“It’s good to see you,” she said.
“Is that what you called me in here to tell me?” He could feel himself weakening, feel her scent twine around his senses, pulling him back to where he was almost a month ago.
“No.” She looked into his face as though she was searching for something. “No.” Tam bit her lips together and then clasped her hands in her lap. She sighed. “I’ve never had to beg a man for anything in my life. Never.”
“I don’t want you to beg me for anything.”
“Are you sure about that?” She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, that’s not how I wanted this to go. Just listen.” Tam sighed again. “I miss you. I want to see you. I want us to be lovers again.”
“Are you still seeing that other guy?”
Tam pursed her lips. “Yes, I am.”
Ian held himself still, willing the disappointment not to show on his face. “This conversation is over. It was good seeing you.” He stood up.
“Ian, please. You don’t understand.”
He looked down at her. “Don’t beg me for anything, Tam. If you want me, here I am. If you want him and me and every other piece of dick that catches your eye, then you can beg until your tongue falls out and your tail wags off. It’s not going to happen. I would say ‘sorry,’ but I’m not.” He forced himself to take a step, and then two, away from her. “Enjoy yourself tonight. Enjoy your life. I hope you find whatever it is you’re searching for.”
No matter how many times he did it, walking away from Tam never got any easier. Ian went back out to the bar, wiping his face clean of any real emotion. Tanisha was more than happy to reclaim her place between his thighs, and he let her, even buying her a drink to make himself seem more welcoming. He never noticed when Tam left.
Chapter 10
“The royal penis is clean, your highness.”
Ian couldn’t even smile as he watched one of his favorite parts from Coming to America. Truth be told, he didn’t understand why he was torturing himself by watching the movie. The phantom scent of warm, rosemary-flavored Tam snuggled up against him on the couch, making him long for her even more.
She had laughed at that line in the movie and then turned to ask him, “Would you like someone to wash your penis?” The question had been more of a suggestion than a real query, and Ian had gotten instantly hard, ready to ask her if she would use a washcloth or her tongue. A loud knock on Ian’s door jolted him out of his memories. He got up to answer, wondering who it could be at this time of night.
Another knock sounded at the window, and he heard Rashawn shout, “If you’re in there jacking off, wipe it up and put the dick away! We don’t want to see that shit!”
Ian opened the door.
“We could hear you moping all the way from Coral Gables.”
Derrick nudged Ian out of the way to walk inside the house. “Get dressed. We’re taking you out.”
“I personally have had enough of this pining bullshit,” Rashawn said, coming in behind his friend. “You need to get back on that horse and ride it till everybody’s satisfied.”
“Uh huh.” Ian eyed Rashawn with a jaundiced look.
“I think you’ll enjoy this party we’re taking you to,” Derrick said. “I know I will.”
After Ian reluctantly got dressed, they piled into Derrick’s Range Rover and took off. When the truck finally stopped a half hour later, it was on the side street of a neighborhood Ian had never been to before.
He and Rashawn got out of the truck and followed Derrick down the street and up the nondescript-looking walkway to a red door. It was the entrance to a traditional-looking three-story house, not at all out of place in the suburban neighborhood, with its colorful garden and periwinkle exterior paint. They could hear faint strains of music coming from inside the house, something slow and mellow. At Derrick’s knock, a woman came to the door. She smiled warmly when she saw them.
“Aren’t you boys just looking fine tonight?”
The woman kissed Derrick on both cheeks and tugged him inside along with his friends.
“I haven’t seen you here in a long time,” she said to him. Her pretty mahogany skin glowed from beneath a thin golden sheath.
“I’ve been a little busy,” Derrick said. “You know…life.”
“I understand.” She chuckled. “You know where everything is and how to maximize your good time. If you have questions, you ask Alee at the bar.”
