by Julia Harlow
“What is it, Dorrie? What’s happened? Why are you crying?” He strode into the room, looked at the clothes arranged on the bed, and stood with his hands at his sides, his brow crinkled with concern, clearly puzzled.
She waved her hand toward the bed and sobbed. “This.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, edging toward her, his head cocked to one side.
“You . . . you . . . bought me all this.” She waved her hand at the clothes again and crumpled on the side of the bed. He lowered himself down beside her and carefully draped his arm around her shoulders.
“And? I thought you’d be surprised. And pleased.”
“No, you thought I’d embarrass you with my pathetic wardrobe!” she wailed. His forehead creased as he stood up slowly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“That’s quite an insult you just hurled at me. Do you think I’m that petty?” His voice was low, too low, and Dorrie peeked up at him. “If you don’t like the clothes, send them back.”
He headed for the door and had almost reached it when Dorrie called out, “Wait!”
He turned slowly, his hand hovering near the door handle, frowning at her.
“I never meant to insult you.” She sniffed and drew a tissue out of the container on the bedside chest, wiping her eyes. “I was just shocked, really, never expecting to find all this when I came into the room.” She gestured toward the clothes. “I’m really sorry, Grant. This is all so new to me, hopping on planes to points unknown, staying in luxury hotels.” She tried to smile up at him but could only manage a small one.
His frown didn’t soften. “You’d better figure out what it is you want, then. I’ll wait for ten more minutes on the terrace, and if you don’t come, I’ll assume you’ve changed your mind about this whole project.” And with those harshly spoken words, he closed the door behind him with a decisive thunk.
~*~
Grant stood with his back to the entrance to the terrace, one hand on the railing overlooking the ocean, the other holding a tumbler of single malt scotch. He heard the click of heels behind him, and felt a hand on his shoulder.
Dorrie leaned in to whisper, “I really am sorry. It was a silly over-reaction. Please forgive me.”
He slowly turned to regard her. His eyes softened at her words, and his groin stiffened as he got a full look at her. The sleeveless yellow dress with the scooped neckline showed off her milky white shoulders and neck, and her ample breasts were outlined to perfection. The slim red leather belt highlighted her small waist, and the matching red stilettos almost did him in. He leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth, breathing in her clean, fresh scent, and whispered, “You’re forgiven.”
They spent the evening at an Italian restaurant, devouring the specialties of the house and enjoying each other’s company. Finally, the topic turned to business.
“So, let’s talk about tomorrow, shall we?” Grant began.
“Sure.”
“The photo shoot is in the morning at the hotel. I’d like you to be there. That way you’ll get a first-hand look at what I do. I also want you to meet the people who work with me: my hair stylist and makeup artist. How does that sound?”
“Fine. But when can we start the interview?”
“Maybe we’ll get a start on it tonight.”
“Tonight? Aren’t you too tired?”
His azure eyes twinkled. “No, I’m wide awake.”
When they got back to the hotel, Grant suggested they go to his suite. When Dorrie predictably balked, he hurried to add, “There’s a separate living room where we can start the interview. Come on.”
His suite did have a lovely living room, and Dorrie sank down on the upholstered sofa, wincing. “Do you mind if I slip these heels off? You really know how to pick ’em, Grant. What are they? Five inches?”
He chuckled, shrugged off his jacket, and loosened his tie. He settled close to her, lifting her calf up on his thigh, and slid her shoe off. He repeated the same with the other foot and proceeded to massage first one bare foot then the other as Dorrie leaned her head back on a couch cushion and moaned with pleasure. “Oh, God. That feels so good. Don’t stop. Ever.”
He cocked his head and laughed, giving a final rub to each arch. “You have exquisite feet. High arches and perfect toes. They’re quite sexy, you know.”
