by Serena Grey
“You have condoms?” he asks.
It’s really not a question. What self-respecting hooker wouldn’t have condoms? I start to panic, then I remember Laurie’s present. Thank the stars for Laurie, I think silently, opening my purse to retrieve the roll of condoms, before handing them to him.
He takes them, tossing them on the edge of the bed before going to sit on the armchair. I’m still standing by the door, and he motions for me to come farther into the room.
I walk towards him, suddenly very nervous. There’s something incredibly sexy about the way he’s leaning back on the chair with his body relaxed, and his long legs splayed out.
He raises a hand to stop me before I get to him. “Take off your clothes,” he says.
My fingers are trembling. Why are my fingers trembling? It’s been a while, but it’s not as if I’m inexperienced. I fumble with my zipper, trying clumsily to get it to go down. Finally, the dress falls down at my feet, and I’m standing in front of this sexy man dressed only in high heels, and my black lace panties and bra.
His face is unreadable. What should I do now? Go to him? Remain standing and wait for him to come and take what, as far as he knows, has been paid for? While all the thoughts are running through my mind, he arches a brow at me.
“All your clothes.”
God, that voice! I take a deep breath and reach behind me to unhook my bra, freeing my breasts as I pull it off my shoulders, before dropping it on the ground. His eyes drop from my face to my exposed breasts, and as if he’s actually touching them, my nipples respond to his gaze, the pink tips tightening and extending. I hook my fingers into the elastic band of my panties and pull them down far enough so they can fall on their own, and then I step out of them.
His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes don’t leave me. I watch as they move from my breasts down the length of my body.
“Get on the bed,” he orders, his voice a little rougher than before.
The bed is a king sized beauty. I imagine us, bodies, entwined, rolling around on it. Swallowing nervously, I walk over to the edge, turning around to face Landon before I lower myself onto the soft sheets.
Suddenly, he gets up from the armchair, towering over me as he starts first to undo his cuffs, and then to unbutton his shirt. “Take off your shoes, Rachel,” he says. “Pull up your legs and spread them, I want to see you touch yourself.”
My lips part almost involuntarily, and nervously, I wet them with my tongue. This should feel weird. But as I watch him undo his buttons to reveal the perfectly defined muscles of his chest, I can only feel the insistent pulsing increase between my legs, making me eager to do as he says. I kick off my shoes and lift my feet to the edge of the bed, lying back and spreading my legs slowly, relishing the fact that his eyes are focused on me. My fingers reach between my wet folds, slipping easily over the most sensitive parts of me, and I close my eyes, letting out a small moan.
“Open your eyes.” The words are a command. “Don’t close them. Don’t do anything unless I tell you to.”
I obey. His shirt is off now, and the sight of the hard muscles and the flat board that’s his stomach totally take my breath away. His body is perfectly sculpted, not bulky, just lean, strong, and flawless.
His trousers soon follow the path of the shirt. At the sight of the hard, straining ridge in his briefs, I lick my lips again, transfixed. I want to see him. I want to touch him. I want to run my tongue over his nipples and lick the taut skin over his muscles. I feel unlike myself, as if the girl I usually am has disappeared, leaving a hedonistic alter-ego to take over. I want him in my mouth, inside me. I want him to grab hold of my legs and hold me still while he plunges deep into me. The thought is almost enough to make me come… I release a soft, helpless moan and rub myself harder. My insides are throbbing with desire. I want to beg him to hurry. I move a finger down to the wet pulsing entrance to my body, then slip it inside. My body clenches sweetly. I want more.
My eyes follow his movements as he pulls down his briefs to reveal the full length of his throbbing erection, and I moan again, begging him with my eyes to hurry. He reaches for the condoms, and I watch as he rolls one onto his hard, turgid length.
My breathing is coming in pants now, and I can’t take my eyes off him. He advances towards me, his erection fisted in his hand. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want him inside me at this moment.
Kneeling on the bed between my legs, he reaches for my hand, stilling the movement of my fingers. Then he takes over, palming me while he slips two fingers inside me.
My body clenches eagerly and I groan, spreading my legs wider as his fingers slide in and out, stroking the sensitive places inside me. His thumb finds my clit, and he plays leisurely with the swollen mass of nerves, driving me crazy. I grab hold of the sheets, my hips moving shamelessly to meet his fingers.
“Don’t stop.” I moan, feeling the beginning of an orgasm. I need this so much. “Oh, please don’t stop.”
In reply, he inserts another finger and my brain shuts down. I cry out as my body tightens, then shatters in a massive explosion of pure pleasure.
I don’t even have time to catch my breath before he grabs hold of my legs and pulls me towards him, plunging into me with one swift movement. I cry out helplessly, surrendering myself to the pleasure as he fills me, thrusting deep with every rock-hard stroke.
I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. My whole body feels warm and sweet. I can already feel another climax coming as heat spreads from my core. He picks up his pace, his chest tightening as he pumps harder and faster. He grunts softly with each sure thrust, his eyes closed, his lips slightly open as he grinds his hips into me. I come with a loud moan, my body spasming as the waves of pleasure wash over me. He plunges deeper, a loud groan escaping his lips as his climax seizes him and leaves him panting, his chest heaving as he releases my legs.
