by Xondra Day
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2011 Xondra Day
ISBN: 978-1-926950-17-4
Cover Artist: LF Designs
Editor: Caitlin Ray
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
For the one love in my life. I'll love you forever and a day...
Power Play
Xondra Day
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
“Damn it,” muttered Daria Desmond, quickening her pace along the sidewalk. Silently she cursed the Jimmy Choo’s which adorned her feet as she slid along, fighting to stay upright, ice and slush working its way between her toes causing her to cringe with every well thought out step.
Thrusting one hand in the air, Daria waved to an oncoming cab. It was useless, he sailed right on past, as if he didn’t see her standing there waving at him like a loon.
New York City. She’d formed a love-hate relationship with the place she’d learned to call home. Most of the year she dealt with the hustle and bustle. It was a part of living in the city. But now, with the Christmas season approaching, everything went up at least five notches on her annoyance scale.
Jumping slightly, once again fighting to stay upright, Daria swore she’d be more practical from now on when picking out shoes. She felt her cell phone vibrate in her bag and whilst clinging to a nearby light pole, she managed to retrieve it and subsequently flick it open to see who was texting her.
Daria grinned, reading the text message. It was Rita Herron, her closest friend, wondering where she was. Rita was bold and brash at the best of times, but a true friend when desired and required. Daria admired both those qualities and the woman herself.
With one hand, Daria managed a quick reply, texting that she’d be at Sebastien’s within ten minutes. With three blocks left to go, she crossed her fingers hoping she wouldn’t have a tumble somewhere along the way.
Daria stopped in her tracks before entering Sebastien’s. Checking herself in the glass door, she paused to take a deep breath before stepping inside. Her pulse quickened, small beads of perspiration formed on her brow.
From across the vast expanse of Sebastien’s, Daria spotted Rita who waved to her, catching her immediate attention.
“Your coat,” said the maitre d’. “I’ll check it for you before escorting you to your table.”
After he had helped her with her chair, Daria dismissed him with one hand. “Bring us your best champagne,” she ordered.
“Your waiter will be along shortly", he replied, his voice curt. “I don’t take orders.”
“Then you can pass it on.” Daria flashed him an icy look, then brought her gaze to Rita. “Customer service, I swear it doesn’t exist anymore.”
Rita smirked. Rita, who at almost forty didn’t look a day past twenty-eight, thanks to a superior plastic surgeon. Rita who could well afford anything she wanted in life. “My dear, you’re in a downright snit today. What’s gotten into you?”
“I couldn’t get a cab. I had to walk three blocks in that mess in shoes that weren’t very practical. Remind me from this day onward to put personal comfort ahead of fashion.”
Rita laughed. “Right. So says the woman who has more shoes than Saks. Speaking of Saks, they’re having a fabulous sale later this week. We’ll have to go of course.”
“It could be a great opportunity to do some holiday shopping. I’ve yet to do any. Tom thinks this year we should do away with it all and take off for somewhere exotic. Sadly, I don’t think the magazine could do without their editor for two weeks. The job can be so taxing. There are times when I wish I could just walk away from it.”
“Don’t we all. But this time of year it would be suicide.”
“I’ll have to make it up to him,” sighed Daria. “I’m sure I can think of a way…”
Rita nodded, agreeing. “I have the kids to think of. It’s really about the kiddies. If I didn’t have them, I’d go for Tom’s suggestion myself. It’s all so trite; the commercialism alone makes me sick. Everywhere you look it’s there in your face. Talk about being overdone to the extreme. Even this place—why it looks like Christmas threw up in here. I remember when I was just a young girl, being excited when I knew that Santa was coming. Back then, we all believed in him. Mother would be baking while Father would be in charge of picking out the most perfect tree. I cherish those memories.”
Daria had heard the story a dozen times, but she still smiled, listening to Rita relay the tale.
“Christmas was never much of anything for me growing up. It was just another holiday, nothing special,” explained Daria. If only Rita had known her past, her childhood. It had been one foster home after another. And while she settled into the routine of moving around, she felt she never managed to fit in. For the people that took her in it all about the money and the last thing they had on their minds was love.
It still hurt when she thought back to those times. Perhaps that was the reason she had developed her shell over the years. A shell meant protection. A shell was hard to crack and so was she.
Through the years she learned to be assertive, to go for the gold. And in turn she, for the most part, always came out on top.
To her right, a waiter appeared.
“Two garden salads with raspberry dressing on the side please. Oh, and in case it didn’t get passed on by the maitre d’, a bottle of your best champagne.” Their order never changed. “We'll decide on dessert later, if at all.”
He nodded while jotting down their order and was off.
“Gay?” asked Rita, her head poised so she could size him up as he walked away. He was young and very handsome.
“The best looking ones always are.” Daria scanned the room, her eyes roving from table to table, until she saw the man across the room.
