The Player Gets Coached

by Janet Nissenson

  She sucked in a breath when he entered her for the first time, though he was careful not to thrust all the way in. Finn kept his hands on her inner thighs, continuing to hold them apart as he gradually worked his cock a little further inside of her vagina. When he was all the way in, he held himself still for several seconds, making sure she was ready for what would come next.

  “Nice and easy, babe,” he soothed, his initial thrusts long and slow, allowing her to get used to this position, where she could have easily felt too exposed or vulnerable. Instead, because he was taking so much care with her, Delilah felt cherished and protected, aware that Finn was intentionally holding back for her benefit.

  She slid her palms up his body to rest on his leanly muscled shoulders, then pulled him close enough that her breasts were crushed against his chest. “Harder,” she whispered in his ear. “Do me harder now. I need more and so do you.”

  “Delilah.”

  He uttered her name softly but harshly, then took her lips in a blistering kiss, his tongue relentless as it circled the inside of her mouth. Her tongue joined in the fray, tangling with his as the kiss deepened, then threatened to quickly flare out of control.

  Finn’s hands slid beneath her buttocks then, lifting her slightly off the counter as he gradually increased the force and rapidity of his thrusts. She bit down on the inside of her mouth once or twice when his cock rammed against the tip of her womb a little too hard, determined not to cry out for fear he’d take it easy on her. And the last thing she wanted right now was sweet, slow sex. Not when he’d already aroused her into a near frenzy, when the sight of their bodies moving almost violently against each other as they fucked mindlessly was easily the most erotic thing she had ever seen.

  “This feels so fucking good,” groaned Finn. “Nothing like it in the world, baby. But I can’t hold back much longer, so wrap those gorgeous legs around me and hold on tight.”

  She obeyed without a word, entwining her legs around his waist before tightening her grip around his neck. His thrusts became more forceful, hard enough to bend her backwards over the counter until her head touched the mirror. Her legs spread even wider as he leaned further over her, far enough for his chest to graze her nipples.

  “Come for me now, babe. Let me hear it. Scream my name,” he urged, using his thumb to stimulate her clitoris as he continued to pound inside of her body unceasingly.

  And scream she did, calling out alternately to Finn and then to some unknown deity, sobbing and cursing and crying out wordlessly as she came and came and came, one orgasm rippling into the next, the intensity building with each one.

  “Holy fuck!” yelled Finn, his body bucking savagely as he climaxed, his torso almost crushing her ribcage, his hips continuing to piston rapidly even after he was empty, drained dry.

  Delilah was too shaky, too dazed, to move for a few minutes afterwards, even as she felt Finn gently cleaning her up, rubbing a dampened wash cloth between her legs and up along her torso.

  She didn’t resist when he lifted her carefully off the counter and set her back on her feet, but she held up a hand in warning as he would have swooped in for another kiss.

  “No way,” she reprimanded, taking several steps away from him. “Don’t forget I’ve seen you do this before, mister. And I know how greedy you can be once you get started. We’ve only got half an hour now before the party starts, and we’re already going to be late. So take your sexy butt out of here and let me finish my makeup.”

  He grinned at her unapologetically, wiggling his ass as he did so. “You think my butt is sexy, huh?”

  Delilah threw the used washcloth at him, smiling wickedly when it hit him smack in the chest. “You know I do, you idiot. Every part of you is sexy. And you can tempt me to do most anything you dream up, even if it’s a little on the raunchy side.”

  Finn’s grin deepened suggestively. “Ah, but from my experience, the raunchy times are the one you like best. And the times you scream the loudest. You know, I had trouble deciding whether to fuck you the way I just did, or have you bend over the counter and stick your cute little ass up in the air. I think we’ll have just enough time to - ”

  She snatched up the metal wastebasket from beneath the counter, holding it over her head. “This is the next thing that’s going to get tossed your way,” she threatened. “And unlike the washcloth this will definitely leave a bruise.”

