I looked around the packed nightclub and wondered what all these people made of us together: after all, Gina and I must have made quite the odd-looking couple. Everyone seemed to know her, and I imagine I wasn’t her usual kind of date. She was dressed in one of the hundreds of green dresses she seemed to own, the red of her hair so vibrant in comparison. Meanwhile, I was wearing a pretty conservative Marni dress, and of course I was the only woman in the entire place in flat shoes.
It was a pretty strange, surreal experience.
I’d never really been out ‘nightclubbing’, not even while I was back at Savannah. The closest I’d ever come to heavy nights out were the occasional noisy art rock bands that Fallon had dragged me to, in dive bars and cold disused warehouses. But this was completely different. A real nightclub, with pulsing music and flashing lights and dancing sweaty bodies …
Actually, on second thoughts, it did remind me of something:
It reminded me of that other kind of club I’d been to recently. And again I found myself wondering just what Gina made of me — after all, she knew I’d attended Blake’s party, didn’t she? And for all I knew, she might have even been there in that circular room, watching on during our little show, or even ...
I stole a quick glance at her long, manicured fingers with their glossy nails.
Were they the same fingers that had parted my buttocks and slipped inside me?
And was that the same tongue that had fucked me from behind?
Yes, the more I thought about it, the more this nightclub reminded me of Blake’s parties. There was exactly the same kind of tension in the air, the same hungry looks in the eyes of the men and women, all stalking the shadows and writhing on the dance floor …
And as I began to dance, I felt my pulse quicken, triggered by memories of my experiences at Blake’s club, and I felt a certain throbbing wetness between my legs, my nipples stiffening and tingling, as I began to give myself up to the music, moving my body slowly and sensuously in time to the beat, there in the center of the dance floor, Gina and I both dancing close together, our eyes locking for a moment — sending a surprising flash of excitement through me.
And the more we danced, the more I could feel the hungry eyes of others, too — mostly men but some women also — watching on expectantly. I’ll admit it: this was turning me on.
I could feel my pulse racing, as my eyes moved hungrily over Gina’s perfect body: so full and voluptuous and curvy, both lithe and toned, yet at the same time so womanly, so unlike my slim boyish frame.
It took me by surprise when she closed up the remaining space between us, her sensuous body now only inches from mine, the rest of the room fading into the background as our eyes locked, Gina’s full breasts brushing softly against my own, her hands moving tenderly around my waist then straying down to my buttocks, her right knee pressing eagerly between my thighs, her full glossy lips softly grazing against mine.
Am I really about to do this?
Because it was me who took the next step, shocking myself a little: pushing my mouth hungrily against hers, parting her lips with my tongue, feeling myself throb hard as Gina ground her thigh further between mine in response, her hands now eagerly cupping my ass, her firm breasts pressing against my own …
§
We stumbled back into the apartment just a few hours later, our heads swirling both from the insanely strong cocktails and also from our new-found interest in each other.
Almost the moment the door swung closed, we were kissing again, just as we had in the club — pausing just moments long enough to flag down a taxi home, the whole ride escalating the electric, crackling tension between us.
Gina took control immediately, leading the way to her room, taking me by the hand, so dominant and forceful it gave me not a second to pause and think about what exactly I was doing.
And the thing was, I wanted this, and it surprised me. You see, I’d never had any kind of thoughts or experiences with girls before this night. But I’d opened up so much over the last few weeks, learnt so much more about myself, and I really wanted to know what it was like with another woman. I wanted to explore this new side of myself, and who better than someone as experienced and sexual as Gina?
We fell back onto her purple silk bed sheets, our hands exploring each other’s bodies. Gina’s breasts felt so full compared to mine, her nipples so big and hard, and I found I just couldn’t stop touching them. They felt absolutely amazing. This was nothing like a man’s hard, sculpted pecs. I just loved the way their softness filled my hands completely.
Within moment’s she’d tugged off her dress, revealing that she was wearing nothing beneath it except a matching green g-string, and soon I was on top of her, unable to control myself any longer, my mouth closing eagerly over her nipple, my tongue flicking tantalizingly against that puckering, hardening flesh, while my fingers strayed downwards, slipping easily into her panties, finding her so hot and wet, her lips shaved and silky-smooth to the touch. She arched her hips and ground herself hard against my hand, moaning softly, and I shivered too, relishing what I was doing.
It felt so different to anything I’d done with a boy; so much softer, so much more sensual. I began working my kisses downwards, too, over her smooth toned belly, making my way down between her legs.
Here goes nothing ...
I’d never really thought I’d ever go down on another girl, but now I wanted to try it more than anything in the world. I pulled eagerly at her panties, tugging them over her thighs, positioning myself between her legs, and at first lapping rather timidly at her clit, tasting the sweetness of her juices.
