Pleasure

by Adrianna Dane

  Their bodies undulated to the rhythm, and she tapped her toe against the rung of the stool. The cadence stirred the embers inside her as the bass reverberated through her.

  The young, lithe bodies parted on the floor and her gaze widened in surprise as she saw who was the center of attention.

  His body melded with that of the woman he danced with as they dipped and swayed. It almost seemed as though they were one with the music, sensual and smooth, his hand splayed over her naked back at her slender waist.

  It was the man from the restaurant, the one who had her wetting her panties just thinking about him. His full attention was now focused on the woman, stroking her with his eyes, capturing her close to his body, rubbing against her.

  Helen gulped down the remainder of her wine, unable to look away, and she noted a number of people had the same problem as they watched the tableau at the center of the dance floor.

  He turned the woman and pressed her back close to his chest. Even from here, Helen could see the clear outline of the woman’s taut nipples through the thin, sexy dress as she arched back and curled her arms around the neck of her partner.

  The dress clung to her like a second skin. As Helen watched, the man slid his hands down over her slender hips to anchor there, pulling her closer.

  Their bodies circled and rotated on the dance floor like some primitive mating ritual of long ago. The woman’s head was turned to the side, submissive to the man, beckoning him with her seductive body.

  Her knees bent as they lowered toward the floor, her dress dropping between her thighs, completely outlining her shadowed, intimate center.

  Helen waited, breath caught in her chest as the man’s hands inched upward, dragging the dress up along her thighs. Helen’s pussy convulsed at the scene playing out before her, pressing her own thighs together in an attempt to quench the hunger that watching them instilled inside her.

  But it was a tease, only that, as they again lifted upward and the dress dropped back into glimmering silken folds around her body. Again, the woman turned to the man, cupping his face, drawing him down to her, lips touching and teasing, feathering across his firm jaw, down the column of his neck.

  The music ground to a halt and Helen blinked as though waking from a trance. Embarrassed, she turned back to the bar and asked for another glass of wine. Her cheeks felt hot and flushed, her body needy in ways she’d never imagined it could be. It had been a long time since she had felt this horny. A really long time. Maybe never.

  What she wouldn’t give to be a braver, more daring woman. But wasn’t that why she had come here? To break out of her mold? Could she do it?

  Someone approached the bar and stood next to her. Helen was afraid to glance at the person, afraid they’d see what was in her eyes, the need that bore down on her.

  “Jim, can I get a couple of glasses of ice cold water?”

  She slid just a quick glance in the direction of the deep, sexy voice and almost fell off the barstool. It couldn’t be.

  “Sure thing, Fallon. Hot little number you’ve got with you tonight,” the bartender said as he placed a couple of tall glasses on the bar.

  “She likes dancing,” was Fallon’s simple response.

  His dark hand passed along a couple of nice bills to the bartender. Jim palmed it, smiled, and turned away to tend to another customer.

  Fallon pinned his dark gaze on her before picking up the glasses and he paused. His gaze passed over her and she saw appreciation in the look. And maybe recognition.

  “Here on business?” he asked in a deep, smooth voice.

  She sipped at her wine before answering, needing something to wet her dry throat. Her gaze slid back to his.

  “No, not this time.”

  His lips curved upward. “Alone or with someone?”

  “Ummm, I’m here on my own. Needed to get away for a bit.”

  He studied Helen for long moments, then slipped a hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a card.

  His lips formed a sensual smile as his gaze again tangled with hers. “For pleasure, Vegas has a lot to offer.” He nodded as though understanding. “Here. I hate to see a lovely lady all alone in Las Vegas. Maybe you could use an escort while you’re here. I’d love to have a chance to show you around. I’m quite…experienced.”

  He didn’t place the card on the bar, nor in her hand. He had the audacity to slip it into the opening at the front of her dress, until it was tucked neatly into the side of her bra, lying securely against her naked breast. Her nipples tightened in response to the warm, firm touch.

  “Jim,” he said and then pulled his attention from her. He pulled out another bill from his pocket. “Another drink for the lady. On me.” Another smile at Helen and he picked up the two glasses of water and sauntered away.

  Helen shook with reaction. She’d never met anyone as bold as Fallon whatever his name was in her life. She turned to look at the bartender as he placed the drink in front of her.

  “Who is that?”

  Jim grinned. “That’s Fallon. He’s in here a lot. He works the hotel.”

  She was afraid to turn around again, to see him with the young, beautiful woman. “Excuse me?”

  “He’s a paid escort. High priced and in demand, too. A lot of the regular hotel guests use his services. But he’s real particular about what new clients he’ll take on these days. I hear he’s quite the stud, if you know what I mean.” He winked in a knowing way. “Damn good tipper, too.”

  Again, the bartender moved away to head off to the other end of the bar. Helen could feel the edge of the card pressing into her skin like a brand. With a shaking hand, she pulled it out and looked at it.

  Why was she not surprised to find “Fantasy Escorts” emblazoned across one side, with a phone number and a website address? Confidential and Attentive to Your Needs. Call for an Appointment. On the other side was one word: Fallon. Below it was what appeared to be a voicemail number.

