by J. P. Hansen
Brooke struggled to fit the key in the slot. She slid it in slowly and held it still, causing a red light to illuminate. “Dammit.” She tried again—red light. One more time in slow motion—red.
“Here, lemme try.” Chase’s hand slid across Brooke’s as she handed him the key. He drove it in and out like a punch card—red. One more try—still red. “Are you sure this is your room?”
“I dunno. I was hardly in here—I got dressed with Melissa.”
“I bet the front desk—”
“No way I’m walking anywhere now—my feet are killing me. Plus, this place is a freakin’ Labyrinth.” Chase glanced at Brooke’s open toe heels and smiled, thinking, she even has cute toes.
“We should call someone.”
Brooke opened her purse again, then remembered. “My cell’s dead.”
Chase said, “My cell’s broken too—someone spilled on it.”
So much for smart phones. Both thought alcohol decreases your I.Q., alcohol decreases your I.Q., alcohol decreases your I.Q. Chase broke the silence, and said, “Here, follow me. We can call from my room.”
Before the phrase registered, Brooke was being transported by Chase, slightly trailing him, savoring his intoxicating aroma like Dom Perignon. Even tipsy, Chase still looked machismo—like a matador and she was his flag. Chase stopped in front of room 1950, the “Hawthorne Suite.” Brooke raised her right eyebrow and grinned.
Opening the door on the first try, he shot Brooke a playful smile. She shuddered, enjoying the way his lips glistened. And, though he meant to tease Brooke about the key, he felt her gaze—that unmistakable look. He loved the sparkle in her blue eyes against the pink dress. He thought, I’ve never seen her in pink—she should wear it more often.
The door swung open and Chase whisked Brooke inside. He paused and twisted to find the light switch as Brooke bumped into him. Their eyes locked. As both hearts pounded, Brooke gripped Chase’s neck and pulled, until her lips met his—and time stood still. Brooke’s legs trembled.
He pulled back. And, his eyes flashed as if entering hers. Chase returned the kiss with a softness in his lips that surprised her. With mouths joined, their tongues danced. The fresh sensations felt exhilarating. They embraced; neither one wanting to leave the dream—or risk returning to earth.
Finally, Brooke broke and gasped. She softened her gaze as if searching for answers; Chase’s eyes revealed a wanton desire. He slid his hands across her back, the silk providing a titillating shield against her tingling skin. She ran her hands under his tuxedo, across his chest. Brooke said, “We shouldn’t be—”
Chase’s lips smothered hers. Brooke released and allowed the fire to explode. Their kiss propelled a deeper desire. His hands probed up and down her back, and slid across her curves. He smelled so good. She ran her fingers up his abdomen to his chest as he found her zipper.
He shifted, gently nibbling on her moist lips, while carefully sliding her zipper down her side. Tension released, her pulse quickened. She opened an eye and caught his gaze, a flicker piercing the darkness. He slid his hand inside her half-opened dress, across her matching slip and brushed his lips against her ear. The warmth of his breath tickled her neck. As if reading her mind, he sprinkled kisses in just the right spots. He cupped her breast through the slip, and nibbled on the moist skin. Brooke shuddered, releasing a dormant primal moan.
Brooke slid her hands under Chase’s tuxedo with familiarity, only this time, sent the coat to the floor. Her fingers uncoiled his silk bow tie, as Chase’s eyes widened. She then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He loved watching her concentrate on each button as if it contained some top secret. Brooke’s delicate fingers gradually descended, heightening his arousal.
Brooke’s fingers teased the last button open, then she opened his shirt. She bit on her lower lip, contemplating the best way to approach his well-toned front. Brooke slid her finger across his beltline, then ran her hands to his backside. Cupping his firm derriere, she purred, then slid her hands around his bare front, ending with circles on his chest. His skin felt warm and smooth, his chest muscles like their own island hidden by dark curly thick hair. She could spend hours on his island. He undid his cuffs and swung the shirt to the floor.
Chase reached out and glided Brooke’s straps off, exposing her upper torso and her silk lace slip. He slid the slip off her shoulders, then worked his way down. As his fingers danced across her silky skin, Brooke’s entire body warmed. She marveled at his touch—strong yet gentle. Each time he explored a different spot triggering a greater level of arousal.
