by J. D. Chase
Creeping into the kitchen, she made herself a coffee thinking how his childhood, spent with a drunken, doped-up slut of a mother must affect him more than he was prepared to admit, perhaps even to himself. She felt a rush of affection for him. She realised just how much she wanted whatever it was that was keeping him from being with her to be over.
She drank her coffee and tiptoed back into the bedroom. Xander was still fast asleep, and she couldn’t resist sneaking under the covers and snuggling up to him. He stirred and muttered, ‘My Red, missed you. Don’t leave me, please,’ as he snuggled into her. His breathing was deep and he appeared to be sound asleep. She smiled, accepting that his feelings for her mirrored her own for him, both in need and sincerity, and then drifted off to sleep with a happy heart.
Chapter Thirteen
Over the next month, Isla barely saw Xander at work, but he continued to pump as much money as he could manage into the hotel, often turning up with huge wads of cash. He was tight-lipped about where it came from and why it was in cash, but she figured that it was so it couldn’t be traced. It worried her a little, as she was now the legal owner of the business, but the cash enabled them to begin to make the changes the hotel needed to restore its former glory, albeit with a modern twist. The new signage was delivered and installed. It gave her a thrill to see the words Rouge Passion, although nobody knew of Xander’s nickname for her or that she was the legal owner. But somehow that made it even more special to her, especially when she heard staff speculating about the name. It was fortunate that the building was in very good condition and the grounds were kept immaculate by Charlie so most of the money was spent on upgrading furnishings, installing flat-screen TVs in all rooms and upgrading the Wi-Fi so that it was fast and reliable.
The largest expense was refitting the en-suite bathrooms with luxury, contemporary shower cubicles and wash basins and completely re-tiling them, so they were being completed in stages, starting with the suites and superior rooms on the second floor. Isla had successfully negotiated a deal with the restaurant next door that would enable guests to eat in the hotel’s restaurant, with the food being freshly cooked next door and then delivered via a fire exit. She’d also persuaded them to agree to them providing food as part of the room service for guests, albeit only during restaurant hours.
Once the hotel became more profitable, the aim was to re-open the kitchen and provide food in-house, but that was a long term goal. She knew they’d need to take on more non-kitchen staff once the occupancy rate increased in order to give guests the five-star service they would be paying for. Staff had been informed by Xander that she was the General Manager, and she took no time in bringing staff into line and soon earned the reputation of being passionately firm but fair.
She devised a customer feedback questionnaire, making sure the questions targeted areas of potential concern – including the professionalism of staff – and she would take up the slightest issue with them, as well as praising them generously for any improvements. As a result, there was a distinct change in the atmosphere of the hotel. Gone was the laidback, anything-is-too-much-trouble attitude, instead there was a purposeful, professional vibe that was noticeable as soon as you walked through the revolving door. Of course, Isla’s promise to staff to review the staffing structure whilst dropping blatant hints at financial recompense for high achievers may have had a lot to do with it. The most surprising change in attitude came from Belinda. Isla found that the bubbly blonde responded incredibly well to positive feedback and praise. The more Isla paid her compliments about her work, the harder she worked to impress.
She was delighted with the progress made with the building and staffing, especially since bookings were beginning to trickle in from her museum connections, particularly the nearby prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum. Advance bookings were picking up; no longer was the hotel relying on short-term, late deal bookings at three-star prices. Isla was exhausted most days, but she remained highly motivated and driven towards success.
Xander would turn up at her flat two or three evenings a week, sometimes staying over, sometimes not, but he always appeared to be desperate to see her and left her in no doubt of his urgent craving to be inside her. He always looked haggard and preoccupied when he arrived but left looking calmer and revitalised, even if they hadn’t managed to get much sleep. He’d hinted during his most recent visits that things were coming to a head and he was racing to get everything in place before that happened. He promised her that, although it would take a few months to clear everything up fully, the worst would be over and he’d be able to spend more time with her. He also promised faithfully that once it was behind him, there’d be no more secrecy or bending of the rules. She worried more and more about where he was when he wasn’t with her – and what he was getting up to. She mightn’t have asked questions about the money, but that didn’t stop her worrying about how he’d acquired it.
One night, after quite a few drinks, he’d told her that he longed to be with her but he couldn’t let that happen yet because he could never put her at risk of being hurt. He wouldn’t elaborate but kept saying he’d never intentionally hurt her, that he should have been stronger and that he should have waited. She had no idea what he was talking about and he didn’t elaborate when prompted, but she guessed that whatever was going on with his financial situation wasn’t strictly legal. She thought he was trying to keep her away from his business dealings so that she couldn’t be implicated any more than she already was. She had the hotel in her name but she had no idea why. Therefore, if Xander’s financial and legal transgressions were uncovered, her liability would be kept to a minimum. The less she knew, the less she could be held to account for Xander’s actions. She respected him for trying to protect her, which helped her to trust his judgement without question.
