long and lean, his body was all hard planes and defined muscles. At over six feet the man was intimidating, but his eyes were so blue, you lost yourself in them. Wanted to. Needed to. A fine golden sheen was the essence of his spiked locks. His hands were large and calloused like any good man, but what set them apart was the very delicate way he used them to touch and soothe. His hands were magic and more than a few women had been put under their spell.

She'd had her eye on him for a long time. He had the reputation of a stallion in bed and that was coming from Porsha Hargraves who was already on her third husband and had more experience than any other twenty-five year old she knew.

Letting her eyes linger on the protrusion hidden under his zipper, she blushed. The man was also known for being plenty endowed in the one area most men would give their first child to be. Yes, he was capable in the sack and yes he fulfilled many a woman's fantasies, but that's not what made them keep going back for more of the insatiable Jason Morgan. He was kind and gentle. A generous lover when need be. A dangerous wildcat when occasion called for it. A hot, sweaty enigma when women needed to lose themselves to something more than this world had to offer. He catered to their needs, showed them what sex could be and that's why he was Port Charles' number one escort.

Everyone knew who Jason Morgan was. The men envied him and the women threw dollar bills down his crotch. The prince of leather and seduction, Jason was what most women could never have. But he offered himself to them for a fee. Giving them one night and nothing more. There were no repeat clients. No second 'dates'. You got one chance to be with Jason Morgan and you got it the way you wanted it.

He was a respite from abusive husbands and a source of completion for the lonely, who otherwise had no one. One could call it a civil service. Or maybe you could even call it counselling. There were no real words or definitions for the service he provided. Those that had been sceptics changed their minds after one taste. They all craved him. Craved more of his skin and lips and tongue. They spend their lives craving a man who sells his body and sells his soul.

Elizabeth, still perched in her seat on the balcony watched as Jason made plans with other women, kissing their cheeks and making them blush. Jason was a charmer too. His tongue had been stroked by the devil and his words were wicked as they flashed over naked skin. Saying things that were completely arousing and so foreign to the high society ladies that paid for him. A voice so soothing and seductive, it was impossible to talk to the man without feeling a deep throb between your legs. His voice reeked of sex and promises he'd be sure to keep.

Elizabeth wanted to hear him speak. Hear him scream her name when he came inside her. But how could she? How could she walk up to a man and ask him to have sex with her?

At first, she thought it was a bad idea to go to the country club. To see the desperation on the women's faces when he walked into the room. But now she was among that sea of faces and just as hungry for him.

It was no lie, he was worthy of their praise and Elizabeth hated herself for wanting him. Hated herself when she made eye contact and he smiled, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. But dammit, she was lonely and hornier than hell.

Watching as Porsha walked the expanse of the room towards Jason, Elizabeth made up her mind fast.

Elizabeth took a sip of the Chardonnay she'd been drinking before she downed the glass. "Screw it!" She declared and stocked over to Jason Morgan and Porsha.

Porsha set her sights on Jason Morgan, roughly grabbing his arm and pulling him away from his harem of women. "I need you." She said hoarsely, trying to gain the man's sympathy. He had a soft spot and if she played it right, she thought she might be able to get him back into her bed, hot under the sheets.

"Porsha honey," he drawled, taking her by the small of the back he discreetly pulled her to the side. "We've been over this. You've had your fill, now it's time to let someone else have a turn."

"That's just it Jase, I still want you. I still need you. Couldn't you just this once-"

Stride in check, Elizabeth made her way towards the back where they spoke in hushed tones. Elizabeth tapped the large muscles of Jason's arm and ignored the incredulous stare she received form Porsha. "Excuse me, Mr. Morgan?"

"Miss Webber," he said softly, his voice washing over her like liquid sex. "You'll excuse us won't you Mrs. Hargraves?" The woman gave him an evil glare that was at the same time painful before she walked away.

"Who told you-how do you know my name?" Her eyes turned dark with lust as she looked at him, imagining fifty different ways he could make her come.

His hand whisked over her cheek, sending a spark straight to her loins. "I know all the beautiful women. Now what is it you want Miss Webber?" Tipping his head down, he spoke against her ear, letting his warm breath press against her earlobe.

