Sweet Seduction

by Anthology

  So when Marcie told me that it was time to turn over I complied, but I stopped her when she lifted the sheet to cover my exposed torso.

  “It’s okay. If it will help you give a better massage… I don’t mind leaving it down.” I held my breath as the word left my mouth, hoping that I hadn’t misinterpreted the earlier perusal that she’d given my breasts. And that Jake had put down his damn cell phone.

  I looked up at Marcie, propping myself up on my elbows to take in her expression. Those cerulean eyes in that perfect, tanned face widened at my bold move, then darkened with… oh, man. With definite lust. And instead of feeling like running away, I found myself responding. Not like, I wanted to have sex with her responding, but a definite sexual tug. An acknowledgement that I enjoyed her touch. And finally I understood.

  She was here because Jake had told her to be. She was an extension of his will—of him. Any pleasure I found from her hands, came from Jake.

  The realization was fucking hot.

  I moaned a bit as she gently urged me back down. I didn’t look back at Jake as I did. I didn’t dare. If he wasn’t looking by now, then this was a lost cause. I’d bared myself, literally, and I couldn’t go any further.

  I was just going to enjoy the ride.

  Moving so that she stood by my head, Marcie placed just the lightest of touches on my temples. Stroking downward with feather-like movements of her fingers, she caressed my jaw, manipulated the skin and muscles of my neck and shoulders, and then moved further down.

  When her hands brushed the sides of my breasts, lifted them and worked the muscles underneath, I felt an answering rush of liquid between my legs. My breath came more quickly, and I closed my eyes to better enjoy the feeling.

  The enjoyment of arousal, of attraction to Jake that I’d suppressed for so long.

  Both lax with relaxation and taut with sexual tension, I floated in a dense cloud of bliss as Marcie worked the areas around and under my bare breasts, my naked belly, my hips. I could hear Jake’s breath from behind my head, but still didn’t know if he was watching. Couldn’t see if he’d moved any closer, or if his head was still buried in that damned book.

  I wanted, more than anything, for him to look.

  “There.” With a brush of those hands over nipples that were painfully hard, a brush I’m sure wasn’t accidental, Marcie straightened. Stepped back. “How do you feel?”

  A bit dazed, more than a bit disoriented by the abrupt sensory deprivation, I opened my eyes, blinked a bit. Sat up slowly. Marcie pressed a cup of icy water into my hand. The cool glass was slick with condensation.

  Before sipping, I turned my head, just a bit.

  Jake was still looking at his phone. Though his cheeks were flushed, which they very well could have been just from being on the hill all day, he showed no sign of having been aware of anything that had just happened.

  I almost dropped the water glass as a thick, sludge-like stew of emotions undulated its way through my gut.

  He really didn’t care about me as anything more than a friend. Really didn’t see me as anything more than one of the guys. I’d had no idea before now that either mattered to me, but as I fought back a sudden bitter sting of tears I realized that, though sudden, my feelings were very, very real.

  The realization devastated me.

  I gathered the sheet that I’d so brazenly refused a few minutes earlier around me toga style, as tightly as it would go.

  “Thank… thank you.” I tried to smile at the poor woman caught in the midst of my emotional maelstrom. “I really appreciate it.”

  She smiled back, a smile tinged the warm blue of sympathy. She wasn’t immune to the feelings that were blanketing the air. And I didn’t miss the narrow eyed look that she shot Jake’s one, one that made me suddenly understand that they weren’t strangers.

  “You can keep the sheet for now.” Placing a hand on my knee in a way that was completely comforting and entirely non-sexual, she continued. “Just stick it in with the towels for housekeeping.”

  I tried to curve my lips. I suspect the result was kinda scary. “I think I’m going to go for a shower.” This announcement was more for Jake than for Marcie.

  “Okay.” His voice was tight, but he still didn’t look up from his phone. Eyes threatening to overflow, I caught Marcie’s eye.

