Raise Your Game

by Cassia Leo

  I wear a lot more sunscreen these days.

  “I think I can manage on my own,” I call back to him, then I shut myself in the bathroom.

  Almost immediately, he knocks on the door.

  “What?” I call out, using the T-shirt I just peeled off to cover my breasts, despite the fact that I’m alone in the bathroom and I’m wearing a bra.

  “I just got the amendment to your compensation agreement from my lawyer. Do you want to look it over?”

  My stomach lurches at the mention of the demands I made last night in a fog of fury. “I’ll look at it after I’ve showered,” I reply.

  After I’ve showered, I stand in front of the mirror, contemplating what I should do, now that I realize I forgot to bring clean clothes into the bathroom. A few minutes of agonizing later, I let out a deep sigh and suck it up, emerging from the bathroom with nothing but a large towel wrapped around my body. Without a T-shirt to plop my hair, I’ve been forced to wrap my head in a regular terry cloth towel.

  Logan stands from the couch and stares at me, looking a bit dazed. I quickly head for the closet, where I hung my clean clothes yesterday. As I reach inside to grab the floral maxi dress I brought with me, Logan appears at my side, a dark, animal hunger in his eyes.

  “Do you need some help getting dressed?” he asks, tracing the tip of his finger down my neck and over my shoulder.

  As was the case during Tantra yoga, being close to Logan somehow relaxes me. I know I should resist temptation and tell him I can dress myself, but part of me wants to be taken care of. This reckless behavior probably stems from losing my mom as a teenager and having to take care of my dad before I lost him, as well. But I’ll leave the psychoanalysis to Dr. Mahoe.

  I hang the dress back up on the rod and turn toward Logan as I gently tug the towel off my head. My hair falls out in damp, tangled waves. He smiles as he reaches for the corner of the towel I’ve tucked in to keep the towel around my body from falling. He raises his eyebrows, asking for permission to remove it without saying a word. My breathing quickens as I nod for him to proceed.

  He gently untucks the corner of the towel, shaking his head as it falls into a puddle at my feet, exposing every inch of my naked body. “Holy fuck,” he murmurs as his hand reaches forward, landing on my hip. “I’ve never seen skin so creamy white,” he says, tracing the backs of his fingers up the curve of my waist. “So silky soft.”

  A shudder of pleasure makes my hair stand on end as his hand cups the underside of my breast. “White and soft…like a marshmallow?”

  He chuckles as his thumb brushes over my skin, making my nipple stand at attention. “Such perfect, pink nipples.” He looks into my eyes with an expression of pure awe. “This is going to sound corny as fuck, but you have the body of a Greek goddess, the ones they painted during the Renaissance and Enlightenment.” He shakes his head as he returns his gaze to my breasts. “I’m going to worship this body tonight,” he says, gently pinching my nipple, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a soft whimper escapes my mouth.

  I reach forward to undo the button and zipper on his cargo shorts — his tourist outfit as he has been referring to it since we arrived in Honolulu. His hands continue to explore my body, massaging my breasts, pampering my skin with feather-soft strokes over my back and down to my ass. I reach inside his shorts to feel his growing erection through his boxer briefs, and it’s more massive than I imagined.

  He leans his head back and groans as I move my hand up and down, stroking his rock-hard flesh. “Oh, fucking hell. I hope you know that when I’m done worshipping you, I am going to fuck you senseless.”

  I chuckle as I slide my hands off his member and underneath his T-shirt to feel those abs I’ve been unable to stop picturing since he took off his shirt during yoga. And they feel as smooth and firm as his cock. I tug his shirt up, and he takes my cue to yank it off. Taking a moment to admire his body the way he did mine, I smile when I see a shiny skin-colored scar on the right side of his abdomen.

  Tracing my finger down the groove between his abdominal muscles, I stop at the waistband of his boxers. As I slowly slide my hand inside, Logan’s hands come up to cup my face as he leans in and kisses me deeply. As his tongue dances with mine, stealing the breath from my lungs, I wrap my fingers around his erection. I stroke the length before cupping my hand over the head and lightly tease the sensitive ridge with my thumb. The sticky pre-cum on the tip makes my pussy ache to be filled.

