The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

  “Much.” I nuzzle into his side, grateful for the warmth of his body against mine. I can smell his cologne now that we’re closer, something subtle and spicy—a scent I’m totally unfamiliar with.

  When we arrive in front of The Old Boston Inn, my hotel, I find myself disappointed. I want to feel more of his body against mine, that devilish voice inside of me says. You could ask him up! My brain tells me… But I hate making the first move. And besides… I just met this guy. I don’t know much of anything about him. Plus, I have to meet Laura to go cake tasting tomorrow afternoon. I’d better call it an early night.

  I turn to Jason, who’s standing in front of me on the sidewalk before the hotel, and open my mouth to tell him thank you and goodnight. But as I slip my hand out of the crook of his elbow and turn to face him, he grabs my wrist and pulls me in for a kiss. Deep, long, hard, and wanting. It’s a total contrast compared to the gentleman who just escorted me home without even hinting at a kiss.

  Despite having just decided I would not ask him up, I feel my resolve slipping. He’s so tall that even though he’s bent down to kiss me, I push myself up slightly on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms up around his neck for stability, to kiss him back. His hand inches down my back to my waist, at which point he seems to recover himself and gently untangles me from his grasp.

  He steps back, eyeing me. The street is dark and empty around us. It’s a sleepy Sunday night in Boston and there’s no moon tonight, so only the lights from the hotel lobby and the few street lamps above us are all that’s illuminating the darkness.

  “So…” He pauses and my heart races, wondering what he’s going to say. Is he going to proposition me? Invite himself up? The sensation of his lips pressed against mine is fresh and real, and it’s left me wanting more. I notice that I have goose bumps on my arms and, shivering, wrap my arms around myself as we continue to stand like that, just inches apart, locked in a staring match.

  “So…” He says again, then clears his throat. “I don’t suppose you have some coffee upstairs?”

  I can’t help it, I let out yet another enormous laugh. After that sexy kiss, that urgent wanting kiss, his return to playing the part of the gentleman is totally unexpected.

  “I’m sorry,” I explain, “that’s just such an old school line.” I glance at him, worried he’ll be offended by my outburst but he’s looking down at me with a gentle smile. “But I like it,” I add. “I like your style.”

  “Not too old school for you?”

  “No, not too old school. And yes, there is coffee. Care to come up?”

  Without a word, he offers me his arm and we head inside together. My heart is pounding with every step as I feel the firmness of his muscles through his shirt. Cara Conley, what are you getting yourself into?

  Chapter Six

  Jason

  Look, a gentleman can’t just invite himself up to a girl’s room. Yes, I realize reaching for the coffee card was sort of ridiculous, seeing as I’d just given Cara a kiss that had left my dick ready to explode out of my pants… But I couldn’t tell her that, now could I? Although I suspect she may have noticed anyway.

  Now that we are making our way up to her hotel room, I’m just reminding myself to be cool. Cara has been more than receptive to me physically all evening but I don’t want to push it. I realize I just met the girl today and she may not want more than to make out. I don’t want to push her outside of her comfort zone and if she lets me kiss those luscious lips all night long, I’ll be damned happy in any case. I needn’t have worried though…the second the door to the hotel room closes behind us, it becomes clear we both want the same thing.

  “So, shall I call room service for coffee?”

  Cara is eyeing me with a saucy grin, tracing her collarbone softly with one perfectly manicured finger, gently drawing my eyes to the necklace hanging between her breasts. She leans seductively with one hand on the large mahogany desk, her hip slightly popped out to accentuate her slight curves. She’s clearly not interested in coffee and she knows I’m not either.

  “You know, I think I’ll be fine without,” I tell her, advancing towards her—determined to get another kiss. “I’d rather just be alone with you than deal with some room service guy bustling in.” I step closer, taking a slight sniff, hoping to catch a scent of her perfume.

  “Same here,” she answers with a smile and then casually slips her shoes off. “Make yourself at home.”

