But tonight Leonore was on the hunt and, while she had the ability to put sex out of her mind while she was working, now that she had committed to the pursuit, her body thrummed with anticipation. She scanned the crowd, looking for just the right candidate. He didn’t have to be alone, but he couldn’t be part of a tight group, one that would try to prevent him from leaving in a hurry. She spotted an attractive blond man sitting by himself at a booth, watching one of the big TVs, and sidled closer to size him up, taking a sip of the martini she carried mostly as a prop. Too drunk, she decided.
She was moving toward the main bar when her progress was interrupted by a man stepping out of the restroom. Barely avoiding a collision, she looked up and met his eyes, and a strange thrill ran through her, starting somewhere in the region of her stomach and spreading outward.
“Excuse me,” he said, and crinkles appeared at the corner of very blue eyes. “Did I spill your drink?”
“What?” Leonore said stupidly before realizing what he had asked and looking at her martini glass. “No, not really.” Had some spilled? She couldn’t remember how full the glass had been before the near miss.
“Yes I did,” he said, reaching out and touching her hand. “Look it’s dripping all over your fingers. Let me buy you a replacement.” Before Leonore could react, he had her by the elbow and was steering her toward the bar.
“Really, it’s not necessary,” she sputtered, unaccustomed to someone else taking charge.
Ignoring her protests, he reached for a stack of bar napkins. “Let me dry you off.” He removed the half-full glass from her hand and set in on the bar, then started mopping her hand and wrist with the napkins. Again, she felt the current that seemed to flow between them. “I’m not usually so clumsy.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “I was walking one direction and looking another.”
“Apparently, so was I,” he said. “Although if I’d seen you coming you can be sure I wouldn’t have been looking at anything else. You’re by far the most beautiful woman here.” He managed to give the impression of checking her out without actually breaking eye contact and Leonore felt a flush rise to her cheeks.
What the hell was going on here? Leonore had been flirted with by a lot of men—hundreds, certainly. Maybe even thousands. But she did not blush every time someone paid her a compliment. She was supposed to be the alpha-bitch huntress, stalking through the crowd and deciding on her prey. Yet she had the very distinct impression she had just been singled out of the herd.
“Leo, could you get the lady another martini?” The amazing blue eyes swiveled back toward Leonore. “It was a martini, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she managed to say. “Yes, a vodka martini, just a little dirty.”
“Excellent choice. Make it two, Leo, and put in some of those blue-cheese-stuffed olives.”
Leonore was about to protest—she hated it when men ordered for her—but blue-cheese-stuffed olives did sound nice…
“Let’s sit down and drink them together. Unless…” He scanned the room behind her. “There’s someone waiting for you at a table.”
“No,” said Leonore, “No, I’m by myself.” She told herself there was no reason to be reluctant. She had come in here with the express purpose of picking someone up, after all. This man just wasn’t exactly what she expected. She sat down on a barstool and appraised him surreptitiously as he paid the bartender.
Gorgeous, certainly. Tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed and with a body that was no stranger to a weight room. Physically he was perfect for her purposes. It was just that she usually liked someone a tad tipsy and not too bright. Someone easy to manipulate, who could take care of business without a lot of chatter afterward. Intelligence fairly sprang from this one’s eyes, and he didn’t look like he’d even been drinking.
Of course, the bartender had just slid an enormous martini in front of him. Leonore had yet to meet a man she couldn’t drink under the table. What the hell, after he finished that cocktail he might be just about ready.
“So, what brings someone as attractive as you out on a Wednesday night?” he asked, lifting his glass to his lips for a sip.
“I wanted to get laid,” she replied, and was gratified when he actually spit out some of his martini. Not as smooth as you look, are you?
He put the glass down and turned to look at her. “You’re kidding.”
“Not at all.” She put what she hoped was a sardonic expression on her face and sipped her own martini, then fished out one of the blue cheese olives and popped it in her mouth. “Ummm. You’re right, these are good.”
He was still staring at her, if not quite open-mouthed, with an expression of complete astonishment. “You came out to get laid,” he repeated.
“That’s right. Interested?”
To Leonore’s annoyance, he threw back his head and laughed. She felt the flush rising to her cheeks again. This was not the reaction she had been expecting.
“I’m sorry,” he said, still laughing. “You really had me going for a minute there. I guess I deserved it for asking such a clichéd question. You’re out on Wednesday night for the same reason I am. Because you felt like getting out of the house and having a drink.” He raised his glass. “And maybe talking to someone interesting.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Leonore raised her own glass and clinked his. Let him think it’s a joke—for now. She knew from experience that if she stayed too quiet, most men would start asking questions about her—where she lived, where she worked—and she had no intention of giving out a lot of information when her only purpose here was to have sex.
“Why here?” she asked him. “Do you work nearby?” Not that she really cared. Not at all. Really.
“It’s between where I work and where I live. I walk on nice days.”
Or you don’t have a car, thought Leonore, who was accustomed to meeting relative losers in bars. Although this guy didn’t look like any loser she’d ever met. Too well groomed, although she wondered where he worked that he could dress so casually, in jeans and a UCLA sweatshirt.
