BY THE HOUR, ATLANTA, Book 1

by LaBrecque, Jennifer

  “He described you. He did a good job too. “ She smiled. “Anyway, he said he was covering your tab if you showed up.”

  That was sweet of him. She smiled back at the waitress, “Then I guess I’ll have to thank the man on the sax.”

  The woman dropped Georgina a wink. “I guess you will.”

  Thankfully the waitress couldn’t see Georgina’s blush in the nearly-dark room. She hadn’t meant it that way. The waitress moved on, and Georgina sipped at her drink. Delicious. It was the perfect balance of tonic, gin, and lime. The music flowed around and through her, dispersing the tension that had been a constant for her lately. She hadn’t quite finished her drink when the waitress appeared with a fresh one.

  She wasn’t sure the last time she’d felt this relaxed. She also wasn’t sure another drink was a good idea, but she was cabbing it and they were free so she sipped. It was even better than the first one.

  The set ended and Kennedy made his way to her table. He dropped into the seat next to her. “Hey, Georgina, how’s it going?”

  He always looked handsome in his suit at work, but he looked hip and drop-dead sexy now in well-cut trousers with a dark T-shirt hugging his broad shoulders and chest.

  “It’s going great. You guys are good. I love the music. I like the club too. Oh, and thanks for the drink…well drinks.”

  “Sure thing.” The waitress appeared with a drink for Kennedy. “Thanks, Lydia.” He turned his attention back to Georgina, his eyes dark and unfathomable. He smelled good, like some expensive men’s cologne. “You couldn’t talk George into coming?” Kennedy said. “He doesn’t like this kind of music?”

  Perhaps it was the alcohol, simply being away from work, or the tension of maintaining a pretense, Georgina didn't know. She shrugged. “George isn’t my business any more. I moved out.”

  Kennedy nodded but otherwise didn’t particularly react. “Oh. Did you move this weekend?”

  “Two months ago.”

  That generated a reaction. His expression was priceless. “Two…months? You never said anything.”

  She shrugged again, feeling carefree courtesy of the G&Ts and the atmosphere. “It didn’t really make any difference to anything at work, so….”

  “You okay?” He took a long swallow of his drink.

  The hardest part had been making the decision to leave. She missed the condo, but interestingly enough, she hadn’t missed her husband, or at least the husband he’d become. She still missed the man she’d married, her knight in shining armor…or so she’d thought. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “I’m not trying to get up in your business, but if you need anything handled, I know people.”

  She was pretty sure she understood what “handled” meant. She was also very touched Kennedy would offer without any details. It told Georgina that he trusted that if she’d left, George had been a problem and if she needed the problem addressed, Kennedy had her back.

  “That’s good to know.”

  He smiled and something in his smile sent a shiver skittering down her spine. “You know I’m serious.”

  She smoothed the damp cocktail napkin with her right index finger. “I know and I appreciate it. I won’t forget.”

  “You look nice tonight, Gina.”

  She was glad she’d changed into the simple black dress and heels.

  It had been a long time since a handsome man had sent a compliment her way. It went to her head far faster than the alcohol. She laughed. “Thank you.”

  He leaned in closer and her breath caught somewhere in her chest. Dear God, he smelled good and looked even better. “I’m serious.”

  He was serious about a lot tonight. All kinds of warning bells went off in her head. They worked together, and she was technically still married. “Okay.”

  He leaned in closer still, and Georgina’s palms began to sweat. “I’m glad you came tonight. You gonna stay awhile?”

  Good-looking from a distance, he qualified as a one-man destructive unit of sexy up close. She reminded herself they would both have to show up at work tomorrow…at the same place. But, she was here and the music was good and staying didn’t mean anything more than just that. “For a bit.”

  He hesitated and then nodded. “Okay. I’ve got to get back up there.” He stood, which put his crotch at eye level.

  She forced herself to look away and up to his face. “Tell the guys it’s great.”

