Love Letters Volume 5: Exposed

by Ginny Glass, Christina Thacher, Emily Cale, Maggie Wells

  Sonia had lit some candles—a lot of candles—near the bed. The bedside lamps were on, but they didn’t cast a lot of light. She was standing next to the foot of the bed, backlit by the lamps and most of the candles. She unbuttoned her blouse, then the cuffs. It slid off her shoulders and she caught it with one hand. She laid it carefully over a chair.

  She bent to remove her trousers and socks. Dressed in nothing but a pair of panties, she looked cool from her feet to her head. Her hair was backlit so that it glowed, a flare of heat and light.

  Two thumbs, a wriggle, a shimmy and the panties joined the rest of her clothes.

  “Your turn.” She extended her hand so the fingers curled an invitation.

  “I won’t make it look so exciting,” he warned.

  “Excitement is in the eye of the beholder.”

  He shrugged. “If you say so.” He took off his jacket and undid his shirt buttons and cuffs. His T-shirt went flying. He’d already removed his boots, so the slacks and socks were the last to go. That left him in his boxers.

  Sonia grinned at him, nodding her head at an angle to remind him he wasn’t quite naked yet.

  He bent down and whisked them off. The temptation to say “Ta dah!” reminded him of his dorkiness.

  “Ooh, nice.” She came over to run her hands down his arms. “Remember the day it was surprisingly warm? The January thaw or something.” Her hands cupped his elbows loosely. She was standing close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her body.

  “Yeah.”

  “You rolled up your sleeves.” She stroked up his forearms, letting her fingernails skitter across his skin. His cock jumped a tiny bit. She leaned in close to whisper to him. “I thought your arms were so sexy.”

  “I thought your legs were sexy.”

  Her face lit up with a happy smile. “You did? I didn’t think you noticed me.”

  Really? He was about to say something sardonic about her little striptease acts, but her hands on his hips stopped him. “Ah.”

  She tugged him up against her. “I should warn you,” she murmured near his chin, “I’ve fantasized about this.”

  Adam kissed her just to still the voice in his head insisting this couldn’t be real. Him and Sonia? No matter how sweet her lips were, it was hard to believe.

  He’d had dreams like this as a teenager. He’d locked his bedroom door and let his mind and hand wander as he conjured up images of being naked with a female body soft and warm in his arms. Those fantasies had never included the sensory details he experienced now. Sonia’s aroma, the heat of her breath on his skin, the taste of her tongue playing with his lips, or the way her back felt under the flat of his hands.

  And the women he’d dated in his early twenties? Trouble was, he couldn’t remember any of them. Not with Sonia in his arms.

  He shifted the kissing to her cheek, the curl of her ear, the curve of her neck, the ridge of her shoulder. It was the dream coming true again, sort of. He bent her over his arm, kissing his way to her breasts. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. When she moaned, he switched to the other breast. She cocked a knee alongside his hip and pressed her heel into the back of his thigh.

  “The bed. We need the bed.” Her voice sounded far away.

  When he looked up, his glasses were foggy. He blinked and lifted her upright. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

  She laughed as she climbed onto the bed. “Don’t apologize. I liked it.” She kissed him as he knelt next to her. “I like you.”

  He took off his glasses. She was still blurry, but the red of her hair was all he needed in the dim light.

  She took his glasses from him, then pulled at him until he was flat on his back with her leaning over him. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “That you like me?”

  He could see her head nodding. What was the answer? And why the shift in rhythm? Suddenly, there was music in his head. “Tango,” he blurted.

  She sat back. “Excuse me?”

  “That’s the mnemonic you used in class last night. It was the way you spelled it out. ‘T—A—N, G, and—O. Slow…slow…fast, fast and…slow.’ That’s what this—” he waved a hand between them, “—feels like. A dance with a shifting rhythm.”

  She leaned over his chest, her hair trailing along his ribs. “A dance. I like that. So this is one of the slow steps, where we drive each other crazy?”