  Without warning, he grabs my wrist and pulls it out of his pants, then he quickly scoops me up and carries me to the bed, laying my naked body down gently.

  He removes his shorts and boxers before lying next to me. “Before we begin, I want you to know that, you can stop this any time you want,” he says, his large hand landing on my belly and sliding up to cup my breast.

  “I know,” I reply with a nod as his hand begins a slow journey down my abdomen.

  “You’re certain you want to break rules one and three?” he asks, a devilish smile forming on his lips.

  “Right now, I’m ready to break all the rules.”

  He chuckles softly, but his eyes are still locked on my face, watching my reaction as his hand lands between my legs, covering my mound. I lift my hips toward his hand, the way I did when we were practicing the pelvic tilt pose in Tantra yoga a few hours ago. But this time, there’s no clothing between us. It’s skin on skin, man on woman, boss on employee.

  His finger slides gently over the seam of my swollen flesh, a whispering touch that makes my muscles tighten with anticipation. Tracing the line all the way down past my entrance and back again, he watches me intently as I close my eyes and arch my back slightly. Finally, he slips a finger inside me, and I let forth a small gasp.

  He gathers the slickness pooling between my thighs and spreads the natural lubricant to over my puffy lips. When I open my eyes, his gaze is still locked on my face, studying my reaction to his touch. His chest is heaving as he slowly smooths my arousal over my firm clit and massages it tenderly.

  He only does this for a few seconds before he slides the same finger inside his mouth to taste me. A slow smiles forms on his gorgeous face. “I’m going to enjoy devouring you.”

  My mouth drops open as he returns his hand to my pussy and begins stroking me again.

  The mild callus on his finger hurts so good. “Oh, God. Don’t stop. I’m almost there.”

  But he does the exact opposite. Removing his hand from between my thighs, he leaves my aching pussy on the bitter edge of satisfaction.

  He smiles at the look of dismay on my face. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you hanging,” he assures me as he lowers his head to lay a soft trail of kisses from my freckled shoulder and up the curve of my neck until his lips are pressed against my ear. “But I said I would worship this body,” he murmurs as his hand slides over my belly and past my breasts, stopping to cup my jaw. “And for letting me do as I wish, you’ll have an orgasm unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.”

  He slips a finger inside my mouth, the same one that was just inside me. “Taste yourself,” he commands me. “Do you taste that? Hints of salt and juicy melon.”

  It’s the first time I’ve tasted myself, and I can’t taste anything resembling melon. I swallow hard as I realize this man is a pussy connoisseur. As he leans over to kiss me, my breath catches in my throat and a deep moan reverberates in my mouth.

  This is when I say a mental prayer. God, please don’t let me flake out on tonight’s dinner with Jason and Kitty. Give me the strength to leave this bed.

  I coil my arms around his sturdy neck as he positions himself between my legs. We make-out like this for a while, skin on skin, the length of his erection pressed against my swollen pussy lips. His hands roam over my body, at times caressing gently other times grabbing greedily. My hands do the same, exploring ever taut muscle, his smooth ass, tracing the tempting V that points toward his gloriously beautiful cock.

  He plants soft kisses from my f
orehead down to my lips, continuing down to each breast, sucking gently on each nipple. I try not to tell him to hurry. I want his mouth on me so badly, but I’m beginning to understand that Logan does not want to rush this.

  When his face is between my legs, he looks up at me with a mischievous sparkle in his gray eyes. He plants lingering kisses along the creases where my thighs melt into my pussy. Using just his tongue, he massages the soft layers of skin, everywhere except my swollen bud.

  My hips seem to have a mind of their own as they rise off the mattress, attempting to get closer to that talented tongue. Logan takes that as a cue to slide his arms under my thighs, hooking his arms around my legs to steady me as he finally goes for my aching clit.