Her eyes were closed, so she wasn’t prepared when he thrust her legs apart and stretched on top of her, asking in a low growl, “How long did you think I could resist you, Dorrie? Not a moment goes by when I don’t think of our night together and wonder what it would feel like to have you underneath me, to be inside you.” He kissed and licked her throat, working his way to her jawline, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, and then her mouth. His lips moved over hers in a long, hot kiss until she opened for him, and his teeth grazed her bottom lip before he slipped his tongue inside and groaned with sheer pleasure.
“I have my clean bill of health.”
Her eyes shot open at that, and she panted. “What?”
He pulled back to gaze down on her, one finger tracing the space above the neckline of her dress, along her silky skin. She shivered.
“I thought I’d be ready this time. I can barely think about anything else.”
“And what about the interview?”
“They’ll be plenty of time for that. I promise you’ll have my undivided attention.”
“What about my contract with Omni and the morals clause?”
“Fuck the morals clause. Besides, our first night together was before I knew you worked for Omni, and before you knew who I was. No one has to know about this but you and me, Dorrie. It will be our secret.”
“What about the giddy smiles on our faces tomorrow?”
He threw his head back again and barked out a loud laugh. “I promise to frown as much as possible.”
When Dorrie arched her pelvis into his hard erection, he shuddered. Lifting his considerable weight off of her, he took her hand and pulled her up, leading her to the suite’s bedroom.
On the way, she asked a question, “How did you know my sizes?”
He turned and, cupping her face in his hands, grinned down at her. “I’m pretty good at guessing a woman’s measurements.” He trailed his hands over her bare shoulders, down her arms, clasped them around her waist, and drifted them over her hips. “And I knew your approximate height and weight, so it wasn’t too hard. Did I get everything right?”
“How would I know? I only had time for this outfit because some crank was rushing me.” She grinned, gazing up at him. As he bent down to cover her mouth with his, his fingers found the zipper on the back of her dress and inched it down. His tongue explored her mouth, and when she moaned and leaned into him, he felt the heat. Everywhere.
This woman not only looked sumptuous and intrigued him with her insatiable curiosity and joie de vivre, but she was a passionate lover. He sensed that she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her, and it made him more aroused than he’d ever been in his life. Even if he made love to her all night long, he knew it would never be enough.
Dorrie pulled back and started unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers shaking. Watching her progress, he stood still as her fingertips grazed over his T-shirt. The slight contact jolted him. She pulled his shirt out of his slacks, slid it off his shoulders, and let it rustle to the floor. Next came his T-shirt. She tilted her head, soft waves brushing his bare skin, and she spread little wet kisses across his hard, muscular chest, while her hands explored the ridges of his abdomen.
“I don’t know how long I can make it, Dorrie. I need to spread you out wide and sink my cock into you and soon.” He panted. “Very soon.”
Her little giggle was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. But she didn’t stop her explorations. Instead, she shimmied out of her dress and dropped to her knees in front of him. In no time, she’d unbuckled and whipped off his belt, unzipped him in an effort to get over the sizable package, and divested him of his trousers and boxer
briefs.
“You didn’t think I could pass up the opportunity to taste you, did you, now that I know you’re clean?” His body convulsed, and his cock jerked at the sound of those words, not to mention the sight of her luscious mouth about to . . .
“Jesus, Dorrie! What are you doing to me?” His head lolled back as he spread his legs apart to keep his balance. Her hot mouth took almost his entire length, and her hands cupped his buttocks, urging him in farther.
She breathed in deeply while she continued to suck him harder, hollowing her cheeks and making him crazy. His hands grasped her head as he took over, fucking her mouth faster and harder, groaning and struggling for air.
He’d always been in complete control with women, but Dorrie drove him wild, and somehow he knew she would love it if he gave her everything. So he did, coming hard in her mouth as she struggled to swallow spurt after spurt of copious cum, while he murmured sweet words of encouragement, telling her how much he loved fucking her mouth.
