by Gina Blake
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Tender Lusting Care
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Tender Lusting Care
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Tender Lusting Care
by
Gina Blake
Good Girls Do Book Three
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Tender Lusting Care
COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Gina Blake
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2018
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1960-5
Published in the United States of America
Tender Lusting Care
“Hey, boss. Phone. Says her name is Meg.”
“Thanks, Harvey.” Gemma Collins smiled and took the phone from her second-in-command of the hotel she managed. “Hi, Meg. How are you?”
A sniffle followed her query. This wasn’t going to be good.
“Hey, hun. What’s up?” she ventured.
“He just…” Heck, her friend didn’t sound too happy. In fact, she sounded close to tears.
“Is it Rusty?” She maneuvered around Harvey so she could keep her conversation private but still keep an eye on the lobby.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Tell me what’s happened?” A long, low sigh followed Gemma’s inquiry.
Meg, and one or two other girlfriends, made a habit of crying on Gemma’s shoulder. Obviously, it was Meg’s turn to call for advice. She waited for Meg to get a grip on her emotions.
“He dumped me, Gemma. Like I meant nothing at all to him.”
“He what? Sweetheart, I don’t care if he is the most gorgeous hunk to ever fit into an airline uniform. He’s done this before, and you know it. The guy’s a jerk, hun.” It pained her listening to Meg’s heartbreaking tale, but she needed a friendly ear right now. “He’s definitely not worthy of those tears.”
“What would you do?” Meg asked with another sniffle.
“Do you really want to know? Forget about him. Stay footloose and fancy-free ‘til Mr. Right comes along. He’ll come along some day, but until he does, I like to give all those Mr. Right-Nows a little tender lusting care. I give ‘em what they want if I’m so inclined, but I hold the reins. That’s very important.”
When she was certain she had her friend’s full attention, she went on. “I like to dress up, you know, role play. I have quite a neat little closet of sexy costumes. It’s fun. Men love it. When you’ve had enough flying, quit? Think about it.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I love flying. Besides, I’m not as confident with men as you are.”
Gemma looked at the rotating door of the hotel and the torrential rain outside. She’d need to get someone on mop duty ASAP. Guests would be tracking water into the lobby.
“Sorry, hun, gotta go now. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, and we have steady stream of latecomers. Think about what I said, and I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye.”
Gemma put down the phone, straightened the jacket of her dark blue suit, and took up her usual Friday night position behind the reception desk of the Circle Hotel. She could keep a close watch on things and head off any problems that might arise. It was also her favorite spot for keeping an eye out for men who might need some tender lusting care, and although any time was a good time, Friday night was usually the best.
Not that she needed to be on reception. She was the manager after all and answerable to no one except her good friend and boss, Victoria Greenwood, to whom she was grateful for giving her this job. Where else but a high quality hotel could she find high quality men who might be looking for high quality sex? Her dream had always been to manage a hotel, so when Victoria decided to delve into the tourist trade and offered her the opportunity, Gemma had grabbed it with both hands.
They shared the same interests, after all—men and sex, among other things. They often met for coffee, together with their mutual friend, Charlotte Carter, to discuss their lives as well as their latest male conquests.
Gemma watched the intermittent stream of Friday-nighters as they came through the door out of the rain and squeezed her thighs together. She had a good feeling about tonight. Since she was feeling particularly horny, finding the right sexy guy to bond with was imperative to her sexual satisfaction.
****
Icy rain beat into Scott Jensen’s face as he ran across the road toward the hotel before the threatening deluge hit full force. Horns blared as he dodged in and out of the line of cars. A luxury hotel such as this wasn’t his usual watering hole, but he sure as hell didn’t want to get caught in the heavy rain just to save a few dollars up the road. He’d have been a damned sight colder and wetter if he tried to make it on the busy sidewalk. He could handle a little luxury for one night.
Besides, he was tired, far from home, and alone. No. Not just alone. He was lonely. Had been ever since his wife left him five years ago and he’d buried himself in work. What he could do with tonight was a warm, willing woman. One who would jerk him off. Suck him. Fuck him all night. Fat chance! Besides, he had too much work to catch up on.
The wheels of the suitcase he dragged behind him caught in the swinging doors, but he managed to get them free, pushed the door open, and entered a warm, welcoming ambience that almost bowled him over. He stood for a few moments, drinking in the atmosphere before heading toward the reception desk. Absorbing the warmth as he waited in line to check in, he looked around the well- appointed lobby. Heck, the place was crowded, buzzing with activity. He hoped they had a room available on a wet Friday night.
Finally, a sexy looking chick in a dark blue suit, about twenty-five, came toward him and smiled. Wow! She sure was a stunner. Flawless complexion, the kind of soft cheeks a man likes to run the back of his fingers over, oh, so gently. Glorious hair, the color of wheat in sunshine perfectly complimented her pale skin. That shiny mane fell over one shoulder, ending at her magnificent cleavage that begged for a man’s hand to fondle. Not just any man’s hands. His.