  Adam was pretty sure he’d passed “crazy” a long time ago. Her lips tickling his nipple was proof of that.

  He felt for her breasts, soft and so exquisite. He used his thumbs on her nipples, then both his thumbs and forefingers. She moved just out of his reach, the waterfall of auburn hair trailing down his midriff, his hips and thighs. She clasped his cock in one hand and he half-expected her mouth on the head. Instead, she pulled some of her hair forward in a tight bunch and used it to brush against his skin.

  Then she used her mouth.

  He leaned back on his elbows, letting his head drop back. Images of Sonia—adjusting her seams, flashing her panties at him, fondling an unseen nipple—went off in his head like fireworks. This woman, gifted in so many ways, turned out to be very, very good at oral sex. Her lips pulled at the head, then slipped down to squeeze the shaft while she sucked. She nudged his legs apart and fondled his balls.

  “Oh, God, Sonia, I want you, sweetheart. I don’t want to come like this. Let me in.”

  She swirled her tongue along his length as she lifted her head. She raised her eyes to his. Even without his glasses, he could guess at her expression. Men had started wars over women like this.

  “Condom?” he managed to say.

  “I’ll get it.” She reached past him to the bedside table. She pulled out the little drawer and grabbed a plastic square.

  He started to reach for it, but he could hear the crinkle as she tore the package open. She stroked his cock as though maybe it wasn’t hard enough. Like it could get any harder? He felt her unroll the condom. When she was done, he thought she would mount him immediately. Instead, she rolled onto her side, tugging him over to face her.

  “Change of tempo,” she said. “Time for more of the slow.”

  His turn. He slipped a finger along her slickness, gauging her readiness. He wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her, at first softly, then more passionately. When her breathing quickened, he pulled back to stroke her torso from her shoulders to her hips. Long, flat-handed strokes along the curves up and down, in and out.

  Her breathing sped up.

  He positioned himself close to the foot of the bed. Her legs parted instinctively, but he wanted more. He pushed her feet along the sheet, which raised her knees up and out.

  She moaned.

  He parted her curls and teased the coral folds. So pretty. He hoped he could do this well.

  He slipped one finger inside her. There was a spot—he felt around until she tensed. He added another finger, hoping he’d found the right spot. He looked up. Her back was arched, her head loose on her neck. Good.

  He used his tongue around her clit, glancing along the tender flesh, not going at it directly. She grabbed at the sheets with her hands.

  “More, Adam.”

  He loved that strain in her voice.

  His tongue went back to work, a little bit closer and harder on the clit. She whimpered. He licked it directly. She panted. He used the tip of his tongue to expose the head of her clit, and his lips to play with it. He tried some gentle suction. He applied more pressure with his fingers.

  She screamed and clutched at his head. Her body went rigid, then relaxed. He kissed his way, very softly, up from her cleft.

  “Time for some slow, I think.” He smiled at her face, in focus when he got close enough.

  “Mmm. I liked that.”

  Pleasure—a feeling that he’d accomplished everything—bloomed inside him. He kissed her. She lapped at his lips and chin.

  “Tastes nice.” She grinned at him.

  He re
laxed against the pillow. “Very nice.”

  “How are you doing?”

  He shifted his head. “Okay.”

  She reached down to stroke his sheathed cock. “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t gotten bored.”

  Adam considered it. It was like his arousal had been running alongside his worries about technique and such. Anyway, just having her hand on him was having a powerful effect. He flexed his shoulders, but the tension was lower…much lower.

  She laughed. “It’s time for the fast, fast part.” She didn’t let go of his cock as she shifted onto her back.

  He got onto his knees. “You’d tell me if I got the moves wrong?”

  She squeezed him, gently. “You’re doing great.”

  He caressed her hips until she opened her legs again. Even through the condom, he could feel how wet and hot she was. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensation of being enveloped in her warmth. When he was sure he was lined up perfectly, he pulled back and stroked all the way in.

  “So good.” It was like hearing a cat purr.