  “Will do.” Still he lingered by her table, and she didn’t imagine the interest in his eyes.

  She so would not still be hanging around when he finished the next set because…well, it just wasn’t a good idea. “See you at work tomorrow.”

  “If you’re not still here, then yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Clearly he hoped she’d stay.

  Clearly that wasn’t a good idea.

  * * *

  Arden’s package arrived Monday afternoon via courier.

  She had wrapped up a client meeting in the conference room and headed down the hallway to her office. Martina, the admininistrative assistant, flagged Arden down as she passed the cube.

  “Arden, you’ve got a package. It arrived while you were in with the Tulley account. It came via courier.” She handed over a brown-paper wrapped package.

  Arden immediately checked the sender. Dodson and Mathers—where Janice worked.

  “Wonder what it is?” Martina cocked her head to one side and peered as if she might have developed x-ray vision and could see inside. “Is that a new client?” Martina’s curiosity was palpable.

  “No, it’s not a new client. My friend Janice works there.”

  “Oh.” Obviously disappointed, Martina sank back into her chair. Then she perked back up. “It must be something pretty good if she couriered it over.” She watched expectantly, waiting for Arden to open the package. That was so not going to happen.

  Instinct told her it was from him, and anything from him wasn’t for public consumption but was meant to be viewed behind closed doors.

  “Thanks,” Arden said.

  Martina didn’t have the nerve to say it to Arden’s face but muttered as Arden walked away, “Be that way.”

  Her heart thumping like a caged animal, Arden closed her office door behind her and crossed to her desk. She sank into her chair and placed the box on her tidy desktop, the brown craft paper several shades darker than the pale ash wood of her desk.

  Despite the cool air circulating via the air conditioner, a faint sheen of sweat coated her skin. She should open it. She would open it…in due time. Crazily, it felt like some kind of foreplay. She was turned on by the uncertainty of what was in the box…but the absolute certainty that it was from him and something sexual.

  Leaving the package unopened on her desk, she clicked onto her email. She read the same email three times and still didn’t really know what it said, she was so distracted by the box.

  Chocolates? Perfume? Risqué underwear? Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. The suspense was killing her.

  She pulled the scissors out of the drawer and carefully cut the tape holding the heavy brown kraft paper together. Inside, a box was wrapped in an embossed white gift paper.

  The air conditioning cycled on again, sending a gust of cool air blowing against her neck. That felt good. Everything seemed to hum—the AC, the conversation outside, the muted traffic, her body.

  She ripped away the paper and opened the box. Folded inside tissue paper was a tie—a man’s silk tie in shades of brown and green in an abstract pattern. She picked up the note folded on top. Her hands shook as she read it.

  Wear this with panties and heels.

  The handwriting was bold and deliberate, the strokes heavy. No signature. No request. Simply the directive.

  A tie. There was something more erotic and evocative about that single item of silk and his instructions than if it had been any of the other items that had filtered through her mind. And how did he know where she worked?

  She snagged her cell phone and te
xted Janice. “Did you give my work address to him?”

  Within seconds, Janice had texted back. “No. I couriered the package for him. What was it?”

  Arden had spilled all the dirty details of her tryst to Janice and Deb. Now, however, she found herself oddly reluctant to divulge what he’d sent her. Arden ignored Janice’s question and simply responded, “Okay.”

  She knew Janice wouldn’t leave it alone. She didn’t. She shot back, “Hel-lo. What was in the package?”

  “Private.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Ur not going to tell me?” Janice’s disbelief came through in the text.

  “No.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  “LOL.” Arden texted. “Not that big of a deal.”

  “Must be.”

  “Not.”

  Arden wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to divulge it to Janice. Maybe she would later…or not.

  She picked up the mottled silk, letting it slide between her fingers. Actually, she knew precisely why she didn’t want to tell.