Chase wrapped his arms behind Brooke and kissed her. His hands wandered, warming her hot zones. He broke the embrace, then kissed her chin, then the front of her neck, until lowering his lips to her aroused breasts. The gentle flicking of his tongue made Brooke’s knees weaken. His fingers edged the dress off, revealing the thin silk slip. Brooke wiggled the dress down and tossed it aside, leaving her in the lingerie. Chase gently caressed her skin through the slip, then lowered it to the ground, tangling it in Brooke’s heels. She kicked it away and stood still. Her naked body shimmered in the darkened room, clad only in pink thong and high heels. Chase’s eyes bulged, revealing hunger.
Chase moved closer and engulfed Brooke’s ravenous lips. His fingers wandered, then tweaked her thong. Brooke moaned, then gripped the front of Chase’s slacks. Slowly, she slid up and down, cupping the bulge—with widened eyes. Chase groaned as his knees buckled. She picked up her pace slightly, causing him to groan louder each time. She varied her tempo and his moans followed along. Brooke’s excitement intensified with each moan.
Chase wrestled with his belt while Brooke continued to torment him. As his buckle opened, Brooke dropped to her knees and unzipped him. Chase’s slacks hit the floor; Brooke placed her thumbs on both sides of his boxer briefs, then carefully lowered them. Gripping him, her lips engulfed him—he groaned an octave lower, begging her to continue.
Chase’s heart raced with squinted eyes, close to the point of no return. He wanted to prolong the euphoria, to reward Brooke in his own way. He gripped Brooke’s shoulders and guided her up. Brooke gasped for air as their eyes locked, revealing a new longing—a belonging. Chase wrapped his arms around her, then whispered, “You’re amazing, Brooke.” Enraptured by the sound of her name murmured from his lips, Brooke said, “You drive me wild.”
Chase murmured, “No, you drive me wild,” with warm breath sizzling Brooke’s hot zones. Chase descended, whisking the flimsy thong down. The tingling chill from his whispers titillated Brooke’s skin. She reached to remove her high heels, but Chase gripped her backside—then overwhelmed her. She gasped as his moist motions warmed her. Her foot pain faded, and she let go, taking pleasure in his magic touch. With muscles convulsing throughout her body, she forgot about her nakedness.
Brooke’s moaning followed Chase’s rhythm: she shuddered, then released, delighting in each ecstatic spasm. Chase groaned, then shifted, and fresh sensations burst inside Brooke. Her bliss resembled an out of control carnival ride—the ride of her life. She never wanted it to end. She dug her fingers into Chase’s head—and pulled. Clutching his thick wavy hair, she pulsed and threw her head back, exploding into orgasm.
Chase gasped for air as Brooke’s internal frenzy settled into numbing pleasure. She pulled him up, then stared deeply into his eyes. Gripping his arms, she gasped, “Oh God!”
Chase’s lips curled, eyes wanton. He said, “I have to have you.” Brooke’s eyes widened as she said, “I want you.”
Brooke felt a whoosh. Her heels flew off. Feeling weightless like a hot air balloon, Chase’s firm hands suspended her in the air. Feeling frenzied, she searched his eyes. Then, his groan blended with her moan as he entered her. She shuddered and time stood still—fullness, a belonging. Chase slowly began thrusting; Brooke moaned with each plunge, a combination of pleasure and pain. Soon, the sensation became pure pleasure, an erotic ride. She marveled at Chase’s sheer strength and delighted in his deliberate
motions.
Then, Chase clenched and gazed into her eyes. They kissed with abandon. Brooke’s numbness dissipated, replaced by a fresh pleasure, reaching depths beyond her wildest fantasy. Brooke marveled at this man’s mastery. His thrusting deepened, breaking the kiss—each lover gasped for air.
Brooke groaned as Chase moaned, and each sound elevated their desire. Brooke purred, “You drive me wild.” The combination of her sexy voice and breath titillated Chase’s ear. He said, “You feel sooooo good.” Moans became screams—they exploded at the same time, releasing a bursting sensation that connected the couple as one. After the tremors turned to quivering, Chase carried Brooke over to the bed and lovingly lowered her. With eyes locked, he said, “Wow.” After a prolonged gaze, he asked, “You thirsty? Can I get you something?”
