by Raven Gale
I decide to lay down before I implement the plan of attack I came up with today. Laying back, I smile, thinking she doesn't have a chance.
Chapter 4
I stomp through the lobby, irritated that he had taken over my mind for most of the day. Pieces of art painted by the masters and they all made me think of his tattoos, making me wonder how much more of his body was covered in colorful ink. I had tossed and turned half the night thinking about the damn man. I take the stairs and stomp up every single one, my hand clenched and my dark brows drawn down tight. I'm sure I look like a surly bitch, and honestly, today I am. I fling myself down on the bed, kicking off my shoes before curling on my side. Infernal man. I lay there sulking for an hour before rising and running a tub full of hot water, hoping it will relax me. I'm just sitting down in the water when my phone rings. I look at it and see that it is Valerie, my best friend. I pick it up, smiling. We talk about the trip and the art for quite a while until she says what I've been dreading.
"Sooo... Who is he?"
I grit my teeth before answering. I know what she's going to tell me. "His name is Carter, he some kind of ex-military security guy, and I'm in no way going to try to talk to him again."
"WHY! You are in Paris, the city of love," she yells at me.
"This guy is not looking for love."
"So what? Sleep with him, maybe have a night of mind-blowing sex, and then forget him. A wild fling in Paris. Sounds amazing."
"This coming from the girl who is happily married to the love of her life," I grumble.
"Yes, but you know exactly how many one night stands I had before I met him. Besides, let me live vicariously through you. I want all the details. You go find this man and rock his world."
I can't help but laugh. I'm not going to, but I'll play along for a little bit. We talk a few minutes more, and then I hang up. Images of mind-blowing sex immediately start playing through my mind. I have a very good imagination.
I might be telling myself that I have no plans to speak to the man again, but my clothes are saying something completely different. I stare in the mirror, critically assessing myself. I'm tall and curvy. I was blessed with an hourglass figure. I'm not tiny, but my waist is smaller than my hips and boobs. I learned a long time ago how to dress to show off my best assets. Tonight I chose a dress with a neckline that dips low and fitted waist, the material flaring out at my hips. It is a retro style, and I wear cute, vintage style shoes with a short heel to complete the look. I have stockings on underneath, and I can't help but imagine his hand sliding up my leg and the look on his face when he reaches the lace top before touching my bare skin. I draw a deep breath before reaching for my lipstick, my favorite shade of dark pink, and I love how the color looks on me. I glide on two layers before smiling into the mirror. Time for dinner and drinks, and so what if I might run into Mr. Stirling.
I grab my clutch and head up to the bar. I had eaten at a couple of places around the city today, so I don't have to worry about eating here at the hotel again. I have plenty of material for my blog. By the time the elevator stops, I'm jittery. As the doors slide open, I take a few deep breaths, hoping to calm my nerves. He probably won't even be here tonight.
I push open the doors and step out onto the rooftop and pause, my eyes scanning the entire area. My breath catches as green eyes lock with my blue ones. He has on a crispy white dress shirt that is unbuttoned, and the vivid colors of his tattoos stand out against the starkness of the pale color. He has his sleeves rolled up some, and I can now tell he has tattoos down both arms. I drag my gaze back up to his face, and he is smiling. I glance around and notice a few people are watching and I realize it is most likely because I am frozen in place. I force myself forward to the bar.
"Ember." Just my name and I feel it throughout my body.
"Carter, so nice to run into you again." I somehow manage to keep my voice level, to hopefully hide my arousal.
"Would you care to eat with me tonight? I got here a little while ago, but I haven't eaten." He has a drink in his hand.
"I'd love to. Eating alone is one of the hazards of my job. Although I often try to find other lonely singles and eat with them. My favorite is older people. I always like to listen to their stories while we eat." I smile at him.
"That sounds nice." He turns and asks the bartender for a table, and we stand in silence waiting for a waiter. He is close, his body almost touching mine, and I find myself leaning toward him, craving the heat I felt last night. He glances at me as we follow the waiter to our table.
Chapter 5
I can smell her perfume, and it is a heady scent, one that makes promises. She looks fucking delicious, and I'm fighting not to stare. I drank her in as she stood in the entrance doing the same to me. I wonder if her night was as restless as mine. I glance down at her and see longing stamped on her face. The longing I can work with.
