by Ruby Taylor
I looked down sharply, unable to remember which underwear I had worn and fearing the worst. In a flash, his hand was at my chin, pushing my face back up toward him. His lips found mine and he kissed me softly. I arched my back and reached my hands up around his neck. His hand left my face and returned to where his other hand was, slowly tracing my slit through my panties. I moaned, and pushed back against him but he refused to be rushed.
The soft warm breeze made me hyper aware of the wetness of my panties. There was no way he hadn’t noticed either, but his touch was maddeningly soft. His fingers were darting in and out from under the cotton, never landing on my aching skin for more than a second. I moaned again, and was surprised at how animalistic the noise from my throat sounded. My hands broke away and this time, I caught him by surprise. Deftly, I pulled my panties aside and pushed myself against his strong hand. The feeling of his skin in mine built the throbbing pressure further. I moaned, almost lost. Then he pulled my hands away.
Before I had time to protest, he had whipped off his belt, and was easing my panties down my hips. He swiveled me around so I was facing the wall. A shiver ran through me – surely someone could see us up here?
8
“What are you doing?” I asked, as he pushed me down against the table. The edge of his belt traced soft lines along my buttocks. I bucked backwards; half scared, half of me hoping he would give me more. Firmer now, the leather pushed against my wet slit. When he pulled it away and slapped my ass a few seconds later, the sound of leather against my bare skin made me gasp.
“Relax,” he murmured, leaning over me and pulling my hair away so he could kiss my neck, one hand caressing my buttocks. “Stop wriggling.”
“But I want you,” I protested, in a voice different to my own.
He grunted, pushing himself closer to me now. I could feel his hard length against my bare ass, and longed to free him from his pants. I pushed up from the table and had swiveled halfway around when he pushed me back down.
“We play by my rules,” he grunted. He was leaning against me again, holding my hands above my head. I heard his belt buckle jangle. Then the leather tightened around my wrists. Realization crept over me - I was securely fastened to the leg of the heavy table. I pulled my hands away, testing the weight – the damn thing didn’t move.
I could feel him behind me, watching me. We stayed like that for what felt like several minutes, me lying helpless across the table; him watching. Then without warning he kicked my legs apart. Embarrassed, I squeezed them together again. He grunted impatiently and thrust against me roughly, still fully clothed. His cock pushed against me, still hard and straining.
“Please,” I groaned, half embarrassed at my exposed position out there on the balcony, visible to the world, half wanting nothing more than for him to bury himself deep inside me.
He didn’t reply. His fingers teased at my bare slit, pushing inside me shallowly, then pulling out again. I felt his wet fingers trail slowly downwards, until they gently circled my clit, stroking and pinching at the throbbing bump. My pussy started clenching again, and soon I was grinding my pelvis against his hand, desperately seeking release. Without a word, he knelt down, and I felt his fast breath against my wet slit. I held my breath. He stayed like that for a couple seconds, holding my legs hard so I couldn’t wriggle away. Then slowly he brought his mouth down to my pulsing clit, flicking it gently with his tongue. He slowly increased the pressure, fingering my cunt as he gently lapped away at my bud.
Then he changed the pace, and suddenly everything was distorted. He was sucking my clit and the pleasure overtook me, the sensation too much to take. He refused to move away until he had driven me over the edge. I cried and sobbed into the night air, no longer conscious of passers-by, nor concerned about anyone else hearing.
I lay against the cold glass, in awe at what he had done to my body. I felt like I was somewhere else, watching us, as he leaned over me and unstrapped my hands. He lifted me effortlessly, and carried me through the door and back into my room. I leaned up to kiss him as he pulled back the covers on one of the two double beds and gently placed me on the cool sheets. Dreamily, I raised my hand to pull him down to me, but he was gone. I succumbed to the sleep I was fighting.
9
I awoke with a start. The clock on the dresser said 2am. Jessa. I sat up quickly and looked to my left, at the other bed. Jack stirred beside me.
“What’s up?” he blinked, his eyes looking more brown than green. I was mesmerized for a moment – even half asleep he was captivating. I barely had time to register Jessa’s empty bed before he was turning over, supporting his weight on his arms.
“Good sleep?”
I nodded.
He stroked my lip before running his hand down my body, pausing to twist my nipples between his fingers. When I yelped, he smothered my mouth with a lingering, delicate kiss. His hand had reached my mound, still sensitive from his touch earlier.
“Still wet,” he whispered, running his fingers along the entrance to my pussy.
He moved his hand away and pressed against me. I tilted my hips forward to meet him, his hard cock jamming against my slit. He pushed inside and swiveled his hips, staying shallow. I couldn’t help but push against him, before hesitating – he hadn’t liked that earlier. Then I remembered his reaction. Trying to keep the smile from my face, I lifted my hips off the bed, pulling him into my tight, wet pussy. He strained backwards, trying to control himself, but succumbed, thrusting hard inside me. I squeezed him as tight as I could, enjoying the sound him losing control in reaction to my body. Pushing my hips up to take him even deeper, I felt my own orgasm build again. Though he thrust hard and fast, he was in control of every movement – it felt as if his hips moved to rub against a different part of me each time. His weight supported on one hand, the other was free to roam around my body, cupping my breasts firmly and possessively. We were drenched in sweat when he slowed and bucked against me.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned, his voice low and primal. He moved his hand to my hair and lifted my head to find my mouth with his. He kissed me savagely as he pulled almost all the way out and poised, his wet cock just at the entrance of my pussy.