  He alternates between fucking me with his tongue, passionately kissing my clit, and sucking on the tiny, sensitive bump. Never focusing on any one area for too long, he draws out the pleasure for so long, I’m afraid that when I finally do climax, I might pass out. In fact, at one point I become so delirious with lust that I feel as if I’m floating.

  Finally, with incredible tenderness, he focuses his efforts on my clit. My entire body, from head to toe, begins to quake violently and uncontrollably, but this does nothing to deter him. The orgasm crashes into me with the force of a freight train. My fingers tangle in his hair as my body folds inward, all my muscles seizing up as I let out a wild moan.

  He covers my clit with his mouth, but he doesn’t move his lips or tongue. He just stays there until he’s certain the category-five orgasm has passed and it’s safe to come up for air.

  Sliding off the bed, he reaches into the back pocket of the shorts he removed earlier. He digs a condom out of his wallet, and I smile as he holds it up for me to see: Magnum X-large. He unrolls the condom over his erection and climbs onto the bed, threading his outstretched legs through the triangles of space under my bent knees. Reaching forward, he pulls me up and into his lap. He wants to have sex in the yab-yum pose we learned this morning.

  “You can get on your knees, if you want,” he murmurs as he wraps his arms around my waist. “So you can control how deep I go.”

  I shake my head as I take his face in my hands. “I want to do it the way we did it this morning. I want to wrap my legs around you. I know you’ll stop if it hurts… I trust you.”

  The corner of his mouth tugs upward into a careful but proud smile. “I won’t hurt you. I…” He’s silent for a moment, pondering something, then he plants a tender kiss on my forehead.

  I don’t know what he was about to say, and the mystery of it evaporates as he carefully slides into me. Using nothing but the strength in his bulging biceps and triceps, he lifts me up and down on his cock, kissing my breasts as he lowers me just a tiny bit farther with each stroke, until he’s all the way inside me.

  As he leans his forehead against mine, and our breathing syncs up, I realize I’ve never felt so full, so utterly complete in my life.

  When we’re both showered and dressed for our dinner with Kitty and Jason, Logan once again offers to show me the amendment to the compensation agreement his lawyer emailed to him. Now that we’ve just had mind-blowing sex, the offer almost seems like a form of payment. Like I’m some sort of high-priced prostitute. I know this is not the case, since he offered to show me the agreement before we had sex, so I will myself to push these toxic thoughts from my mind.

  I slide my phone into my small Kate Spade clutch and shake my head. “We can go over the agreement after dinner, once I’ve closed the deal with Kitty.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, probably wondering why I’m not asking him to slice open a vein so I can sign the amendment in his blood.

  I’m fully aware that not signing it right now removes the incentive to honor the terms of the amendment if he gets the information he needs before I sign. But the fact that he even had the new terms drafted shows trust. He has faith that, even if I sign the agreement, I will still deliver on my end and get the scoop from Kitty. I want him to know that I trust him back.

  “I’m positive,” I reply casually. “Besides, we have to leave now or we’ll be late for dinner.”

  When we arrive at the Bali Steak and Seafood restaurant in the neighboring resort, Logan and I order a bottle of wine and begin discussing our game plan as we wait for Kitty and Jason to get there. Once our dinner guests arrive, Logan and I are certain I will be able to coax the information out of Kitty once we’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. All Logan has to do is pretend to flirt with our waitress or ogle a few of the customers.

  By the time our dinner plates arrive, all four of us are feeling loose, and it actually warms my heart to see Jason and Kitty laughing together and exchanging brief touches and whispers here and there. Again, I begin to wonder if I can go through with this plan. But just as I’m about to express my doubts to Logan, Everett and Lindy show up with enormous grins on their face.

  Kitty – whose had more wine than any of us – gasps. “Oh, my God. Look! It’s another couple. Come, sit down. Join us.”

  Our server scrounges up a couple of extra chairs, and Everett takes the chair next to me, so I’m sandwiched between the two Pierce brothers.

  I lean over to whisper in Logan’s ear, “Did you know they were coming?”