Then, on a sunny Saturday morning, he arrived at her flat without warning. Isla was used to that, but she wasn’t used to him turning up looking relaxed and smiley. She’d been curled up in an armchair reading a smutty book.
‘Pack an overnight bag, Red. And do it quickly. We both need a break so we’re having one,’ he announced.
‘What? Where? And what’s brought this on?’ she cried, feeling all bubbly inside.
‘I’m not telling you where yet. It’s nothing fancy so don’t get your hopes up, but it’s away from work and our home and that’s what counts. Quickly! Go! Pack! The clock’s ticking – we only have thirty six hours so don’t waste any time.’
She raced around her flat, throwing clothes and toiletries into her overnight bag with a huge grin on her face. Then, less than half an hour later, they were in his car and on their way. After a while, Isla realised where they were headed. Jamie had friends in Brighton and they would often spend weekends down there, especially during the first couple of years of their relationship, but she thought it best if she kept that from Xander. She didn’t want to spoil the surprise or taint the weekend with links to her past. Several times during the journey he bemoaned not having his beloved Holden. He resolved to track it down and buy it back as soon as he was able. Failing that, he vowed to import another.
She was thrilled when he pulled up outside the Hilton Metropole; she’d often admired the imposing Victorian red-bricked building that stood proudly on the seafront. She laughed as Xander cursed when the friendly doorman informed him that valet parking wasn’t available, forcing him to take the car to the nearby car park after they’d checked in. She found that he’d booked the suite from the day before until the following Monday, thus enabling them to check in early and check out late. Lazily, she wandered around the expansive lobby and admired the beautiful 1890s marble staircase before he re-joined her and they went up to the impressive suite that had the most gorgeous sea view.
He joined her on the balcony and wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to relax back on to him. They stood there for a few minutes, enjoying the warm summer sunshine and taking in the view until his deep, seductive voice muttered in her e
ar.
‘If you pulled your dress up, I could fuck you right here and now. You have no idea how much restraint I had to use not to fuck you the moment I walked through the door of your flat this morning. But my control is slipping . . . so choose – here or in the king-size bed, but choose quickly or I’ll choose here and now, my balls are aching like you wouldn’t believe.’
‘Much as the idea appeals to me, Xander, I think it would be respectable to wait until later when it’s dark. Then you can fuck me on the balcony, but for now we have a bedroom and a living room with a whole array of suitable locations . . . if you’re hungry you could always eat at the dining table.’
He growled and thrust his groin into her back, leaving her in no doubt of how ready he was. She tore herself away from him and raced over to the dining table. She climbed on top, hitched her dress around her waist, and waited for his reaction.
‘You dirty minx . . . why didn’t you tell me you weren’t wearing knickers? I’ve sat in that car and . . . oh fuck it!’
He closed the gap between them and buried his face in her pussy. She came quickly against his mouth, then he pulled her to the edge of the table, unzipped his fly to release his straining cock and repeatedly slammed into her. She gasped at his frenzied onslaught, but her wanton pussy loved it. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks and surrendered herself to his aggressive pace and trademark dirty talk, matching him with her own and driving him crazy with the need to empty his balls.
His hands rolled and pulled on her nipples, knowing what it did to her swollen, highly sensitive pussy then, as she neared climax, he pinched them hard and didn’t release them until her body was writhing and shaking underneath him. Her cries echoed in the air, along with a torrent of abuse that flew from her lips with ease and pushed him over the edge. He squeezed her breasts firmly as he came, his fingers leaving little blue bruises in their wake until he flopped his chest down on top of hers and told her again how much he loved to be inside her. She smiled, feeling sleepy and content, then stroked his hair as their breathing returned to normal.
‘If I’m going to be spending more time with you, and you insist on covering up my marks of passion, then we’d better go shopping. There are some lovely boutiques around here so I’m sure we can find a few items of clothing for you,’ he said suddenly.
Isla didn’t want to move anywhere but she wasn’t used to a man suggesting clothes shopping. In her experience, women moaned about men hating shopping and told tales of the lengths they’d go to not to take part in a shopping trip. Besides, she knew he was right. She loved his marks on her skin. When he wasn’t with her, they served as a constant reminder of the last time they’d been together and helped to tide her over until she got her next fix of him and his inimitable sexual behaviour.
He refused to allow her to shower or to put on some knickers. She rebelled by refusing to take off her bra and insisting that he go commando too. And, as they perused the wares of the local boutiques, she felt a secret thrill of the naughtiness of it, especially when he took every opportunity to slide his hand under her dress and either fondle her arse or caress her mound. She refused to try anything on, knowing that he was bound to follow her into the changing room and engage in some totally inappropriate act. But he managed to corner her against a circular clothes rail at the back of one boutique and finger her until she came, forcing her to contain her facial and vocal expressions – well, most of them. The shop assistant gave them a very odd look when they filed past her on their way out and Isla could have died when Xander loudly sucked his fingers as they reached the door.