  She raised the card and inhaled the faint, expensive scent clinging to it. Helen dropped the card into her purse.

  Fantasy Escorts. There was that name again. She slid from the stool, picked up the glass of wine and left the bar, returning to her room.

  Once inside, she dropped into a chair at the small, nondescript circular table and looked out at the brilliant, glittering lights of Sin City. She pulled the card from her purse and looked down at it. Then she found the ripped-out advertisement from the newspaper. It was the same phone number.

  Something had pulled her here, away from her solid, peaceful life. It was reaffirmed by the seductive presence of the man, first in the restaurant and then in the bar.

  It should matter that he was a paid escort and earned his keep escorting women throughout the city. Among other things. One shouldn’t have to pay for companionship, should they?

  But he was attractive. He was exactly what she’d come here for. He was exactly what she wanted. What could it hurt to pay for a little attentive companionship for an evening? It certainly would help her to break out of her solid, ordinary mold, something she really wanted to do. Her life was so predictable she wanted to scream. She hadn’t realized just how unsatisfied she was until tonight.

  Helen turned the card over in her hand. Fallon. He intrigued her—the man and the name. According to the bartender, Fallon was rather selective in his clients. So why had he approached her if he didn’t normally take on new clients?

  She shouldn’t do it, but she’d been drawn to the ad, the idea of uncomplicated companionship, and that’s what had brought her here. No expectations. A man who wasn’t looking to gain recognition because he was escorting the mayor.

  Yes, a paid companion. Without strings. But it was upfront and about as honest as it was going to get. She paid him, he gave her…whatever she desired, more or less. And then it was over. No commitments. Just a little fun.

  She pulled out her cell phone. It didn’t mean she had to have sex. In fact, it was probably better if she didn’t. It was much
too iffy a proposition these days even with someone you knew really well.

  It excited her at the thought of going out with a handsome stranger. A young, handsome stranger. One who catered to her needs and every whim. From what she’d seen both in the restaurant and in the bar, he was extremely attentive. Could that by any stretch be considered the interview? A sampling so to speak of the merchandise? She couldn’t help it when a giggle erupted at the idea.

  The ad said their employees were skilled in massage as well, and she liked the idea of that. Sensual massage. She wondered what exactly that would entail and was rather excited by the idea of finding out.

  Looking down at the card, she called the number.

  “Fantasy Escorts,” a sexy female voice answered. “How may we help you?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Helen made an appointment for the next afternoon and, with shaking hands, ended the call and set the phone on the table. In the morning she would go shopping for an appropriate dress for her adventurous evening. She’d forgotten about looking for a dress online, because Sarah had called about a problem with her laptop going all crazy. In ordering her a new laptop, Helen had completely forgotten about looking for a dress and didn’t think about it again until she was packing her overnight bag for Vegas.

  Nervous energy kept Helen from sleeping soundly after she’d made the call to the escort service. That, and being in a strange place kept her wide awake. She rose and paced the floor, feeling like she was wound tighter than a watch spring and needed relief.

  She kept seeing him in front of her. His eyes on her naked body, watching her, his hands reaching out to touch her. Her nipples tightened painfully at the thought of those dark hands on her flesh. Touching, caressing, teasing. Helen brushed her hands across her breasts and inhaled sharply at the zip of pleasure-pain that screwed her nipples into tight sensitive buds.

  She was fixated on a man who got paid to please women. She was turned on by watching him with another woman on the dance floor. The powerful feelings he instilled inside her scared her.

  Would she pay to have sex with him? Was she that desperate?

  But somehow desperation didn’t seem to enter into the equation. She wanted him. What type of services did he really provide? Prostitution was illegal in Las Vegas, but what about outside the city limits? Helen knew just a step away she could legally have what she seemed to yearn for—a man’s cock filling her.

  She pressed a hand to her pussy. The need was so intense. Helen had to get some relief or she’d be all over him in a minute, begging for it.

  After slipping off the robe and her nightgown, she climbed onto the bed. Reaching up, she again cupped her full breasts. For an old broad she wasn’t in such bad shape. She’d always exercised, kept herself toned. She participated in the local marathon to raise funds in support of breast cancer every year. Was it so wrong to want a little carnal pleasure for herself?

  She rolled the nipples between her fingertips, causing sharp spasms of painful pleasure to rock through her. For too many years she’d gone without. After being burned by Allen and his infidelities, she’d shied from any kind of intimate commitment with anyone else. Trust didn’t come that easily for her.

  Why now? Why did she need this right this minute? What had changed so drastically in her life to drive her to hire an escort? It felt like emotions were shifting inside her. She had come to a point where she needed to re-evaluate her life.

  She slid her hands down over her ribs to her abdomen. She feathered her fingers along her engorged lips encountering wetness, evidence of her arousal, and she sucked in a breath.

  It didn’t make sense, yet she had felt a wild rebellion building inside her for some time. She fought against acknowledging it—so hard. There were times when she stood in her office ready to scream. I want out of this life. I want more.

  Helen slid two of her fingers inside her vagina, through the liquid heat instilled by passionate fantasy, and she gasped at the keen, almost painful sensation. She circled her thumb over her engorged clitoris.