But once again, Gina took control, running her fingers softly through my hair, then becoming more direct, grabbing my head and guiding me further between her legs. I responded by tonguing her clit more eagerly, lapping at it, running my tongue in circles around the sensitive little nub, trying to replicate the way I liked to be licked there, and she let out a deep, shuddering sigh in response. And as I licked at her, I brought my fingers to her pussy, too, slipping first one then two digits so easily inside her, feeling just how hot, wet and surprisingly tight she was.
I sucked her clit hard between my lips, increasing my motions with my fingers, feeling her tremble, enjoying hearing her sighs and moans get louder and louder. Then with a final shudder, she cried out, clamping my head with her thighs as her pussy spasmed around my fingers, her body trembling as she came.
“Oh, sweetie,” she moaned in that soft Southern drawl once she’d floated back down to earth. “That was fucking hot!”
I looked up at her, and she smiled back at me, her hair all tangled and messy, her cheeks flushed, her hands cupping her own breasts, her nipples poking like bullets from between her slender fingers, her milk-white body still trembling, covered in a glistening, dewy sheen.
“Come here,” she purred. “Now it’s my turn.”
So I rose onto my hands and knees, crawling towards her, feeling her eager hands tugging me hungrily upwards, pulling at my dress. I helped her out, yanking it up over my head as quickly as I could, throwing it onto the floor then undoing my bra with shaky fingers, my whole body shivering in anticipation. I’d only just about wriggled free from my panties before Gina’s hot slender hands were on me once more, pulling me towards her, her fingers exploring my breasts then slipping down between my legs.
Then she began urging me up further still, pulling my waist eagerly in the direction of her head, which was now propped up on the pillows.
After a moment’s confusion, I realized just what she wanted me to do. It felt so strange to comply, placing my trembling knees gingerly either side of her head and letting this sexy older woman begin to pleasure me with her mouth, her tongue quickly burying itself so deep inside me, her hands cupping my buttocks, spreading them wide apart, as she helped me grind out my pleasure rhythmically against her willing mouth.
I put both hands out on the wall above my head to steady myself as I rode Gina’s face, thrus
ting my hips forward and back, hearing her muffled moans as she licked and sucked at me, one of her fingers straying to my asshole too, pushing a little ways inside me, sending a fresh shiver of pleasure flashing round my body.
I could feel my orgasm building, and maybe Gina could sense it too, because she increased her motions, moving a thumb to my clit too, stimulating it softly as she continued to fuck me with her mouth. This sent me over the edge and I gasped as I came, my body bucking, my mind flashing white, splintering into a million little electric shards ...
§
“So, how do you like your eggs, sleepyhead?” Gina asked cheerily the next morning.
I looked at her groggily, only realizing after another few seconds that I was still in her bed, the silky purple sheets tangled around my naked frame.
The morning light was flooding in from the large window on the far wall, and I winced, feeling both the after-effects of those incredibly strong cocktails and also a pang of deep embarrassment. I mean, after what happened between us last night, how in the hell were we supposed to act normal with each other now?!
“Um, either scrambled or … not at all?” I mumbled, unsure whether I could handle anything other than a strong black coffee right about now.
“What about a coffee?” she asked, as if she could read my mind.
“Sure, thanks, that’d be great,” I replied, wondering how she could be so damned chirpy this early in the morning.
Perhaps she was just way more used to booze than me. After all, from the way those guys treated her in the club last night, she was obviously something of a regular down at Provocateur.
She turned and headed off happily in the direction of the kitchen, her bare ass flashing briefly from beneath the t-shirt she’d thrown on.
I was still completely naked, and once I was sure she wasn’t about to stick her head back around the door, I slipped out from under the sheets and quickly pulled on my panties, before gathering the rest of my clothes and holding them to my chest as I made the short, nervous dash from her room to mine.
As I slipped on my robe, I wondered why I was being so shy now. After all, she’d seen it all before, hadn’t she — both at Blake’s party and also last night. Maybe it was something about the cold light of day.
I felt another pang of embarrassment as I remembered just how far we’d gone. But hell, if Gina didn’t seem to mind or feel embarrassed about our, um ... thing, then maybe I shouldn’t either?
After all, I was a grown woman now. Which meant I could do what I liked.
I stepped back out of my room and headed down the hall, hearing the sizzle of bacon as I approached the kitchen. I could hear Gina softly singing to herself, too, some kind of old-fashioned show tune, and I was surprised at just how good her voice was: soft and warm, and perfectly on-pitch.
“Your coffee’s on the side,” she said, her back to me as she shook the skillet on the stove, her beautifully natural red hair shining like treacle in the bright morning sunlight.
“Thanks,” I said, lifting my mug and taking a long comforting sip, surprised at how little awkwardness there was between us. This was another thing I was learning about grown-up life, I guess: that it was actually okay to have desires and curiosities and to explore them. Because everyone did it. Everyone had their own little kinks and turn-ons, and there was nothing actually wrong with exploring them ...
“So, how are things going between you two?” Gina asked all of a sudden.
You two?
I looked over at her, confused, unsure if she was talking about me and Blake, or maybe me and my mom, or about something else completely.
“I’m sorry?” I replied.