“Been in the area long?” she asked quickly, to ward off the “what about you?” that was sure to come any minute.
“No, just moved here a couple of months ago. From Southern California. So far, I like Boston a lot, although it’s different from what I’m used to.”
Ah, a safe topic. “Are you from Southern California, then? Ever lived through a real winter?”
“No, just what I’ve seen when I went skiing in the mountains. I loved the snow and cold, clean air there, though.” He took a good-sized sip of his martini and Leonore was pleased to see he was drinking fairly rapidly.
“It’s a lot different when you have to deal with it every day,” she said. “And the late fall and early spring, when it’s slushy during the day and icy at night…”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s a great city. I figure it’ll be worth a little ice.”
“We like to think so.”
“So, you a native?” he asked her, and smiled again. God, he’s hot. Leonore felt a flame of desire lick her all the way to her toes, and decided she didn’t care if he was too smart and too sober. He was a man, after all. And when it came down to it, what man was going to turn down hot sex with an attractive woman?
“Yes,” she said in reply to his question, then drained the last of her martini. “Look, I know you think I was joking earlier, but I wasn’t. I came here to find someone to have sex with. I really did. And you…” She swept her eyes pointedly up and down his body. “You look like you’re up for the job. So what do you say?”
This time he didn’t spit out his drink or laugh, but his eyes narrowed slightly. He finished his own drink, never taking his gaze from hers. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Do you need to?” she asked, not breaking eye contact.
He didn’t hesitate for long. “No,” he said. “No, I guess I don’t.” He put his glass down on the bar with a re
sounding click. Getting to his feet, he asked, “How do we…I mean, where do you want to go?”
“You said you live in walking distance. Any problem with your place? Roommates? A girlfriend?”
“My place is fine,” he said, and gestured toward the door. Leonore slid from her stool and walked past him, not turning to make sure he was following her. She knew he would be.
He caught up with her at the sidewalk. “It’s this way,” he said, and she fell in beside him. They didn’t talk, but she could feel a buzzing in the air around them, as if the full knowledge that they were about to have sex had created a cloud of vibrating pheromones.
Leonore suddenly felt a little panicked at the idea of going into his home. She never brought anyone to her place—she didn’t want them to know where she lived—but she usually didn’t have a problem going to their run-down houses or shabby apartments, which were almost always anonymous, revealing little about their personalities. The types of men she chose didn’t hang pictures or do anything that could be called decorating. But she had a feeling this man was different. He would choose a home that reflected his character, and she didn’t want to know about his character.
She stopped in front of an alley, and he took a few steps before he must have realized she wasn’t moving. He turned and spoke.
“What’s up? Change your mind?”
“Right here.”
He looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t wait any longer.” Leonore gestured toward the alley. “I want it now. Come on.”
“It’s only a couple more blocks,” he protested. She ignored him and stepped into the shadows, hoping he would follow.
He did.
A car was parked next to a windowless brick wall, most of it beyond the wedge of light that spilled in from a streetlight. She put her back against the vehicle, hoping it didn’t have an alarm triggered by a motion sensor. “Come on,” she said, for he had hesitated in the mouth of the alley, causing a long shadow to fall on the pavement before him.
He came to her then, reaching around her with muscled arms and lowering his head to search for her lips.
She turned her head away. “You don’t have to kiss me.”
“Yes, I do,” he said, reaching one hand up to grab the side of her face and turn it back toward him.
“No, you—” Her protest was cut off by his mouth, which came down over hers in a rush of sweet, wet warmth. His tongue slid between her teeth, and all thoughts of resistance were abruptly swept away as he probed and explored. He pulled her against his chest and a prickling heat erupted in her pussy and spread upward and outward.
God, he could kiss. Her arms went around him as the strength left her legs, but she was leaning back against the hood of the car and his arms held her upright. She could feel the hardness of his cock stretching against the front of his jeans and pressing against her belly. She dropped one hand to support her weight in order to push farther back on the car hood, so that she could spread her legs and feel it push against where her clit was already starting to throb.
Yes, the magic deep in her body said, sensing imminent renewal and shaking its head to rise from its dormancy. Yes¸ her own female desire answered. As it had happened before, the two needs would be filled at once. With an effort, she broke away from the kiss.
“I want you in me,” she breathed, and pushed farther back so that she was sitting entirely on the car, freeing her hands to reach for the front of his jeans. Damn button fly.
To her relief, he didn’t protest, but began pulling up the long silky folds of her full skirt. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and in moments he had the skirt up and she felt the rush of cool night air against the soft folds of her cunt, which was starting to gather moisture in anticipation of what was to come.
“God, you really were ready for this,” he said, sliding an index finger into her slick opening as his other hand reached around to grab her ass. Again, his mouth searched for hers and this time she didn’t resist, and instead sucked greedily at his tongue, even as her fingers finally opened the last button and her hands pushed down his underwear and grasped his throbbing cock.