Normally, I don't do this. Don't get me wrong, I often find a willing woman when I travel, but it is quick and done. Scratch the itch and then get back to work. Something about this woman is pulling me in. She has me curious about her. I wondered all day if she might match my tastes.
The waiter pulls her chair out, and she slides in. I feel a little jealous of the smile she graces him with. I sit across from her, and it only takes a moment before she is looking at me again. Interest and heat linger in her eyes.
I let her order the food, and she grins. I don't care what I eat right now as long as it gets me what I want in the end. She has no idea. I suppose that might make me sound like a dick. But I just want her and if it is only for a few days in this city before we both get back to our lives, then so be it. I study her, and I know this isn't something she does; her nerves are showing through but so is her desire. The desire I plan to stoke throughout dinner. We talk about our day while we wait for our food. Her face lights up when she talks about the art she saw, and every so often as she talks about the colors, her eyes stray to my arms. So she likes the ink. Good because I have a lot of it. I test a theory and adjust my collar, and her eyes go unfocused slightly as they travel over the intricate pattern that peeks out at my collarbone.
I watch her as she savors her food, wishing it was me she was moaning over. I don't think she even realizes that she is making the little noises of pleasure. I feel each little noise as if it is a caress over my body. She lays her fork down and leans forward, resting her arms on the table as she talks more about walking around Paris.
"Oh God, just listen to me rambling on and on. I haven't even asked how your day was. Did your business work out?"
I almost missed her question I was so focused on her pink nails, the color reminding me of bubblegum. I look back up at her face. A part of me is excited by her seemingly innocent demeanor; the dark part of me wants to corrupt that innocence. I reach out and cover her hands with my own, running my thumbs over her palms. Her breath catches, and I lock eyes with her. I let go of one hand before pulling the other to me. I bring her knuckles to my lips and rub them across my lips, drawing in the scent of her skin. I watch her as she shivers. Her eyes flare with desire, turning a brighter blue. I kiss her fingers, fighting the urge to draw them into my mouth before I place her hand back on the table and begin to tell her a little bit about my day.
We finish our food and sit waiting for dessert. Fuck, let it be what she had last night. She keeps looking out at the city, a breeze blowing some of her hair loose. I reach across and tuck it back behind her ear, my finger lingering on her neck. Her hand slowly comes up to mine and grabs it. She doesn't move my hand; instead, she pushes it flat against her skin. She doesn't look at me, but I can feel her pulse pounding under my palm. We sit like this for what seems like hours but is really only moments until our dessert arrives. I've never looked at food as foreplay, but damn, watching and hearing her enjoy her food certainly is. Tonight they have brought her chocolate cake, and I imagine tasting it on her tongue.
I adjust myself, and when I look up, she has a look on her face.
One that says she likes the effect she is having on me. I have her creme brulee from last night in front of me, and even as she licks the chocolate from her fork, her eyes are looking at it. I scoop a small amount in my spoon and hold it out to her lips. She swallows, and I watch as her tongue runs over her lips as she looks into my eyes. She pauses, and I watch as she makes some decision. The next instant she leans forward and curls her tongue around my spoon, eyes focused on me. I'm surprised when I feel her foot slide slowly up my shin, not too high, nothing like in movies, but her foot ends up on my knee, and my free hand travels under the table and grips her calf. I revel in the feeling of the silk that encases her legs.
Chapter 6
My heart is pounding, and I feel seductive as his hand closes around my leg. I wonder what he thinks of my bold move.
"I don't do things like this." I blurt out softly.
"Like what? Eat dinner, enjoy your food, or try to seduce a man you don't know?" His voice is husky, his body is tense.
"The last. I mean, I'm no virgin, and I've had one night stands..." I'm rambling, and I need to shut up. "I just ... Well, my best friend really. She said 'you're in Paris, go for it,' so I mean, I wasn't sure if I'd even see you again. So I hadn't really thought about what I would do but now that I have." I stop and giggle, my nerves getting the best of me.