  He gave himself over to the joy of the moment, the heat and motion, that tickle in his brain that hinted at the flood to come. He needed to hold that at bay, keep it dammed up while he made it good for her.

  Sonia’s training as a dancer made it easy. She moved fluidly, her hips flexing in time with his. He could feel her internal muscles closing around him in perfect time. Fast, fast indeed.

  When her rhythm started to stutter, he guessed she was close to another climax. He raised up on one arm so he could feel for her clit, which he massaged with his thumb.

  “Yes! Oh, God, yes. Right there.”

  He thrust harder and faster.

  She screamed his name and he swelled with everything. Then he came.

  *

  The world had been transformed with snow by the time he woke up on Saturday. They hadn’t bothered to go out for food, or even to get dressed again. Sonia had made toasted cheese sandwiches, which they’d eaten at an antique oak table in her alcove kitchen. They snuggled in bed, laughed when the weather man predicted “snowmageddon,” blew out all the candles and discovered each other in the darkness.

  The studio was still dark when he realized he needed the bathroom. He slipped out of bed and, using his body to shield her from the light, lifted the side of the curtain to see out. White and still. All the parked cars were mounded with snow, Park Street appeared little used, and only one guy was outside shoveling. Oh, and it was still snowing. For once, the meteorologist’s hype may have been warranted.

  Adam got back from the bathroom and slipped under the covers, still warm from their body heat. Replaying everything they’d done, he still couldn’t wrap his brain around being naked in bed with Sonia, his partial erection poking her in the hip. Awfully-awkward Adam in bed with super-sophisticated Sonia.

  He remembered hiring her. She had excellent references from the temp agency, seemed mature for her age—which wasn’t listed on her résumé, but he guessed was around twenty-seven—and even got excited by the slightly bohemian nature of their business. Ha. Bohemian, that was a joke.

  Dave had worked for a bigger agency in Boston when Edie landed a teaching position at USM. He’d talked Adam into starting their own agency together, using some money Adam inherited from his grandmother. It was a perfect solution for Adam. He didn’t fit many people’s idea of the hip and trendy marketing genius. That wasn’t his strength. He was good with the technical parts of advertising. Dave, who was dark and dangerous-looking—not at all the type to have a toddler and first-grader at home—did better with those clients who’d watched too many episodes of Mad Men. Adam, who looked like he should have roman numerals after his name and a cliché nickname like “Trip” or “Chaz,” actually came from a solidly geeky home. His dad was an engineer and his mother a biologist.

  Starting A+D had seemed risky at the time, but the gamble paid off. After six months they’d been able to pay themselves modest salaries. After a year, they had even been able to hire a temp office manager.

  Enter Sonia. What did he know about her? Bachelor’s in English, editorial assistant to a struggling poetry journal, two years as an administrative assistant to an accountant, then the temp agency. Did she have an ex? A handful of exes? How could she not? She was…words failed him. She was Sonia.

  “You’re very quiet.” She leaned up on her elbow, her hair a mess, her eyes smudged with sleep.

  “Just thinking.”

  “Tell me as soon as I get back, okay?” She made a dash for the bathroom, all pale limbs and a vague glow of red-ember hair.

  She opened the curtains in the kitchen on her way back. That lit the main room enough for them to see clearly.

  “Crazy about the snow, huh?” She climbed in beside him, tucking her body in with a little shiver.

  “Snowmageddon,” he said with arched eyebrows.

  She giggled. Her eyes narrowed. “So, what were you thinking about for so long?”

  “How did you know I was thinking?”

  She tilted her head like he was a slightly dim child. “I woke up when you got up, silly.”

  “Oh.”

  Her hand came out from under the covers, rolling at the wrist, encouraging him to get on with the answer.

  “Just thinking how little I know about you.” As soon as the words were out, he worried she’d be pissed off.

  “Fair enough,” she said mildly. “I’m a middle child. I studied dance for my entire childhood but I don’t know—” She shrugged. “You have to be really good and really lucky to make it in ballroom dancing. I was losing ground on both scores against my age group, so finally I admitted I needed to do something different. I actually like my job.”