Don’t even think about it. You have plenty to keep you busy.
“Can I help you, sir?” Even her voice had a soft, sexy tone.
Oh babe, you could help me tonight, that’s for sure. He tried to smile even as a sudden rush of blood tented his pants, pulling them tight across his eager cock. Down boy. “I’m hoping you have a room for the night,” he said, looking around as nonchalantly as he could, “but you look crowded. Are you full?”
She glanced at him under her lashes. “Oh, I’m sure we can find you a room, sir.”
His pants pulled tighter. He smiled, aware of the heat rising up his neck. “I’d be grateful if you could.”
She moved to a computer and tapped a few keys. “Yes, here we are. A cozy, single room on the third floor. Will that suit?” she asked, flashing him another glance.
Was she giving him the come on? No such luck. Right now though, he was glad she’d found a room for him. He sighed with relief. “Cozy, huh? Sounds great. Tha
nks.”
“And will sir be wanting dinner tonight?”
He managed another smile. “Yes, I would. I’ll be down in about an hour.” That would give him plenty of time to get out of these wet clothes and…
The thought of eating a lukewarm meal in a dining room full of people suddenly made him want to gag. Nothing like a room full of people, all talking and laughing, to make a guy feel more alone than ever.
Dammit. He wouldn’t eat in the dining room. He’d have his fucking dinner in his fucking room and have a fucking hard wank. He could certainly do with one. He was overdue some solo pleasure. It wasn’t as though he’d be hurting anyone else. He’d just be making himself feel a little better. Well, better than he was feeling right now anyway. And he still had work to do. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll have dinner in my room.”
“Certainly, sir.” She handed him the card key. “Room three one one.”
“Thanks.” He reached out to take the key. Did she hold on to it a little longer than necessary? Nah! It was his imagination.
He smiled and she smiled back pleasantly, almost as though she knew what he was thinking. Finally. Hopefully. Wishfully.
But she made no further indication she felt the same and relinquished the key. He headed for the elevator.
“Hold the lift!” an English voice called. A well-dressed man got in and pushed the button for the second floor. “Thanks, mate. Rotten night out there.”
“Sure is.” If this elevator didn’t move any faster he’d come in his pants.
The more he thought about the fantasy of the receptionist, the harder and hotter his cock grew. He mashed his lips as they stood in silence watching the indicator move at a snail’s pace.
The Englishman got out at the second floor. “Ta!”
After what seemed like an age, it finally stopped at the third floor. He hurried along the corridor, conscious of the material rubbing his cock as he walked.
Letting himself into the room, he put down his case and laptop, slipped off his suit jacket, and hung it on the coat rack. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes as a vision of the pretty blonde receptionist entered his mind. Hell, he wished he’d had the nerve to flirt with her.
Resigned to another lonely night, almost absently, he yanked down the zipper of his pants, shoved his hand inside, and began to rub his naked cock. Oh hell, that felt good. He hadn’t had a good wank in a while. Maybe tonight would be the night he would, and what the hell? No one could see him shut in a lonely, if cozy, little room.
His pants fell around his knees as he moved toward the bed. He sat heavily and pumped his dick, needing relief. Fuck, it felt good. Maybe he could hold back a while. Make it last. What did the guys call that? Edging, that was it.
But the more he stroked, the more his cock screamed for release. Edging could wait for a little later. Right now, he gasped with need. He moaned with relief. He grunted with pleasure.
“Oh fuck. Oh yeah. Oh fuck, I’ve so gotta come.” No matter how hard he tried to hold back, he couldn’t slow down. His balls hardened, his belly tightened, and four spurts of cum shot from his ruddy crown and landed in his pants still stuck around his knees. “Damn. I should have kicked them off.”
Panting, heart racing, he lay back, fondling his cock a while longer before finally kicking his pants over his ankles. Once his breath evened out, he got up, hefted his suitcase onto the bed, and rummaged through his clothing until he found his black running shorts. He slipped them on. Oh yeah, he liked the feel of the cool, smooth satin against his heated flesh.
Having taken off the edge, he headed to the mini-bar next to the TV, poured himself a scotch and soda, and turned to glance at his reflection in the mirror. Hell, but he looked awful. Brown eyes peered back at him through dark circles. A few gray hairs at his temples reminded him he was getting on in years. Some men thought it gave them a distinguished charm, but he thought it made him just plain old. Man, he sure felt it. Hell, he was thirty-nine. Forty next birthday. Forty! Ye gods.
Maybe because his sex life had been seriously lacking of late was the reason he felt so—blah. A few years ago, he’d have given the gals what for. And they him. What he needed was some serious, hard core sex. But where would he get it?
Most of the women he knew were either ice maidens or overly flirtatious married women whose husbands “didn’t understand them.” He didn’t want to get involved with women like that. He’d seen the complications it brought to some of his buddies. And there were those women who batted for the other team. Neither could he be bothered with the whole rigmarole of the dating game. He wiped a clammy hand over his face. Was he past it already? Oh, man, you’re a loser.
