“Jesus, that’s hot,” Emma groaned, desire moistening her panties. “You could seriously write a book!”
“Yeah, I probably could,” he chuckled, looking at her hungrily. He seemed a little worked up himself, Emma thought.
“Sorry, go on...” she urged, totally engrossed by his tale. Luke gave her a look that told her he knew exactly the effect it was having on her. She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and giggled sheepishly.
“You can imagine just how close I was, watching two hot people fucking while I’m being sucked off. I didn’t have an ounce of fortitude left in me to restrain my orgasm, and Jane sure as hell wasn’t letting up. I warned her I was coming...”
“Like the true gentleman you are,” Emma teased.
“Right?” he crowed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “But she just looked up at me with her big blue eyes, batting those long lashes at me, and took my cock all the way into the back of her throat. What’s a man to do?”
Emma shrugged playfully, “You had no choice.”
“That’s what I thought. So I grabbed her long blond hair in my hands and exploded down her throat. She didn’t spill a drop. I got to say, it was pretty fucking impressive. Paul was probably teetering on the edge too because while I was cumming into his wife’s throat, he filled her other hole.”
“Fucking hell,” Emma blurted, not even trying to hide her desire.
“Yup, needless to say they made a good first impression,” he quipped, grinning proudly at her. “So that’s the story of how I met Janie and Paul. The end.”
“What? That’s it then? What about the rest of the trip?” Emma cried, wanting to hear more.
“The rest of the trip was equally erotic, but I’m afraid if I told you more your head might explode. That’s enough for tonight,” he scolded gently, squirming in his seat. Emma wondered if it was his head that might explode if he continued.
“Ok,” she said, reluctantly letting him off the hook, “just tell me about Sara, what happened with her?”
“I didn’t see much of her that week. She was a pretty hot commodity down in old Cabo, as you can imagine, being a pretty little bi-sexual with a taste for adventure. We crossed paths briefly in our hotel room but for the most part, we did our own thing. I spent most of my time with Paul and Jane. We did some touristy things, shopped, snorkeled, ate most of our meals together and of course, fucked like horn-dogs. I actually had an awesome time with them. We became good friends that week.”
“That’s very cool. I liked them a lot.”
“I knew you would. I think you and Jane would get on quite well, actually,” Luke offered sincerely.
Emma grinned at him, her eyes twinkling curiously. “Oh really?” she purred, baiting him playfully.
He groaned at her, as though his mind followed her straight into the gutter, “Oh, yeah. Now that would be hot...you and Jane...”
“Hmmm...” Emma replied, imagining what it would be like to be with a woman, recalling the curious kiss Jane planted on her. “God, you’re dirty!”
“That’s why you love me,” he teased, playfully shoving her. They looked at one another quietly for a moment, as though considering his words.
“Well, on that note,” Luke finally blurted, “I think it’s time for bed.”
“Really? It’s not that late,” Emma pouted, not ready for their conversation to end. There was so much more she wanted to talk about.
“It’s four in the morning!” Luke chirped, checking the time on his phone. “I need my beauty sleep.”
“Fine, you big baby. I’ll give you a blankie and pillow.”
“Good, and I like my eggs over easy...”
“I bet you do!” Emma giggled, tossing her blanket at him.
Chapter 22
“He texted me,” Mimi whispered, waving her cell phone in front of his half-opened eyes.
“What time is it?” Luke yawned, easing his way out of his slumber.
“It’s ten. What should I say? He wants to take me out tonight?” she said, crouching down beside him. Luke rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust his focus. Mimi was looking at him apprehensively, her pretty mouth drawn in a tight frown. She was wearing a silky purple robe tied loosely around her waist, her nipples pressing provocatively against the flimsy material. He quickly averted his eyes before his mind could wander inappropriately. He was only moderately successful.
“Who texted you?” he asked, holding his hand out for her phone.
“Arran! Read it.”
Luke sat up and scrolled to the message.