“Wh—” I tried to ask, but couldn’t get the words out with his tongue exploring my mouth. I pushed my hips against him, seeking release for the pressure building up inside me. He leaned forward, still not entering me, and redistributed his weight onto his other elbow, resting just above my head. His newly-free hand shot down to my crotch, two fingers insistently rubbing my swollen clit. His movements were urgent now. As the climax seized me and I started to jerk and moan in his arms, he pushed back into me and rode the waves with me, my pussy squeezing him involuntarily. Finally we collapsed onto the bed together, limp and exhausted.
10
“Damn.” I tried to sit up, but was blocked by two hundred pounds of hot man.
“What’s up?” he mumbled, barely awake.
I lifted my head and looked over at Jessa’s bed. Still empty. The clock read 3am.
“What’s the matter?” he was awake now, looking at me with confusion.
“My friend. We’re sharing. But it’s only 3 – she usually doesn’t make it back 'til daybreak.”
“Hmm,” he muttered, lying back down. “We’ve got lots of time.”
My exhausted body tingled at the thought.
I was wide awake now, the proximity of his body, and the memories of what it had done to me, sent shivers through me. Seeing he had fallen back to sleep, I tried to roll out from underneath his as gently and quietly as I could.
“Where are you going?” his arm crashed across the bed and wound its way around my waist, pulling me backward.
“I’m just going to shower.”
He sat up behind me, kissing the back of my neck. “Not without me you’re not.”
We half-walked, half-stumbled to the bathroom. I almost fell over in my haste to climb into the bathtub, but he steadied me. I turned the water on as he
climbed in behind me.
The blast of cold water made me gasp and jump forward, so we were clasped tightly together. I groaned when I felt his hard-on pressing into me. Kissing his chest, I ignored the spray of water drenching me and slowly hunkered down in front of me. His hand came up to stroke and play with my hair. I tried to keep eye contact with him as I took the tip of him in my mouth. My embarrassment soon melted away when I saw the effect I was having on him. I licked the length of his shaft until I reached his balls. Remembering how he had teased me earlier, I stroked them with my fingers as lightly as I could. He dug his fingers into the back of my head, pushing against me. I moved back to his cock, slowly licking along the base until his head was at my lips again. I looked up and smiled when I caught his eyes.
Feeling cruel, I parted my lips and slowly took him deep into my mouth. He moaned and grabbed a handful of my soaking-wet hair. I pulled off him slightly, before slowly moving deeper again. His breathing was strained as he pulled out and thrust into my mouth, cumming in my throat.
Panting, his grip on my hair eased. I stood up, gently kissing his stomach and chest on my way back up. He leaned down into me, kissing my temple.
“I’m gonna go order us some food. Don’t even think about getting out before I come back.”
I grinned and reached for the shampoo bottle, glad of the opportunity to freshen up.
11
I was rinsing away the foamy lather when I heard the door slam. I assumed it was the room service, arriving quickly for once. It wasn’t until I had rubbed conditioner into the ends of my hair, and the voices were still there, that it dawned on me. Jessa. Eager to avoid a scene, I rinsed as quickly as I could. When I heard the door slam I abandoned rinsing entirely, jumped out of the tub and grabbed a towel.
I clutched the towel around me, heart thumping. The room sounded quieter. Ominous. I twisted the handle and threw the door open.
There was a man lying on Jessa’s bed. She was straddling him, and they appeared to be trying to wrestle off her clothing. My stomach plummeted. I dashed around the corner, reasoning that he had sought refuge in the living room. There was no one there. I marched back to the bedroom.
“Where’s Jack?”
Jessa didn’t even bother to look at me. “Who’s Jack?”
“Damn it Jessa! How many guys have I brought back here? Unlike you. The guy who was just here?”
“Oh.” She stopped fumbling and looked at me for the first time. “I assumed you were trying to get rid of him.” she shrugged.
“What?”
She looked less certain now. “Well, you weren’t here. I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“I was in the damn bathroom, Jessa.” I looked to my right and thought of something. Jogging out of the room, I pulled open the door to our room and looked along the corridor. It was empty.
I walked back to the bedroom and cleared my throat loudly. Jessa looked back non-plussed.
“We’re kind of in the middle of something?”
I felt like I was about to explode. I picked up my pillow and pulled off the quilt before retiring to the living room sofa.
I awoke when sunlight began to filter through the bedroom window and hit my face. Remembering that today was the day of our return flight, I sat bolt upright, before reaching to the carpet for my cell phone. 7am. Shit. I pushed back the covers and jumped up from the sofa, facing through the open door of the bedroom. Jessa was sprawled out on her bed alone. I hurried over and shook her arm. It took several seconds before she stirred, groaning.