MY legs fall back on the bed, shaking uncontrollably. Even though the air in the room is cool, there’s a sheen of sweat on my skin, and on Landon’s too, making his chest and arms gleam in the soft light of the room.
He pulls out of me, still slightly hard, making my body pulse with post-orgasmic pleasure. I sigh and fall back on the pillows, watching him through heavy eyes while he gets up and takes care of the condom.
He returns to the bed to join me, handing me a tissue. After I’ve cleaned up, he takes it back from me and tosses it. We’re both silent, and I start to wonder what he’s thinking. I shouldn’t care. It’s just a one-night stand after all. Although, if I'm honest, it has turned out to be the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.
“I can’t feel my legs.” I almost don’t realize I’ve said the words out loud, and when I do, I chuckle softly, slightly embarrassed.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Landon replies, “I can’t feel mine either.”
We both laugh. Even his laugh is sexy, deep and soft. He’s so good-looking, so perfect. I can’t even fathom why he would ever need a hooker.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Go on,” he says.
“Why would someone who looks like you ever need a hooker?”
His eyebrow goes up. “Looks like me?” he repeats.
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. Someone as hot as you are.”
“Not to mention devastating in bed,” he adds with a grin.
I hold up my hand. “I didn’t say that.”
“No,” he’s still grinning, “but you said you couldn’t feel your legs.”
“Okay, devastating in bed,” I concede with a small laugh. “Why would you ever need a hooker?”
He thinks for a moment. “Are all your clients unattractive?”
Ha! My clients. I pause, wondering what to say. “Yes,” I reply finally, imagining a string of lonely older men. “Some are too busy for relationships, others are just adventurous.”
“Maybe I’m busy and adventurous.”
My gaze travels over the raw beauty of his
face. A man who looks like him wouldn’t even need to snap his fingers for women to come running. He was obviously rich too, and yes, devastating in bed. So devastating in fact, that right now, all I want is to run my hands down that hard chest and over his stomach…
The silence stretches, and I wonder if I should go, or wait for him to tell me that he’s done with me for tonight.
“Do you want another drink?” he asks. “Some water?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine, thanks.”
He sits up to look at me, affording me a better view of his still naked body. He’s still hard, I notice, excitement making me wet my lips before I realize that he’s watching me stare at his cock.
I blush, embarrassed.
“You’re not tired,” he asks, “are you?”
Slowly I shake my head.
“Good.” He runs his hand down the side of my body, burning a path from my shoulder to my hip. I’m suddenly trembling, my skin tingling as he touches me. His hand moves to my back, sliding over my skin until he’s cupping my butt.
My breath quickens, and he smiles at me. Gently, he turns me over so I’m lying on my stomach, with my back to him. He runs his hands over my buttocks, softly stroking the sensitive skin before kneading each cheek firmly.
I let out a soft sigh, and in response he places his hands under my belly on both sides, pulling me up on my hands and knees. Then with one hand still on my stomach, he slips the other one between my legs from behind, feeling how wet I am before sliding two fingers inside me.
I close my eyes, my body twisting as he moves his fingers, spreading them even while he moves them in and out again. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice raspy, “so wet and so hot.”
My body tightens and I move my hips impatiently, desperate for him to be inside me. I wait as he reaches for the condoms again, then his hands are on my waist, positioning me so he can slide slowly inside me.
He takes his time, pushing in slowly to the very hilt. His fingers tighten against my waist. “You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers, flexing his hips slowly as he slides out, then in again. “You feel so good.”
His voice, combined with the slow, sure thrusting of his cock inside me, pushes me over the edge. My body starts to shake uncontrollably as hot pleasure builds in my core. He bends over me, plunging faster as he reaches for my breasts, teasing my unbearably swollen nipples. I cry out, my whole body tightening with the intensity of my climax.
He doesn’t stop. Instead, he leans back up, gripping my thighs and lifting my legs off the bed. I clutch at the sheets, moaning weakly with each hot, sweet stroke. His grunts blend with my weak cries, as he thrusts into me with an intense sexual abandon. Heat gathers in my core, pulsing, spreading, and my body tightens again as another orgasm washes over me. In the next moment, I hear his loud groan as he slams deep into me and comes.
He releases my legs and collapses on top of me. Our bodies are slippery with sweat as we both try to catch our breaths. He pulls out of me and gets rid of the condom.
“Now, I definitely can’t feel my legs,” I whisper, half panting.
“Me neither,” he says, surprising me by pressing a kiss on my shoulder. I smile at him and he smiles back, the expression on his face almost boyish. Then he falls back on the pillows on his side of the bed.
In the silence that follows, our breathing slowly returns to normal. What now? I wonder. It’s probably time for me to go. I stare at his naked body with regret. This has undoubtedly been the best night of my life.
“The elevator doesn’t require a code to leave,” he says, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Just press the call button.”
I don’t say anything. I feel unaccountably sad. He turns to his side to look at me, a small frown on his face. Then he gets up and picks his trousers from the floor. He retrieves a black leather wallet and removes a couple of bills, coming around to place them on the nightstand on my side of the bed.
