Tied with a Bow Anthology, Vol. 2

by Morris, Raven

  She tugged the last ball out herself and it sent her into orgasm.

  Mark held her while she came, his cock still jerking inside her, until the sensation wrung her out and her knees, finally, collapsed out from under her.

  “Told you you should have kept the pillow.” Mark rearranged her so her legs were on the bed then crawled in beside her.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured into the sheet.

  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, then reached up and turned off the light.

  “dDd you say good night to Susan and John?” she asked, snuggling closer.

  “I didn’t think it needed to be said. We all knew it was a good night.”

  “Mmmm.” She wrapped her arm around his waist.

  “Maddie?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I guess I don’t have to say that I’d like you to stay over.”

  She pulled back a little and opened one eye. “If I weren’t going to we’d have a big problem because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.”

  He stroked a finger along her cheek. “You better. I’ve been listening to Lola talk about you for years. I’ve seen every picture of your vacation. That trip to the beach just about did me in. You look amazing in a bikini, Maddie.”

  She smiled up at him. “I look even better out of one.”

  “True. Very true.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “Like I said, I’ve got four years of pent-up frustrated desire to work through with you. One night isn’t going to cut it.”

  “How many will?”

  “Do I have to come up with a number? Couldn’t we just take it as it comes?”

  “Interesting choice of words.” She smiled up at him. “No problem, Mark. I’ve heard about you for just as long. I’ve got a lot of discovering of my own to do, too.”

  He kissed her and it was utterly sexy to taste herself on his lips. To feel the intensity behind his touch.

  And to know that this didn’t ever have to end.

  ***

  The next morning, Mark’s doorbell rang while Maddie was making breakfast. Naked.

  She slipped on a jacket she found in the coat closet that, luckily, covered her to mid-thigh, and headed out to see who it was.

  There was a box on his front porch.

  Addressed to her.

  Her?

  Maddie picked it up and looked around. No one was there.

  She carried the box back into the kitchen and used a knife to slice open the tape.

  Inside was another box, wrapped in a red bow.

  She untied it and lifted the lid.

  It was a little porcelain birthday cake with a “29” on it and a note.

  Dear Maddie,

  Julie is my cousin. I knew just what I was getting you into when I talked you into buying the Willowyk place. And Julie had strict orders to get you to that party.

  I hope you enjoyed your birthday. Mark was my gift to you. Please don’t ever return him. He’s a keeper.

  ~Lola

  Maddie took out the cake and set it on the counter.

  “What’s that?” Mark asked, running the towel that would normally be on his hips through his hair, but they’d passed no-nudity hours ago.

  “It’s a birthday gift from Lola.”

  He picked it up and looked at it. “Nice, I guess. Definitely something a girl would give another girl.”

  She took it from him and set it back down. Yes, Lola’s birthday gift was definitely something one girl would give another.

  And she was definitely keeping it.

  Dear Reader,

  This is fiction, as are all my stories, most of which are completely fictitious. That is, the idea starts organically in my mind and the story flows from there. I don’t pull from any other experiences.

  This story, however, has a whole different genesis. This is actually based in fact. I was in New Orleans recently and, well, parts of the opening scene did happen right across the courtyard from my balcony. The particulars have changed, but the idea is definitely based in fact.

  As for other things that happened in that hotel room, well, let’s just say that, should he ever recognize himself in these pages, he better know how very kind I am to him in this story because, in reality, his friends and I were laughing our asses off the entire time he was in that room since he couldn’t actually “finish.” Too much beer is never a good thing.

  And, yes, he did have a few friends. Who ordered room service on the pool deck. And wore red dresses. And a feather boa.

  Both of which I now own. (Cover = actual photo.)

  They had a room with a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street, too, but as for anything else in this story being based in truth, well, you’ll just have to wonder…

  ~Raven

  Chapter One

  The sultry humidity of a New Orleans summer night coated not only every breath Melody St. Marks took as she stood in the open French doors to the balcony of her hotel room, but also every muscle in the body of the ohmygod-gorgeous guy in the room across the courtyard.

  The one who was standing in front of his curtain-less doors with a little white towel wrapped around a fine set of hips—with an even finer set of abs above them—and nothing else.

  New Orleans couldn’t touch lust when it came to that heat factor.

  Melody stepped back into the shadow of her room. Turned around. She’d come out onto the balcony for some relief.

  She hadn’t found it.

  The guy grabbed something off the bureau in his hotel room and his towel slipped a little.

  She ought to close the door at the very least. The curtains, to be polite.

  No, he ought to close the curtains to be polite.

  Instead, he whipped off the towel.

  On second thought, closing the curtains would be decidedly impolite.

  He looked out through the window pane. Probably couldn’t see much since it was dark outside and he had his lights on. But there was a lot to see inside.

  He turned sideways and used the towel to dry off a fine set of glutes, then drew it between his legs, raising a fine set of balls, and a dick that—ohmygod.

  Melody fanned herself. Sure, it’d been a while since she’d been in the vicinity of a dick—seven months, three days and about twelve hours to be precise—but she didn’t remember John’s looking nearly as good—or big—as that one.

