Are you wearing nylons?
No. It’s too hot for them. I prefer bare legs anyway. I shaved this morning so my skin is nice and soft.
My imagination decided to join into the action. I closed my eyes and pictured Harrison in his hotel room, stretched out on the bed. His tie would be gone and the top three buttons of his dress shirt would be undone. I knew what his naked skin looked like, how much hair covered his chest, which only added to my mental image. The buzz of my phone had me staring at more words. A request.
I want you to place your hand on the inside of your knee.
It was arousing to have him tell me what to do without the pressure of him being here. I didn’t have to comply, but it would prove far more interesting if I did. Holding my phone with my left hand, I awkwardly typed a response as I wrapped my cold fingers around the side of my knee.
Done.
Good. Rub your thumb over the skin. Nice and slow. I can imagine how it feels. How you smell.
Harrison’s hands were far bigger than mine, but I did my best to picture it being him.
I’ve taken my shirt off. I have a hard-on thinking about what you’re doing. You’re such a bad girl, getting off at work.
Holy fuck. Seriously!
Spread your legs as far as your skirt will let you.
The cotton dug into my skin as I spread my legs. The skirt was in reality knee-length, giving me far less room to play than Harrison would assume. That will teach me to lie.
I want you to slide your hand along your inner thigh. Don’t touch your pussy though. Drag your nails across your skin as you go.
I was hearing his voice in my head now. It was low, husky. He’d speak the words like he had after he’d come that night, an almost-growl that would vibrate deep in my chest.
My pussy was damp with need, and my nipples were hardening beneath my bra. I tickled my way along the sensitive skin, going oh-so close to my panties before sliding away. The tease was a seduction I hadn’t experienced before. Not like this at any rate.
I want you to put your phone on your thigh. Touch your breast with your hand. Leave the nipple for now. Just squeeze the fleshy part like you know I would.
Biting my tongue to prevent myself from moaning, I somehow managed to do what he asked. This was so many kinds of wrong; I didn’t know where to begin. I was teasing myself at work in the bathroom. Shit, there was a chance that I was going to come without him touching me. God, this was madness.
Slip your hand under your shirt. I want you to pinch your nipple now.
Oh, yes sir!
My brain stopped worrying about what was right and wrong and decided to go with the flow. Going from beneath, I pushed my hand under my bra and flicked my fingertip over the sensitive nub. I couldn’t stop the sigh from coming this time. Nor did I keep my other hand from going too far beneath my skirt. My nails grazed the wet cotton of my panties, sending a shiver through me.
That was when the bathroom door opened and the steady click of high heels filled the room.
Shit.
Why? Why now?
I want you to press your fingers against your pussy. Rub your clit.
Sorry, Harrison. That wasn’t going to happen now. I grabbed my phone as I pulled my hand out from beneath my shirt. Someone just came into the bathroom.
So.
So, I’m not doing anything else. They might hear. The woman in the other stall was now peeing. Wonderful. We lost the moment.
You’re calling a veto then?
Dude, she’s peeing.
Yeah, that’s a mood killer. Sorry.
Don’t be. That was the most fun I’ve had in a while. I’ll need the assistance of my vibrator when I get home. I needed to pick up a fresh set of batteries on my way. I’d worn the last set out already.
The real question is, do you consider this a successful Day Two?
Excellent question. Sure we’d sexted, but it didn’t feel quite right. Nobody came.
That poses a problem.
Not really. While I might have a woman—doh, make that two women—in my space, he didn’t. I grinned as I typed. Do you still have your pants on?
A pause. Not anymore.
The full extent of my experience with this sort of flirting had occurred in the past five minutes. Luckily for Harrison, I was a fast learner.
I want you to grab your cock through your underwear. Give it a good hard squeeze, but no stroking. He didn’t respond, which I took as a good thing. How hard are you?
I could break concrete.
That must be uncomfortable.
You have no idea.
I think you should relieve some pressure then. Why don’t you unbutton your shirt the rest of the way. Leave it on though.
Done.
Someone flushed the toilet, washed up, and left, but I still wasn’t alone. This was turning out to be a serious lesson in self-control. I want to see how fast you can come. Push your underwear down to your knees. Tell me when you’re—
Done.
—done. Fast. Okay, start stroking. Don’t type, just read. The pressure was now on for me to make this good for him. Using my pirate porn as inspiration, I typed as quickly as I could manage.
I want you to picture me on my knees between your legs. I bet you didn’t know that I love to give bjs, did you? I do. I love to lick up your shaft. I really love the taste of your arousal, that flavor that’s only you. It’s a bit bitter. Unique. I’d suck on your head a bit. Flick it with my tongue. Then I’d use my hands and tease your balls. I’d dig my nails into your thighs.
I bet you’d smell good. A bit sweaty from being in your suit all day traveling. I like that smell. Musky. You’d be close to coming. You put your hand on the back of my head. You want to control my actions, but I’m not letting you. I just keep sucking and licking. Your balls tighten in my hand. You’re so close to coming. I pull back when I feel your body tighten. Your come splashes across my face, gets on my lips. I lick off what I can.
