by A. C. Arthur
He considered moving closer, putting an arm around her shoulders to offer a little more warmth, but decided against it. Usually he could control himself under any circumstances. He was finding that a little more difficult now. The same woman whose description of giving perfect head had made a mess of his sheets a few short weeks ago had also sat across from him at a poker table just last weekend, wearing a tight sweater and smug smile as she claimed the winning hand.
“You’re not really looking for anything long-term, are you?” He didn’t think she was, or at least she’d never given that impression before.
The Des he knew was selective in the men she dated, private and a bit noncommittal in his estimation. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been anyone serious for her in the time she’d worked for the company.
“Been there, done that.” It was a dry statement, one he sensed held a lot more weight than the flippant way it’d rolled off her tongue.
“And you’re not willing to do it again.” Phrasing it as a statement instead of a question was his way of not prying.
“I’m not willing to be in the situation I was in before. And don’t ask what that was. It’s irrelevant to whatever this is that we’re doing.”
There was the Des he knew so well. The cut-you-off-at-the-knees-when-required woman who also managed to look damn hot while she did it. He chuckled. “Wasn’t gonna ask because I know the tactic well.” No lies or jokes there. Not wanting to repeat a mistake from the past was his mantra. Everything he’d done and said since his sophomore year in college had been based on an occurrence that both rocked his world and forever changed the trajectory of his personal life.
Upon arriving at the restaurant, Maurice opened one of two doors in the same wood that seemed to have been used on every building in this upscale ski village. The host was pleasant and quick to take their coats, then guide them to a cozy booth near a fireplace.
“Thank goodness. I was about to turn into a popsicle out there.” Des rubbed her arms and shivered as she stared happily at the roaring fire.
Easing out of the booth, he removed his sports coat and leaned closer to wrap it around her shoulders. “That dress is serving its purpose of enticing every man who’s lucky enough to see it, but I’m not surprised it isn’t keeping you warm.”
For a second, she looked startled by his action. Then she shrugged, pushed her arms into the much bigger sleeves of his sports coat and wrapped it tightly around her. “Good thing I packed plenty of warmer serviceable clothes than this little black dress.”
Returning to his seat, he mourned the loss of seeing the entrancing cleavage pressed above the top of her dress. A server came offering coffee, tea or hot chocolate, and after taking their drink order he left menus that they read in silence. Minutes later the server returned with a heavy cream-and-sugar coffee for him and green tea for her. They placed their orders—the ribs for him, hearty beef stew and corn bread for her—and settled back to wait for it.
Des broke the silence. “I never would’ve dreamed it was you.” She stared at him over the rim of her mug before placing it back on the table.
He kept his hands around his mug, enjoying the warmth from the liquid inside as it mingled with the heat of arousal currently swirling through his body. “Same. You were the last person I expected.”
“And yet here we are.” She took another sip of her tea.
“Here we are.” Maurice didn’t drink again for fear that the hot coffee mixed with desire burning brighter than the fire a few feet away would be explosive. “Are you nervous?”
This time when she set the mug down, she pulled her arms from the table and let them rest in her lap. “Nervous about what? Having dinner with a man I’ve treated like a brother for five years, or having wild, passionate sex with that man?”
Again, with her instinctual candor. Normally, he wasn’t averse to brash talking, especially when it concerned sex, but coming from Des, he’d have to get used to it. “Well, since we’ve had dinner together plenty of times before, the latter, of course.”
Her tongue eased between her lips, brushing over them in a way he prayed it’d brush over his dick at some point. He sucked in a breath, not even realizing he was holding it until she spoke.
“No. I wouldn’t say nervous. I mean you’re right, we’ve had dinner together before. We’ve shared working lunches and have even spent a good amount of recreational time together. If you count the days during the summer when your parents have cookouts and I sit by the pool watching you and your brothers threaten to toss Riley in.” She held his gaze and took a slow breath. “It makes sense that we address the possibility that we may have sex this weekend.”
“How do you feel about that possibility?” Because he was feeling mighty anxious about eating this meal as quickly as he could and then getting back to the hotel with her.
“I’ve had sex before.” She tried for a casual shrug, but the intense look in her eyes told him this was anything but routine for her. “Of course, I’ve never thought of you in a sexual way.”
“Wow. Okay, well, don’t take any pity on my ego.” He tried to laugh it off, but that stung just a bit.
“Did you not hear the comment about me thinking of you as a brother?” She shook her head. “Tell me you thought of me as a date.”
He couldn’t tell her that. “Touché. I’ve obviously noticed that you’re an attractive woman. I’d have to be blind not to, but yeah, I never really put you in that category.”
“Well, that’s probably a good thing considering how you treat your dates,” she quipped and then looked at him as if she wanted to take back that comment.
There was no need. The truth was the truth. “But now that’s all changed. The way I thought of you before realizing you’d written those emails is long gone.”
Reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she nodded. “Same. Now I can only see you as a man. A very attractive and alluring man.”