  Just as I’m about to get to her, she walks briskly past me, gliding from the desk to one of the room’s two large windows, her naked feet barely making a sound on the polished hardwood floors.

  As she passes me, our bodies almost touch and I catch a whiff of that scent—perfume, body wash, shampoo, I don’t know what it is. But I want more. Is she teasing me on purpose? I feel the bulge in my pants grow as I follow her to the window, until I’m standing right behind her, the front of my body barely touching her back.

  “You got a gorgeous room,” I tell her, reaching one hand up to her shoulder and stroking it gently from behind.

  “Executive suite,” she responds. “Honestly, the hotels were so packed, I had trouble getting a normal room. But it’s worth it for this view,” she murmurs as she looks out the window, her back still to me.

  The room’s window overlooks the red-brick-lined street out front, a quaint corner of Boston’s old town district. In the night, the yellow glow of a few streetlights casts a romantic hue over the scene below us.

  “The view is gorgeous,” I agree. She conveniently has her hair tied back, exposing her neck, the skin smooth and creamy, and I can’t resist leaning down and gently kissing the side of her neck as my hands continue to gently stroke her shoulders. She lets out a small sigh of pleasure in response and pushes her backside into me so that our bodies are fully touching. There’s no way to hide my hard-on now.

  I don’t care. I keep kissing her neck while my hands gently pull down the straps of her red dress. I soon realize…she’s not wearing a bra underneath. I move one hand to the front, slowly running it along her collarbone and inching it down towards the curve of her breast until I reach her nipple, slowly circling it with my fingers and feeling it get hard at my touch.

  “Wait,” she says and I stop, thinking I’ve gone too far. But she simply grabs the dress, which has now fallen to her waist, and wriggles it down to the ground, stepping out of it. Then she turns and faces me, leaning her butt gently on the windowsill.

  “Whew,” the word escapes me in a breath.

  “I hope that’s a good reaction,” she giggles.

  “Oh yeah.” Her figure is truly beautiful, just my style. Not too skinny, perfectly proportioned breasts—exactly the right size for me, I guess a B cup, not more—a sweet curve at the waist and those perfectly toned legs. She must be a runner or something. She definitely works out. She’s wearing just a tiny pair of panties, some lacy scrap of red material that looks damn uncomfortable—but also looks damn good. I wonder momentarily if she intentionally wore red panties to complement her red dress…

  “You know, I’m not sure how fair this is,” she says teasingly. “I’m standing here buck naked and you haven’t even taken your shoes off.”

  “True, miss. I apologize for my bad manners.” I grin as I kick my shoes off and unbutton my shirt and slacks, not taking my eyes off her the entire time. “I do have one question for you…” I pause as I reach for the waistband of my boxer-briefs.

  “Yes?” She eyes my crotch, a small smile on her lips. “Go ahead.”

  “Did you match your red panties to your red dress on purpose?” I ask as I slip out of my boxer briefs. I breathe a sigh of relief as my hard-on is freed from its constraints and step towards her.

  “Maybe…” She smiles but her eyes are hungrily eyeing my package.

  “I like that,” I tell her, taking a step forward. “Very nice… Attention to detail.” I end the sentence as she likewise steps towards me, into my arms, our near-bare bodies pressed together as I kiss
her, my hands on her back pulling her closer. I realize she’s standing slightly on tiptoe and, without a word, hoist her swiftly up on to the windowsill, our lips never breaking contact. Now she’s sitting, her back to the window, knees apart as I stand between her legs and try not to devour her.

  “Get… these… off,” she whispers urgently, pulling back slightly as she tugs at the red panties—that scrap of lace is the only thing between us.

  “Your wish is my command.” I tell her with a wink. She’s already pulling the panties down, lifting her butt slightly to wriggle out of them so that they’re now by her thighs. I grab onto them and slide them all the way down her legs before letting them drop to the floor.

