Nights in Black Lace

by Noelle Mack

  “Ah. I suppose we could.” She smiled uncertainly. The way he looked in the thick sweater, warm and masculine, made her want to jump into his lap, and start all over again. For however long. “Where should we start?”

  He glanced over her shoulder at the drenched customers who’d just come in, greeting their friends with waves that shook drops of water on their table. “Not a great time to tour Paris. The weather’s going to be like this for a while. Besides, you have work to do.”

  “You can spend a day at my atelier, if you like,” Odette offered. Would he want to? He had said his mother was a dressmaker. He might feel at home.

  “I was just going to ask that.” He looked relieved. “I e-mailed my mom about winning the front-row seat at your show. She wanted to know all about it. Asked if I’d met you.”

  Odette, made brave by the brandy, permitted herself a smile. “And what did you say?”

  “I said yes, we met. Informally,” he added.

  Odette blew out her breath. “It is easier to lie in an e-mail.”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t lying. I just wasn’t telling her everything.”

  Odette pressed her lips together, feeling guilty all over again despite his reassurance. “Fair enough. So…of course, yes, you can visit my atelier. Bring a camera. So long as you do not take pictures of the designs.”

  “Of course not. I understand why. I know what trade secrets are.”

  “Ah, Bryan—that is not why I didn’t tell you who I was. It never occurred to me that you were anything other than who you seemed to be—”

  “Shall we order?”

  She looked from his handsome, open face to that of the waiter, and took the hint. The subject of how they’d met was now closed. She drew in a deep breath and took one of the two proffered menus, ordering the first thing she saw and a bottle of plonk. She handed the menu back to the waiter.

  Bryan suppressed a chuckle and said he’d have the same thing, whatever it was. The waiter picked up the brandy glasses and came back with two wineglasses and a dark green bottle with no label.

  “So is that plonk?”

  “Yes. Vin ordinaire. Theirs is often good.”

  They made small talk and drank until the meal arrived.

  “Pot au feu.” She whiffed the fragrant steam coming from the bowls the waiter set down. “You will like it.”

  “I believe in taking chances.” He helped himself to a chunk of bread from the basket. “This looks like the good stuff, nice and chewy. Like what we had at your place.”

  “So it does.” She was halfway through the bowl before she asked him to spend the night again.

  They’d gotten out of the taxi several blocks before her street, because Odette had wanted to walk. The rain had stopped, but the dark streets glistened.

  She was under his arm, warm and content. “It is too bad that it’s raining.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind the rain. I like the way it makes everything look different.”

  Pleased by his offhand comment, she didn’t say anything but pressed a light kiss on the masculine hand draped over her shoulder.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “You warm enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “Paris is colder than I expected.”

  “A lot of people think so. It suits me. But I take my holidays in warm places.”

  “Did you grow up here, Odette?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Not in the city, though.” She named the suburb. “You wouldn’t know it.”

  “I could look it up online.”

  Odette gave a heartfelt sigh. “From now on, I will be honest. So just ask.”

  He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I never dated anyone like you. Can we just forget about the you-rich-me-poor part?”

  “For sure. Besides, I wasn’t always.”

  “So I gathered. You did it on your own.” He paused. “Wait a minute. We have to figure out how to walk together.”

  “Your legs are too long,” she said happily.

  “Sorry.”

  They started off again, turning a corner.

  “I always wanted to go into business. You know I was a model—”

  “And I’m glad you’re not anymore.”

  “Yes,” she laughed. “I like to eat. Anyway, I was done with it by twenty-five and I found a backer. I never expected the line to take off like it did, but I was very successful.”

  “The show was amazing.”

  “I have done many, but I want to branch out. Fragrances, accessories—if I can license my name, I won’t have to work so hard.”

  “Hmm.”