"I like that you don't do this all the time. I don't care if you're a virgin. Fuck, I'd be surprised if you were. And we only have to do what you want." His voice has lowered, and his hand is massaging my calf. I sigh, looking back out at the city trying to relax. I feel his fingers on my cheek and turn to look back at him. "What do you want, Ember?"
What do I want? I want to be taken over. I want to lose myself in the hunger I see in him and feel in myself. I want for him to show me the things I've been missing out on. I look at him and think of what he could represent. A night or two of freedom. A chance to be someone else. I grew up in a small town where everyone knows everyone else's business. That means all your business, and so I was good. I smile a tiny smile, the edges of my lips barely curving. I want him, and I don't even know what that means exactly. I'm no prude. I've seen movies and read books that would shock some people, but I've never lived it. Now I have the chance. I run my eyes over his arms as he waits for my reply. Surely he can show me some of the things I've imagined over the years. I know what I want.
I want to be bad. But can I ask for that?
"I want..." I swallow and lick my lips. "I want to lose myself in you." It is a whisper, but it is the only way I can get it out. A growl works its way out of his throat, and his hand shoots into the air.
"Put it on my room." His voice is thick with lust as he rises and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. The waiter has a knowing look on his face but says nothing as Carter practically drags me out of the bar.
We barely make into the elevator before his hands are on me. We both feel desperate. My hands grab the rail trying to steady myself as he devours my mouth. I taste the whiskey on his tongue as it caresses along mine. His hands are hot on the sides of my neck, his thumbs sliding over my jaw as he turns my head to deepen the kiss. I can't catch my breath, and I don't care.
One of his hands slides down my side, tickling along my ribs and going lower until it clenches in my skirt, pulling it up some, just enough to reach my leg. I bend my knee, wrapping my foot around his leg, allowing him greater access to my leg. His hand glides over the silk of my stocking, and my heart pounds harder as he reaches the lace edge and the garter that is holding it in place. He abruptly breaks the kiss and peers down into my eyes, which I am sure are unfocused and dazed. I can't think. I hear his voice, but my mind can't make out the words.
"What?" I mumble as I bring my fingers to my swollen lips.
"Did you wear these in case you saw me?" His finger is running under the garter, his nail softly scratching my thigh. I am about to answer when the elevator dings and he grabs my hand, letting my leg fall to the floor, and drags me from the elevator. I'm panting and stumbling after him. In seconds, we stop in front of a door, and he looks at me with lust and amusement on his face.
"Ember. The key."
I blink and then giggle, "Oh, yeah, my room. Okay." I fumble in my clutch, bring out the card and slide it into the slot, pushing the door open. I walk in, trying to gather my wits and catch my breath. I had left a lamp on, and the room is bathed in soft light. I jump as the door closes behind me and I hear the fabric of his clothes as he moves closer. I walk slowly away, crossing the room before I stop and turn, looking at him. His face is positively savage, and for one moment, I wonder if this is a good idea. My panic must have shown on my face.
Chapter 7
Ember stands frozen. I can see her chest heaving, but I also see the sudden fear on her face. I know it isn't fear of me... Exactly. I stop my forward movement and try to rein in my needs.
"We will only do what you want. If you want to stop, then we will. You are in control here." Even I hear the lust in my tone. Her eyes widen at my words, and she swallows. I start to move toward her again, and she straightens. Her mind is made up.
"I don't have a lot of experience. I have read a lot of books." She grins.
"Have you read something you might be interested in doing?" Please God, let her have read something good.
"I don't know. I mean yes of course but this time, tonight, I just want to forget all the rules. Can you do that, Carter? Make me forget." Her voice makes me pause; it holds longing for something.
I've moved to stand right in front of her, and she looks up at me with her blue eyes flashing with fire and her lips sinfully swollen from my kisses. The look is somewhere between innocent and temptress. I wonder who is seducing whom.
Taking her hand, I lead her to the bed. I figure tonight I better go slow. I turn her to face the bed while I reach and move her caramel colored hair over her shoulder, running the silkiness through my fingers. I reach for the zipper on her dress, but my fingers pause, waiting for her to stop me. When she makes no move, I slowly lower it inch by inch, until it can go no further.