“What?” she snapped, eyes still closed.
“Get up. We need to leave for the airport in thirty minutes.” I had been so flustered the night before that I’d forgotten to set my alarm.
She pulled her arm away and rolled over, muttering.
“Get up Jessa,” I said wearily, walking to the bathroom.
“You still in a mood about that old guy last night?” she mumbled sulkily.
“He’s not old. And yes, I am.” I paused with my hand on the handle and turned around to face her. “It was selfish of you to tell him to go. It’s not like you hadn’t seen any action yourself this week.”
She rolled over and peeled her mascara-caked eyes open. “That’s not fair. I was looking out for you. He was old. You need someone young and rich. A musician. Like mine!”
I snorted. “He was in his thirties. And not that I care about money, but the only thing your musician – your musicians – will give you is the clap!”
I opened the door and slammed it behind me, blocking her shouts of protest.
In the shower, memories of the previous night flooded my brain, and my body reacted as if he were here with me still. As I squeezed shower gel into my hands and massaged them over my body, I imagined they were his hands exploring me. I stifled a sob, hoping Jessa hadn’t heard above the sound of the water. She wouldn’t understand. I did my best to stop people getting under my skin and getting to know me, but this guy hadn’t shrugged and walked away. I had gotten the feeling that those analytical green-brown eyes had cut away the layers and seen the real me. I squeezed my eyes closed and shook my head violently, trying to banish the growing fantasy that I’d just bump into him on the subway on my way to work on Monday morning.
“Jeez, Mel, you’re an actuary,” I hissed in a whisper. “Stop being so ridiculous.”
Seeing sense at last, I stepped out of the tub and toweled myself off. Wrapping the towel around me and grabbing my toiletry bag, I opened the door and walked back in the room.
Jessa was standing over her case, holding a dress in either hand.
“Ten minutes,” I chided, looking at the clock on the bedside table.
I walked to my own case and placed the bag on top of the neat pile. After surveying the bedroom, I walked into the living room to check for stuff I’d forgotten. On the way back I remembered the balcony, where we had been leaving our bikinis to dry, and where—
“Stop it,” I whispered softly.
Jessa looked at me curiously but didn’t say anything. She had left both dresses down and returned to sit on her bed. I ignored her as I walked past to the sliding door.
I grabbed my bikinis and sarong off the little rail and glanced at the beach for one last time. And then it caught my eye.
12
Curious, I bent down and lifted the little black rectangle, thinking one of us must have dropped it from our purse. I held it between two fingers. It was matte black plastic, with filigreed designs all over it in shinier material. Roughly the size of a credit card, there was nothing on it except for the letter ‘A’ embossed in gold, and a tiny set of digits at the bottom. I could tell from the 212 prefix that it was a telephone number back in New York. I walked back inside the room past Jessa. She was perched on the edge of the bed, painting her toenails a vile shade of pink. I checked the time on my cell. We still had five minutes before we needed to leave for the airport.
Turning away from Jessa and holding the plastic card to the light, I tapped in the digits, absently wondering what the ‘A’ meant. He never had said what company he worked for – maybe it was a trendy marketing agency.
It was ringing. I held my breath, feeling foolish for calling and tongue-tied – what would I say?
The dial-tone halted after two rings.
“Alpha Club,” a crisp woman’s voice answered.
His secretary?
“Hello?” she repeated.
“Hi,” I said, boldened by the electrifying memory of his touch. “I’m looking for Jack.”
“Jack,” she repeated.
“Yes.” I wished she would hurry up and transfer me to his cell.
“Who’s calling?”
“Um, I’m a friend. I lost his number and I’m trying to get in touch.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Miss, unfortunately we don’t give out our members’ details over the telephone,” she said. It sounded as if she was rec
iting this from memory.
Members, I thought. I looked at Jessa. She had moved back to her case, and was busy fumbling with the zip.
“Well could you pass on a message and ask him to call me?” I asked, hating the eagerness in my voice.
“I’m sorry Miss,” she replied. “Some of our clients ask that we don’t take messages on their behalf. They get a lot of requests from charities and journalists, and it isn’t possible for them to respond to every one. Thank you.”
The line clicked and I heard dial tone. I stared at my cell in disbelief. Alpha Club? Member?
“Wait.” I said it aloud and Jessa looked back at me quizzically through blood-shot eyes.
I tapped on the browser app and typed ‘Alpha Club New York’ into the search bar. I opened the top search result, the website of a gossip magazine. And boy did my eyes widen as I skimmed over the article.
To be continued…
Also by Ruby Taylor:
The Alpha Club series
The Alpha Club 2: Put to the Test:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CR2C1X8
The Alpha Club 3: Pushed to the Limit:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CRIZMBU
The At His Disposal series
Seduced (At His Disposal, Part 1):
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009JU8WT8
Taken (At His Disposal, Part 2):
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009L5XZ7A
Teased (At His Disposal, Part 3):
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009PNTFHW
Other
Falling (an Erotic Romance):
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B3HY8DO
The Assistant:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009SQ9GMK
Copyright Ruby Taylor 2012
All rights reserved
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