  And man, I owed that woman. She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively as she overtly checked me out, which had the intended effect of making me laugh, at least a bit. As I slid to the side of the table, sheet clutched tightly to my breasts, she caught a finger in the knot of the cotton and tugged me closer, whispering into my ear.

  “Cut him some slack. Trust me. He’s different with you. And if you decide to switch teams, you just let me know, anytime.” And that, I decided, was not just an attempt to make me feel better, though it did, a bit.

  I wasn’t planning to take her up on her offer, though.

  With another murmured thanks, I slipped off the massage table and into the bathroom, studiously avoiding looking at Jake. As I let the oil stained sheet drop and shoved aside the vinyl shower curtain, it occurred to me that I probably should have tipped Marcie. But considering what had just transpired, though really I guess it hadn’t been that much, the thought of giving her money felt kind of dirty.

  As the hot water began to rinse away the fragrant massage oil, I decided to let Jake handle it.

  The asshole.

  I called him all kinds of names, in my head of course, as I soaped away the oil residue and the experience. I needed to get it all out, to let the wet of the shower wash it away and carry it down the drain.

  I couldn’t exactly be upset with him out loud, not without sounding like a crazy person. Jake had invited me on this weekend as friends. We’d skied together today as friends, and after I got out of the shower we’d go eat the same way, just as we’d done I didn’t even know how many times over the last decade.

  He could hardly be blamed for my inexplicable reaction to the massage. The poor guy had been trying to do something nice, for heaven’s sake.

  And yet I did blame him, at least a bit, even knowing that I really didn’t have any grounds for anger.

  A knock at the door startled me out of my reverie. I didn’t reply, because I knew he’d just stick his head in to say what he needed to say, or do what he needed to do.

  But he didn’t. Instead he knocked again, a bit more tentatively this time.

  “What’s up?” I called out as I shrugged the weirdness off.

  Another hesitation, then the door cracked open. Again though, instead of just barging in and making perverted jokes, he stuck just his head into the room, and that only barely.

  “Dinner’s here. I, ah, ordered room service, in case you were too tired to go downstairs.”

  “Oh.” I was at a bit of a loss for words, for several reasons. One, this was way too thoughtful a gesture to have come from Jake. Two, I don’t know how he convinced someone from the pub downstairs to bring up food, because while this establishment had a few amenities—and I do mean a few—I was pretty sure that room service wasn’t among them. Well, I supposed that the kind of cash he had made all sorts of impossible things happen.

  But there was still the matter of number three… how was he going to collect his bevvy of ‘bunnies’ from up here in the room?

  In other words, how was he going to get laid? Since I so clearly did nothing for him?

  The thought made me cringe, but I forced a pleased smile onto my face instead, hoping he’d hear it in my voice.

  “Awesome. I’ll be out in a sec.” The door clicked shut almost before I’d finished speaking, and I scowled as I turned off the water and yanked the shower curtain back, nearly ripping it off of its rings.

  I had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

  Still frowning, I took my sweet time combing the licorice snarls of my hair and rubbing cream into my wind-burnt face. It wasn’t until I’d finished that that I realized the only item of clothi
ng I had in the bathroom with me was the pair of blue panties I’d been wearing when I came in.

  Damn it.

  The thought of going outside the bathroom clad in only a shrunken towel gave me heart palpitations, even though I’d pretty much just waved my naked breasts in his face during the massage. God, what was wrong with me? It would be fine. Though I’d apparently lost all capability for rational thought, as far as Jake was concerned, everything was normal, as far as he was concerned.

  He wouldn’t think twice about me in just a towel, a fact I’d proven conclusively with the whole massage debacle.

  Get a grip, Liz. I mentally berated myself as I wrapped the towel as tightly as I could around my breasts and, with a deep breath, opened the door.

  The scene that greeted me was so startling I nearly let the towel fall to the floor again.

  The candles that Marcie had lit during the massage were still burning, casting intriguing shadows on the walls and hiding the tackiness of the cheap bedspreads. Their scent thickened the air, sweet citrus nearly overriding the smell of mouth-watering food, which was waiting on a rolling table, steam curling sinuously upwards.