"I-I don't know. This was a mistake." She said shyly and tried to move away, but he took her hand in his. Warmth spread over her body, centered in the very female place between her thighs.

"Stay," he whispered, rubbing his thumb against her palm in lazy circles, doing things to her she didn't think possible with a single touch. What would happen when he actually pressed himself inside her? She was almost scared to find out. Scared and curious. An absolutely wicked thought.

"Tell me honey, tell me what I can give you." The hum between her thighs intensified as his lips curled into a devious smile. Sensing her hesitation, he pulled her body flush against his. "Tell me."

"I want you." She whispered, aware of the pink flush from her cheeks that spread down her throat and disappeared into the lace of her bra.

"Follow me." Jason told her, keeping her hand in his, interlocking their fingers.

"Anywhere." Elizabeth mumbled under her breath and tried not to stumble as they made their way out of the swinging doors.

Jason led them to his prized motorcycle and helped Elizabeth on, sitting her in front. Climbing on behind her, Jason helped strap on her helmet and let her feel the length of him pressed tightly against her round bottom. Taking her hand again he placed it on his thigh. "You're beautiful." He told her softly and felt her move her fingers against the strength of his thighs. "Would you like to touch me?"

She nodded and he smiled softly. "Would you like me to touch you?"

"Very much," she whispered drowsily.

Jason breathed against her neck, dipping his tongue against her exposed flesh at the nape. Elizabeth didn't know if she could stand another minute of the torture as the engine revved to life, he slipped his strong arms around her, trapping her against his body. Not that she minded. As the bike began to move, she was thankful for the reverberations of the bike that kept her need to take him there at bay. For now. "Would you like to see the wind, Elizabeth?"

"Y-yes," she choked, aware of the speed and the exhilarating force of the Harley, the sense of power it gave her. The freedom.

Taking one hand off the handlebars, he placed it at the base of Elizabeth's skirt. Dragging up the thin fabric he teased up her thigh, drawing a whimper from her open mouth. It would be a lie if he said it didn't turn him on, he hardened almost instantly as his fingers made it to the wet cloth of her thong. "Soon." Jason promised and drew his hand away, aware of her moan of protest.

The bike sped down the highway travelling to some place outside the city limits. When they got to his home, Elizabeth was surprised, surely he didn't bring everyone here.

She waited for him to get off the bike first and then slid off the leather seat and took his hand. "Not too long now," he whispered, touching the softness of her fingers.

Finally in the house, Elizabeth shook with the prospect of hard love making. No, sex. Sex, she reminded herself.

The obvious fact that she was nervous was no surprise and he was prepared to relax her. "Would you like a drink Miss Webber?" Jason asked huskily, taking off and throwing his jacket on a nearby chair.

"Um sure, wine, if you have any. Oh and call me Elizabeth." Taking off her own jacket she placed it against his.

"White or red?" He asked over his shoulder on the way to the kitchen.

"White please." Elizabeth said in a small voice. She was losing her nerve fast and would definitely need that drink if she were to follow through.

Coming back into the room, he gave her the glass and watched as she drank the contents fast. Taking the glass form her hand, he set it down on the table in the foyer where she hadn't moved since they arrived.

Where his boots had been, his feet were now bare. Even his socks were on the floor as he guided them up the carpeted stairs. She still wore her four inch heels and sexy leggings, black and sheer, almost shimmering against the low lighting. The entire top floor appeared to be a bedroom, decked out in guilty blues of an eternal bachelor. Jason seemed to dance towards her, as he eased her into a chair adjacent the bed.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked; his voice tumbling over her like a strong summer wind.

Her mouth suddenly went dry and she forgot how to speak; wouldn't be able to put together a complete sentence if her life depended on it. So she retreated; let her face take on the crimson stain that marked her inexperience with this sort of seduction.

Jason seemed to notice. Seemed to be in tune with everything she said and didn't say; could probably read her better than any of the other men she'd been with, and those were the people that had supposedly loved her. And what was Jason to her? A hired sex slave? Someone to get her off while she waited for her next real lover? No. Even as she looked at him, she knew he was more than that. More than she wanted to admit. She'd watched him for years as he seduced in the most sinful ways and lusted for him.