  Hot Naked Guy rubbed himself with the towel.

  Melody gripped the door and dragged the ottoman over with her foot. She needed to sit down for this.

  Especially when he tossed the towel aside and just rubbed.

  Long, slow strokes. He stood sideways to the door, which meant that if his room was set up like hers, he was standing in front of the mirror.

  She swallowed. He was watching himself get off.

  And she was watching him watching himself get off.

  She wanted to get off.

  She nudged the door on the left closed with her toe, then moved the ottoman strategically behind it so she could still see Hot Naked Guy but no one would be able to see her when she slid her hand beneath her skirt.

  Her panties were already damp, but that had more to do with the weather than him circling his palm on the head of his dick.

  Or… maybe not.

  Melody tugged her panties off, wiggling to keep her skirt in place, but she wanted nothing in her way while she enjoyed him and herself.

  He ran his free hand down his chest and over his abs, his fingers veering straight toward his cock. And then he worked himself with both hands, one pumping his shaft, the other circling the head then kneading his balls. He arched back thrusting his cock out with a tight look on his face as his mouth fell open and he panted.

  So did she.

  His dick was so engorged the skin was a different color than his hand. Tight, hot, hard… She wanted to take it in her mouth and suck the release out of him.

  Her juices coated her fingers. She wanted him to suck her to release, too.

 
Her clit swelled as she circled her finger over it in a move she’d become all too familiar with since she’d found John cheating. Self-induced orgasms might be quicker, but they weren’t necessarily better, and ones when she was all alone with only some vague fantasy running through her mind weren’t even that quick.

  But here, now, with him right in front of her, doing that… She was going to get off in no time flat and it was going to be almost as good as if he were right here with her.

  She cupped her breast with her other hand. It’d been too long since a guy—John unfortunately—had sucked them. She missed the hot moist swirl of a tongue, the suction that fingers couldn’t recreate. She could only imagine Hot Naked Guy playing with them.

  And oh did she imagine.

  His pumping increased and his ass flexed, his thighs contracting as they shifted to take his weight when he leaned back even more. Dear God that was one hot, wanting dick.

  She wanted it inside her. Wanted it filling her aching pussy that was weeping from her unwanted celibacy.

  Well, actually it was weeping with her juices because Hot Naked Guy was about to get two people off—one of whom he didn’t even know about.

  And then he looked through his window.

  Melody froze, her finger on her clit, her hand squeezing her breast, the thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple between them, and she didn’t dare breathe. He couldn’t see her… could he?

  He smiled then and yeah, the guy was beautiful everywhere.

  He gave one last glance through the window, then went back to the mirror. His one hand pumped faster, and the other—dear God, he drew some pre-cum from the tip and spread it around the rim.

  Melody slipped a finger into her pussy. Then another. Why the hell hadn’t she brought her vibrator?

  Because she hadn’t wanted to try to explain that to the TSA agents.

  She scooted forward on the ottoman until she was balanced on the end. Now she could work a third finger into her channel. Not quite the same as that velvety rod, but it would get the job done.

  His tempo increased and he leaned into his pumping, his glutes quivering with the effort it was taking him not to come. She knew because it was the same reason her thighs were quivering. She didn’t want this to be over too soon. It had to be timed just right.

  She shoved her other hand beneath her skirt to rub her clit. Hard, fast, taking the sensitivity and working it back onto itself to make her even that much more aroused.

  Her legs were splayed in front of her, her skirt now able to pass for a belt, and she was open and aching and seeping right there, two feet from the public balcony where anyone could walk by, and she just didn’t care.

  Hot Naked Guy stiffened then. Well, his back did. His dick was already stiff in his hand. But he straightened, his mouth slack, his eyes wide as he looked in the mirror, and he cupped his other hand over the end of his cock.

  He came. Coated his hand, the thick milky fluid pulsing out in long spurts. He captured it and rubbed it all over his shaft, both hands pumping and rubbing and jerking… and he came some more.

  It was so utterly unbelievably sexy. So uninhibited. So abandoned. She’d never seen anything like it and she’d certainly never done anything like it.

  Until now.

  Melody looked down at herself sprawled out there with her fingers stuffed in her pussy, her clit big and swollen and demanding release, her folds parted around it. Dear God, she wanted his tongue on it. Wanted him to take that sensitive, neglected bit of flesh between his lips, and suck and lick and rub her off.

  The image of him there, before her, on his knees, doing just that took her over the edge. Her clit pulsed as she rubbed faster, harder. Her fingers pumped wildly and it was there, just a little more…

  She flicked her clit with her fingernail, that hard scrape ratcheting up the tension, and then she circled and pressed and, all of a sudden, it was washing over her. Sweet, hot, pounding delicious sensations, swirling around inside her, all focused on that one greedy needing spot as she let the orgasm happen.

  She shook and had to keep from groaning, but oh was it hard to stop it.

  Hard. She wanted hard.

