Summer Loving

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Summer Loving Page 17

by Lise Gold et al.


  “Yes! The Tales of a Lesbian Casanova.”

  “Isn’t there a female version of that?”

  “Gentleman Jack.” I twisted the cap off a bottle of water, drinking heavily.

  “Still male-centric.”

  “Maybe, by the end of the night, we’ll come up with a female-centric title.”

  “Would you like some?” I extended my arm. “I haven’t experienced heat like this.”

  There was longing in her gaze, and I was all but certain it wasn’t water on her mind. After taking a drink, she said, “Nice room.”

  I shrugged as if this were my typical style, when it most certainly wasn’t.

  “Mine isn’t so nice, but I made the reservation on the way to the airport.” She moved to the side of the bed. “Fit for a princess.”

  “It’s the honeymoon option.”

  “I thought you were married.” She still stared at the bed, seemingly lost in thought.

  “I am. It was meant to be a romantic getaway, but my wife thought work was more important.”

  “She’s a fool. No wonder you’re on the prowl.” There was an air of sadness in her expression.

  I couldn’t understand why nerves rattled my system. Outside of the room, when we’d kissed, I’d only experienced excitement. Now, it was like I’d never been with anyone before. What had changed since crossing the threshold? The fancy schmancy digs? The tension between us?

  I put my mind to work to banish the jitters. What to say or do? I mentally snapped my fingers.

  I placed my phone on the hotel’s docking station, searched for a song on one of my lists, and then hit play.

  The disco groove of “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing” filtered through the speakers.

  She spun around from the bed, smiling.

  I kicked up the volume. “Wanna cut a rug?”

  She met me halfway, jigging into me, her arms raised, moving her hips just right. “This is my favorite song.”

  “It must be my lucky night.” I danced.

  When Leo Sayer sung the holding tight line, our bodies pressed together. The spark from earlier roared to life when our lips met, hungrily staking a claim.

  Chapter 8

  Alex

  I pulled my lips away but ran a finger over her full bottom lip. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going? I put the song on repeat.”

  “I need to make a quick call,” I said.

  “What?” The voice was high-pitched, like a wife unhappy with her spouse checking social media feeds during dinner. I should know, since I’d had plenty of experience with that particular tone.

  I laughed. “Kidding. Just hopping into the bathroom. I promise.”

  There was a repentant expression for her scold-y tone.

  I slipped into the bathroom, needing a second to compose myself. Actually, it took much longer than I anticipated. Why was this so hard? It was the reason for coming here in such a rush. To woo the woman in the room. It wasn’t like I’d never done this before. But it’d been ages since I’d had sex. My marriage had been rocky at best for so long. Hence why I was here this evening. Best get back out there before you chicken out.

  I waltzed back into the spacious room to find the lights had been shut off. Now there were a dozen or so LED tea lights flickering through the colors of the rainbow. I picked up one, heaviness in my chest.

  A throat cleared.

  I wheeled about, my eyes feasting on the most beautiful creature stretched out on the king-sized bed, waiting in a black lace bra, panties, and garter. The cherry on top: she still wore her killer heels.

  “Fuck.” I nearly dropped the light. “Holy fucking fuck.” I was roughly five feet from the foot of the bed, and the rainbow lights bounced off her creamy skin. Despite the dim lighting, her attributes were on full display.

  “I’m curious. Is holy fucking fuck a good thing in your book? Or is this”—she waved to her pose and lingerie—“over-the-top?” She practically purred, and her legs widened to show her panties were crotchless.

  “You definitely came prepared. The lights. The lingerie.” I didn’t move, and I wasn’t entirely certain I was breathing, but that had to be the case, because that kind of thing only happened in bodice ripper stories. Was I dreaming all of this? If that was indeed the case, I made a silent prayer never to wake.

  “Ever since I saw you enter the bar, I knew I wanted this. I decided it’d be best to make it crystal clear. We’re doing this. My way.”

  I was speechless.

  “Do you plan on only staring?” She ran a finger down her body, stopping at the goods.