  She trailed the silk tip against her collarbone and down until it teased against the top of her breast and then into the valley of her cleavage.

  Arden found it sexy and erotic. Janice wouldn’t. She’d make some snarky comment. That would screw with the turn-on Arden had right now. Janice might be a little pissed…or a lot pissed…but she’d get over it…or not.

  Another text dinged in and Arden ignored it. She wasn’t going round and round with Janice ad nauseum…and it would if she allowed it. They’d been friends long enough that she knew that. She also knew it took two people to argue. If she didn’t answer Janice’s text, there was nowhere else for Janice to take it.

  Arden noticed there was no price tag. The faint aroma of men’s cologne clung to the fabric. The scent took her back to the room, to him. He hadn’t drowned himself in cologne, but with the blindfold, her other senses had been heightened. She definitely remembered his scent, his touch, his taste, the sound of his voice.

  Sending her one of his personal ties to wear was incredibly arousing. His tie, undies, and a pair of heels. She swiveled around in her chair, facing the window, her back to the door.

  Moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, Arden edged the hem of her skirt up to her thighs. Eyes closed, she teased the tip of the tie over her legs, up the inside of her thigh until it dragged lightly over her panties. She imagined him watching her. She was so wet. She reached between her thighs with her free hand and tugged aside the damp material. Cool air rushed against her wet heat. Spreading her legs even wider apart, opening herself up more, she dangled the tip of silk against her pussy, the scent of his cologne mingling with her musk. The silk flitted against her clit and she tensed. Oh….

  Her office phone buzzed, yanking her back to where she was and what she was doing—or rather shouldn’t be doing—in her office. She tugged her panties and skirt back into place and swung around in her chair, reaching for the phone, the tie still in her right hand, her body aching, his scent between her legs.

  How would she ever manage to wait another three days?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The door lock clicked behind her, echoing in the stillness of the room. Arden looked over the suite. It was as elegant as she remembered it. And she was as nervous as she had been the first time, perhaps even more now.

  Had it only been a week ago? In some respects it seemed like yesterday. But mostly it felt like a lifetime ago. This week had seemed to drag on indefinitely. And she’d resolved that today would be the last time she did this. All week she’d been terribly distracted. She’d found herself drifting off in meetings, on conference calls, reading emails, at traffic lights. All she could think about was having sex with this stranger…while she wore his tie.

  An envelope had been waiting for her at the front desk when she checked in. She opened it now. It contained a single sheet of paper. The handwriting was the same as the note in the tie box.

  Tie. Panties. Heels. Blindfold on the bed.

  She folded the note, returned it to the envelope, and tucked it inside her purse. Her pulse beat a tattoo. She crossed to the bedroom. Undressing quickly, she hastily folded her dress and bra and placed them on the desk top. She pulled the tie out of her purse and knotted it around her neck, leaving it half undone.

  She looked in the mirror. She’d put her hair up. She looked like some fifties pin-up with her chignon, half-tied tie, panties, and heels.

  She felt sexy and alive…and totally…thoroughly turned on. She glanced in the mirror again, seeing herself differently. At one point she would’ve only seen the areas she thought needed improvement, the parts she wished were firmer, flatter, fuller, or tighter. Now, however, she thought the slope of her breasts was sexy, her nipples already budding to ripe points. Her hips flared out from a bit of a muffin top, but now it just looked womanly rather than fat. The faint dimpling of her thighs certainly hadn’t been off-putting to him before so they didn’t bother her now, the way they had once upon a time.

  She walked to the bed, the slick wet arousal between her legs increasing with each step, with the sway of her breasts, the scent of his cologne clinging to the tie against her skin.

  Arden picked up the black satin blindfold from the snowy white pillow. She turned the covers down and sank onto the edge of the mattress. The linens were buttery soft against her buttocks and the back of her thighs.