  He held up his hands in surrender and began to back out of the master bathroom. “Okay, okay. We’ll save that idea for later tonight. I’ll use the smaller bathroom to finish getting ready. And there’s no rush, babe. In fact, given how much you’re not looking forward to this evening, I’d think you’d be intentionally stalling for time.”

  Delilah sighed, picking up the discarded blusher brush. “The thought had occurred to me,” she admitted. “But I also hate being late to anything. It’s not very good manners, you know. I’ll be ready in time, I promise. Good thing we’re staying in the same hotel as the party and just have to take the elevator down a few floors.”

  Finn blew her a kiss as he exited the bathroom, leaving her to finish her makeup and get dressed, both of which she was going to have to accomplish in near record time thanks to her lover’s untimely horniness.

  But it was almost impossible to be irritated with Finn over his impulsive seduction, given how damned good she felt right about now. She applied another coat of mascara, a sensuous smile playing about her lips as she recalled just how hard he’d made her come a few minutes ago, and how easily she’d succumbed to his wiles. That was something that had rarely if ever happened with her previous lovers. She had always enjoyed being in control, had needed to be the one in charge most of the time, and while Finn frequently indulged that need, it seemed to Delilah that more and more as of late he was the one exerting his dominance over her in the bedroom.

  Her smile turned into a frown as she tweezed a couple of stray eyebrows before using a pencil to give them a more dramatic look. While there was no use in denying the way Finn always gave her tremendous pleasure - unselfishly so, at that - what gave her cause for concern was the fact that she was actually starting to like giving up control. And that, she thought firmly, could simply not be allowed to happen, at least not as much as it had been as of late. With a man like Finn in particular - one who liked sex, a lot of sex - she needed to be sure he didn’t start becoming complacent in their relationship. Delilah only had to think about her parents’ ill-fated marriage to realize that when a man started to take a woman for granted was right around the time he started getting bored with her. From there, it would only be a matter of time before he wanted something new, and before the woman was even aware of what was happening, she’d find herself being unceremoniously dumped to make room for her replacement.

  Well, that was sure as hell never going to happen to her, thought Delilah fiercely. She was not her mother, not by a long shot, and would never, ever permit herself to become so weak and dependent on a man that she would lose the very will to live if he ever left her. No man was worth that sort of pain, she decided, no matter how hot he looked naked or how skilled he was with his tongue and fingers, or how many different sexual positions he knew. Finn was going to have to learn that she was not the sort of woman who could be manipulated by sex, and she came to the decision right then and there that the next time they had sex she was going to be back on top.

  She finished her makeup, using blotting paper to wipe off any excess lipstick, and then put her lingerie back on. Delilah thought tartly that she ought to at least be grateful that Finn had taken her bra and panties off before getting her all hot and bothered, especially since she’d only packed one strapless bra in her luggage. Given the style of the dress she’d chosen to wear tonight, a regular bra just wouldn’t do.

  She had designed this particular cocktail dress with tonight’s party in mind, sewing it up herself in her home studio. It had taken her endless hours to painstakingly affix all of the sparkling
red beads and glittering stones to the halter necked bodice, but the effort had been well worth it, she decided now. The bodice fit like a glove, the deep cut of the neckline showcasing her breasts splendidly without being too revealing. The waistline of the dress nipped in tightly, allowing the red chiffon skirt to flow gracefully to a point several inches above the knee. The sexy but sophisticated dress left most of her back bare, and she was glad she’d put in some extra hours at the gym focusing on her lats and shoulders.

  Delilah rarely wore hosiery, and especially not when it was almost ninety degrees outside, so she’d made sure her bare legs were smoothly shaven and had a bit of color from some self-tanning body lotion. She’d squeezed in a mani-pedi yesterday afternoon before Finn had picked her up to go to the airport, and her toes were painted the same ruby shade as her fingers. She sat down on the edge of the bed gingerly, careful not to wrinkle her dress as she buckled the straps of her favorite red stiletto sandals.