The sultry heat of the summer seemed to linger in his room even though it was nearly winter and she realized it was his very real presence that made that possible. That the heat bounced off him and scorched her skin.

"Elizabeth, tell me what you want?" He baited as he sank down in front of her, capturing one hosed calf in his strong hands. His fingers stroked down to her foot, where he proceeded to unlace the thin black straps from around her delicate ankles. A single kiss to her knee and then he replaced her leg to the ground, picking up the other one and delivering the same sweet treatment.

His lips kissed her knee again when he was finished and he slid his fingers against the back of it. "Tell me, Elizabeth," he whispered and drew a path with his mouth to her silky thighs still entrapped in the sheer stockings.

The air from Elizabeth's lungs seemed to vanish as she tried to control herself. "I-I..," she sputtered as Brady moved his hand up her leg, devouring the space between her thighs with the very tips of his fingers. Jason was fully prepared to torture her until she released the spitfire within. Until she let herself go and realized her potential as a wanton sex goddess, Jason would be there touching her, teasing her into a frenzy. If she could just learn to abandon the prissy socialite facade, he was sure she would realize what a dangerous vixen she could be. That she could bring men to their knees with want for her. That he was on his knees wanting her, needing her. Needing to be inside her tight walls while she milked him for all he was worth. Just the thought, send a shrill cry of pain to his groin. He was hard and heavy with yearning.

Something carnal was in his eyes when he looked back at her, egging her on, forcing her to give over to him the very thoughts she could only dream and never say out loud. But for him, she would. She'd give it all up and bask in the satisfying stroke of his tongue against her naked flesh, while he whispered dirty words she always pretended were too harsh for her. But from his lips they were the erotic fortunes she came to in her sleep. "Well, I-I uh, I guess I want you to strip." There, she said it. That's what she wanted. To see him naked in front of her, hard and ready for her alone. It made her stomach pull tight and the hunger growled inside her for his body.

"Say it with more force, Elizabeth. Take what you want. Take what I'm giving you and don't be ashamed." He stood then, slowly, aware of her eyes feasting on his body, lingering on the bulge straining against his zipper. His hands worked the buttons of the white, starched dress shirt and Elizabeth watched intently as it fell to the floor in a careless heap. Bare chested, her eyes gorged on the site of him. Raw and male, his skin was tan and smelled of fresh manly soap, something woodsy. Still sitting in the chair in front of him, she inhaled greedily as if he may vanish into thin air. Reaching her hand out, she touched the defined muscles of his abdomen and waited for the red hue to coat her cheeks. It never came. Somewhere she'd given up embarrassment over to lust.

Sliding his belt out of the loops of the pressed dress pants, Jason breathed deeply when her fingers connected with his nipples.

Watching in amazement as they tightened under her fingers, Elizabeth stroked him until his breath came in pants. His pants now pooling at his feet, Jason stepped out of them and came closer to Elizabeth wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. She removed her hand from his flesh and stared up at him. "Boxers too. Let me see what I paid for." Her nervous laugh stopped in her throat when he pulled on the elastic band of the boxers and pushed them down his hips. There he stood, not just naked but beautifully nude, proud of his body and proud of her reaction.

His lips curled into a wonderful smile, lighting his eyes with unfulfilled desire. "There ya go, Elizabeth. Don't be afraid to tell me what you want. Tell me what you need," he whispered. "That's what I'm here for." He took her hand in his, stood her up so she was pressed against his body. She gasped or maybe it was him. It was getting harder to tell who was enjoying the sensations more. The pressure of his hand moving against her blouse, pulling it up, made her go dizzy. Her eyes grew smoky when he found the skin so soft under the pesky blouse. Rubbing circles on skin that could only be described as delicate, made Elizabeth go limp in his arms.

When his touch landed on her firm buttocks, Elizabeth's eyes drifted shut and she bucked against him unconsciously. "You feel so good Elizabeth. Talk to me, tell me where you want me to touch you." His lips circled the delicate folds of her ears, traced the shell with his tongue until finally taking the lobe into his mouth and suckling on it.