Derrick squeezed her arm in thanks and then nodded at his friends to follow him up the winding staircase. Ian was beginning to see what kind of party this was. Although the people downstairs were all fully dressed, they were relaxed and laughing with their drinks cupped loosely in their hands as other hands casually caressed them, either playing with hair or touching innocuously bared body parts. As though they were warming up for some main event.
“Is this a whorehouse?”
“I’m shocked and disgusted that you even think I’d take you to such a place.” Derrick’s offended tone didn’t fool anyone.
Rashawn snickered.
“No, my friend,” Derrick said, raising his voice to be heard above the growing noise. “It’s a party. A place where people come to have a good time.”
Rashawn laughed again. “And keep on coming again and again.”
“You are so fucking corny.” Derrick shook his head.
More people leaned against the railing that ringed the entire second floor to watch the byplay going on downstairs and pick who and what they wanted for the night. The anticipation of sex was thick in the air.
Ian glanced at Rashawn. “Are you OK with all this?”
His friend nodded, taming his smile. “I’m good. No worries.”
With an answering nod, Ian turned back to his contemplation of the crowd. “I’m not really feeling this, fellas,” Ian said.
“We know, but you will soon.”
Derrick occasionally talked about these kinds of parties. Parties where the men and women were willing to do anything as long as it felt good.
“Pick what you like,” Derrick said to Ian. “It’s all fun tonight.”
Rashawn nudged him. “And don’t try to push up on someone who looks just like that broad you’re trying to forget.”
No one could replace Tam or even look like her. That was one of the things he’d found so appealing. The woman in his dreams and the woman who’d eventually found her way into his bed were the same. And unique. He’d never find someone like her again.
“Look at that,” Derrick said, pointing to an open alcove a few feet away that had its own little show going on. “That guy’s having a little too much fun with that ass.”
Ian looked despite himself. And instantly regretted it. Heinrich, his colleague from the university, exerted himself over the pert, pale rear end of an ecstatically crying woman. The sweat dripped down his face as he effectively wielded a paddle, swinging it through the air before connecting it sharply with the reddened bottom turned up over his knee. The wet crotch of the woman’s panties clearly outlined her lips.
Heinrich looked up as his new spectators approached. A few already gathered around him wandered away, sufficiently warmed up to stage their own show elsewhere.
Jesus! Ian did not want to see this. But he didn’t want to be rude. “Hey, Rick.”
“Ian.” Heinrich stopped in mid swing to mop at his face with a white handkerchief. “I didn’t know you indulged.”
“I don’t. My friends dragged me here.”
Rashawn turned an incredulous look to Ian. “You know this guy?”
“He teaches at the university.”
“Damn! Now I know you’re the most uptight guy at that school.”
Derrick stepped back, holding up his hands. He was staying out of it.
“Why don’t you try not to be an asshole tonight?” Ian suggested, baring his teeth.
“I’m just trying to help you out.” Rashawn grinned.
“Right…” With a friend like this, who needed ene
mies?
But Rashawn dismissed Ian’s fight-face with a shrug. “She’s nice,” he said, gesturing to the girl over Heinrich’s knee. Ian hadn’t even seen her face.
“Yeah, she is.” Heinrich smiled up at Rashawn. “Want to share?”
“If ever a question had an obvious answer.” Rashawn’s grin widened.
The two men smiled over the bright red bottom just as the woman turned to them both and added her own smile to the grinning twosome.
Derrick exchanged a glance with Ian. The two men turned away and left Rashawn to his games.
“I need a drink,” Ian muttered.
They got drinks at the bar and fought their way through the crowd to find a space on the oversize couch in the second-floor living room. The couple next to Derrick tongued each other down, sucking at each other’s faces until the noises they made started to turn Ian’s stomach. Or turn him on. He wasn’t quite sure which. The woman’s hand snaked out to stroke Derrick’s thigh. Her long burgundy-tipped fingers spread over Derrick’s trousers and then dipped between his thighs. Derrick lifted her hand as if he wasn’t quite sure where it came from and then dropped it back on its owner. He scooted closer to Ian.