  They had come into a passage roofed in glass where there were no cars, and no people either at this hour of the night. She made him stop in front of a chic little millinery shop. “See the flowers on those hats? My mother made things like that by hand for couturiers. It’s a dying art. Everything is prêt-à-porter now—ready to wear and outsourced.”

  He looked at the display. “Yeah, my mother couldn’t really compete. Not when there are warehouses stuffed with prom dresses and bridal gowns. So I get it.”

  “Perhaps she will visit Paris someday,” Odette said. “With you.”

  He didn’t answer, because they’d left the passage and the rain began to fall again, coming down hard out of clouds they couldn’t see in the night.

  “Let’s go!” He grabbed her hand and they ran the rest of the way, with her in the lead, trying not to twist her ankle on the cobblestones.

  They arrived at the door of her apartment building, breathless, laughing, and soaked to the skin, and raced up the marble stairs.

  Odette searched for her key while they both stood shivering on the mat, jamming it into the lock.

  Once inside, he took off his jacket and went to the bathroom to hang it up, pulling off his sweater on the way back. “You mind? This thing smells like a wet dog.”

  “Of course not. But I don’t have anything to give you to wear.”

  “No? I was wondering if those briefs you gave me—”

  “A prototype.”

  “I remember. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He slid a hand down his jeans to adjust them. “But they need work. Back to the drawing board, Design Girl. I’ve been tugging my nuts all day.”

  She giggled. “I will make a note of that.”

  “So you’re doing a line of men’s underwear?”

  “I might.”

  “Need a model?”

  She only laughed. “You could do it, Bryan. You have a real-man look. Buff, but not too buff.”

  He ran a hand over his bare chest. “Would I have to get waxed?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then forget it.”

  “You don’t have that much chest hair, Bryan. And none at all on your back. You are just right. Anyway, Marc says that fur is back.”

  His hand stopped. “Who’s Marc?”

  “My assistant and right-hand man. He keeps me informed on trends in male fashion.”

  “I hope he’s gay.” At her nod, he grinned. “Good. I don’t have to be jealous.”

  “He is a little jealous of me, put it that way.”

  “You mean he knows who I am?” Bryan asked.

  “He saw you at the show. But he says things like that to make me laugh. He thinks I work too hard.”

  “You probably do.” He came closer. “Don’t you want to get out of that coat and stuff? You’ll catch cold.”

  “Zut. Of course.” She let him remove her coat, shrugging out of the sleeves as he helped her out of it. “You distracted me, walking around half-naked.”

  He turned her around and rubbed her arms with his hands. “Did I?”

  Odette turned her face up to his to reply, but she didn’t get a chance. In another second, he was kissing her, deeply, warmly.

  She responded, caressing his chest, enjoying the way he trembled. “Cold hands,” he murmured into her mouth.

  Ode
tte moved them to his waist, then over his lower back, and finally down into his jeans. She held his muscular butt while he went back to kissing her.

  “I think those briefs fit you just fine,” she whispered when the kiss stopped.

  “I still want to take them off,” he said. “But I’ll do it any way you want me to.”

  “Inch by inch. Nice and slow.”

  Bryan laughed a little self-consciously. “You really know how to make a guy feel cheap.”

  Odette slid her hand around to the front of his jeans and got her fingers around his erection, stroking him as best she could. She didn’t have much room, not with a great big cock like his. “You have something very nice to show off, m’sieu.”

  “Huh. Glad you like it.” He looked down at her slender hand inside his jeans. “It likes you.”

  She pouted her lips and blew a kiss at his cock, then laughed when he twitched it. “I guess so.”

  “Told you. C’mon, let’s get you undressed.”

  Odette shook her head. “I don’t want to be naked yet.”

  “Feeling shy?”

  “No. I want to take my time. Besides, it is still cold in here—I should adjust the thermostat and—”

  “That just doesn’t sound sexy,” he sighed.

  “I want to watch you do a striptease.”

  “Oh. Oh.” He gave her a hug that extended his hard-on. “That’s different. Go change then. Get comfortable. Get ready for a girl’s night out.”