  If Helen were honest with herself, she had enjoyed the encounter, both in the dining room and in the bar. She’d liked watching him with the woman. She’d fantasized about being that woman, yet some part of her had enjoyed being apart from it, watching their interaction. Even in watching, she had almost felt a part of them. Her body tingled at the memory.

  What was happening to her? Her blood felt like molten lava running through her veins, hot and pulsing. She was ready to explode.

  Her fingers slid slickly in and out of her pussy, her hips arching up from the bed, legs splayed wide. One hand returned to her nipples, tugging and pinching, sending sharp sensations running through her, arrowing downward.

  Oh, God, she needed to come. In honesty, she had never felt this level of passion in her life. She wanted Fallon between her legs. Her fingers drove more forcefully inside her, pressing against her clit, pushing her toward a searing pinnacle.

  What was he doing right now? Was he fucking the beautiful young woman? She could see two bodies lying naked on a bed. She fantasized about what he would be doing to her. Was she a client, as Helen would be?

  She could see his dark head between the woman’s creamy thighs as he sucked at her clit, could feel his mouth on her own body. Oh, yes, it would feel absolutely sensational. She could feel his tongue stabbing deep inside her, lapping at the juices. Her fingers inside her body became more frantic.

  After he brought his partner to climax, he would rise above her. Helen could feel the pressure of his cock at her entrance as she added another finger to her own pleasuring. She arched upward on the bed, searching for release. Breathless moans, gasps of need escaped.

  What a hard, tight body he would have. All that muscle, straining toward her, needing to pleasure her, and she felt her lips part as he entered her. Hot, so very hot, and thick. And long. When he sank inside her, he would fill her in ways no man had before. She drove her fingers deep, arched and hissed as her body convulsed. She dropped her head forward, eyes closed, feeling the orgasm drench her, her body uncoiling, collapsing back, exhausted, yet momentarily satisfied.

  Slowly she slid her fingers from her pussy. Her thumb slipped over her clit and she shuddered at the touch.

  It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. Helen opened her eyes, staring into the darkness. It was as though she’d shed her own skin and had moved into the body of someone else, someone she didn’t know.

  Her mind was sluggish and hazy, replete with the climax. She continued to lightly stroke over her inflamed lips, across her clit, and echoing shudders passed through her, again and again.

  Helen felt as if every inch of her body had come alive, ready and eager to be awakened. It was dangerous. What would the people in her hometown say if they knew what thoughts ran wild through her mind right now? There were certainly no thoughts of her duties as mayor.

  She turned onto her side. Gossip column headlines were made from what she planned to do. If anyone ever found out, she would never be able to hold her head up again. Not in a small town like Ferris. She could forget about another term as mayor.

  She squinted across the room toward the table where her cell phone lay, highlighted by the light filtering in through the curtains. She should cancel the appointment. What was she doing here? It was as though someone else had taken control of her body, her mind, and Helen the mayor was no longer in charge.

  It was some other woman who took her place. She rolled onto her back, and her hands again roamed over her body as though memorizing every inch of skin, as the other woman, the wild one inside her again reasserted control.

  She was not going to cancel the appointment. She needed it, needed him.

  Fallon.

  It was nothing more than a lustful attraction to an attractive man. One she could have for a couple of hours, and then it would be over with and she would return to being the untouchable mayor, having fulfilled her fantasies.

  Would it be enough? Or was sh
e opening the original Pandora’s Box by doing this?

  It didn’t matter. Something inside her said that if she didn’t go through with it, she would strangle, having all the life sucked out of her, becoming nothing more than a cold, marble statue. She needed to feel…more. She was desperate for it.

  And she would have it. Whatever the consequences might bring. She would not regret it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Helen smoothed a hand down over her thigh, attempting to remove a wrinkle in the material that didn’t exist. She glanced at the turquoise and silver bracelet watch on her wrist for the umpteenth time.

  He wasn’t late, it was just that she was nervous. She really wasn’t expecting him for at least another ten minutes. Her stomach flip-flopped and she pressed a hand over her abdomen.

  She felt like she should be picking the petals from a daisy like she did when she was a child. Should she or shouldn’t she? And then deciding the answer was better left up to the fates.

  The call was made, the appointment set, and now she would just need to wait and see what developed from it. The idea of spending time with a stranger in an intimate fashion—an interlude that would not involve commitment, just passion…or lust to more rightly put a name to it.

  A person needed intimacy sometimes—and not necessarily with commitment attached to it. Helen liked the freedoms she had without being required to answer to another person. She liked the idea of being able to enjoy the company of another without expectations, other than maybe the payment for services rendered. That facet of this decision still left her in control of whatever took place. There was some measure of security in that knowledge.

  She couldn’t help smiling at that thought. Services rendered. She could just picture being presented with an invoice for these types of services. What would her assistant say if she were to open an envelope with “escort services” as the explanation?

  She shook her head. At least that wouldn’t occur. The woman who took her credit card information over the phone assured her of that. Helen’s credit card statements didn’t go to the office anyway; they went to her home. She was using her personal card this weekend, so there should be no questions asked by anyone. No answers required.