  As I kneel on the floor to get the panties off, I marvel again at how toned her legs are and can’t resist kissing her ankle gently and then working my way up, one kiss at a time. When I reach her knees, I pause and look up. Her lips are parted in pleasure and her head is thrown back slightly. I keep going until I’m between her thighs. She’s completely wet, literally dripping on the windowsill and the evidence of her own excitement has me going wild. I gently work my tongue across her most sensitive parts, observing as she shudders. Suddenly she reaches one hand down and grabs my hair.

  I stop and look up at her. She just says one word. “Condom?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” I stand up, kiss her firmly on the mouth, and then go grab one of the Trojans I had slipped in my pocket—just in case. I don't want to wait another second and, without a word, slip it on as I return to her, still perched on the windowsill.

  “Scoot your butt forward,” I command her.

  She does, so she’s just barely on the edge. I wonder briefly if we should draw the curtains but there are no tall buildings across from us and we’re up high enough that it’s unlikely someone would see us from the street.

  I stand in front of her, between her parted knees, and slip my cock into her. She gasps and grabs hold of my shoulders, pulling herself against me and bracing herself as I start to move my hips, sliding slowly in and out of her, getting a bit deeper with each thrust. We’re kissing the entire time, her hands clawing my back and mine firmly on that curve of her waist. From head to toe, our bodies are intertwined—we couldn’t get any closer physically if we tried.

  My pace starts quickening and I’m ready to fucking explode, spurred on by the moans that are escaping Cara’s mouth between kisses. She pulls back and throws her head back slightly, exposing her gorgeous breasts to me. They bounce lightly to the rhythm of our bodies rocking together. I’m ready to let go but I also don’t want this moment to end.

  “Wait,” I tell her, slowing gently.

  “Yeah?” She lifts her head and shoots me a puzzled look.

  “Want to enjoy the view? It’s not bad.” I grin as I nod to the window behind her.

  “Good idea.” She shoots me a sly look. I pull out of her for just a moment and she hops off the windowsill and leans forward with her hands on it, gazing out of the paned glass into the dark night and the twinkling streetlights. She lifts her butt slightly towards me. When I don’t immediately enter her, she peeks back over her shoulder at me, confusion written on her face.

  “Just taking in the view myself,” I smile.

  “How is it?” She wiggles slightly back and forth.

  “Absolutely fucking gorgeous.” She looks amazing, bent over like that, the dim lights of the room and a faint glow from the lamps outside illuminating her creamy colored skin, toned legs and butt.

  I step forward and she turns back to look out the window, bracing herself on the sill as I slip into her. I place my hands on her waist to pull her closer and she arches her back so I’m hitting her in just the right spot inside…she starts moaning more and more loudly.

  “Tell me when you’re ready,” I command her. I could orgasm any second but I want to wait for her. It doesn’t take long.

  “Now,” she says, the word a throaty gurgle.

  I grip her waist more tightly and thrust into her just one, two, three more times, exploding on the third one as I let out a massive groan. I feel her body shudder against mine, pulsating as she gyrates against me, her back arched.

  I slump over her for just a second, kissing her back, shoulders, the nape of her neck, and letting my cock rest inside of her for a moment. Our breathing coordinates, in and out, as I rest on her back. I suddenly realize that her legs are shaking. She’s clearly ready to collapse. I can’t blame her. My own legs are feeling wobbly after that orgasm. I step back and slip my cock out of her.

  “You good?” I ask.

  In response, she turns and faces me, pulling me closer to her for a kiss. Her face is covered in sweat, her cheeks red and glowing, and the elegant chignon of her hair has tendrils coming loose all over. She’s even more beautiful than she was before.

  “I’m good.” She finally says. “But I could use a sip of water.”

  “Me too,” I respond with a smile. “I’ll get it.” I head to the bathroom, get rid of the condom, and grab two glasses of water. When I return, I find Cara curled up on the giant four-poster bed, a calm, happy aura surrounding her.

  “Here you go.” I hand her one of the glasses of water and watch smiling as she eagerly gulps it down. I drink my own glass and then get into bed next to her, finding her body under the covers.