Good Morning beautiful. I enjoyed spending time with you last night. I feel like we really connected and I’d like to explore that further. Come out tonight. Do you like French food?
He shrugged his shoulders and handed the phone back to her, his feelings mixed. He hadn’t anticipated that the man would reach out so quickly. In his experience, men did that for one of two reasons, either they were looking for a quick fling–– get on, get in, get off, get out. Or they were head over heels. For some reason, neither of those options thrilled him.
“So?” Emma pressed, “what do you think?”
“Well, you wanted a date with him. This is a good thing, right?” he asked, unwilling to sway her either way.
Emma looked at him passively, her mouth softly agape. He had a momentary urge to kiss her, but shook it off as fast as it came. He dreamt about her the night before, a hot little fantasy that obviously rattled him. He blamed it on that.
“Yes, I guess it is. So you think I should go?” she hedged, obviously needing his approval.
He really didn’t want to give it to her, not because he didn’t want her to have some fun, but because it was Arran. The man seemed like a catch, rich, generous, and adventurous. On top of that, he was an intelligent, well-rounded guy. Sex was one thing, but how could any woman resist wanting something more with a guy like Arran? Emma wasn’t ready to jump into another relationship. She needed to find herself first, get grounded in the truth of who she really was instead of who she thought people wanted her to be. If she didn’t take the time to do that, she could easily wilt in the shadows again. It was one of her weaknesses, dimming her sparkle so others could shine.
“Mimi, think about what you want for yourself, what’s important to you right now.
Does Arran fit into that scenario?” Luke guided, trying to stay as neutral as possible.
“Right, well that’s not helpful at all,” she teased, rolling her eyes at him.
“How’s that not helpful?” Luke asked, wishing she would just come to the right fucking conclusion.
“Well, if he’s looking for a serious relationship, that doesn’t really fit into what I want right now, does it?” she admitted, not yet looking convinced, “but at the same time, I do really like him.”
“What are you worried about, Mimi?” Luke asked, as patiently as he could. She inhaled deeply, dropping her eyes to the floor and considered his question.
Finally, she spoke, “I’m worried that I might really like him. I’m worried I’ll jump in too quickly, get swept away, but most of all, I’m fucking terrified I’ll get it all wrong again.”
“Maybe you need time to figure that out. There’s no rush.” Luke assured, hoping they were on the same page.
“But at the same time, I really want to fuck him,” she growled, looking at him mischievously, “the man just oozes sex appeal.”
“I suppose he does,” Luke admitted, his hope fading. She wasn’t wrong. Arran was a dashing guy. They had been traveling in the same circles for a few years and while Luke had never actually known him to be in a relationship, the guy certainly had no issues attracting the ladies. What bothered him was not knowing what his motives were.
“I think I should go,” she concluded, suddenly self-assured. “I mean, at some point I have to test my instincts, right? How else will I build my confidence back up?”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Luke offered reluctantly, forcing himself to s
mile.
“And I’m a grown-assed woman. If the date goes well, then maybe we’ll have sex and if it doesn’t, then I have nothing to lose, right?” she pressed, looking for validation. That, he could give her, Luke thought, frustrated by his own hedging. What was his problem? Did he want her to get laid or didn’t he?
“Right,” he answered, stifling his uneasiness.
“Okay then! I’ll tell him yes!” she chirped, releasing the crushing burden of indecision.
She held out her hand to him so he could help her up. He tried to pretend he didn’t see the creamy curve of her thighs or the tantalizing flash of her white panties as she righted herself. Fuck, he needed to get laid. It had been at least a month and could easily explain all of his inappropriate thoughts, he thought, his eyes discreetly following her into the kitchen.
It wasn’t unusual for him to have erotic dreams, it was a frequent and welcome occurrence in his life. He even had the occasional dream about Mimi once or twice. But last night’s dream was different.