  Her breathing stretched against the background of silence. Finally, she heard the slide of the card in the lock and the door opened. Her breath caught, and she curled her fingers against the mattress. She reminded herself to breath. She wouldn’t be having phenomenal sex if she passed out, now would she?

  The door closed, the lock clicking into place.

  He spoke. “What are you wearing?”

  “What you instructed.”

  “Tell me.” His tone was soft, velvety, but autocratic nonetheless. In the “real” world she might’ve resented his dictating to her, his not asking her what she wanted. But last time she’d got what she wanted, and this wasn’t the “real” world. This had become stepping through the looking glass into fantasy.

  “Black heels, panties, your tie, and the blindfold.”

  “Very good. Stand up.”

  “How do you know I’m not already?”

  He laughed, a low, husky laugh that slid over her skin like a caress and further tightened her nipples. “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “Stand up.”

  His footsteps rang against the tile floor. She stood. She felt his energy and smelled his cologne. He stopped in the doorway.

  There was a long pause and it took everything within her to simply stand there, practically naked, while he looked at her. Even blindfolded, she felt the heat of his gaze on her.

  “Beautiful,” he said, finally, his voice carrying a husky note. “Are you aroused?”

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “Very much. Touch your breasts the way you like for them to be touched.”

  She cupped them in her palms. They felt heavy and full and a sensual lethargy flowed through her. She lifted them, squeezing and pushing them together. Rolling her nipples between her forefingers and thumbs, she applied just enough pressure to send sensation arrowing through her. Emboldened by the mask and anonymity and her own level of arousal, she bent her head and tugged one breast up far enough to swirl the wet tip of her tongue over her nipple.

  “Oh,” he choked out. Good. He didn’t sound nearly as in control of himself now. She wanted him as hot for her as she was for him.

  She licked her other nipple and caught it between her teeth. She was glad she’d skipped those implants she’d considered. She had enough “play” in her tits that she could lift and move them around.

  She took the tip of the tie he’d sent and teased it against her turgid point. The hiss of his indrawn breath echoed around the room. She caught her lip between her teeth, it
felt so good.

  “You’re wet?”

  Her laugh came out husky, throaty. “Yes.”

  “Take off your panties and show me.”

  She slipped her thumbs beneath the edge of her undies and slid them down over her thighs, wriggling a little and then dropping them to the floor. If he wanted a show, she’d give him a show. Keeping her legs together, she sat on the bed’s edge. She slowly dropped her knees apart, the room’s cool air kissing her slick, wet pussy, further arousing her.

  “Touch yourself.”

  Leaning back on one elbow, she stroked her engorged vulva. Her juices drenched her fingers.

  “Coat your breasts and nipples. Do that for me.”

  “I can do that for you.” She slowly smeared her arousal over the round smoothness of her left breast then dipped her fingers between her thighs again. Doing what he asked ratcheted up her excitement. Again and again she dragged her fingers against her pussy and coated her breasts and nipples.

  He remained quiet, but she felt him watching, felt his heat, heard his breathing. Finally, he spoke. “Enough.”

  She didn’t ask and didn’t wait for him to tell her. She brought her fingers to her lips and slowly, deliberately licked her coated fingers.

  His tension was a near-palpable thing. The air swirled around them, between them, thick and rich with sensuality, their sexuality.

  “How do you taste?” he said.

  “Hmmm.” She’d never felt so sexy and alluring. The power of her femininity was exhilarating. “There’s one way to find out.”

  She felt him even before he placed his hands on her upper arms. His touch seemed to trail fire. His scent, the combination of his cologne and his unique smell, combined with his touch rendered her drunk with desire.

  He drew her to her feet and turned her to face the bed. He sat on the mattress edge. His trousers brushed against her bare skin as he pulled her between his legs.

  She stood still before him, blindfolded, quivering with excitement. His warm breath danced across her bare breasts. Anticipation tightened her body. He swiped his tongue around her nipple, and her legs threatened to buckle. Instinctively, she clutched his shoulders.