Daria estimated that he was in his early to mid forties, telltale signs of grey speckled through his otherwise coal-black hair. Her eyes fell to his suit, superbly cut, most definitely designer. Just when she was about to look away, he caught her gaze and held it. She was the first to break when he smiled, her face flushed.
Regaining her composure and careful not to make anything obvious, Daria attempted to stir the conversation with Rita. “I heard the grilled salmon is wonderful here. We should try it sometime.”
“I hate fish,” replied Rita. “You know that.” She added a look of disgust. “I’ll stick to what I always have. I’m watching my weight.”
Rita perpetually watched her weight.
The mysterious stranger, which is what she had already dubbed him in her mind, kept staring at her and grinning, catching her attention and making it very hard to concentrate on her conversation with Rita.
“I have to go to the ladies room.” Daria excused herself while Rita just nodded once and went on to examine the cutlery for cleanliness. “I won’t be long.”
Forging her way past the mysterious stranger, Daria slowed somewhat passing his table. He was alone. This time she was the one to make eye contact, adding a smile for good measure. And when he stood and followed her, her heart skipped a beat. She anticipated what was to come.
Once inside the ladies room, Daria stood in front of the large mirror reapplying her lipstick, fussing with her hair until she felt strong arms entwine around her waist. The stranger had arrived.
>
He pulled her back toward him with a force that made her gasp, his strength exciting her, causing her pulse to quicken.
“Third stall,” she ordered, his hands already cupping her breasts.
Inside the stall, Daria locked the door as the mystery man's fingers found the buttons in her silk blouse. One by one they unclasped.
“Damn,” he muttered. “You’re one fine looking piece of sexiness.” His hands cupped her heaving breasts, thumbing the black lace which encased them. “Very nice, I can’t help but wonder if you’re wearing matching panties?”
Daria grabbed his face, her fingers grazing the dark stubble adorning his jaw. A wry grin crept across her lips. “Then I guess you’ll have to get down there and find out for yourself.” Leaning back onto the toilet, she thrust her hips out, hiking her black skirt high above her slender hips.
“Just as I thought,” he replied, falling to his knees, slipping on hand inside the flimsy fabric.
Daria felt her moist lips part, the mysterious stranger’s fingers working wonders on her, manipulating her in all the right places, then his tongue. Grasping the back of his head, she pulled him into her, his hot breath, her clit equating pure ecstasy.
“Oh my,” she said with a sigh, biting down on her bottom lip. His tongue was something special. She whimpered with every lap of his tongue, always careful to not make too much noise. The last thing she needed was to get caught in this most precarious situation.
“That’s it, just like that.” She gasped when he inserted two fingers, his tongue flicking her throbbing clit.
“You like that, you little vixen. I knew you were a wild one from the first moment I spotted you from across Sebastien’s.”
“Oh yes,” Daria replied. Glancing downward, she stifled a gasp when she caught a glimpse of his huge, thick cock popping from the opening in his trousers, which he stroked with his free hand.
Grinding her hips down on his double digits, she hoped his cock would feel just as good pummeling her pussy.
The thought of him sliding his cock inside her was overwhelming. And when he slid her panties to the floor, she pulled him upwards, grasping his cock with both her hands.
“Suck it,” he ordered.
He tensed when her tongue found him. Up and down, she savored every inch, her tongue lingering on his cockhead. Down again, this time she choked slightly on his vast length. Of course the female voice outside the stall, calling to her didn’t help either.
“Daria, are you there?”
It was Rita.
Together, they froze in place. Daria withdrew the mysterious stranger’s cock from her mouth. A humorous look passed between the two.
“I’m here,” replied Daria.
“Goodness, you’ve been gone forever. I thought something may have happened to you. Are you ok?” The concern that Rita felt was obvious in the tone of her voice.
“I’m fine.” Daria searched her mind for a suitable excuse. “I just need a few more minutes and I’ll be out.”
“Should I wait?” Daria knew that Rita was occupied looking into the mirror, checking herself, not noticing the two pairs of feet sticking out from under the stall.
“No Rita. Go back to the table and make sure the champagne is properly chilled when it arrives. I won’t be much longer.” Daria waited for a reply but instead heard the door latch shut as Rita left.
“Sit,” she ordered, forcing the sexy stranger down onto the toilet. I don’t have much time and I want you to fuck me before I leave.”
With precise aim, Daria guided him into her slickness as she straddled over him. This time it was he who bit his bottom lip in ecstasy.
Daria felt his hands on her breasts, manhandling them through the black lace.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he said, thrusting deep into her. “Every man’s fantasy, and then some.”
“Hard and fast,” she ordered. “I have to get back to my table or she’s likely to return again.”
“Your wish is my command,” he replied with a grunt.
Together they formed a rhythm. Meeting his every thrust with one of her own, Daria ground down, taking him deeper into her hot pussy.