  He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and the anger in his eyes as he glares at his brother makes me think he’s telling the truth.

  Logan and I spend the next thirty minutes attempting to steer the conversation toward safe topics, like our favorite fish and how we like our steak cooked or whether it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. But Everett or Lindy keep trying to direct the topic of discussion back to Logan and me. They want to know how our helicopter ride went. Was it romantic? Did it remind us of our honeymoon?

  Lindy takes center stage as she begins spewing about how Everett proposed to her and where they got married.

  “Where did you guys get married again? I can’t remember,” Everett remarks as he reaches for his glass of wine.

  Logan shakes his head. “You probably don’t remember because you couldn’t make it. Remember, brother?”

  Lindy wags a bony finger at Logan. “No, I’m pretty sure we were there.”

  Logan insists, “You don’t remember our wedding, Lindy, because you couldn’t make it.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure we were there. I remember you sealed your vows with a kiss and the wedding party pulled Super Soakers from behind the altar and started blasting the guests with water guns. It was so cute. So passé and gimmicky, but really cute.”

  Jason and Kitty laugh. “That really is cute,” Kitty beams. “I wish we had done something fun like that. We did a drive-through wedding in Vegas. It was quick, so the honeymoon was way funner than the ceremony.”

  Lindy and Everett appear defeated, but Lindy recovers quickly. “So, are you two looking forward to the vow renewal ceremony?”

  Logan and I turn to each other, completely dumbfounded.

  “Oh, you didn’t know the retreat ends with a vow renewal ceremony?” Lindy replies, relishing our confusion. “You’ll get up in front of everyone and renew your vows. There will even be a justice of the peace to make it official.”

  “Have you prepared your vows?” Everett asks as he lazily slices into his bloody steak.

  “When is the vow renewal?” I ask, attempting to sound casually curious.

  “It happens at the tribal council ceremony on the final day of the retreat,” Lindy replies.

  That must be the activity on the itinerary labeled “Declarations.”

  I put on my best disappointed face. “Oh, that’s unfortunate. We’re leaving in the morning on the final day of the retreat. I have something important I need to be back in New York for. But I’m sure we’ll get around to renewing our vows sometime soon.”

  Lindy shakes her head adamantly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Dr. Mahoe, and ask her to move the tribal council meeting earlier in the day, just for you guys.”

  Kitty is casting suspicious
looks in Logan’s direction, and it appears to be making him uncomfortable.

  Logan takes out his phone and texts me to tell me the women he met at the bar a couple nights ago are heading in our direction.

  My stomach tightens as I anticipate my heart is about to be broken. I want to bolt up and race back to the room to avoid the inevitable emotional annihilation.

  “Well, hello there, handsome,” says the blonde with the obviously fake boobs. “I can’t believe you left us hanging. We waited for you to come up to the room all night.”

  Wait a minute. He didn’t go up to the room?

  Logan introduces the blonde as Serafina, but he can’t seem to remember the other girl’s name.

  “Melina,” the brunette replies dryly.

  The blonde opens up her pink clutch and digs around inside before she comes up with a gold wedding band. “I thought if I took this thing you’d definitely come up, so you could get it back. Guess you’re not so easy, huh?” she says as she lays the ring on the table next to Logan’s glass of water. “Hope to see you around again. Toodles.”

  “It seems old habits die hard,” Lindy remarks as we all watch Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum saunter away.

  The ball of anxiety in my stomach relaxes as I realize Logan didn’t go up to the room with these women. But as soon as this comforting thought enters my mind, I quickly remember I have to pretend to be angry he even talked to them.

  “You didn’t tell me you met Melina and Serafina. You only told me about Dusty. And how the hell did they get your wedding ring? Did you take it off?” I ask him pointedly.

  Logan lays his hand on my thigh. “They were with Dusty. I didn’t think their presence was that important. And the ring was in my pocket for safekeeping. Remember the time I drank too much at poker night with the guys, and I lost the ring in a bad bet?”

  Ooh, he’s a smooth one. I’m not sure if I should be proud or terrified at how easily he lies.