  Odette sauntered down the hallway, unbuttoning the damp clothes she still wore. “For one girl. Me.” She paused to reset the thermostat dial on the way.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he called from the kitchen. Cabinet doors were opening and closing.

  When she returned, she found a tray with a pitcher of drinks and two glasses. “What is this?”

  “My speciality. More-or-Less Margaritas. Guaranteed to knock you on your beautiful ass.”

  “Bien.”

  “Wow,” he said, noticing her lingerie. “That’s some gown. Your design?”

  “Of course.” She turned around to show him. Nearly backless, the sheer gown fit her like a second skin—and showed her real skin underneath. Lace, strategically placed, covered her nipples and soft mound, but everything else was revealed.

  “Stay there,” he muttered. He took a step closer, barefoot now, and she sighed with pleasure when he began to stroke her bottom with his big, warm hands, moving the sheer material of the gown underneath his palms to give her even more subtle stimulation. “Nice and silky. Do you like the way that feels?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She looked over her shoulder at him. “Don’t stop.”

  Bryan moved his hands in slow circles…rubbing…rubbing…still not baring her bottom. The sensation was exquisite. Her labia swelled plump and wet without him touching them at all.

  “You’re like a cat,” he murmured. “You like lots of stroking and gentleness.”

  “At first.”

  Her eyes were half-closed and she wasn’t looking over her shoulder anymore, but she could sense him smile at her reply. “Yeah. You like to get wild too,” he said.

  Bryan stopped what he was doing and turned her around to face him. He got her by the waist, enjoying making the sheer material slide a little over her skin there too.

  Then he kissed her again, rubbing himself through his jeans. Twined around each other, they surrendered to the sweetness of foreplay, until she put a hand to his cheek and stopped him.

  Looking a little dazed, Bryan took a couple of deep breaths. Odette ran her hand over the tautness of his abs, then rested her fingertips on his male nipples. She looked a little closer at the right one, seeing a small hole in it.

  “Did you—” she began.

  “That used to be pierced,” he said.

  “Ah.”

  “I got hit on by gay guys at the beach too much. I took it out and forgot about it.”

  Odette nodded. “But would you wear one for me?”

  “Of course. You do have a striptease coming up.”

  “I have something that would fit. A little gold earring. Very plain.”

  “That would do it.”

  She patted his chest. “I’ll be right back.”

  It took her less than a minute to find what she was looking for in her jewelry box. She came back into the room to find him pulling on his nipple, stretching the hole a little.

  “May I?” she asked.

  He nodded. She took his nipple between her fingertips and slid the wire of the small gold ring through it. He winced but held steady.

  She stepped back. “The final touch. You are beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I don’t think of myself like that, but thanks.”

  He was, though. The thick hair, like a rock star, and those sexy eyes—and mon Dieu, that body of his. Tall and leanly muscled. The tiny ring drew the eye to his chest, and only added to his masculine self-assurance.

  “Okay. Am I ready?” he asked.

  Odette settled back into the sofa. “I think so.”

  He bent over to pour her a drink and she reached forward, catching the ring with her fingertip. She pulled it ever so gently.

  “Hmm. Easy, now. Feels good, though.”

  She used it to bring him even closer for a soft, brief kiss. “All right. Strip.” She picked up her drink.

  “Never did this.”

  “I don’t care.”

  As it turned out, he was a natural. He didn’t have dancer moves, but he was athletic and any move he made was sexy. He popped the steel button out of the frayed buttonhole and eased the zipper down until he could open his jeans.

  Then he pushed the briefs down underneath, taking out his cock, handling himself with rough ease.

  “Just look,” he said.

  She nodded, staring hungrily at the veined, heavy shaft in his hands.

  Bryan began to stroke himself, his eyes on her. But she couldn’t meet his gaze. His self-stimulation was fascinating to watch. His strong fingers slid up and down, stopping just under the plum of the head, pumping until a pearly drop appeared in its slit.