Oh God, Elizabeth was pressed up against him, feeling him hard against her, letting him touch her in ways she'd forgotten existed and he expected her to think?

Bringing his hands back up against the curvature of her spine, aware she shivered into his touch, Jason took the soft pink blouse away with his fingers and threw it to the ground. Leaving her in a simple white silk bra. Scanning the slope of her breasts as they disappeared amongst the silky fabric, he let his mouth touch her shoulder and felt her shudder. Tracing the path between her breasts, he felt the soft skin rise and fall as his tongue circled and swirled. She moaned of her own free will and moved against him, tilting her head so he had access to the column of her throat. He nipped and soothed his way to her lips, touching her cheek to make her look at him. Her eyes, he was surprised to find, were dark with longing and clouded when she looked at him. There was no need for her to speak now. He didn't need her to tell him what she needed. He knew.

He took her mouth with urgency, separating her lips with his tongue and letting her taste him. She was hot and soft and sweet at the same time and it made him groan. How could one woman mean everything and nothing to him at the same time? Or at least he wanted her to mean nothing. He wanted her to be like all the rest. Selfish. Uncaring. Unfeeling. But she couldn't be. One look at Elizabeth Webber told him she was none of those things. One look at her and he knew she wasn't like all the others. Damn her! Damn him! Damn them! There would be a nice quiet place in hell waiting for him. So help him, he wanted more from this one. More than one night of passion and hot, sweaty sex. But how much more he wasn't sure. What could he really give her? Could he really destroy her life by allowing himself to feel, by allowing her to get close, while the society columns gossiped and gabbed. Could he do that to her? Would she let him?

Fisting her hands in his hair she pushed him against her, took his mouth again in a blazing hot kiss. If he needed an answer that was it. She was fiery and alert and knew where she wanted his hands, his lips, his tongue. Pressing her chest against his, she felt the wonderful friction of their naked bodies. The contrast between his hard planes and her soft curves was magnificent, sparking desire where none had lived for a long time. Finding the muscles in his back with her nails, she dragged down his flesh, planted her hands firmly on his butt like they were meant to be there. Their tongues sparred and their bodies rocked together in a dance as old as time.

Swollen lips left her mouth, started down the path he had begun earlier but never quiet finished. Skirting from her hip to stomach, his hand rested on her ribs inches from breasts he was about to claim. His fingers edged upwards, touched the silk of her bra, felt her nipple perk up under his light touch. "There," she said softly and it sounded more like a demand than anything else. "Touch me there." The smile that branded his face was quick, but wicked just the same.

With one tug from expert hands the bra was gone and it was skin touching skin. His fingers were devils in disguise and his mouth was even more dangerous. The first flick of his tongue against her flushed skin had her moaning his name, bucking her hips and scraping his back. She was wild, he knew it. But he, he was going to tame her, show her how sinful sex could really be. He cupped her breast like a delicate flower; kissed and suckled like she offered him the finest nectar and he the rogue who drank from her freely.

They tore her clothes away together until she was just as naked and mesmerizing as he. Stepping back, he observed her as if she were a painting he couldn't quite figure out. At times she seemed meek and mild mannered and other times when he touched her, even with the slightest whisper of his skin, she glowed and sprang to life. He couldn't help thinking she had the same effect on him. That his skin was alive with the fire she had stoked and would burn brightly as long as she kept looking at him the way she was.

In those few seconds, the atmosphere had changed. The air became thick; a heady mixture of need and desire. All he could think about were the things he could do to her; what they could do together. He wanted to make her come and not just for the sake of fulfilment. He wanted to hear her scream his name, make her breathless and excited; make her moan and beg and plead with him. And she would.

Taking her in his arms, he kissed her like she was a lost entity he needed to keep his sanity. Their tongues battled for control, sought the pleasure that was driving them mad quickly. When they finally made it to the bed, only a few feet away, he laid her down gently, but she pulled him against her; fused her lips to his and made no excuses for it.

When he broke away she murmured her disapproval until he slithered down her body, tattooing wet kisses to her sticky skin. She was pliant under his tongue and teeth as he nipped and soothed his way down her body. Not caring that he left little marks to show how well ravished she had been.

