by Lace Daltyn
The woman pumped Jenna's hand and Jenna grinned through her confusion. “It's nice to meet you...”
“Oh, my gosh. I can't believe I didn't introduce myself. I'm Sharon. Sharon Newton. And I could just squee that I'm here with you. That I get to escort you to the hotel.”
Jenna had no idea what the woman was bubbling about or what hotel she spoke of. Maybe this was some elaborate Game, like that Michael Douglas movie. Maybe she wouldn't know where she was going or why everything happened until the very end? At the moment, Sharon's sparkling green eyes and bobbing head of black hair lifted Jenna's spirits. Her new friend, however, continued to just stand there and stare at her, grinning from ear to ear.
“So...are we hotel bound or waiting for something or someone?”
“Oh, gosh. Sorry again.” She straightened and tried to adopt a formal pose, but her wide grin belied her composure. “If you'll follow me, Ms. Wilton, we'll collect your luggage. The car will be waiting out front when we're ready.”
Scant minutes later, Jenna and Sharon headed outside with a suitcase identified as hers, but which she'd never seen before her arrival here in Vegas. She briefly wondered if she should report her luggage, which she’d never seen until this moment, to the authorities. After all, she hadn’t packed it and they always ask you about whether or not you accepted a package from a stranger.
Sharon indicated the limousine in front of them, complete with a driver holding open the door, and all thought of luggage fled. This was surreal.
Jenna slipped inside and settled into yet another cushy seat as her mystery luggage was stowed. Moments later, they were out of the airport and on their way to whatever hotel Sharon spoke of.
Jenna tried to glean information about what was going on, but once inside the limo, Sharon pretty much went quiet. So Jenna did the only thing she could. She watched the scenery. Frustration quickly gave way to awe as they headed into the strip. Vegas had always been on her places-to-visit list, but she hadn’t managed the trip to date. She’d only seen the city in movies or on television.
Vegas looked even more awesome in reality. In the dark of night, light flashed everywhere, static and whirling and all around her. It was sensory overload on crack and Jenna’s laughter overflowed, infused with a happiness too long suppressed.
“First time in Vegas?”
“Yes.” Jenna didn’t turn from the view to answer.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
Jenna’s grin widened. “Definitely.” Trying to keep up with all the electronic billboards to see what shows were playing was all but impossible. There were too many of them.
The limo slowed and the marquee in front of her finally answered the question of why Vegas. Apparently, she would be attending a romance conference. She belonged to the national organization because she wrote in this genre. But she’d never really been an active participant. She wrote stories. She didn’t read the reviews or even look at the royalty statements. She didn’t want to know if her stories reached people. She didn’t want other’s opinions changing the words that came from deep inside. Maggie handled all that for her. Jenna only wanted to craft characters, wrap her heart around them until the final pages, and then let them fly.
Which was the reason she’d never gone to a conference or taken a workshop or class. Apparently, that was about to change.
“So this is why I’m here,” Jenna mumbled.
“Oh, yes,” Sharon said. “We’re so excited to have you here. Everyone wants to meet the reclusive Jenna Wilton.
“Reclusive? Me?”
“Well, yeah, no one’s ever met you.”
“I have a website.” At least, Jenna thought she did. Mags had mentioned it once or twice...hadn’t she?
“But you are never anywhere on the web. Ever. Not Facebook, not Twitter, nowhere. Trust me.” Sharon looked embarrassed. “I’ve been kind of stalking you.” She shrugged. “Or, at least, trying to. Your assistant puts out promo about your books.”
God bless you, Mags.
“But you, you don’t show up anywhere. Yet you are hugely successful.”
Hugely? Jenna doubted that. “People can’t be that interested in me.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Sharon stared at Jenna as the limo driver retrieved her suitcase. “Do you seriously not know how popular you are?”
“I’m finding it a little hard to believe.”
Sharon laughed. “Man, would I love to have your attitude. And your talent. They moved mountains to rearrange the workshop schedule when they heard you were coming.”
She took off with Jenna’s suitcase as the words sunk in. “Wait.” Jenna sprinted after her. “What do you mean they changed the workshop sched—”
The rest of the sentence froze on her lips and she came face to face with the larger-than-life sign in the lobby. Did the temperature just plummet in the lobby? The lights dim?
Jenna Wilton, author of The Lovelace series and a multitude of other books, presents her workshop “The Emotions of Erotic Love Stories”.
Tomorrow. At 2:00 p.m., it said. Tomorrow? Who? How? Holy shit.
Jenna didn’t do public speaking. Ever. She turned around just in time to see the limousine pull away. A taxi. Maybe she could grab a taxi back to the airport. She thought about the twenty dollars in her wallet and doubted that would be enough. She’d switched to a small clutch for the shower and didn’t even have her credit cards with her.
“You’re lucky it’s 1:30 a.m. or you’d probably be mobbed. Come on,” Sharon said, apparently ignorant to the panic rising like bile in Jenna’s throat. “Let’s get you checked in. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
Yeah. Jenna needed to find a flight home and get out of this hotel before Sharon could hunt her down.