“No, only you.” Chase smiled, and ran his fingers through Brooke’s hair, then on her cheek. His affection warmed her. He said, “You are amazing,” then crawled in beside her. They snuggled in silence, soaking in their oneness, enjoying the serenity.
After a lover’s doze, Chase began tracing his finger along Brooke’s outline. She still marveled at his strong, yet tender touch. She smiled lazily at him, and said, “Mmmmm, that feels good.”
“You’re gorgeous.” The way he said those words could melt a girl’s heart, but Chase’s tone contained a new tenderness—which re-kindled Brooke’s warmth.
“You’re so sweet.” Brooke kissed Chase’s cheek, then said, “I’ll be right back, loverboy.” Brooke sprung up and headed to the bathroom. Chase squinted, but missed viewing her naked body from the back—his vantage point from across the king-sized bed. He propped himself up on his elbows and prepared for her return.
Brooke arrived carrying a large bottled water. Her walk commanded attention, head high with self-assured eye contact, shoulders upright, fluid pace. She ambled around the bed, noticing him watching her. Chase found confident walks sexy, and Brooke sauntered as if she owned the room. Stopping beside Chase, posture up, she stopped beside the bed and turned the cap, then drew a big sip. Chase perched upright, mouth wide open. The dappled moonlight illuminated Brooke’s alluring body.
Chase was instantly attracted to Brooke; first, the boardroom, but now, every time he saw her, he melted. But now, naked, posing for him, she enflamed his animal desire.
Brooke’s lips slid off the bottle with a popping sound, then she faced him, and said, “You want some?”
Chase said, “Yeah—but, leave the water on the table.”
“Sassy boy.” Brooke liked the way he gazed at her, causing a tingle inside. Brooke sipped again, then said, “Here, you earned this earlier. Have some. It tastes good.”
“You taste good.” Chase grinned, then reached for the bottle. His arm motion flung the sheet open, exposing him. Now, it was Brooke’s turn to stare.
As Chase finished a long sip, Brooke crawled in, and straddled him. Now lying on his back, Chase tossed the bottle on the table, knocking the phone to the floor with a loud clank—a clank that both barely heard.
Brooke slid on top of Chase as if he was a hammock. Their naked bodies melded, warming, contrasting with the air conditioned chill. Chase wrapped his arms around Brooke’s back, then gently massaged her neck, then explored further. Brooke purred, then began moving her hips up and down. He hardened, causing her eyes to widen.
Brooke shifted and reversed direction, sliding her hand down. Chase groaned, igniting a spark deep inside Brooke. She slid down while gazing into his wanting eyes. Chase throbbed in anticipation. She slowly slid her tongue along her lower lip, and said, “I think I know why they call you ‘Boa’.”
Chase prided himself on a quick wit—but he had no comeback. He could only groan his approval for her handiwork. Brooke’s passion surged—she enjoyed teasing him. Slowly and deeply, she straddled him. They both groaned. The different position allowed Brooke to control the pace and maintain a slower, teasing rhythm. Chase’s eyes were full moons, mesmerized by Brooke’s every move. Earlier, there was a sense of urgency, but now, both wanted it to last forever.
Several strands of her wavy long hair slipped in front of her face. The moon’s light framed her creamy skin, revealing exquisite lips and wanting eyes.
“You’re so beautiful.” Chase’s eyes sparkled.
“I bet you say that to all your vice pres…” Brooke cut herself off, then said, “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with—”
Chase pressed his finger to her lips, saying, “Shhhhhhhh.” Their eyes met, and Brooke regretted her snafu, fearing she spoiled the mood. Her eyes fluttered, trying desperately to find the right thing to say—to no avail.
Chase broke the awkward pause, saying, “Tonight, we’re just two people sharing each other, both wanting the same thing—and having the best night of their lives.”
Well put, thank you, Brooke thought, deciding to hush herself, and enjoy this incredible man. Her guilt-ridden vocals fell silent to the passion. Brooke captivated Chase with her sensual rocking. When Brooke broke her gaze, she shuddered with delight, heightening Chase’s arousal. He loved watching her take pleasure in him. Her varied rhythms unleashed new sensations, leading to continuous euphoric trembles and releases.