  The jeweled bodice of the dress meant that she didn’t have to go overboard with additional jewelry, so she merely slipped on a gold bangle bracelet and then inserted a pair of ruby and diamond drop earrings that had belonged to her mother.

  “Somehow I just knew you’d be wearing red tonight.”

  Delilah glanced up from retrieving her red satin clutch to see Finn hovering in the doorway to the master bedroom, his green gaze glittering as he looked her over approvingly.

  “I’d say that you were psychic or something, but you already know that red is my favorite color,” she quipped. “And you must have guessed I’d be wearing red since your tie is the same color. Nice suit, by the way. Remind me to compliment whoever helped you pick it out.”

  He snickered, placing a hand on the small of her back as they headed towards the front door of their suite. “That would be my drop-dead gorgeous neighbor who has amazing taste in just about everything - clothes, interior design, food, wine, flowers. And especially men.”

  She inspected him carefully, straightening his perfectly knotted red silk tie, then smoothing the lapels of his charcoal gray suit before patting a stray lock of his carefully combed dark blond hair back into place. “You look really handsome, Finn,” she told him sincerely. “Sophisticated, stylish, and really, really sexy. Every woman at this party tonight is going to have her tongue hanging out when they get a look at you. Though if they know what’s good for them they’ll keep their distance. There’s a reason I wore the shoes with the extra pointy heel.”

  Finn slid his arm around her waist, hugging her close against his side. “Bloodthirsty little she-devil,” he teased. “And since I’ve felt the wrath of your stiletto on my own foot, I’ll make sure to warn off these so-called other women. Though, honestly, babe, they’re going to take one look at you, know they can’t possibly begin to compete with someone so beautiful, and find other fish to fry. And it goes without saying,” he added, nuzzling his nose against her ear, “that you’re the only one in the whole place I’ll have my eyes on. You look incredible, Delilah. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone. Come on, now. We’re already going to be fashionably late.”

  She groaned as he ushered her out the door of their suite. “How about we give it a miss altogether? Though I suppose the sooner we arrive the sooner we can leave. Right?”

  He hesitated before replying. “I certainly don’t plan on closing the party down. But the hosts are one of my biggest sponsors, and they’ll be expecting me to hobnob with the other guests. We aren’t just going to be able to put in an appearance and then duck out the side door after thirty minutes.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She exhaled sharply. “So I’ll do my part and act like the loyal, supportive girlfriend while sipping expensive champagne and eating all of the appetizers.” She glanced up at Finn anxiously as they reached the elevators. “They will have champagne, won’t they? I mean, I realize it’s a vodka brand, but not everyone drinks vodka.”

  “Yes, there will definitely be a full bar,” assured Finn. “And way more than just appetizers, too. There’s usually a whole spread, big buffet, the works.”

  She nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, then. So long as there’s good booze and plenty of food, and you stick to my side like glue, then I guess I can gut it out for a few hours. But don’t ever say that I’m not a good sport, Finn McManus. Big parties like this are just not my thing, so I’m doing this for you. And I’ll expect something in return, of course.”

  He laughed as the elevator began to descend to the ballroom level. “Of course. Anything you want, babe, just name it and it’s yours.”

  “Okay,” she agreed happily. “I want to be on top the next time. Oh, and for the next two weeks after that.”

  Finn shook his head in mock exasperation. “Somehow I knew you were going to ask for that. Okay. You drive a tough bargain, but you’ve got a deal.”

  “Tough bargain, my ass,” retorted Delilah. “Don’t forget that you get your rocks off no matter if I’m on top, the bottom, or upside down.”

  His green eyes twinkled roguishly. “In other words, it’s really a win-win situation for me. Ah, here we are.”