Twenty minutes later, Jenna nudged a still-chatting Sharon out the door with a promise that she would be ready to go by nine in the morning. Sharon wouldn’t say where, but plans had been made, it seemed.
As she closed the door and leaned against it, Jenna wondered when in this scenario the whole “I want to make my own decisions” thing would happen. Wasn’t that what the missive had promised? To help her find herself? Well, life was pulling her along yet again. Yanking, more like. How had she let herself get into this mess?
She blew out a deep breath. The last few hours had been the craziest of her life. What in God’s name was she doing? She moved to the bed and picked up the hotel phone. She needed an airline and a reservation to return home ASAP. Still clutching her purse, she remembered. No money, no credit cards. Damn. She’d have to call Josh or her mother for the money. Double damn.
She slammed the phone down. This was yet another manipulation. Some unknown person, who appeared to know too much about her, was pushing her to do something she’d never had the nerve to do before, except at her father’s funeral.
Jenna imagined herself in front of a room full of women, talking to them about the intimate details of erotic imagery. She could write it, but could she speak it?
No. It was time to go home. So who should she call? Her mother? No way. Josh? He’d happily bail her out, but...something inside her wanted to solve this problem on her own.
She smiled, then grabbed her cell phone and dialed the only person she could.
“This better be Brad fucking Pitt calling at this time of night,” the sleepy voice said.
“Hey, Mags.”
“Shit. Jenna, where the hell are you?”
“Would you believe Vegas?”
Her friend whistled through the phone. “That’s a town you could get lost in.”
“Yeah. So, how are things back home?”
“It’s been...interesting. Your mother shooed everyone out the door after you left, then grilled me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not. I didn’t break under that evil stare of hers. Kind of enjoyed having the upper hand, honestly. And I’m glad you took off. It’s about time you did something all for you.”
“That’s the
thing, Mags. I don’t think I can. I’m at a romance conference and they want me to give a workshop tomorrow...about erotic writing!”
Maggie’s guffaw was not the reaction Jenna wanted. “You know I don’t do speeches, certainly not about a subject like this. I’m coming home. Now. Tonight. But I need you to book me a flight. I don’t have my credit cards with me.”
“So-o-o-o, you’re stuck in Vegas, where someone—you don’t know who—is elbowing you out of your comfort zone—”
“Way outside.”
“And you want to put your tail between your legs and run home?”
Jenna bristled. “I wouldn’t put it quite so crudely, but yes.”
“To your mother.”
“Damn it, Mags. I don’t have a choice. I can’t do this.”
“You do have a choice. And you can do this.”
Jenna forced her voice back down a couple bars to a more normal range. “Just get me the tickets, Mags. Take it out of my royalties.” Jenna bit her lip. “There’s enough there, right?”
The chuckle on the other end of the phone was full of secret delights Jenna would have to dig out of her friend another time. “Well, is there?”
“Yes, there’s enough money in your account.”
“Great, then make the damn reservation and get me out of here.”
“All right, boss. Whatever you want. But, if you ask me, you’re missing the opportunity you’ve been waiting a long, long, time for. I think you’re crazy not to see it through.”
When Jenna hung up the phone, her friend’s words bounced around her head like a ping-pong ball, giving her a mountain-size headache. She needed aspirin and some sleep.
She unzipped her foreign suitcase and stood staring at it in shock. It was empty. Well, just about empty. She pulled out a nightgown, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and a small box that she almost missed, tucked into the built-in shoe bag.
It was a vibrator. A frigging vibrator. Jenna shook her head as she turned the box over and looked at it. She’d researched one for a story, but never actually tried it, in part because she’d been too embarrassed to order the damn thing. Hell, she hadn’t tried any of the devices or equipment she wrote about, instead relying on reviews and her own imagination to describe the effects.
Who would send her to Vegas with only a nightgown, toothbrush, and vibrator? Whoever masterminded this quest had a sick sense of humor. Jenna tossed the box next to her cell phone. No way she was in the mood to experiment tonight. She needed sleep, then a flight home.
Chapter Nine
An hour later, sleep continued to elude Jenna. She couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow. Technically, it was today. . Every time she closed her eyes, she envisioned herself blushing a fiery shade of red, unable to think much less talk, her brain completely blank, in front of a roomful of women.
About sex.
She missed Josh. He could talk her down off this ledge. And if he couldn’t, he’d make sure she forgot all about speaking, at least for a while.
Crap. She needed some sleep. Maybe room service would have aspirin. She reached for her phone in the dark and her hand closed around the box instead.
Tapping the light switch over her head, she turned the box over and over. Maybe the release would do her some good. Make her able to sleep. With fingers that shook, Jenna pulled out the vibrator. It was tiny and fit on her forefinger. Probably didn’t have any batteries. She flipped the switch and it came to life, startling her.
She watched it vibrate for a few seconds, then touched it to her neck and giggled. It tickled. She brought it down lower, along her clavicle. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant. Not at all. No longer a tickle, it was more of a pulse. A thrumming, one that echoed through her body, making it throb.