Wait a minute. His spirits lifted. He could get some decent porn on his laptop. He’d done it a couple of times before. He placed his laptop on the table facing the bed, logged on, and found his favorite porn site—women showing their all while saying dirty, sexy things and moaning from deep in their throats. He loved dirty talk.
Hell, was this really all he had to look forward to? Jerking in front of a computer, watching porn.
The prominent bulge in his boxers told him yes. Then dammit, he’d go for it.
While stroking his needy cock, he waited for his meal to arrive. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching the blonde on the screen run her fingers over her pussy. It didn’t take long for him to feel the familiar need to come again.
He checked his watch. “What the hell. I’ve got time for a quickie.”
The silky satin leg of his shorts slid aside so he could massage his cock, and he stroked the tip until his belly tightened. He was almost there. “Oh, that feels fuckin’ fantastic.”
A knock at the door made him sit up with a start.
He stopped rubbing and groaned. “Shit! I haven’t finished.”
“Housekeeping,” a woman’s voice called.
“Uh, just give me a minute.” In desperation, he rubbed his cock harder.
“I have your dinner,” the soft, feminine voice answered.
“You’re early.” Frantic to finish, he pumped as hard as he could.
The door handle rattled.
“Wait!”
Either she was in a hurry or she didn’t hear him, but she marched in. Fuck. It was the sexy blonde from reception. His hand stilled, more with surprise than the fact he’d been caught. She had changed her clothing and was now dressed as a French maid, complete with little white apron. What the heck did that mean?
Holding a tray of food, she smiled at the moaning woman on the computer, then down at him.
“Good evening, sir,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Enjoying the entertainment, I see. I’ll just put the tray on the bedside table. Don’t stop what you’re doing on my account.” She sashayed across the room, her hips swaying proactively, and placed the tray on the nightstand. “Nice looking package.”
“Nice looking—?” Did she really think so? He panted. His dick was screaming for action. “You’re not shocked catching me doing this?”
She laughed over her shoulder. “Not at all.”
“You seen many? Guys jacking off, that is?” What a dumbass thing to say.
She winked and clicked her teeth. “Sure have.”
“Not going to report me to management, then?”
“Heck no.” She turned fully to look at him. “I love watching a guy masturbate. It’s a real turn-on.” She grinned cheekily. “And I especially like dick slips.”
He moistened his lips. “So, are you turned on right now?”
Her eyes flashed. “Well and truly.”
He pulled the leg of his shorts further up, revealing his entire package to her eager gaze, and wrapped his fingers around his shaft. Oh hell, he was closer than he’d thought. And having her watching him…
“I’m going to come any minute,” he gasped.
“Then come.” Gemma’s breath caught, and her excitement grew as she watched him lift his hips and pump his dick. Her clit throbbed as she stood,
hands on hips, with her legs slightly apart. His thick cock strained for release. Oh, wouldn’t she love to get her hands around that tasty morsel. “Don’t mind if I watch, do you?”
He released his bottom lip. “That’s—that’s fine with me. I never knew women liked to watch men jack off.”
Her tongue flicked out to moisten dry lips as she edged a little closer to the bed. “Of course, they do. Just as many girls watch guys jacking off on the internet as men watch women. That feels good, yeah?”
He swallowed. “Fuckin’ fantastic.”
She couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across her face. “It excites me to see a man really get into it, up close and personal.”
Somehow, her words seemed to encourage him further. “Oh hell. I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Her heart raced as she waited for his release. “Don’t let me stop you. Better yet, why don’t I finish you off?”
“Go for it!”
His eyes opened a little, watching her under half closed lids. Could he see the pleasure on her face? Lust overtook her. Hell, but she was hornier than she’d thought. But she wasn’t quite quick enough. He sucked in a deep, urgent breath.
“Urgh. Too late,” he grunted as cum exploded from his cockhead, flowed over his hand, and down his legs. “Oh, fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuckin’ fuck.”
His body bucked in the rapture of the moment, the muscles in his legs and groin rippling. Beads of sweat glistened on his abs below the bottom of his shirt. She wanted to lick them off. And maybe she would later. Then he lay still, his semi-erect cock resting on his thigh. He opened his eyes, his gaze asking if he’d blown a chance with her.
Not a chance. Mr. Lonely Eyes was her mission for tonight. She wanted to make him feel good, special. As though he were king of the world.
“Sorry,” she said to reassure him. “I’ll get it next time.”
“Next time?” Scott chuckled as his confidence returned. Next time sounded hopeful. “If you want to touch it now, I’ll be as meek as a lamb.”
She laughed. “Mmm. Let’s get to it while you’re still hot and hard.”
Oh fuck! Just the thought of her touching his cock almost sent him over the edge. He didn’t care if his body twitched. He didn’t care if he yelled at the top of his lungs. He didn’t care if he pumped his hips in her hand with all the energy he could muster. All he wanted was his cock in her hand. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. No one had touched him in a while.