His dick took that compliment and throbbed with pride. “A man that you’re considering having sex with this weekend.” A statement and a question all rolled into one.
She hesitated briefly. “A man I’m seriously considering having sex with this weekend.”
CHAPTER THREE
“WHAT’S YOUR ROOM NUMBER?” he asked. After finishing dinner, they’d shared a sort of slow walk—but with a hurried mentality—to get back to the resort.
The subject of sex hadn’t come up again, but it had been there, hovering over them as they discussed the food, the area and any other thing they could think of while at the restaurant. They stepped into the warmth of the resort and crossed the lobby, walking toward the bank of elevators. He’d decided that he wouldn’t ask, guide or try to influence in any way. As he’d told her a while ago, everything had changed. This was no ordinary date for him—he knew that even while his body tried to convince him otherwise. No, tonight, he would let Des lead the show.
“Three twenty-seven.” She stepped onto the elevator and stood toward the back of the car.
He followed her inside, standing as close to her as he possibly could without touching her. “I’m in three thirteen.” Which meant his room was on the same side of the floor as hers, but they would get to his first.
Neither of them spoke for the next few moments, and when the elevator doors opened, he waited for her to step out first. Taking the few steps to the proverbial fork in the hallway, she hesitated a brief moment, before turning to the left and saying, “We’ll go to your room.”
He followed her lead, then let them into his room, taking his time to close and lock the door once they were inside. Watching her walk deeper inside after she’d found the light switch were the strangest few moments of his life. Desta Henner was in his suite, where, just through this sitting area and down a narrow hallway, there was a king-size bed.
“Do you want a drink?” It seemed like a norma
l question to ask as she took off her coat, hat and gloves and laid them on the couch.
“No.” A quick and simple answer spoken succinctly when she turned to look at him. “We don’t have to go through any pretenses. This is what we came here to do.”
He was removing his jacket when her comment stopped him cold. So they were really going to do this? Considering the circumstances—and if he were staring at any other woman but her—he would’ve asked that question aloud. Making sure he and the women he got involved with were of one accord every step of the way was something he was fanatical about. But Des never said anything she didn’t mean.
That’s why he didn’t speak another word. He simply took her hand and walked them back to the bedroom. She released his hand when they were a few steps from the bed and turned her back to him, lifting her hair from her neck in a signal for him to unzip her dress.
Her hair was all black now. A few months ago, it had been frosted with some type of honey color. Why he was thinking about her hair now, he had no idea.
“There’s no going back once we start down this path.” She sounded calm, her voice just a little husky.
“We’ve pretty much started walking the path, anyway. Knowing what I know about you now, even without touching you, is something I’ll never forget.” It was the truth. He’d barely been able to stop staring at her during dinner because the memories of all their late-night messages continued to roll through his mind. Yet, he didn’t reach to unzip her dress.
She loved back rubs that led to kissing down her spine and sex from behind. It was her favorite way to be wakened in the morning. He flexed his fingers and wondered if that’d be the first thing on their personal agenda for tomorrow.
“You’re right.” She took a deep breath and released it. There was nothing about her stance that said she was nervous, and she’d already admitted she wasn’t but turned to face him. He kept his gaze focused on her, a light coat of the pink lip gloss she wore was still visible on her pert lips. “Then, we should discuss safety.”
Des would want a full safety discussion first. She wouldn’t wait and remind him to put the condom on moments before he entered her. He almost grinned at the fact he’d already known that about her. “My last physical was six months ago in May. Clean bill of health.”
Lifting her hands as she spoke, she pushed them through her hair, which fell in waves to her shoulders. “My last physical was in January. I’m clean, too.”
A hush fell over the room. “It doesn’t have to be tonight. We can just chill for a while and get started with the workshops in the morning. There’s no rush,” he said.
She sighed. “This shouldn’t be difficult. It’s what we both planned when we decided to come up here. We were anticipating it. Your last message even said...” Pausing, she looked at him and then toward the window.
He closed the distance between them and cupped his hands on both sides of her neck. “I said I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you. To feel your soft skin beneath my fingertips and my tongue.”
The pressure of her leaning into him was the best feeling, and his body immediately reacted.
“And I replied I couldn’t wait to feel you deep inside me. I wanted my legs wrapped around your waist and your thick length pumping hard in and out of me.” Her voice had grown husky as she said those words, like she was transitioning from the woman standing before him into the woman who’d written all those erotic emails. Arousal pumped through his veins at the sound.
As if anticipating his reaction, she moved her hands between their bodies, wrapping his dick in a layer of warmth.
“Thick and long,” she whispered. “That’s what I wrote, even though I’d never seen it before. I knew you’d be thick and long.” She was pleased; he could tell by the tone of her voice and the way she cradled him in her hands as if he were a prized possession.
“And hard as steel for you.” If his throat felt raspy with those words, it was fine because his dick felt fuckin’ fantastic in her hands. His mind was overwhelmed by the perfection of this moment.