“Between you and the famous Mr Matthews,” she clarified, turning off the hob, shaking her bacon onto a plate, then turning towards me with a sympathetic smile.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” I sighed, looking towards the window that faced into the street for a moment, unable to quite meet her eye, feeling that same familiar frustration that rose up in me, whenever I thought about Blake.
“He can be a royal pain in the ass, can’t he?” she said, warmly.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, he can,” I agreed, glad that I finally had someone I could talk to about absolutely everything.
“You want my advice?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Just enjoy the ride, but remember, baby. Blake isn’t the settling down type. You’ll never tame him. And believe me, I know.”
As she spoke her face grew serious, and without its usual covering of makeup, I could make out the little lines at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth that took hold of all women after a certain age. I wondered exactly how old she was. Late thirties? Early forties, even?
“You’re so young, baby,” she continued. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t be in such a rush to find yourself a husband and close yourself off to other possibilities. I saw your portfolio on the coffee table. You’re talented. Focus on that, and on having fun, and the right guy will fit right in, without you having to chase him.”
She took a sip of coffee, and then shook her head.
“Me?” she said. “It’s not for everyone, but I love the chase. And besides ... my talents are right here. This is all I’ve got to work with.”
At this, she gestured to her amazing chest, shown off even by that loose-fitting burgundy t-shirt.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I replied. “I heard you singing just now. You have an amazing voice ...”
“Been there, done that,” she said, smiling sadly at the thought. “I used to be a showgirl, you know that? My voice – and my legs of course – got me here from Kansas.” And with that, she kicked out her slender white legs, in true showgirl style.
“That’s what they all used to say: the men. That I had an amazing ... voice. But of course that wasn’t what they were really attracted to. Twenty years old, I got myself a nice husband. Nice and rich. Just what I’d always dreamed of back home. Anyway, he started out nice. Then came the jealousy. First, he wanted me to quit dancing, so I did. But then it got so bad that after a while, I couldn’t so much as go out for coffee with a girlfriend, without getting the third degree. In the end? I wasn’t even surprised when he hit me. But I never let him do it again. I walked straight out that day, and never came back.”
She laughed again.
“So much for my small town dreams. My heart was broken, but I did get a nice little settlement out of him, keeps me in clothes to this day. He was the one who hit me, but my name was mud all over town. He told everyone I was no better than a hooker, and everywhere I went, I could hear people whispering: gold digger. But still, there have been a few people who’ve always stuck by me. And one of those is Blake Matthews. I couldn’t face returning to the stage, and my divorce settlement wasn’t enough to cover rent, not in the kind of places I’d gotten used to living in. So Blake helped me out. I think he’s the only one smart enough to realize what an asshole my ex- was, and didn’t think I had to suffer.”
Poor Gina.
Taking abuse from online trolls was one thing, but being trash talked by the very people who were supposed to be your friends? That must have been so hard for her.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be,” she replied. “Trading on my looks is a dangerous game, but its the one I’ve chosen to play. I’ve got enough money that I can move anywhere else in the country, open a boutique, have a real nice life. But I guess I must be addicted to this city, to this world. And even with everything, all the gossip and the game-playing and the back-stabbing ... It’s still worth it.”
§
Gossip
Blake Matthews
To: Jessica
Jessica,
My PA Juliet alerted me to the NYGoss.com article. I’m assuming you’ve seen it by now, too. I know how the internet works.
I want to say how very sorry I am for draggi
ng you into this murky world. Unfortunately, gossip like this goes hand-in-hand with a position like mine. I find it difficult to escape and I’ve learnt to come to terms with it over the years. As much as I don’t like it, it’s mostly harmless and mostly fabricated.
But I can do more to protect you from this. I’ve upped my security and I will do my best to keep your name and your image out of the press from now on.
Blake
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Can I take this thing off yet?” I asked with a mixture of excitement and exasperation, desperate to yank off my blindfold and see just where in the world Blake was taking me.
“Almost there,” he replied, and while I couldn’t see his face, I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling, obviously enjoying my increasing impatience.
All I knew for sure was that we were standing in some sort of elevator, zooming upwards.
Blake had returned from Miami just a few hours ago, and after only a couple of minutes together and a single brief kiss, he’d insisted I put on this stupid blindfold – telling me that what he had in store for me was totally worth it, and then bundling me into his private car, which had been waiting outside the apartment, engine running.
As the elevator rushed us upwards, I could take it no more, reaching upwards to yank off the blindfold. But before I could do so, I felt Blake’s hands grab my wrists, tenderly but firmly moving them back down by my sides. And while he held me in place, I felt his hot lips briefly touch against my own. I tried to kiss him back, but he pulled away, leaving me gasping, more frustrated than ever.
“Patience, my dear,” he whispered.
Just then, we seemed to reach our destination, and I felt his firm hands on my shoulders, and I heard the elevator doors swoosh open, and then I felt cold air on my face.
Taming Blake (A New Adult Romance): The Complete Trilogy Page 21