  Delilah mentally braced herself for what was about to happen, knowing that no matter what she owed it to Finn to be supportive and put on a happy face. He’d been so good to her, she reasoned, so attentive and accommodating. He willingly let her pick where she wanted to go for dinner, or what movie she wanted to see - within reason, of course. He had gone along with just about every suggestion she’d made when it came to re-decorating his condo, or buying new clothes. And he was making a real effort to learn more about wines and food, experimenting with cooking, and even succeeding in not burning down the house in the process. He looked after her when she was exhausted after working a fourteen hour day, making sure she ate well, and giving her the most delicious foot rubs she’d ever experienced. He had charmed just about every employee in her office, especially when he surprised everyone with boxes of donuts or macarons or bagels, and he even tolerated Calvin’s outrageous flirting. He had even, realized Delilah wryly, managed to win Desiree’s grudging approval, though her sister had informed her that the jury was still out on the final judgment.

  So she needed to suck it up for a few hours, and put on a happy face. After all, she reasoned, she’d been raised to have impeccably good manners, had started attending social events from a young age, and attending a party with her boyfriend should be a piece of cake.

  But over the next two hours, Delilah’s resolve about how easy this evening was going to be began to dissolve rapidly. She hated crowds and noise and people who drank too much and put on all sorts of pretentious airs. And to have to deal with all four of those issues at the same time was beginning to overwhelm her. The fact that she hadn’t seen Finn for the last twenty minutes or so was only making things worse, not to mention seriously pissed off.

  Oh, it had started off well enough, with Finn proudly introducing her to the owners of Volcano Vodka - two thirty-something men who were dressed a little too flamboyantly for Delilah’s taste, especially considering each had a beautiful woman plastered to their side. But the men - Trace and Braden - had been exceedingly charming, gushing over Delilah, and telling her how she was all Finn could talk about nowadays. Even their two rather annoying companions had been almost sickly sweet, oohing and ahhing over Delilah’s dress and shoes, and looking appropriately dismayed when they realized their five foot seven frames were several inches too tall for her line of petite sized clothing.

  There had been champagne as promised - Cristal, to boot - and table after table heaped with food. Delilah had nibbled hungrily at the lavish spread, though she’d noted she was practically the only female present who actually seemed to be eating anything beyond a carrot stick or a slice of melon.

  Finn was a veritable master at working a room, something she’d realized right from the start. He was what was referred to as a “people person”, someone everyone liked and who liked everyone in turn. Delilah quickly
lost count of the number of hands he shook, backs he clapped, hugs he exchanged, and kisses on the cheek he received and bestowed. And while Finn seemed to remember almost everyone’s name, greeting them like old friends, her mind seemed to go blank within half an hour after arriving. Her jaw and cheeks were sore from smiling so much, and she shuddered delicately at the mingled scents of dozens of different perfumes and colognes that clung to her skin, courtesy of all the hugs and kisses she’d received.

  And even though Finn had been true to his word - at least, to begin with - by sticking to her side like glue, Delilah hadn’t missed even one of the poisonous, envious looks directed her way by most of the females in attendance. She guessed that most of these women had either fucked Finn at some point in time, or had aspired to, and the fact that she was now being introduced as his girlfriend was not sitting well with any of them.

  To Finn’s credit, he hadn’t so much as flirted with another woman while in Delilah’s presence, merely greeting them politely and then quickly moving on to the next group of attendees. Delilah had been sorely tempted to quiz him about all of the evil glares she was being subjected to, asking him how many of those women he’d actually slept with. But she was far too well bred to start a conversation like that in such a public setting, not to mention the fact that she really, really didn’t want to know the answer. What made her speculations even worse was that Finn probably didn’t even remember if he’d actually taken some of these women to bed or not.

  She had been politely listening to one of the more elderly guests in attendance drone on and on about a trip he had recently taken to South America when Finn had been whisked away by Braden and his girlfriend. Finn had given her a reassuring wink, as if to say he’d be right back, but that had been close to half an hour ago by now and he hadn’t made any attempt to return to her side. Instead, she’d silently fumed as he had continued to shake hands and chat companionably with one guest after another, laughing and posing for photos, and always with a drink in his hand.