“Are you okay in there?” A woman’s voice from outside my stall jerks me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I heard panting. It sounded like you were going to be sick.”
“No. No, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Yup. Thanks again.”
Dear God: I’d like to die now. Thanks. Sincerely, me.
I waited until the woman left and I was certain that I was alone once more before chancing another look down at my phone. Harrison hadn’t responded to any of my texts. I tucked my hair behind my ear before typing. Harrison?
Still nothing. I stood on shaking legs, unlocked the stall door, and poked my head out. The coast was clear. I washed my hands and made it back to my cubicle before my phone buzzed.
Sorry. I had to take a shower after that. I got come in my hair thanks to you.
Sorry! I so wasn’t sorry.
No you’re not. But the sentiment is appreciated.
You’re welcome. He’d come. It had actually worked. I’m calling Day Two a success.
Even if you didn’t get to enjoy it?
Who says I didn’t?? Twice now, I’d been able to make Harrison come without touching him. I was clearly already mastering this whole sex thing. Who needed cards! Don’t worry about me. I plan to have a repeat of Day One the minute I get home.
I wish I could be there to witness it. Maybe when I get back.
Maybe. It will depend on what we need to do for Day Three. This was nice; easy banter with a man whom I liked. I’d missed the back and forth Rob and I used to have. The way we’d tease each other for hours before wrapping up in each other’s arms.
The moment Rob flashed to mind, I lost some of the high I’d felt from the bathroom. This wasn’t the same. Harrison had been clear from the start that his participation in these games was about the sex, about giving me a safe environment where I could explore. He wasn’t interested in cuddling on the couch watching the evening news. Do you watch the n
ews?
Random. No, I don’t. I get what I need online.
Oh.
Alyssa, are you okay?
I’m good. I better get back to work.
I’ll see you in a few days. I’m back in Toronto on Friday. Supper?
I typed sure, but quickly changed it. I think I have plans. I’ll let you know.
Fair enough. Be well.
I didn’t know how, but I was going to have to figure something out before he got back to town.
11
I needed a plan. Well, I always need a plan, regardless of what the situation was. That’s been my thing ever since I was old enough to talk. I totally blame my mother. But if I was going to be successful with my thirty days sexventure, then I needed to approach this logically. I needed to make sure I had every angle considered to ensure we both got what we wanted. I took out a piece of paper and made a list.
Step one. Read all the cards.
Step two. Decide if there is something on said cards that I’m uncomfortable with.
Step three. ???
Step four. Have sex.
Well, it was a start.
Harrison had texted me a few times over the week, but we didn’t have any repeat performances of Day Two. At first I’d been a little disappointed. Once I’d had time to think about what we’d done, I realized how much fun I’d actually had. Sexting at work might become a thing I do with a future boyfriend. If I ever got that far with someone. The longer we talked, the more I realized that he was giving me some breathing room. Which was great because I was putting more than enough pressure on myself.
Today he was coming home and I still hadn’t figured out what my next step was. Instead of worrying about it, I got out my list and pushed my plan into high gear. The logical place was to start with step one. I placed each card on my kitchen table in neat rows, spreading them out so I could see the big picture.
That big picture was turning out to be a whole lot of interesting sex. Who knew Rob had such a creative imagination? As I reviewed the cards I made a list of any items I thought I might need to get through all thirty days. Lube (x4), box of condoms (x2??), a grapefruit (buy closer to the day), vibrator (use the purple one), latex gloves (he really took my suggestion that night seriously??), lingerie, a paddle (ask Nikki) . . .
Two sheets of paper later and I had my 30 Days survival kit list completed.
Yeah. So, this was going to prove interesting.
I tore through my closet in search of a gym bag that I’d be able to use to keep all of my implements of doom in one place. Some items I’d have to go shopping for, but there were a lot I could scrounge from my condo. All I had to do was find that old bag that I threw in here after signing up for the—
—there it was!
The bright neon logo from my rarely visited gym was buried beneath a giant garbage bag filled with old clothing. Both fell out when I pulled on the handle. I pushed the garbage bag to the side, determined to finally drop that puppy off at the donation bin down the street, and turned my attention toward my new sex survival kit.
I had a list and I had a bag. The only thing left to do was stock up and get prepped for Harrison’s return.
By the time I heard the wheels of his suitcase roll past my door, I’d only managed to gather half of the items on my list. I’d intended to go out to the sex store to get a paddle and another two bottles of lube, but chickened out at the last minute. Still, I had enough from my shopping trip with Nikki to get us started. I did manage to walk into the pharmacy and pick up two packages of condoms. I apparently was having a blushing competition with the young boy behind the counter when he rang up my purchase. Thankfully, he’d mastered the art of not making eye contact and we both survived the encounter.
I waited until Harrison had passed my door before opening up to catch a glimpse of him. My breath caught at the sight of his disheveled appearance. His normally neat black hair looked as though he’d spent the better part of the day running his fingers through it. His dress shirt was still tucked in, but even from this distance I could see the deep wrinkles that had formed from sitting for long periods.