A warm tingle began to boil her blood, nearly scorching him when he finally found his destination. Petting her like she was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, until he felt the soft folds of her so incredibly wet. He drew her apart and placed a featherlike kiss against the tight bundle of nerves that would lead her home.

The contact of his finger against her most sensitive area had her writhing and squirming to get closer to him as he built on the need that was beginning to consume her. Slipping a finger inside her made her lose her breath; made her lose herself as he took over. A caring and giving lover, he took his time, let her feel him hard pressed against her thigh, while he worked his voodoo with his fingers.

Blowing moist air out of her lungs, Elizabeth had to grip the bed sheets for fear she would rip his hair out form the intense contact. Soon his fingers weren't enough and his tongue delved into the mix, spearing against her clit and dragging lazy circles that made her whimper with pleasure. Taking his fingers away much to her dismay, he held down her hips and looked up at her. She couldn't read his expression but she knew something bigger, better was coming and she wasn't sure she was entirely prepared for it.

She felt the heat of his tongue while it surged into her center, ripping an orgasm from her body that shattered and shook her sense of time and space. The dizzy moment of her peak brought her alive and bucking off the bed with his mouth still fused to the very female part of her. She was glorious and a sense of pride welled up inside of him when she finally settled. He was so incredibly hard, harder than he'd ever remembered being and he knew he had to have her; had to be inside her when he came.

Waiting the ten seconds it took for him to sheath himself were enough torture to make him lose his mind. Finally secure, he kissed her cheek softly and plunged into her. The sensation was fluid, so very real and he had to hold himself or it would be over before they ever really began their journey. She bent and twisted under him, drawing a deep growl from his throat.

He cursed softly before he willed himself to move; drawing almost completely out of her, before filling her tight body once again. Taking her hands in his, he raised them over her head, entwined their fingers and suckled her exposed breast. Watching her eyes as they flickered with pleasure made him speed up his actions; made him move faster and harder.

Hooking her legs around his back, she took him in deeper, let him penetrate her and fill her like she'd always imagined he could. Something primal took over and soon she had rolled them over so she was on top dictating the motion. Starting slow, she took him in and out of her body; the quick rise and fall of his chest and the beads of sweat that covered him made her hot and her body began to move faster up and down on his shaft. Pulling her against him, he took her mouth in an urgent kiss; feeling her body begin to shake. Trembling as she moved towards release, Jason gripped her hips when she didn't have the strength to move as fast as she needed to.

Her walls gripped him, held him captive as she climaxed long and hard and then finally sent him over the edge with her. She collapsed against him, letting her tangled hair fall on his chest like a blanket. They sighed, contented.

If it were possible to move on her own, she would have, but instead allowed Elizabeth to ease out of her and roll her onto her back. Discreetly he did away with the condom and spooned her against him. They were both sweaty and sticky and for once Elizabeth thought it was a nice feeling to be wrapped up against someone like that.

They were quiet a long time. The kind of quiet that's comfortable between two lovers who have spent their whole lives together, not two strangers who had a one night stand, but somehow it felt right. And maybe they weren't strangers after all. Maybe on some level they had always been looking for the other.

Elizabeth rested her eyes, let her heartbeat get back to normal before she asked the question she'd been begging to since she walked into the door. "Do you enjoy your job?"

"What man wouldn't?" He laughed and brushed the hair from her face; couldn't help but think she looked loved in his arms and that he enjoyed that feeling. "Especially with a woman like you."The flush that dotted her cheeks and neck was instant. "I could never do what you do."

"People think I don't have feelings Elizabeth and most of the time they're right. I shut down when I'm doing my job. The pleasure isn't for me, it's for my clients. But it was different with you." Jason revealed as he stroked the tender skin of her shoulder.

"Oh?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"Tonight I couldn't turn off those feelings." Jason told her quietly, taking deep lung-fulls of air.

Curious, Elizabeth raised her head and studied his face. "What does that mean for you?"

His eyes were dark blue with humour when he looked back at her. "I think it means I'm in big trouble," he laughed and it was a deep belly laugh that had Elizabeth shaking against him from the force of it. Elizabeth smiled too and buried her face deep into his chest, smelling the very male, delicious scent of him.