They strolled leisurely along the seafront then sat outside a seafront bar and ate a late lunch, accompanied by several gin and tonics, before Xander declared it was time to return to their suite. From the glint in his eye, it didn’t take much to figure out that he was horny again. They were passing another seafront bar when Isla did a double take. Jamie was sitting with a group of his friends and, although he was wearing sunglasses, she knew that he was staring straight at her. Her feet faltered slightly, breaking her stride and forcing her hand to slip from Xander’s. He immediately stopped and asked if she was okay, narrowing his eyes and stating that she looked a little pale. She forced a smile and continued walking, telling him that she was fine. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look at him again.
They went straight to bed when they got back to the suite but Xander refused to come, stating that he was saving that for the balcony sex later. He said that she could come an extra time in place of him, and by the time he’d finished, she was incapable of rational thought or bodily function. She dozed off until he woke her, telling her it was time for dinner.
They ate in the hotel’s Waterhouse restaurant then moved to the bar and terrace and enjoyed the panoramic sea view whilst sampling the bar’s selection of fine gin. Isla smiled at a little girl who was clearly delighted with her special Mad Hatter cream tea, nudging Xander to take a look. She berated him good naturedly when he gave the impression that children did not belong in luxury hotels.
As the evening wore on, he seemed to withdraw into himself somewhat, and Isla found that they were sitting in silence for long stretches of time. There wasn’t an atmosphere exactly, but it wasn’t helped that her thoughts kept returning to Jamie. She’d been so shocked to see him – the first time she’d laid eyes on him since he’d packed his things and left. She told herself it didn’t matter, yet she couldn’t help but feel pleased that he wasn’t sat next to a female. There had been a few females in the group but none of them had large breasts so she doubted than any of them were msbigtits.
They did indeed have sex on the balcony, but it wasn’t quite what she’d imagined. Xander was still quieter than usual; he seemed to have lost his usual spark as well as his cocky demeanour. There were a few vulgar remarks, and although he was still rough with her, it was as though he was going through the motions on autopilot. As a result, or possibly as a result of her preoccupation with his mood – she didn’t know which – it took much longer for her to reach orgasm. She’d looked forward to fucking in public, something she hadn’t experienced before Xander, but she didn’t even get a thrill from that. She was too distracted; she supposed it was because she knew his mind was elsewhere.
They tumbled into bed and she got the distinct impression he was pretending to be asleep. She knew he was awake, probably thinking about whatever had been on his mind for most of the evening. She thought about asking him outright but stopped herself. She knew that he’d tell her if he wanted her to know, but she guessed that whatever he was battling through was reaching its peak. So she left him to it and tried to sleep, although that took a lot longer than she’d hoped.
*
The next morning, he was back to his usual self. It was barely dawn when she was awakened by the feel on his tongue on her pussy. She came quickly and was so turned on that when he suggested sex on the balcony, she readily agreed. As she pressed her naked body against the railings, she wondered whether he’d felt the same way about the muted balcony sex too, or whether he’d picked up that it hadn’t been what she’d hoped. He did have an uncanny knack of knowing what she was thinking.
‘Fuck, your pussy tastes good this morning. But I’m going to make it taste even better . . . which is fortunate for you, because when I’m done fucking you, you’re going to suck my cock clean.’
He fucked with her facing the sea, facing the suite and on the floor – both on her knees and on her back with her legs in the air, changing position as soon as she came. Then he stretched out and muttered, ‘Get that pussy on my cock . . . I want to watch those tits swing . . . and I want to watch you milk my cock . . . you’re never more beautiful than when you’re wrapped around my cock, screaming my name as you come hard, coating me in your delicious juices.’
She scrambled on top of him and lowered herself down quickly, prompting him to gasp and mutter, ‘Steady on, Red. Don’t break it!’
She laughed as she rose b
ut then threw her head back as she fell back on to his cock, feeling the fullness that threatened to overwhelm her. She loved his cock and what it could do to her and was quite prepared to worship it for as long as Xander would allow. But on that occasion, it didn’t take long. Her muscles clamped down on him and she rode him like a bareback rider trying to break a stallion. Her pace was so fast that he couldn’t keep up and abandoned his efforts to thrust into her. She felt his thighs tensing beneath her and his hands came up and grabbed the fleshy skin above her hips firmly as she felt his cock begin to throb inside her.
She’d managed to hold her own climax at bay and gave into it so they came together. Their voices filling the early morning silence until she slumped down on his chest, sweat dripping from her drained body. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered, ‘You are fucking amazing, Red. I can’t wait to be with you properly and irrevocably. It won’t be long, thank fuck. I can’t stand the agony of being parted from you any longer. Thank you for waiting for me. I’m a very lucky guy.’
She smiled and whispered back, ‘I’m the lucky one. And I’d wait forever for you.’
‘I had no right to ask you to wait and I didn’t think you would; I thought all men were bastards.’
She knew without looking that he was smiling. ‘Maybe you’re the exception that proves the rule.’
‘Do you always have an answer for everything?’