He looked like he needed a long hot shower and a good meal.
And possibly the opportunity to participate in Day Three.
Maybe.
“You’re turning into a stalker.” His voice echoed down the hallway. He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled.
“I didn’t want to bug you. Just wanted to say hi.” I stuck my hand out and gave him a little wave. “Hi.”
“Hello.” Without looking, he slipped the key into its lock and opened the door. “Did you have a good week?”
“I did.” Feeling a little more confident, I shifted so I could lean against my doorjamb to look at him. “How were your meetings? Get your client sorted out?”
“Not completely, but I did avert a crisis.” Using his foot he pushed his suitcase through the door before sauntering back toward me. “Nice to see you looking so happy.”
“I’m in a good mood.” As he got closer I was better able to see how tired he was. “You look wiped out.”
“Yeah, it was a long week.” He ran his hand along the back of his neck. “My only bright spots were talking to you.”
Aww. My heart melted just a tiny bit. “Don’t you want to know why I’m in a good mood?”
“Of course I do.” He smiled, making the skin around his eyes crinkle. “Why?”
“I have a plan.”
“Why don’t I find that reassuring?”
“Because you’re a smart man.” Tucking my hair behind my ear, I took a chance, leaned in, and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for Day Two. It caught me off guard, but I’ve had a lot of fun replaying that in my mind.”
Harrison reached up and braced his hand against the wall next to my head. His presence was as arousing as it was reassuring. “You were very good.”
My heart pounded and I had to force myself to keep breathing at an even pace. “Thanks.”
“I assume you’ve looked over the rest of the cards. That’s where your plan came from?”
Even though he hadn’t said it out loud, I knew he wanted to know if I was still good to move forward with our plan. I nodded once and tried to keep my lips from trembling when I smiled. “I’ve made a list.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“And a survival bag. Things that we’ll need to complete the tasks laid out on the cards. I don’t have everything yet, but we’ll be good for the first little while.”
“Good to know.”
“I didn’t know how busy you were going to be for the next little while. I didn’t want to make any assumptions or anything, but I wanted to be ready to go just in case you had some time to fit me into your schedule in the next week or two—”
“Alyssa.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“You’re rambling.”
“Sorry.”
He tapped the end of my nose with his finger. “I’m in town for the next two weeks. Then I have to take another trip back to Montreal. I’m sure we can fit a few of your cards into the schedule.”
I shouldn’t have been as excited as I was at the prospect of having sex with him, but I was. I might be a bit on the inexperienced side when it came to dating, but I did love having sex. Rob used to joke that it was our favorite hobby. Considering how often we ended up making love versus going out to the movies or doing anything else, it was totally believable.
“What just crossed through your mind?” Harrison was frowning and he’d pulled back slightly.
“Nothing. Just thinking about sex. I seem to do that a lot now.”
“No, not sex. There was something else. Your expression changed.”
Did it? I couldn’t imaging thinking about Rob would be that obvious. Apparently I was wrong. “Rob.”
“Ah.” Harrison stepped back. “You let me know when you’re ready to keep going. I’ll be around. I need to have a shower and get cleaned up.”
I should have said something to stop him from leaving, but the words were locked in my throat. It’s not like Harrison didn’t know about Rob. He’d been clear from the beginning that he didn’t want anything but sex from this relationship. So why the hell was he acting this way?
And why did it bother me as much as it did?
12
When I’m trying to work out a problem, I tend to pace. It’s my thing. After Harrison disappeared into his condo, I took to walking up and down the length of my hallway. I’d upset him by thinking about Rob. Not that I’d done it intentionally, but it didn’t excuse the fact.
If I was going to move forward with Harrison and my 30 Days experiment, then as difficult as it might be, I was going to have to push all thoughts of Rob aside.
Easier said than done, but in the end, it was the only way I’d truly be able to move forward.
With my mind made up, I grabbed my sexvival kit and marched over to Harrison’s condo. I knocked twice and waited for the inevitable thud of his approaching footfall. I didn’t wait for him to invite me in, instead pushing my way into his place with a smile and an “I get it.”
“Hello, Alyssa. Sure, come on in. Make yourself at home.”
I kicked off my shoes and headed straight for his living room. “Really, dude? You still haven’t unpacked.”
“Been busy.”
“I can help if you need it.”
“No thanks. What’s up?”
I set the gym bag on his coffee table. “I told you. I get it.”
Harrison crossed his arms and stood with his legs hip width apart. “Get what?”
“Why I upset you earlier.”
“I wasn’t upset.” He looked down at the floor and gave his head a shake. “I had a long week and I’m tired.”
“Fine, you weren’t upset. Miffed. Do men get miffed? Ticked? Annoyed? Whatever. Listen, I think we need to get this out into the open if we’re going to continue.”
Harrison smiled, but it was tight, practiced, the sort of one I imaged he showed his clients. “Get what out?”
The little speech that I’d hastily planned in my brain on the thirty-second walk over here evaporated. Guess I’d have to wing it. “I’m a thirty-five-year-old widow.”
30 Days Page 9