Sliding the thin strap of her nightgown off her shoulder, she pulled the lace fabric down until it crested her breast, leaving her nipple bare. Using the vibrator, she worked her hand around her breast, testing the feel. When she touched her nipple, it felt like a small electric shock running through her and she yanked her hand away. When the shock settled with wet need between her legs, she realized everything she’d read about vibrators was true. They really could play substitute. Sort of.
Her cell phone jingled and Jenna yelped, her cheeks instantly flaming with heat. She frantically searched for the vibrator’s off-switch while grabbing her phone. “Hello?”
“Jenna?”
“Josh?”
“Who else do you think it would be at three in the morning?”
“My mother.”
“If it were, you wouldn’t have answered.”
Truth be told, Jenna hadn’t even looked.
“I’m glad you did answer, though. I wasn’t sure you would. Are you...are you all right?”
No. I’m lying in a strange hotel room in a strange city and ... She glanced at the vibrator still on her finger. “I’m okay,” she answered.
“Good. I wanted to make sure.”
“I’m thinking of coming home tomorrow,” Jenna said.
“So you’re done with whatever soul-searching you wanted to do? That was quick.” Jenna heard the sense of relief he couldn’t quite disguise.
“Not exactly. I’m finding it’s...not what I expected.” She tried not to let her voice shake, but it seemed to have a mind of its own.
“Jenna...”
She swore she could hear him raking his hands through his hair and it made her smile. She loved to do that to him. They would watch television with his head in her lap and she would stroke his hair over and over again.
“I wish I were there to run my hands through your hair,” she said.
“I wish you were, too.”
“If I were, I’d run my hands through a lot more than just your hair.” Jenna turned the vibrator back on, wondering if he could hear it through the phone.
He chuckled. “You would, huh?”
Jenna swallowed her lack of guts and lowered her voice. “Oh, yes. I’d be all over that fine body of yours.”
His quick intake of air sent a thrill through her, tightening her nipples. They were on the edge of something they’d never done before. She touched the vibrator to her already aching tip, imagining it was Josh’s lips on her, sucking her in, pebbling her to the point of exquisite pain.
“Where?”
“Hmmm?”
“Where would you touch me?”
She smiled. “Well, I’d start by kissing those talented lips of yours, tasting the coffee on your breath.
“Beer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Beer on my breath. Not coffee. Not tonight.”
“Then I’d make you go brush your teeth.”
Josh chuckled.
“Now don’t interrupt. I’d trail my lips along your neck, while my finger circled those sensitive nipples of yours.”
The vibrator moved to her other breast as Jenna heard what she swore was a zipper on the other end of the line.
“And then?”
“My lips would make sweet love to your chest.”
“Where would your hands be?”
“Wandering some of their favorite territory.” The vibrator trailed along Jenna’s stomach, sending thrill-shocks through her body. She could feel the dampness growing between her legs. And she swore she could smell Josh’s attraction through the phone. She loved the smell of him, the Chanel cologne he wore that mixed with his clean scent.
“I’d work my way lower,” she said. “Follow that trail of hair down.”
Josh grunted.
Jenna grinned and let the vibrator toy with the edge of her pubic hair. “I wouldn’t touch you there. Not yet. I’d make you want me like never before, wander all over and around, down your legs, letting my lips follow along.”
The vibrator hummed against her thigh.
“Then, before you had time to realize what I was doing, I’d swallow you to the base of that impressive cock of yours.”
A crashing noise stopped her. “What was that?”
>
“Just a lamp. No worries. You were saying?”
Laughing, Jenna touched her pussy with the vibrator and gasped.
“What are you doing,” Josh asked, his voice husky.
“Playing with a vibrator.”
Josh was quiet so long Jenna thought she’d lost the moment with her honesty.
“And where are you touching yourself?”
When he spoke, relief flooded her. “Where I want you to touch me. I’m pressing in and out and imagining I’m touching you at the same time, my mouth going up and down on your hard, silky cock. I’m sucking hard, pushing hard.”
“Vibrating hard,” he said.
“And thinking of you,” they said in unison.
“Oh, God,” Jenna said. “It feels so good.”
“I’m licking you,” he said in a rush. “Wherever you touch, it’s my lips, my tongue—”
“Driving me insane. Oh, Josh!” Jenna’s orgasm crashed into her, sending her over the top as the vibrator held on her clit and drove her into an intense climax. The groans on the other end of the phone told her Josh was right there with her.
Several long, panting moments passed before either of them spoke.
“That was...wow,” Josh whispered.
“It was more than wow. It was amazing.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s a first for me, too,” he said. “Hang on a minute. Need to clean up.”
Jenna turned the vibrator off and set it on the nightstand with a grin, then snuggled deeper into the bed.
“I’m back,” Josh said after only a couple minutes.
“And I’m satisfied and sleepy.”
“Good. Get some sleep, my love.”
“I think I can now.”
“Good. And Jenna?”
“Hmmm?” Her eyes were closed and his voice lulled her deeper into sleep.
“Stay and finish whatever it is you went there to do. I think you should do that. For yourself.”
“Um hmmm.” Jenna ended the call and rolled over, ready, finally, to sleep. Until Josh’s words sunk in. Stay? He’d suggested she finish what she started. But that mean...speaking in front of an audience. Hell, Jenna would rather take her mother on than do this workshop.