Ian grinned. “I thought that was the kind of thing you wanted here.”
“Not when I’m talking to you. That’s a little freaky. And before you ask, yeah, too freaky for me.”
Ian smiled and put the beer to his lips.
“So, is this little excursion doing you any good?” Derrick asked.
“What? Sitting next to a couple that’s going to be fucking any second now on top of a sofa with a higher sperm count than my ball sac?”
“Yes.”
Ian smiled weakly. “It isn’t. But thanks for trying.”
“She’s really got you bad, huh?”
Ian winced, unable to deny it. “Yeah, real bad. I’ve never had it like this before. Not even…” Ian thought carefully before he finished saying what was waiting to burst past his lips, “Not even with Zoë.” He swallowed.
“Shit.” Derrick stared at his friend. “Are you serious?”
Ian didn’t say anything. He just stared out at the decadent sprawl of bodies before him. “Have you ever had it bad for a woman?” he asked.
“No. Never. I get inoculated against that kind of thing.” They both knew he was lying.
The couple next to them stretched out even more on the sofa, and the woman’s leg flung out over Derrick’s thigh. She moaned as her lover cupped her pussy through her slacks. Derrick arched an eyebrow and then, almost as an afterthought, leaned over to watch the action. Having lost his audience, Ian adjusted his position on the couch to do the same.
The woman who was stretched out had her hair cut in a sleek bob that made a blade of her already narrow face. Her lips parted to moan when her partner for the evening tugged down the zipper of her pants and slowly worked slim fingers inside. Her breasts were out. They were full and had tiny nipples like Hershey’s Kisses. The lover feasted on the small dark nipples, flicking a quick pink tongue over the hard nubs until the woman groaned and churned her hips against the couch. Derrick held on to the leg thrown casually over his.
Ian couldn’t see her pussy, but he could smell it. The hot, musky scent made him rise full and hard in his trousers. His body was ready to fuck, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t the least bit interested in fucking her or anyone else at this party. He appreciated his friends for wanting to distract him from his pathetic situation, but it was too soon for him to get into anything like this. But he could see that Derrick was becoming interested in the current proceedings. Very interested.
The woman on the sofa was quiet. But her lover wasn’t. He made appreciative murmurs as he suckled the thick breasts, growling low in his throat when the woman widened her legs even more to receive his fingers deep inside her. His teeth tightened on her nipples, and the woman threw back her head, gasping silently. The fingers worked in her pussy, thrusting in a quick rhythm while her hips bucked against the couch and her leg flailed in Derrick’s grasp. Ian watched her mouth. And she watched him.
“Fuck, yeah,” she mouthed as her eyes locked with his. “Fuck me. Yes…”
Her teeth flashed as she quietly snarled the last word. Her partner’s fingers moved faster, and her hips bucked harder. Derrick rested his hand on his thigh, very near his stiff dick, but he did not touch himself. Ian watched her and tried to imagine Tam doing something like this. He couldn’t.
The woman apparently came. Her leg flailed one last time, and her hips abruptly pushed into the air, arching into her lover’s hand. Then she was still. When the guy raised his head from her still hard nipples, they saw that he was a woman. Derrick licked his lips.
“That wasn’t too bad,” he said.
“I’ve seen better,” Ian said with a slight smile. He sipped his beer, but the damn thing was almost hot. “I’m going to grab another beer. Want something?”
“No, I’m good.”
Ian got up from the couch and went for the bar. On his way back from the bar with a cold beer in hand he saw that Derrick had joined the amorous couple on the couch. He had more than the woman’s leg in his lap now and seemed very happy indeed to be getting her attentions. Ian shook his head and then backed out of the room that was rapidly filling up with an audience for the event taking place on the couch. He swam through all kinds of offers—to have his children, suck his dick, give him a hand job, hold his beer, be his cum rag for the night—just to get to the back door.