He had dreamt that they were on a yacht somewhere exotic, like Fiji or something. She was sunbathing on the deck, wearing only a small bikini bottom, yellow if he recalled correctly, her wet, auburn hair clinging to her shoulders. She waved him over, taking his hand as soon as he was within reach, and pulled him down onto the deck to lay beside her. He just remembered thinking how beautiful she looked, happy, completely at peace. He pulled her into a kiss, without any reservation. His dream had been so vivid he could taste the cherry flavor of her lip balm and smell the coconut scent of her sunscreen. Her mouth was soft and inviting, and when she opened her lips, he gently explored her with his tongue, taking his sweet time. That kiss had been more than just physically arousing, it stirred something up inside, like feelings a child might have on Christmas Eve, excited, curious, and filled with magical anticipation. They made love right there on the deck, the sun warming their naked bodies, cooled occasionally by the scented ocean breeze. It was a hot dream, evocative and sexy, and he could still recall his excitement as she rocked herself on his cock, but that’s not what stood out for him the most, what shook him to the core. It was the way he felt as he held her after. In the dream, he had intimate feelings for her, and they weren’t the friendship kind.
“Do you want me?” Emma called from the kitchen, stirring him out of his thoughts. “What?” he asked, swallowing hard. Certainly he heard her wrong.
“Tea?” she repeated, looking around the corner. She raised her brows, as though curious about his confused expression. “Orange Pekoe? Earl Grey? Oolong?”
“Um, sure. Whatever you’re having,” he mumbled, picking his pants up off the floor. He pulled on his jeans, roughly tugging them over his muscular ass, fastening the zipper hastily. He walked into the kitchen, following the smell of frying bacon, his empty stomach growling its approval.
“Oh hey,” she said, looking up from the frying pan, “will you make some toast?”
“Sure,” he mumbled uncomfortably, pulling a hand through his tousled hair. “I think I’m going to bounce right after breakfast, though. I have some errands to run.”
“Oh,” she answered, half disappointed, half curious. He smiled at her weakly but offered no further explanation. The truth was, he just wanted to put some distance between them. He was of no use to her if he didn’t get his head on straight.
“Ok,” she acknowledged, tossing him the loaf of bread. “I just texted Arran back. He’s sending a car for me at 5:30. Can you believe that?” She offered him a broad smile, shaking her head at the extravagance of it all.
“Wow, fancy,” Luke agreed lightly, controlling his tone.
“Yeah, apparently he is working downtown until about 6:00 and thought it would be easiest this way,” she continued, her hands busy with the task of flipping bacon. “I’ll call you later and let you know how it went.”
“Sure,” he answered quietly, “well, actually don’t call until tomorrow afternoon. I’m probably going to be out tonight....late.”
Emma smiled at him knowingly, chuckling under her breath. He’d let her believe whatever she wanted, returning her grin with a half-hearted smirk.
“Fine, I guess I can wait. Pass me a plate?”
“Mimi?” Luke uttered quietly, waiting for her to look up.
“Yes?”
“I think you should fuck him.”
Chapter 23
Arran’s driver met her in the lobby to escort her to the car. She tried to look casual as she walked past Wayne, the doorman, but couldn’t stifle a giggle when he gave her the universal symbol for ‘rock on’. She rolled her eyes playfully to cover her embarrassment.
“Ma’am, may I?”, the driver asked politely, opening the car door for her. She smiled at him sweetly and shimmied her way into the back seat, minding that her dress didn’t slip up too high. She wished she could have just climbed into the passenger seat beside him instead, forgoing the formalities.
“Where are we going?” Emma asked him as soon as he pulled out.
He looked at her in the rear-view mirror and raised his brows. “Ma’am?”, he asked, as though he didn’t hear her question.
“I’m just wondering where we are going?” Emma clarified, speaking a little louder.
“Boeing Field,” he replied, turning the radio down.
“The airport?” Emma blurted, not even trying to conceal her shock.
“Yes ma’am, Mr. Barlow is meeting you there in 30 minutes. The flight is leaving at 19:00 hours.”