  “Come here.” I open my arms and she snuggles into my chest, resting her head gently on it.

  “We can still get coffee if you want,” she remarks, poking me playfully in the ribs.

  “I think I’m good now,” I tell her, laughing gently. “That was better than a fancy cappuccino. I have to say I’m pretty sleepy though. You tired me out.”

  “I should hope so,” she lets out her loud laugh, infectious and sweet. I squeeze her closer for a moment, observing the silver necklace still resting between her breasts.

  “You have an amazing body,” she says as she runs her hands across my abs and up my chest.

  “I can say the same for you. You must be pretty active? Running?”

  She pauses her hand’s trajectory across my chest, looking up at me startled. “How did you know?”

  “Your legs. Super toned. Runner’s legs. Hamstrings. And well… Your glutes, too.” I admit with a grin.

  She giggles and the feeling of making her laugh is almost as good as the feeling of making her get off. Almost. “Yeah, I go pretty much every day,” she says. “It’s a good way to let off steam when…” She pauses.

  “When the lawyer life is stressing you out?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to talk about work though. This is my holiday.”

  “And is it off to a good start?”

  “An unexpected but very good start,” she murmurs. She’s running a hand over my chest, just grazing it ever so gently across my skin. It’s giving me goose bumps—and it’s giving my cock other ideas. “I thought you were sleepy,” she teases me lightly, bringing her hand down underneath the sheets and running it gently across my hard-on.

  “Well, I was but you sure know how to wake a guy up again.”

  “Mm, well I’m glad I didn’t totally kill you with round one.”

  “Round one, huh?”

  “Mmhm.” She’s already moving swiftly, her naked body on top of mine, straddling me as she kisses me gently and teases out my hard-on, rubbing herself against it.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” I murmur between kisses.

  “What, I’m not even touching you.” She sits up, still on top of me, and gives me a wide-eyed look of innocence as she shows me her hands. “See? I’m keeping my hands to myself.” She puts them behind her back with a docile look but there’s a wicked spark in her eyes.

  “Hey, not sure I want you putting your hands where I can’t see them.” I give her a grin and then let out a low moan as she lowers her weight onto me and rubs herself, by now wet, against my cock.

  “Well in that case…” She climbs off of me and for a moment I’m disappointed. But just for a
moment because seconds later she straddles me again. But this time, her back is to me. She has her hands behind her back, wrists together. She peeks over her shoulder and gives me a little smile. “Is that better?”

  “Much,” I grunt out the word before taking both of her wrists in my hand, directing her body on top of mine. I nudge her up slightly and see her leg muscles engage as she lifts her body. Taking my cock in one hand, I keep the other one gripping her wrists, and guide her gently down on top of me, watching as the muscles in her back tense up ever so slightly. She gives a sigh of pleasure as our bodies connect.

  Without her arms to hold her up, she can only use her leg muscles to move her body up and down. I place one hand on her hip to help her, keeping the other one firmly around her wrists, and move my own hips in a circular rhythm to match her pace. I can’t see her face but the moment is strangely intimate thanks to the way she’s letting me hold her, control her…as I tighten my grip on her wrists.

  She pauses, just for a moment, and I lighten my grip, worried I’ve been holding her wrists—which feel small and delicate in my large hand—too tightly.

  In response, I’m met with a reproachful gaze over her shoulder.

  “Don’t let go,” she says. Then she turns her head back away from me and resumes her pace. I can see beads of sweat rolling down her back and feel a thin layer of moisture break out over my own forehead as I struggle to contain the orgasm I’m dying to have. And then, without saying a thing, she lets out a cry of pleasure and I feel her wrists slightly strain against my grip as her body rocks on top of mine. I know I don’t have to hold back any more and let myself go, never loosening my hold on her wrists until her body comes to a shuddering stop on top of mine.

  ***

  That night, I had the best sleep I’ve had in years. I didn’t even come to when Cara slips out of my arms in the morning. I wake up to her coming out of the shower, just a towel wrapped around her.