  “It’s not too lowly, given that you are a college grad?”

  She shook her head against the pillow. “It’s fun. You guys are funny and great to work with. And, of course, I had a wild crush on you.”

  He felt the heat crawling up from his neck to his ears and cheeks. “No way.”

  She nodded vigorously. “Uh-huh. You think I’d want some Latin Lothario type—”

  “Like your partner, Tom.”

  “Who’s gay, by the way.”

  “Oh.”

  She leaned in to kiss the end of his nose. “You really don’t see it, do you? You’re like catnip to me. Seriously good-looking, shy but funny, really talented. I just about cream my panties every time you and Dave start joking around at the coffee machine.”

  “Wow.”

  “Indeed.” She grinned widely. “You, Adam Kennedy, are a total hottie.”

  He flopped back on the bed. “Total hottie?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud. He was a total hottie, at least according to the most beautiful woman he’d ever met?

  “Now.” She climbed over to lie half on his body. “How about some wake-up sex, some breakfast, then we go play in the snow.”

  “Wake-up sex? Is that even a thing?”

  “Just like ‘make-up sex’ only without the fighting.” Her eyes twinkled at him.

  “I thought I was the funny one,” he teased.

  “I’ve been taking lessons.” She pulled him in for a kiss.

  *

  The following Thursday, Dave left at the normal time. Adam made no effort to keep working, preferring to watch Sonia at her desk. He propped his chin in one palm. When she looked over, he mimicked a bored movie patron eating popcorn, like Get on with the show already.

  She raised her eyebrows in an exaggeration of horrified surprise. Who me?

  He laughed. A real laugh, with noise.

  Her head disappeared under her desk, then reappeared. She had a soft-sided overnight bag in her hand. That must have her dance class clothes.

  This should be good. He leaned back with his arms crossed, a smug grin on his face. Then he changed his mind. He walked over to the door to his office. Better view from over here.

  She
stood, unzipped the bag and pulled out each item. Stockings folded flat and safe in a zip-top plastic bag. Shoes emerged from a cloth sack. Her skirt and top—he recognized them from the first time he’d watched her play with her stockings—were laid over the edge of her desk. Finally, underwear.

  Dry mouth—Nature’s way of reminding you how hot this show is.

  Next came the striptease. She wasn’t even pretending this was anything other than erotic foreplay. He’d watched her get dressed that morning, so he knew what to expect under her top and skirt.

  Or he thought he did. When she’d finished undoing all the tiny buttons down the front of her terracotta knit top, the plain white satin bra he expected to see had been replaced with a sheer white number that showed everything. Those luscious nipples surrounded by rosy circles of flesh.

  He drew in a shuddering breath as she licked her right forefinger, got it really damp, and ran it over the peak of one of those jutting breasts. Then she licked the thumb and squeezed.

  Oh, God, that… He didn’t have words. His arms were crossed so she couldn’t see his clenched fists. If he didn’t keep white-knuckling through this part, he would be reaching for his cock. Nothing wrong with that, it just wasn’t how he wanted this scene to end.

  She finished playing with her nipples and started to remove her skirt and tights. He braced for the sight of a thong or something, but no, she surprised him again. She wasn’t wearing panties.

  He pressed his lips tight between his front teeth to keep from laughing.

  The bra came off and she was nude. Six days—and nights—and he still had trouble believing this woman wanted to be with him. Amazingly, she saw him as adorable and funny. And good in bed. She’d said so.

  She slithered into the thong he’d assumed she had on, then a black lace bra that appeared joined by a thread in between her breasts. He stopped looking at her body. Her face mesmerized him. Where before he’d seen her striking good looks, now he saw her quirky smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, the fan of russet lashes on her cheeks while she slept.

  “Well?” Her voice broke his reverie.

  She was dressed for class. He thought back to how sexy she’d looked just a month before—sexy, cool and perfect for some other guy.