“I know you’ve been paid,” he says, “but consider that a bonus.”
I give him a small smile, but I can’t think of anything to say. Thank you? Is this when I tell him that I’m not the hooker he was expecting? He comes back to lie on the bed beside me. “You can leave when you’re less tired,” he says, already dismissing me, “and don’t forget to leave your number.”
He closes his eyes. I don’t know if he’s sleeping. Briefly, I toy with the idea of leaving my number, but I soon dismiss the foolish thought. He thinks I’m a hooker, which means he’s probably already forgotten about me. I’ve had a beautiful night, filled with great sex, and I can go back to my life and try to work on the things that matter, like getting over Jack.
I wait a while, then I get up and pull on my clothes. Leaving the money on the nightstand, I make my way back to the foyer. Like he said, the elevator doesn’t need a code to leave, and in a few minutes, I’m out on the sidewalk hailing a cab to take me back home.
SOMETHING is tickling my ear, persistently trying to drag me away from the dream where a beautiful man with dark gold hair and beautiful blue eyes is kissing a sweet path from my navel down between my thighs.
The tickling intensifies, and the dream disappears. “Go away,” I mutter sleepily, covering my ear with one hand. The tickling moves to the skin behind my ear. Sighing, I open one eye, and then the other. My room is bright with early morning sun, even though it seems like I just stumbled into bed at 1a.m. a few minutes ago. I still feel a little tired, but my body also feels light and sweet, with a delicious ache between my legs. As the memory of last night fills my head, I can’t prevent the small smile that comes to my lips.
“So?” I turn around. Laurie is sitting on the other side of my bed, still wearing her favorite sleep attire of a thigh length t-shirt. Her instrument of torture, a frilly scarf, is dangling from her hand. At the moment, one perfect eyebrow is raised questioningly, waiting for a reply to… whatever she’s asking me.
“What?” I scowl at her, but she just smiles, ignoring me. At times like these, I start to rethink our decision to get an apartment together after college. At the time, we’d been so excited, refusing our parents’ offers to help as we looked forward to finally striking out on our own. After spending two weeks looking at rat-infested apartments that we couldn’t even afford, my dad had recommended a new agent, who showed us a beautiful apartment on Murray Hill. It was perfect, and we both fell in love with it, only discovering later that the lease had already been paid, by our parents.
We’d sulked and complained, but we’d moved in, because it was close to both our offices and we’d already fallen in love with it.
“You can always pay us back,” Laurie’s mom, Aunt Jacie had said diplomatically, enabling us to call a truce.
Now Laurie rolls her eyes, bringing me back to the present. “Sweetie, don’t you think there’s stuff you need to tell me?”
I shake my head. “No… It’s Saturday, I want to sleep.”
“Come on…” she cajoles, lying down so her head is just inches away from mine on the pillow, “I want to know what happened last night.” She taps the pillow in front of my face. “You can’t just go to a party, come back in the a.m., and have nothing for me.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want after I get some sleep,” I plead, even though I know it’s useless. Laurie is an old hand at bugging a person relentlessly until the victim has no choice but to give in to her.
“You’ve slept enough,” she argues firmly. “Come on… Did you have sex with him?”
I frown, then realize there’s no way she can know about Landon. “Who?”
“Chadwick, of course. Who else?” She peers at me. “I kinda assumed you finally gave in, throwing caution to the wind and all that.”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t. You know I don’t find him attractive.”
She gives me an exasperated look. “A man with Chadwick Black’s looks is attractive to everyone.”
“I wonder what your boyfriend will think about that statement,�
�� I chide. “Where’s Brett, by the way? I thought he was spending the night.”
“He’s asleep in my bed. He had a very tiring night.” Laurie winks. “So what happened? Why’d you come in so late?”
Even though she’s my cousin and best friend, I find myself hesitating to tell her. There’s something about what happened last night that makes me want to keep it to myself. To treasure every moment in my memories, and bring them out to ponder when I’m alone, selfishly, like a miser over his hoard of gold.
But I know Laurie. And she knows me. There’s no way I’ll get away with lying to her.
I sit up on the bed and rest my back on the headboard. Sensing that there’s a good story coming, Laurie grins and sits up, sliding easily into the lotus position, a commonplace feat I’ve never been able to accomplish. Unlike me, Laurie continued with ballet until she was fifteen. So in addition to being stunningly beautiful, she moves so gracefully that it’s a pleasure just to look at her. She picks up her bowl of cereal from the nightstand, watching me expectantly as she continues her breakfast.
I sigh. “So I went to the party.”
“Yeah... ok. And…?”
“And…” I pause. “Jack was there.”
“No!” Laurie looks as if she’s swallowed something gross. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him. Please tell me you didn’t.” She frowns. “Is that why the jerk was here last night? Did something happen?”
“Jack was here?”
She presses her lips together and rolls her eyes. “Yes, around eleven. He buzzed, I didn’t let him in. I told him you were out with Chadwick. I may have insinuated just a little that you were getting it on with the sexy photographer.”