Her eyes, which she hadn’t even realized she had closed when he kissed her, flew open, and again she broke off the kiss. She had to see what she held in her hand.
“You’re big,” she said, and she could hear an unfamiliar purring quality to her voice. While size didn’t matter if her only purpose was to renew her power, she always hoped the men she chose would have big cocks, but was usually disappointed. Not this time.
“I’m glad milady is pleased.” His tone was probably meant to be sardonic, but was ruined by the catching of his breath when she squeezed her prize.
“Put it in me,” she commanded, and pushed herself forward, but was hindered by the hand he still had partially inside her, two fingers inserted now, another rubbing against her clit. How does he do that?
Although they were now completely out of the wedge of light, a flicker at the front of the alley caused her to glance that way and realize a pedestrian had passed by on the sidewalk. Someone could come upon them at any moment—it wasn’t that late and this neighborhood had plenty of residences mixed in with the businesses. Her sense of urgency increased and she pushed forward again, simultaneously pulling his throbbing cock toward her.
“Put it in me,” she repeated.
“Wait, let me get a condom,” he said, withdrawing his hand.
Shit. He’s either worried about getting me pregnant, or me giving him a venereal disease. Neither outcome was possible, but Leonore could hardly explain that right now.
“I’m on birth control,” she said instead. “And I’ve been tested. Recently.”
“But you might—”
“Just do it,” she said, surprised at the pleading tone in her voice. “Now!”
“Whatever you say,” he breathed, and she felt the first delicious moments of pressure as the head of his cock began to push into the tight, wet opening between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around him, using her calves to pull his ass against her as the long shaft of his dick slid farther and farther into her cunt.
“Fuck me,” she said. “Hurry!”
“Jesus,” he said, but he followed directions, and started pumping his enormous cock into her, his hands on her ass, pulling her in to punctuate each thrust.
As her pleasure mounted, Leonore felt the coiling magic in her stir, rise and engulf her. “Ah, yes!” She threw back her head, loving the familiar sensation of her sexual passion and her magic combining and intertwining, each one heightening the enjoyment of the other. She removed her arms from where they had wound around her lover’s back and raised them in the air, and felt them wave and coil in a rhythmic dance. She tilted her head back and watched to see the barely discernable glow as threads of magic began to emanate from her fingertips. “Yes! More! Harder! Faster!”
He groaned as if such efforts were impossible, but his pace quickened and it felt as if his huge member was touching the very back of her core. The beginning of her orgasm started to thrum along her nerves and the magic found it—stroked it—enhanced it—enraged it. She wanted more sensation—more!
“Put…your…fingers…in…my…ass!” she managed to say between gritted teeth, and he complied.
The moment she felt his thick forefinger slide into her anus, coupling with the enormous pressure of his sex and the teasing, pushing sensation of her magic, her orgasm exploded, full force and ragged. She just had time to see the tendrils coming from her fingertips flash into vividly colored rainbows before she squeezed her eyes shut against the intensity of her coming.
“Ay-eeee!” She shrieked before she could catch herself. She had momentarily forgotten where she was and that anyone could come upon them at any moment. She opened her eyes and saw that the light show above her was dimming, which was good. Her body shuddered and bucked, and still her lover had not slowed his tempo.
She squeezed with every interior muscle she c
ould command, her strength boosted by the magic that now thrummed in her as if she was a giant beehive. She knew some of it was leaking over into this man—this incredible male specimen—and she couldn’t stop it, even though she usually had no problem preventing the power from escaping into her lovers. What must he be feeling? Did he even know?
Finally his rhythm stuttered and then stopped, and he gave a great heaving thrust, growling deeply but not crying aloud. The finger was pulled abruptly from her anus as he used both hands to crush her ass against his exploding orgasm. She felt the hot fluid shoot into her—it felt warmer than her already raging body. Every muscle in his back seemed to tense and spasm and then he relaxed against her.
“Jesus,” he said again. “Holy…” He stopped, panting, and looked at her. She could not make out his blue eyes in the darkness but thought she could see a little light reflected against the shine or his corneas and the sweat on his forehead. “That was…I don’t think I ever came that hard before.”
No, you probably didn’t, thought Leonore. She was a little annoyed with herself for having shared her magic during sex. She had never—never—done that before. Some of her Leonorean sisters did so occasionally, and had described the feeling, but she herself didn’t think it was right to waste her magic in this fashion.
But it didn’t feel as if I was wasting it.
Voices at the opening of the alley and the sound of laughter as a group of people walked by reminded Leonore that she was sitting in public with her skirt hiked up to her waist, her naked pussy exposed to the night. She pushed against her lover’s chest. “Come on, we need to get out of here before someone sees us.”
“Now you’re worried about someone seeing us?” To his credit, his voice sounded steady, not out of breath.
“We’ve been lucky so far. Let’s not push it.” As he backed off, she jumped off the car, smoothing the folds of her silk skirt as it fell back around her calves. She reached up to her face, wondering if her makeup was smeared everywhere. Her lips felt swollen.
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