His chest and face were slick with perspiration. He gasped for air, but managed to pull her up to him and envelop her in his arms. “Too much more of that and my heart’s going to give out,” he said between deep breaths. “Christ, Dorrie, that’s the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my entire life.”
With his arms still around her, he unclasped her bra and let it slip to the floor. Then he drew back, and his eyes lingered first on her mouth then her breasts then lower to her little pink panties. He bent and picked her up, carrying her to the bed where he gently laid her down.
He knew the anticipation was almost more than Dorrie could withstand. But damn if he wasn’t going to take his sweet time. When he stretched out beside her and leaned up on one elbow, he watched her struggle not to grab his hand and drag it between her legs. Then she took a deep breath and said, “To quote a very wise man, I don’t know how long I can make it.”
After a low chuckle, he whispered, “All good things come to those who wait.”
“At this point, I’m only interested in coming.”
He laughed and said, “Hush. I promise I’ll take good care of you.” Then he bent his head and took her mouth, slowly, deliberately, sucking on her bottom lip while his fingers feathered back and forth over her collarbone. She twisted the sheet in her fists in frustration but became distracted when his hands cupped her breasts, taking his time to give them the attention those luscious beauties deserved. When he bent his head and licked one nipple, suckling it, she grasped his head, cupping the back of it and arching her back into his mouth. The nipple puckered, all wet and rosy, and he moved his mouth to the other nipple. She writhed and he pressed the length of his cock hard against her thigh.
One hand trailed down her belly while he continued to suck and lick her nipple. He swirled his fingers over her abdomen and skipped over the spot that she ached for him to touch. She groaned.
But he slid his body down, his hands rubbing over her thighs while he nipped her hips and belly lightly with his teeth. He parted her legs and nuzzled his face in between them, breathing in her enticing scent.
When his tongue laved her clit, her body almost came off the bed. “I know. I know. I’ve got you.” He held her legs apart and kept her still while he licked her thoroughly, and then his tongue entered her. She whimpered, covering her eyes with one arm and clawing at the bedding with her other hand.
“Oh please, please. Yes, like that. God, your tongue is magic. Ahhh.” His palm pressed into her clit at the exact right spot, his tongue thrusting in and out of her, licking and savoring her luscious juices.
From the sounds she was making, Grant could tell Dorrie was coming, pulsing in delirious ecstasy. She called out his name over and over. He loved it that she didn’t hold anything back and was not embarrassed to show her pleasure. When she was finished, she sagged into the mattress.
Grant held her, soothing her, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead and cheeks. He spoke softly, praising her loveliness, her exquisite, responsive body, and whispering compliments between soft kisses.
When she finally reached up to pull him to her, he reached for his trousers to find a condom, rolled it on, and then pressed his hot erection against her belly.
Her voice was hoarse when she pleaded, “I want you inside me, Grant. Hard. Fast.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, spread her legs with his knee, and rubbed his length up and down her sex, causing her to gasp. In one swift thrust, he was inside her, groaning in the sheer pleasure of her hot, wet, tightness. “Ah, Christ!”
When her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him farther into her, he picked up his pace, thrusting faster and harder. “Is this okay for you, Dorrie?”
“Oh, God, yes. It feels too, too good. You’re so big that you’re stretching me and it feels wonderful. Faster! Harder!”
He drove into her, and his dick felt hotter, thicker, and longer. She found his rhythm and matched it, arching her pelvis into him. Then he leaned up and asked, his voice raspy, “Are you close?”
Dorrie rotated her hips so her clit made contact with the base of his cock. “Oh, yes, yes . . . yes!” She wrapped her arms around his back, her legs still clasped at his hips, and she held him as close to her heaving body as possible when he gave a final thrust and collapsed on top of her.
Neither of them could move, nor talk, for that matter. Something had passed between them, something far more intimate than their passionate lovemaking.
After a while, Dorrie shifted her body, and Grant lifted his head to ask softly, “Am I too heavy for you?”