Her breath hitches, and I realize she is waiting for my reaction. My eyes glide over her creamy skin and get stuck on the black straps of lace that cross her back. The dark color only highlights the paleness of her skin. I continue my perusal down over the curve of her waist and to that spot where the back meets ass. I smile (and I'm sure it is feral)at the tiny pink bow that I find there. It is not a girly pink but instead hot, and I fucking love it. I let the fabric of the dress slip from my fingers, and it falls to the floor, puddling around her feet that are still encased in those sweet little heels. My fingers itch to grip her ass tight, squeezing the soft curves in my rough hands. But instead, I thread my fingers through her hair and turn her slowly. For some reason, I expect her to avoid my gaze, but her sapphire eyes heated with lust are locked on mine when I look up at her face. It takes me a moment to reach them, as my eyes get locked on the black and hot pink encasing her pussy, and I can see the moisture has darkened the silk slightly.
My hardened cock throbs and my balls tighten with my need. I run my tongue over the edge of my teeth, trying to imagine the taste of her. Slowly I start to move my eyes away from her pussy. Her breasts are also covered in black and pink lace, and I can see just a hint of her nipple peeking through, hardened under my scrutiny. My fingers drift out and trace the edges of her mounds, and I can feel the pounding of her heart. I meet her eyes and let my hand drift up to her neck, wrapping it around the back. I look at her frozen for a moment before pulling her to me. Our lips are almost touching when I growl, "You're fucking beautiful."
The breath she has been holding is released on a quick sigh before she crashes into me. Her tongue plunges into my opened lips. She moans into me, her tongue licking and stroking mine. Her body arching against me asking for things she won't voice, demanding them.
Chapter 8
I feel the heat of him flood into me, the smokiness of his drink, mixed with his own
unique flavor, has my senses spinning. He takes command of the kiss, and I feel a pressure begin to build in my body. I can't stop my body from pressing tighter against his. His heat pours into me, and I feel my pussy creaming and I swear my panties are soaked. Even I can hear the desperation in my moan as he breaks the kiss, but in an instant, his lips are traveling along my jaw. They move down the column of my neck, and his teeth graze along the tendon, and I shiver with need. His hand glides over my stomach, and I feel it tighten in reflex. His hand is rough with callouses, and I love the feel of them on my heated skin. It slides up over my breast, and his finger caresses the hard bud he finds, softly once before tightening on it gently. His other hand leaves my neck and moves down over my arm, across my hip, and down further along my thigh. It is never still, each slightly roughened stroke firing nerves I had never realized were there, never considered erotic. I'm panting soon. My pussy is clenching in need, and I can't stop moving against him. The feel of his clothes is rough on my skin. His voice cuts through my need-filled haze.
"You never answered my question; did you wear these for me?" His finger runs along the top of the stockings. Who am I to lie? I nod my head slowly.
"Just in case." I manage to whisper. His green eyes darken, and I'm suddenly very glad I had.
His hands leave my skin, and I miss his heat instantly. I watch as his long fingers move to the buttons on his shirt, and I hold my breath. I feel excitement shiver along my body as he slowly reveals the tattoos I've been daydreaming about. I could spend days tracing the intricate designs. I see Celtic knots, military symbols, classic Sailor Jerry-inspired ones and a few quotes. Some are shades of black and others have bright, almost neon colors. My finger itch to run over them, and I look up at him, his face telling me I can and that he likes the idea. His hands have already moved to the waist of his pants though, and my eyes lock on them as they remove his belt and unbutton them. The zipper comes down as I stand frozen. I'm not ashamed of the fact that my mouth is watering as I wait to see his cock. He takes his time, and it feels like forever before the heavy weight of it slips from the parted material. My hands finally move as they reach out and push the material down his legs. Commando. I wonder if he did that for me and I can't help but hide the little grin that curves my lips. He stands waiting and draws a shaky breath as my fingers run along the mushroomed top. A bead of precum glistens in the light, and I lick my lips. His eyes narrow and he pushes me back. My knees hit the edge of the bed, and I'm falling backward, bouncing slightly as I hit the mattress. There is no longer any hint of playfulness in his demeanor. And my entire body tightens with lust at the thought of the beast I'm unleashing.