  And there by the table in the dimly lit room was Jake, pouring a golden stream of pale ale into a long stemmed wineglass.

  W. T. F.

  JAKE

  Watching the exchange between Marcie and Liz told me that I’d hurt Liz’s feelings but good by not taking what she’d enticingly offered when she’d shown me a sight I’d been dreaming of, cock in hand, for the last seven years.

  It had pained me, physically pained me, not to push Marcie out of the room, bend Liz over the table, and take her right then and there.

  That was what I might have done with any other woman. Hell, with other women I probably would have invited Marcie to stay. But she had only been here to help get Liz relaxed, maybe to get her in a romantic, sensual frame of mind.

  But Elizabeth Michaels was not the kind of girl that you just bent over a massage table. At least, I though wickedly to myself, not until after I made my intentions known.

  Liz was the only woman for me, and always had been. And no matter how much it was killing me to look at her right now, body still dripping wet from her shower, the sweet surprise on her face making her look more fuckable than she ever had before…

  She had to understand first—had to know what being mine would mean. Because I knew that once I’d possessed her utterly, once I’d marked her, and she me, there was no going back. I’d give her a ring and my collar.

  We’d belong to each other.

  And if that wasn’t what she wanted—if she was only interested in relieving the sexual tension that had simmered between us for years—then we weren’t going to do anything at all.

  We were worth more than that. Together, we were worth everything.

  “What is this?” Seeming to forget that she was wearing nothing but a towel, even though I sure as hell couldn’t, Liz edged into the room, her expression wary and confused. Wary… but not like she wanted to get out of there.

  My confidence, always in abundant supply with other women, rose. I didn’t mind sending her off balance. It meant that I could affect her that way.

  “Do you like it?” The sadistic part of me liked drawing the torture out, just a bit. Even though my heart was still pounding in my chest over the importance of this all, I was still pretty confident that this was going to turn out the way it was meant. Because of that, I didn’t mind making her suffer just a little bit, for all the years she’d made me wait.

  “I… might like it. If I knew what it was, exactly.” Clutching the rough terrycloth closer to her breasts, she stalked flat-footed across the room to her suitcase and grabbing the first thing that came to her hand, which in this case was a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a holey cotton T-shirt.

  Rising from the bed, I moved quietly to stand in front of the bathroom, so that when she turned to scurry back to into it to change, I was right there.

  “Oh!” She jumped, startled to see me there. I just smiled, invading her space on purpose.

  This was what I did anytime I was with a new submissive—tried to throw them off their game, a little bit. Urging them out of their comfort zone, to the point where they were no longer in control.

  I wasn’t going to throw everything at her tonight—no hard limits, no floggings, no safe word. No would just mean no.

  But she had to understand that to be with me, when it came to sex, she would be handing the reins over to me. She would trust me with her pleasure.

  And in return, we would both find everything we’d ever wanted.

  LIZ

  Maybe Jake hadn’t been as immune to my little show as I’d thought. Here he was, after all, blocking my way back into the bathroom—back to my clothes—with a decidedly predatory gleam in his eyes.

  It made my heart skip a beat, that gleam. He was right up in my space, and I was rapidly starting to understand that he had something up his sleeve—something that went far beyond our usual camaraderie.

  What, though? No idea.

  I frowned as he pressed a glacial glass of what seemed to be beer into my hand. “What’s this?”

  “Your before dinner drink.” I refused to be charmed by his familiar grin. After all, he hadn’t even had the decency to try to look down the front of my towel.

  I also didn’t have a reply for that, so I took the beer back to the bathroom with me, daring to roll a curious swallow over my tongue before hastily tugging dry clothes over wet skin.

  If Jake found it odd that I’d retreated to dress, he kept it to himself.

  When I emerged again, with the tastes of both tangy brew and puzzlement on my tongue, I found Jake standing beside the ugly bed, a bright orange rose in his hand.