“No, I love the feel of your body stretched out on mine. But I need the bathroom. And I’d like to take a quick shower.”
Grant climbed out of bed, bent over her, and placed a soft kiss on her lips, saying, “I’ll be right back.” He returned, holding a royal blue silk robe, and helped her out of bed. When she stood next to him, he draped the robe around her shoulders so she could slip in on. Dorrie heard water running as they neared the spacious luxury bathroom, and she gathered her long hair, winding it into a loose knot on top of her head.
Dim light from two wall sconces provided light as soft as flickering candles. The deep tub was almost half full, the water scented with jasmine. After Dorrie had used the separate room that housed the toilet, Grant held her hand as she stepped into the warm bubbles, having dropped the robe on a bench, and followed her in. As they slid beneath the water, their eyes closed and their lips parted slightly, the warm scented water covering their bodies like a heated blanket in winter, causing all their senses to overload.
They rested their heads on rolled up Egyptian cotton towels on opposite ends of the tub, their legs intertwined. When Dorrie opened her eyes, Grant was gazing at her. “Would you like a glass of Asti Spumante?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.” He reached for the bottle chilling in an ice bucket with two flutes beside it.
With little fanfare, Grant popped the cork, expertly turning the bottle instead of the cork, and poured them each a glass. Passing one to her, he clinked his flute with hers and said, “To our second night together, and one of the best in my life.” He smiled at her and took a sip.
“I’ll drink to that.” Dorrie tipped the flute, taking a sip. He hoped she loved the way the cold bubbles felt sliding down her throat and the crisp, fizzy taste as much as he did.
They sipped their champagne and gazed at each other until Dorrie asked, “May I wash you?” Grant’s eyes widened and his grin stretched.
“By all means.”
After she set their flutes on the wide rim of the tub and collected a thick washcloth and fancy bar of soap, she knelt and lathered up the washcloth. “Would you sit up, please?”
Shaking his head and still grinning, he sat up and watched the water flow around those spectacular breasts, the nipples enticingly peaked. When she started to first wash his neck and then his shoulders and chest, he was mesmerized both by the feel of her tender touch and also how she furrowed that pretty brow, concentrating on
her task. After she moved the cloth over his abdomen, she indicated with a graceful motion of her fingers that she wanted him to kneel up so she could wash him lower down. With a sloshing of water, he did as she asked.
Grant was already semi-hard, but when she lathered the cloth and caressed his balls, blood surged to his cock. And did she ever take her sweet time washing it. All around the tip, along the shaft, at the base, she spread the cloth and wrapped it around his dick, rubbing rhythmically up and down, up and down.
“You’re making me want to suck you off again,” she panted, her voice husky.
“I have a better idea.” He’d struggled to get the words out in between heavy pants and then reached for the condom he’d set on the edge of the tub.
In a few efficient movements, he lifted Dorrie by her waist and had her straddled over his lap, his erection reaching nearly to his navel. Golden strands of her hair had come loose and curled on the wet skin of her neck like silky ribbons. Grant stared in wonder at his Dorrie, now hovering above him and about to ride him senseless.
Chapter 6
A brilliant morning had dawned over the Gulf of Salerno hours before Dorrie awoke, squinting. Grant had lost count of how many times they’d made love last night. Was the bathtub number three? And then, sometime before dawn, he’d reached for her and hungrily taken her again, his whole body rigid with a need he couldn’t quite understand.
He padded around the suite, as he got ready to leave for the eight o’clock shoot, making every effort not to disturb her. He knew she had to be exhausted after last night’s marathon, and he felt bad that he’d awakened her again, but something about her warm, soft body molded to his drove him wild for her, an almost primal yearning he’d never known before.
His experience with women was limited: a fact unheard of by those who’d declared he had a killer face and body, not to mention his enormous bank account. But he’d always been shy and something of a loner. Until now, he’d felt awkward in the company of women.