Her eyes closed and opened slowly again. “It is.” That beguiling tongue of hers made another appearance, sliding sinuously over her lips, and the urge to have her turned to frantic need.
Dipping his head, he touched her tongue for a moment before sucking it into his mouth. She moaned, her fingers tightening over his erection, her breasts pressing into his chest. Had he told her they could wait for this? He had, but it had been a lie. He’d waited three months for this. Dreaming of her each night after reading her messages, wondering how every act she described would feel, how she would fit beneath him, over him, around him. There was no question that he wanted her...now.
Hungry didn’t quite describe this kiss. Greedy might be more like it as he took a deep dive, thrusting his tongue against hers now, tilting his head one way while hers went the other until they were both gasping for air. His hands moved from her neck down to her shoulders, which he gripped before turning her around so that her back was now facing the bed.
She unzipped his pants, hurriedly pushing her hand inside the slit of his boxers until she was skin-to-skin with his rock-hard length. He sucked in a breath, and she took that moment to pull her mouth away from his just enough so she could look down at what she now held.
“Delicious.” The word tumbled from her mouth, and his dick jumped in her hand. “That’s the first thought that came to mind. You look delicious.”
Her fingers were steadily stroking him, her thumb and forefinger rolling over the sensitive slit in his tip. The words were like honey gliding over his ego, but nothing surpassed the warm touch of her fingers along his dick.
“Look, touch...do what you want.” It was permission and begging all rolled into one, and he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t taking it back. Whatever she wanted to do to him at this moment he was certain he’d love. In fact, he might explode if she didn’t do something, anything more to bring him pleasure.
“Do you remember the night I wrote about the art of giving good head?”
For the love of every deity ever prayed to, of course he recalled that conversation. He may or may not have printed it out and framed it for future reference.
“Yeah, I remember.” Strained words coming from him weren’t the norm, but there was nothing normal about this social-media meetup, nothing at all.
“I said the first step was to adore the dick. If there’s no adoration, there can be no pleasure.”
He clenched his teeth, adoring every damn word that was coming out of her mouth as she began to lower herself in front of him. Closing his eyes, Maurice bit back a curse of pleasure, deciding complete concentration was needed to keep from coming in her hands in the next few seconds. He opened them again when she was on her knees. She unbuttoned his pants and was now pushing them, along with his boxers, down his thighs.
“I like a long, thick, heavy dick. The way it feels in my hands and the way it looks like it’s barely holding back every second I’m near it.” And she was certainly near it. She’d moved her head closer, until the warmth of her breath whispered over his vulnerable skin each time she spoke. “I like yours very much.”
If he never received another compliment, Maurice would be fine with this one emblazoned on his brain. Snapping out of the blissful trance, he pushed his fingers through her hair again, this time grasping tightly so he could tilt her face up and look into her eyes.
“There’s no pressure here.” He felt the need to reiterate this fact. Part of his policy on being clear about the ground rules. There hadn’t been too many misunderstandings with women before, and he highly doubted Des would be one of them. Still, old habits died hard. He loosened his grip on her hair. “None at all. We can just spend a normal weekend on the slopes if that’s what you’d prefer.”
He sucked in a breath the moment she lowered her face to him and touched her tongue to the tip of his
dick before saying, “I’d prefer you not interrupt me.”
* * *
Marking another first for her, Desta closed her eyes to the stark pleasure of sucking him deep into her mouth. So deep she had to relax her throat muscles and hold him there for a few seconds to adjust. His fingers raked over her scalp, and she moaned, pulling back slightly while her tongue pressed against the underside of his dick.
She’d never given head on a first date. And to be clear, this wasn’t even a date. It was a hookup that may have been considered a booty call if Maurice had personally summoned her to this resort. Whatever it was called, she was in it now, and she couldn’t say she felt bad about that. On the contrary, she’d decided during dinner while they’d talked that this was going to happen tonight. There was no use in putting it off because it was what they both knew they wanted. As for how she was going to deal with the fact that he was a coworker come Monday morning...she didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, she let herself surrender to the warm and tingly sensations coursing through her as her mouth closed around him again. Bobbing her head up and down over his length had her heart thumping and her pussy pulsating. She was wet, dripping as she felt moisture on her inner thighs. Her breasts were heavy with desire, nipples already puckered.
She pulled back, allowing his dick to plop free of her lips, then sucked in a breath as she used both hands to continue working him. Stroking from his base to his tip, she watched as pearls of pre-cum seeped from his slit before ducking her head to devour them.
“Enough,” he whispered. It was more like a strangled moan, but she heard the word and felt his hands going to her shoulders as he guided her up to a standing position.
“You’ve had enough of me already?” How vulnerable had that sounded? She couldn’t take it back no matter how much she wanted to.
His brow furrowed as a completely confused look covered his face. “Never. I’d just like you to experience some pleasure, too, before I make a complete fool of myself and come all over the place.”