  “Happy birthday, Liz.” He extended the flower to me. It was the bright tangerine orange of a sunrise, my favorite flower. I’d never known Jake to give a woman a flower before. Never, not once in over seven years.

  It was all making my head hurt.

  If he was just interested in sex, this wasn’t the way I’d ever imagined him going about it. Jake and his surplus of testosterone? I’d always pictured him as the ultimate alpha male, taking charge and, you know, taking.

  Maybe even punishing a girl if she was bad.

  Romance? Not in his repertoire. At least, not that I’d even imagined. This made it hard to believe that that was what this was.

  “Okay, what gives, dude?” The suspense and suspicion were killing me, and yet I couldn’t resist sniffing the bloom, just once before setting it on the bed.

  When I raised my head he was there, right there in front of me. I stood frozen, even as my mind raced, as he fitted his body almost to mine. Mirror images with only a heated inch between us, I was sure that he was about to kiss me, and like that mirror image, I knew I’d do nothing to stop him.

  I’d known him forever, and I’d known from the start that he was hard to resist.

  I didn’t want to be just another woman in his bed, but I didn’t want to resist anymore, either. Now that I’d allowed these feelings to surface, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to push them back down.

  Every breath he moved closer felt huge, a burning wire drawing taut between us. Warm breath scented with spicy mint tickled my nose, fanned out over my face, and my own pink tongue darted out from between my steam-swollen lips, wetting them, readying them.

  I felt like a mouse, cornered by a big cat. Anticipation, nerves, desire that I’d never felt quite so strongly with anyone else took me over.

  All I wanted was him. I lifted my chin, heart pounding as I waited for his lips to claim my own in a kiss that had been so, so long coming…

  The sudden absence of that heat, that delicious breath as he pulled back felt like ice.

  “Let’s eat.” Jake’s voice held a decided edge of amusement as he pulled away. I blinked, stunned and silent, as he seated himself cross legged on the bed, pulling the tray close. He gestured for me to sit
as well.

  Knees shaking from the abrupt change, I was only too glad to do so, and without a question. Well, without spoken question, because I had enough queries rumbling around in my brain to make extra strength Advil sound really good.

  Had I mistaken that whole scenario? Imagined it? Wishful thinking?

  Gone absolutely crazy?

  Hard as it was, I shook my head vigorously. Tried to loosen the sticky cobwebs clinging to the dusty corners of my mind.

  I thought I saw a minute curve to Jake’s lips as I did so—just the tiniest of smiles—but I didn’t care. I needed to rid myself of these thoughts, these feelings, whatever they were and wherever they’d come from.

  Jake was my best friend, and he had been for a very long time. Doing something unexpected and nice for me on my birthday did not in any way mean that he wanted to jump my bones.

  I wasn’t sure why that caused a trickle of disappointment to seep into my blood.

  Urgh. Whatever. Mustering up a grin, I gestured to the tray, grabbed my glass of beer. “Thanks for ordering, dude. What’s for supper?” Gulping at my drink, I lifted a lid from a dish, expecting to find a burger, or maybe fish and chips.

  No dice. Instead of pub grub, which is what I knew for a fact was all that this grimy motel offered, I found a milky white plate striped with indigo caviar, vermillion jam, and creamy cheese.

  “Uh…” I wasn’t feeling sure enough of myself to make one of my usual smart-ass remarks about the fancy, dainty display. I gulped once, hard, and forced myself to meet those indescribable eyes. “Looks… uh…”

  “Try this.” A fork I hadn’t seen him pick up swirled through the cheese, then the fruit. Made its way to my lips. Salt and sweet spread richly over my tongue, and I swallowed before again raising my glass to hide my discomfort.

  Jake kept on staring. Thinking he expected me to comment, I did. “It’s good.” And it was, but the remark didn’t seem to appease him.

  “What?” I combed a hand self-consciously through my wet hair. “Do I have something on my face?”