Chase’s passion reached a boiling point; he gripped Brooke’s sides with eyes revealing untamed hunger. He thrust with animal intensity, causing a flood of heat inside Brooke. Chase groaned, Brooke’s head bounced back, then rocked back and forth as her screams joined him in ecstatic harmony. After their sonic explosion, Brooke collapsed in Chase’s arms. She inhaled his scent, now mixed with passion’s sweat, and savored it like fine wine. Smiling, she fell asleep in his arms.
***
The sun’s first ray replaced the full moon’s glow piercing Brooke’s eye through the blinds. She gasped and froze. It wasn’t a dream after all. Glancing at Chase, she delighted in his half-covered naked body. Chase lay on his side facing Brooke with those famous lashes protecting his sleepy shut eyes. She watched his bare chest rise and fall. With tousled hair and lips closed, his nose fluttered with each breath. He looked like a teddy bear: part of her wanted to squeeze him; the other part wanted to pinch herself to make sure he was real. He had ignited a dormant passion inside her. Missing for so long, she recognized it, and cherished it once again.
Brooke hated to leave the image, but she knew she must. She slowly withdrew while gazing at her mate, a warm kindling inside. Brooke maintained her stare until she entered the dark bathroom, then inched the door until it latched shut. She clicked on the light and placed her hand over her mouth as if strangling a scream. Brooke desperately wanted her make-up bag. She tousled her hair, hoping to revive some form of human shape, but frowned.
Thoughts swirled in her head. The dreamy night crash landed into a sobering realization—passion replaced by guilt. She needed an out, but couldn’t think beyond her pounding head. The question hushed by Chase earlier returned like a recurring nightmare—I can’t believe I slept with the freaking CEO. She stared at herself in the mirror, winced, and decided to quietly leave before he awakened. After one last look.
Brooke tip-toed over to the bed and tilted her head—he hadn’t moved. His lips parted slightly and his breathing had picked up. She noticed his eyes were fluttering beneath the closed lids—I wonder what he’s dreaming? Brooke felt a warming inside, that magnetic pull back to his arms. Weighing one more session with the lights off, her mind played tug of war. What time is it? What time’s breakfast? God, he looks so handsome. She sauntered toward him…then jumped. A loud noise startled her. Standing still, she heard clanking coming from the hallway—maid service—her out. Chase swallowed a few times as if his lips were reaching for air, then settled back to his slumber.
Brooke wanted to kiss his forehead, caress his hair, peer under the covers…Instead, she turned and darted away. There was just enough light under the door, and Brooke slipped her dress back on and bounced up and down while she tugged on her zipper. She reached down for her purse, then gra
bbed each high heel. She inhaled, wishing for a hat and sunglasses and quietly eased out the door.
Brooke squinted into the unflattering brightness illuminating her in the hall. With eyes adjusting, she spotted a man in a hotel uniform walking toward her. Clutching her heels and purse like batons, she sprinted to him, and gasping for breath, said, “Excuse me, do you work here?”
The man stopped and turned around. “Excusa me, senorita?”
“My key doesn’t work. Can you let me in?”
He raised his eyebrow while scrutinizing her, “I’m room service, senorita. I don’t have keys to the rooms...”
“Can you do me a big favor?”
“Sure, anything, senorita…you want me to call someone for you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Right away,” he pressed on his walkie-talkie and spoke in Spanish. He inspected Brooke again, and asked, “Which room are you in, senorita?”
“I, uh, I’m not sure…nineteen something…near 1950.”
“Ah.” He flipped his hand-held radio again, and rambled in Spanish. Brooke glared, wondering what he was really saying. She wanted to crawl in a hole, anywhere but this bright display in the hall of shame—clad in yesterday’s garb. She hoped he wouldn’t paint an “A” across her forehead. She feared the noise roused Chase—he’s the last one I want to see me now.
The man said, “Sit tight,” then left. Brooke hovered near 1930, then remembered her room number—1944. She tip-toed over and plunked down with her back against the door. The more she tried to will the maid, the longer it seemed to take. A door swung open down the hall and she turned her head the opposite direction. Brooke froze, hoping the guests would stop soon. They paused. Brooke glimpsed, then her eyes bulged as the pink intruders giggled—oh shit.
“Brooke?” Louder giggles.