  “Want that?” he asked huskily.

  Odette sat forward. He guided her head and put his cock near her mouth. She liked this game. She wasn’t going to suck him greedily, even though she wanted to.

  No. Tip to tip. Her tongue darted out and took the drop. Then she closed her mouth.

  “Exactly like a cat,” he said in a low voice. “You don’t do anything you don’t want to do. But you like licking come, don’t you?”

  Odette nodded.

  He pumped another drop for her, and flinched when she took longer about licking it. She got her tongue tip into the slit and cleaned it nicely for him. Bryan gritted his teeth. “Uhh. Yeah. So ladylike. You’re driving me crazy.”

  Odette sat back again. “Take those jeans off.” She curled her feet under her, and sleeked the sheer gown over her thighs, picking up her drink. Salty man and sweet lime were a delicious combination. She ran her tongue over her lips as he slid the jeans down.

  Inch by inch. He reached his hands over his head when the jeans and briefs together were down far enough to release his balls too, and gave her a slow dance, letting her feast her eyes on all of it.

  Aroused, he moved with sinuous grace where he was, hobbled by the pushed-down jeans. Then Odette changed her position on the sofa so that she could lift her gown. She wanted to spread her legs and masturbate while he danced for her. He lost that dreamy look fast, staring at her.

  “Want me to stop?” he asked.

  “Not yet.” She poured him a stiff drink and handed it to him.

  “Merci, madame,” he said respectfully. He drank it down all at once, and set the glass on the table, his face a little flushed.

  She relaxed with her hand between her legs, watching him cup his heavy balls and start a slow pumping action on his cock again. “Wow. Feeling the rush. How about you?”

  “Watching you—yes
.”

  He looked straight into her eyes. “Not much longer. Fuck watching. I want you.”

  “Ah, Bryan…”

  “Now?”

  “Take them all the way off,” she said at last. He did, in less than a second. And then he was over her, sliding his powerful body over the sheer silk of her gown until she slid her fingertip into the ring through his nipple.

  That was all it took to control him, strong as he was.

  “It hurts,” he growled. “Goddamn it—I like it. Keep your finger in the ring.”

  He kissed her fiercely, fisting his hands in her hair, bruising her lips with passionate tenderness. His overstimulated cock thrust and thrust against her belly, slipping and sliding.

  He stopped bucking and forced himself to calm down, looking into her eyes the way he had before, pushing her hair back from her temples. Odette could not quite meet his gaze—the troubled, shadowy quality of it unnerved her.

  But that only added to her own arousal. She knew the delicate gown had torn. She didn’t care. He could rip it to shreds if he wanted to.

  Her hand was pressed between his chest and hers. She couldn’t pull out of the little ring that bound them. He had asked her for the pain it gave him as if he wanted to make a sacrifice, however small, for her.

  “I wish we could go skin on skin,” he said at last. “I know we can’t. But I can make it last. I want you to come in my mouth.”

  He rose up from her body and she eased her fingertip out of the nipple ring. Again he winced. The pressure of his weight had made her finger swell and she had to pull.

  “I am sorry.” Odette patted his chest, not sure of his mood but loving the wildness that he was trying to control.

  “Don’t be. That went right to my cock.”

  So it had. When he stood up, his rod stood nearly upright, longer than before, shiny with more pre-come.

  “I should be sorry. I tore your gown.”

  “I don’t care.” She took it in her hands and ripped it open down the front, baring herself completely. She seized her breasts, offering them to him as she lay on her back, begging him with her body to lie down with her again.

  But he kneeled instead, turning her with her strong hands and pushing her thighs apart.

  She moaned when his mouth claimed her pussy and his lascivious tongue penetrated her. Bryan licked and lapped, inside and out, touching her clitoris now and then, but not suckling. She clutched her breasts and squeezed them harder than he would have dared.