  Her legs spread even more and she fucked herself with her fingers, her pussy clenching around them as she imagined his dick in their place. It’d be so good, sliding in and out, pounding her, ramming into her, the pressure intense, the feel of his sweat-slicked body on hers with all those hard, toned muscles working to get her off—

  The mental image finished her off. Gave her an orgasm like she hadn’t had in a long long time.

  God, she needed that. Hell, she needed a man. Tonight. Now.

  And when she opened her eyes, she saw one watching her.

  Hot Naked Guy.

  Melody scrambled back on the ottoman. She was being ridiculous. He couldn’t see her. Her lights were off. She was in shadow. Heck, even the moon was shining on his side of the courtyard. He couldn’t know she was there.

  But… what if he did? What if he wanted to come over? What if he’d known all along that she’d been watching? Had he been putting on a show for her?

  Her folds swelled at that thought.

  Melody shoved the ottoman back farther into the room. It was a nice—hot—thought, but sex with a stranger? That wasn’t her.

  Why the hell not?

  She paused in shoving the ottoman. Yeah, why not? It wasn’t as if she’d be cheating anyone. Letting anyone down.

  She was so sick of being alone. She wanted someone. Anyone. To remind her of what it was like to be a wanted, desirable woman. She hadn’t had that in her seven-month sex-life hiatus.

  And wasn’t that, really, why her friends had insisted she get away for her birthday? Go somewhere all by herself that she’d always wanted to go but hadn’t been able to? Some place John had never wanted to take her. Maybe even find some random hot guy, hook up, have great no-strings-attached sex, and rejoin the world of the living?

  Or just watch some random hot guy get himself off…

  New Orleans, with its history, its pirate past, its beautiful garden district, and the French Quarter that everyone should experience at least once in their life, was the perfect place. All the sights she wanted, and people with a laissez les bon temps roulez consciousness.

  She wanted some good times to roll over her.

  She wouldn’t mind Hot Naked Guy doing so either.

  Speaking of… He grabbed his towel from where he’d flung it to the floor, giving her an even more perfect view of a perfect set of glutes, then flung it over his broad, sculpted shoulder, and headed back toward the bathroom.

  Now he decided to turn off the light?

  Chapter Two

  She needed sustenance. The overpriced, room-temperature bottled water in the minibar wasn’t going to cut it; Melody needed a drink. It wasn’t quite the cigarette-after-sex cliché, but would definitely give her the boost she needed after what she’d just witnessed.

  She’d changed her outfit—the skirt was as soaked as her panties—retouched her makeup (though why? It was New Orleans; it’d sweat off in a minute), washed her hands, and headed out to the pool deck bar.

  It was closed.

  “What the hell?” Three guys echoed her sentiment as they walked onto the pool deck behind her. In dresses.

  Red dresses. Didn’t they realize the Red Dress Charity Run had been over earlier in the day?

  “Are you shitting me?” asked the one with a red and white feather boa. “It’s closed?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” she replied.

  “Who closes a bar in New Orleans on a Saturday night?” asked the guy in a little chiffon number straight out of Flashdance.

  “Probably because two thirds of the hotel is out drinking on Bourbon Street,” said the third. He was tall, dark, and handsome. About six four with a build that she’d consider great if she hadn’t just witnessed the splendor of Hot Naked Guy, but still, he wasn’t too shabby. Even wearing a red sequin shift that was more
of a shirt on him. “Somebody get me out of this thing. It’s strangling me.”

  Melody tried not to laugh as he worked the dress over his head, but when she saw what was beneath it, the laughter dried up. He had a very nice chest.

  She lifted her thick ponytail off her neck, the weight making her hot. Or maybe that was the residual throbbing in her pussy from her earlier orgasm. Or maybe it was on account of the beefcake on display in front of her. Or all of the above.

  “Hey, you want this?” Tall, dark, and handsome held out the sequin dress. “It’s got to be cooler than what you’re wearing. Don’t worry; I didn’t run in it, so it’s not too sweaty.”

  First she’d watched a man get himself off, now she was taking another man’s clothing… Her friends had been right; this trip was just what she needed.

  So, too, was Shirtless.

  She took the dress.

  “So let’s head out then,” said Boa Guy.

  Melody slipped the dress over her head and, in true Flashdance fashion, worked her shirt off from beneath it. Then she slithered out of her capris.

  “Uh, no.” Tall, Dark and Shirtless was staring at her. “I mean, we can’t go.”

  “You pussying out on me?” Boa Guy looked at Melody and grimaced. “Uh, sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about me. I just watched a guy get himself off in front of the open window of his hotel room. You can say whatever you want after that.” Oh shit. Why had she felt the need to share that?

  Her fingers bunched the sequins. Might have had something to do with changing her clothes in front of three strangers…

  “You saw what? You’ve got to be kidding.” The Flashdance guy’s mouth fell open.

  “Uh, yeah. I am.” Good thing the pool deck wasn’t very well lit or they’d see her blush.

  “Which room?” Tall, Dark and Shirtless’s gaze was a little too shrewd.

  Flashdance looked at him. “You think it was Marty?”

  “Of course it was Marty. Who else likes getting off in public?”