The deck was relatively empty except for a lone man jacking off as he watched two men and a very greedy woman go at it on a blanket in the grass below. The man stood, a sweating glass of Scotch in one hand, his purple-headed dick in the other, methodically stroking himself as if he was alone in his own bedroom.
Ian walked down the deck’s stairs to sit under the large maple tree in the backyard. He missed Tam. Honestly and completely. Even in the midst of all this mindless fucking, he wanted her. Not necessarily to fuck. Just to talk to. To see. To ask if she was into this kind of thing.
The man on the deck finished up with a splash and a restrained groan, but the threesome on the grass kept on going. One of the men lay on his back under the woman’s spread thighs, sucking on her pussy while the other man worked hard at trying to give her a pearl necklace. Her thick, cum-slicked breasts and his long straining dick made the likelihood of success very high.
Ian sipped his beer, felt it sweating and cold in his hand. The tree was rough against his back, his dick a limp weight in his trousers. Sounds washed over him—moans, sighs, the liquid slap of flesh against flesh—and he felt dirty, in need of Tam’s cleansing presence.
Then he saw her. It had to be a trick of the light or of his second beer on an empty stomach. She looked so different hovering above him at the railing in her hip-hugging short skirt and the blouse that lifted and separated her breasts, offering them up like ripe fruit for anyone near to pluck. She looked…common. The trick turned and laughed with someone beyond Ian’s sight. Her long silver earrings danced in the air as she turned her head. Then the trick pushed away from the railing and disappeared inside.
Ian realized then that it wasn’t the light or his beer. It was Tam. She moved with that unmistakable grace, that sense of owning the room, the space, even the universe she occupied. Ian hesitated only a moment before following her. The grass slid wetly underfoot, but he quickly regained his balance, crossed the yard, and ran up the wooden stairs.
Ian followed the flashing earrings and tightly girded ass, watching to see what she would do. Her escort—the man from the gallery—tugged her along while his eyes took in everything around him, devouring all the different types of sex taking place in the house. Tam watched, earrings dancing, as her head moved from side to side, her gaze flickering over the multiple visual stimuli.
It wasn’t long before a woman appeared at Tam’s side and lazily caressed her ass. Tam’s lover looked immediately interested. But when he touched the str
anger, the woman dismissed him with a cool shake of her head. Tam wasn’t tempted, so shook her own head and watched the woman go without the smallest sign of regret. A man approached them, then another, and another, then a couple. All were refused with Tam’s smiling dismissal. Her companion was interested, but she was not.
If she wasn’t interested in fucking any of them, why was she here?
Ian followed them, sipping his beer, until Tam’s lover was lured away by a barely dressed set of twins. Tam looked around her, seemed lost for a moment, and then took a deep breath and walked toward the bar. She collided with Ian on her way there.
“Excuse me,” she said, recoiling from his body.
Ian knew when she realized it was him. Her hand grasped his biceps, and she inhaled quickly, filling her nose with his scent.
“Are you following me?” he asked before she could completely get her bearings.
Her hand tightened convulsively on his arm before letting go. Tam smelled potently like herself, of rosemary and green tea. The scent took him back to the night in her bed, the lushly colored pillows, the soft weight of her breasts against his chest, her pussy eagerly swallowing him.
“I didn’t know this was your kind of place,” she said, ignoring his question for the foolishness it was.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Their shoulders brushed as they walked toward the bar together.
“Apparently so.” She nodded at the G-stringed bartender. “Long Island iced tea, please.”
Tam made Ian reckless enough to signal for another beer. Before she could get out her money, he paid for both their drinks.
“Does all this make you wet?” he asked, putting his wallet away.
It all seemed so surreal, the two of them walking through the house full of gyrating, fucking, and sweating bodies, talking calmly after an absence of weeks between them. Tam looked down at the thick bulge straining against his jeans.
“Does all this make you hard?” She didn’t bother to hide the sneer in her voice.
Propositioning the Professor (Professional Lovers Series Book 2) Page 9