A few moments passed and then she felt it, surging through her, that tingling internal sensation. Daria craved it, feeling it rise, supreme hotness intermingled with a most pleasurable pressure. If anyone should walk in now, she was too far gone to even give a damn.
“I’m going to come,” announced the mysterious stranger, slamming into her.
Daria’s nipples throbbed, her clit burned with desire. And then it came, flooding, washing over her, quaking and rattling every delicious nerve ending. It was over.
In a flash, they both dressed and with a few brief words, said good-bye to one another.
Back at the table Rita looked anxious as Daria took a seat.
“It’s about time. The food’s come. It’s a good thing we didn’t order anything hot.”
“Oh never mind. I’m fine now. I was feeling a tad off but it’s passed.” Daria took a forkful of salad. “Fabulous, as always.”
****
The rest of the day passed without event. And when Daria had finished up for the day at the magazine she made her way home.
Tom greeted with a kiss when she entered the condo. “How was lunch with Rita?”
“Same old same old.” Daria kicked off her Jimmy Choo’s, a sign of relief escaping as her feet relaxed. “You should try Sebastien’s some time. The food’s great.”
“The guys at the office keep telling me that. Did you see anyone interesting?”
“No one of importance,” replied Daria. She dropped her bag to the floor next to her shoes. It was good to be home. “Just the same faces.” She smiled, linking her arm into his.
Together they walked down through the hallway on into the living room, each taking a place on the large sofa.
Tom moved toward her, one hand sliding to her side. “If I might say, you’re looking mighty sexy this evening.”
Daria giggled. “I work with what I got. What can I say…”
“And you have much to work with, lady.” Tom grinned and reached for the buttons on her blouse. The outline of his hard cock thickened inside his black trousers. The throbbing, straining mound left very little to the imagination.
“Why Tom, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you are a tad horny,” teased Daria.
“Can you blame me? You do this to me.”
Daria chuckled. “And just think what else I can do.” She grabbed and tugged Tom to her.
“Bed… now,” he demanded. “I want you, I need you. I want to lick you from head to toe and all points in between.”
Shedding her clothes along the path to their bedroom, she paused. Tom was already waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “By the way, you were fabulous today, my sexy mysterious stranger.”
Tom laughed. “Then I did a good job?”
“When I came, I saw stars.”
“Then let’s make it a repeat performance, my beautiful sexy wife.” Tom pulled her to the bed.
A repeat performance? She was fast becoming a pro. During the past few weeks of their newfound exploration she’d learnt a lot.
“Fuck me Tom,” begged Daria bending over, reaching back to expose her pink pussy.
Tom did as he was told.
“Remember what Doc Roberts said in counseling. Variety is the spice of life.”
“It’s homework with a twist,” said Tom, adding a grin. “Only school was never this good.”
****
“That one.” Daria pointed to one specific photo from a pile of headshots, which lay strewn across her desk. “I like that model's look. He has something unusual about him. It’s just what I want for this layout. And this one—the redhead. Call the agency and have them both come around tomorrow.”
Pushing the rest of the photos to the side, Daria proceeded to look over sketches for the upcoming fall fashion season. It was the one part of the job she
loved, getting previews from all of her favorite designers. Daria went through each sketch, one by one saying either “This is gorgeous,” or “Oh, I don’t like that!” or “Surely she’s not serious, no one in their right mind would ever wear that.”
Angela, her assistant stood to her side, nodding and taking notes. “I agree, Daria. That was so last year, and even then it didn’t work for her.”
“Last year indeed. We have to be on top, always on top. Our magazine is known for being fresh and now. We start the trends, we don’t follow them. We don’t accept anything less than perfection.” It was true for both her personal life, and her career.
“I was just about to say all that,” echoed Angela, toying with the tip of her pen.
Daria held back a smirk. She intimidated the hell out of Angela.
“You may go Angela. Close the door on your way out.” Daria motioned to the door with one hand. “I have work to do.”
Once the door had shut, Daria was quick to lock it.
A muffled cry brought a wicked grin to her face as she turned, her back now flat against the door.
Daria went to the bathroom located just off her office, opening the door. “Oh dear, I almost forgot about you. It’s a good thing you didn’t make any noise when my assistant was here. Otherwise the punishment for that would be quite severe.”
A man, no older than twenty-one looked up at her, his eyes wide with fear and desire. Both his hands and feet were bound and a ball gag had been secured in his mouth. He struggled, but the act was futile.
“I’ll have to thank the service personally for sending over such a hot, young specimen. You’re delightfully delicious.” Daria paused, thinking. Falling to her knees, Daria bent over further to get close to the young man’s ear. “You see, I like to play games and so does my husband. My games are a bit out of the norm for him at times. I like to be in control—it soothes me.”
The young man grunted and struggled more. Daria reached out and stroked his cheek. “There’s no need for that. I only bite when provoked and you’ll get paid handsomely if you choose to indulge me. The service did say you were into kink.”