Emma looked at the rear-view mirror, hoping to catch his eye. “Flight?” she asked nervously, wondering what the hell was going on.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where is this flight heading?” she asked impatiently, frustrated by his professional ambiguity.
“I believe Mr. Barlow will fill you in on the details when you arrive, ma’am,” he reassured, his soothing tone mindful of her apprehension.
“Will he now,” she uttered, a little more crossly than she meant to. He wisely didn’t respond.
Emma sat back in her seat, her thoughts scrambling to make sense of the situation.
What was happening? Where on earth was Arran taking her? He hadn’t shared many details with her, other than the fact that he wanted to take her to his friend’s restaurant. Apparently, he was a culinary master in French cuisine. She hoped it wasn’t in France.
“You can control the temperature from the panel in front of you, ma’am, the music too. Are you comfortable?” asked the driver, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
“How high tech,” she quipped a little more graciously, amused by his question. No, she thought, she was decidedly not comfortable but maybe that was ok. If it doesn’t challenge you, it won’t change you, she contemplated, reminding herself how long she’d been complacent in her life and how miserable she had been.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, offering up a weak smile. She turned and stared out the window, watching the city pass by and did her best to settle herself.
“Mimi!” Arran greeted, opening the car door for her as soon as the limo came to a stop. He offered her his hand to help her out of the car, which she cautiously accepted. She still had not decided if she was annoyed by his covertness or excited by the spontaneity. She had flip-flopped between the two all the way to the airport.
“Arran,” she sang, her tone playfully scolding, “what is going on?”
“We’re going to dinner!” he replied ambiguously, closing the car door behind her.
“It looks like we’re getting on a plane.”
“Yes, and we need to hurry, our flight is scheduled to take off very soon. You look stunning, by the way,” he praised, hoping to win her over with flattery. It was working.
Emma smiled sweetly at him, delighted by the compliment. He was looking pretty dapper himself. She couldn’t deny it, he was a striking man. He looked her up and down, grinning his approval, then offered her a tender kiss on the lips. She kissed him back reluctantly, not becau
se she didn’t want it, but because she was still a little apprehensive.
“Don’t be cross, Mimi. You’ll like where we’re going and I promise to have you home before morning.” He held out his hand to her once more, inviting her consent. She exhaled slowly and accepted it.
“Before we go, may I ask you one thing?” she asked, halting him with her free hand.
“Of course, my beauty, what is it?”
“Call me Emma, ok?” she insisted kindly, her eyes searching his. Mimi was Luke’s pet name for her and she just didn’t feel right sharing it with Arran. He smiled at her curiously, as though trying on her new name in his mind.
“Emma. Emma. Yes, much better,” he purred confidently. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Now, let’s get on the plane, Emma, San Francisco awaits!”
Chapter 24
Those few hours with Arran in a private jet gave them the time they needed to get intimately familiar with each other without any distractions. Aside from the pilots and a very discreet flight attendant, they were completely alone. They enjoyed expensive champagne while he fed her chocolate-covered strawberries, listened to classical music, and shared a few passionate kisses, most of which were quite nice. It was the epitome of romance. Arran knew how to make a girl swoon, but Emma couldn’t help but wonder if this was his modus operandi. Although she enjoyed the seduction, everything seemed so well-rehearsed, and she wondered if she wasn’t the first girl he jetted away on an exotic date.
She learned that he was a self-made man, literally pulling himself out of poverty and laboring his way to the top, relying on instinct, diligence, and a ‘ton of grit’. She was surprised when he revealed he was 47. Aside from the salt and pepper hair he certainly didn’t look it. He either had incredible genes or one hell of a plastic surgeon, his toned body put men half his age to shame. He had been married once, divorced after only a few short years. Apparently, his wife got tired of sharing him with his ‘mistress’,
a.k.a. his career. He seemed regretful that he hurt her and admitted that he was solely responsible for the breakdown of the relationship. He assured her that he had learned from his mistakes.
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