  “Believe it or not, this isn’t an everyday occurrence. I’m memorizing as many details as possible.” I ran through the mental checklist. Spilling cleavage. Lace. Garter. Stockings. Heels. Open crotch. Lots of straps. Deliciously complicated straps that allowed my eyes to travel here, there, and everywhere.

  “Hard to believe someone like you hasn’t been seduced this way.”

  My eyes continued to gorge on the display.

  She observed me with an inquisitive grin. “It does seem the cat’s got your tongue. Do you need some help to understand what’s to come?”

  “I just may.”

  With both hands, she squeezed her tits.

  I released a jagged breath, once again wondering if this was really happening. How had I lost control of the night or all of it? In the bar, I had compelled her to join me at the table. Well, the tables had clearly been turned, given the show before my eyes. That wasn’t a complaint, simply an observation.

  My inability to respond only spurred my partner in crime to kick it up a notch, nudging her bra up, allowing two fingers to stimulate a nipple. A perfectly pink one.

  The pink nub hardened. Deliciously so. What would it be like to take it into my mouth?

  A free hand trekked down her fit stomach and under the lace part of her panties, further disorienting me and making me forget about the nipple to focus on the southern region. She had it going in every single department.

  I continued to ogle, as if physically unable to do anything aside from watch the show.

  “Enjoying?” She hefted a naughty eyebrow, the look in her eyes declaring she was enjoying having me on my back heels.

  I moved my head up and down. That was a good sign, right? I wasn’t completely inept. Like a virgin on my wedding night even if we were in the honeymoon suite. Come on, Alex. Get in the fucking game. Fucking being the key word in that sentence.

  How was I, CEO of my social media marketing company, being rendered mute by this vixen on a hotel bed?

  Who was the woman on the bed, and how far would she take this sexual escapade?

  I chewed on my bottom lip.

  “If you prefer playing the voyeur, at least grab a chair. It’d be a shame if you keeled over. I’m enjoying the expression on your face,” she bossed in the sexiest tone but also with a splash of concern.

  Not wanting to tear my eyes off the exploits on display, I hooked a chair with my shoe, pulling it to the center of the foot of the bed to allow for optimum viewing.

  Her legs started to close, ripping a please don’t gasp from me.

  “I didn’t peg you as being the compliant type tonight.”

  No one had called me that. I was the take charge type. The loudest voice in the room. But… Susan Vance was… what? Stealing the show? If this was what it felt like to be an observer, maybe I should try it more.

  “I have to wonder if this is a natural state for you. Your power suit says no. And those penetrating eyes. Everything about you, at first glance this evening, screamed, I’m in control, so look out, bitches. I thought I’d really have my work cut out for me, but, now, I’m not so sure.”

  I swallowed.

  “Maybe this experience is good for you. Let go of the pretense of control. Let a woman take the reins. Surprise you.” Her fingers slid down to her clit.

  Whoever invented open-crotch panties deserved a fucking medal.
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  She stilled her hand.

  I gasped, wanting her to keep going. To vigorously fuck herself. I did my damnedest to convey this thought without words, my vocal cords refusing to work.

  “I need to know you’re turned on,” she said.

  I glanced down at my pussy, which throbbed with desire. “I…” It was like my tongue swelled five times its normal size in my mouth. “A-am.”

  “Don’t tell me. Show me.”

  My brain short-circuited with the request. Show her what? Desire? How?

  “Strip waist down.”

  Yes, that made sense. Why hadn’t I thought of that on my own? I wasn’t the type to need to be told anything. But tonight was a totally different experience. Now that I grasped what should happen, I sprang to action, rising to my feet to kick off my heels and shucking my trousers and panties in one go.

  Chapter 9

  Jamie

  I strained my eyes. “This won’t do. Everything has to go.”

  She glanced down, nodding as if taking in how ridiculous she looked still sporting the blouse, vest, and blazer. She tore the remaining articles off and cast them on top of the other clothes on the dark wood floor.

  Then, much to my surprise, she retook her seat, widening her legs to allow me to see the effect the show had.

  “If my hands weren’t busy, I’d high-five myself. You’re practically dripping.” I wanted to incentivize her further, so I separated my pussy lips and eased a finger inside. “What does that get me?”

  “What do you want?” Her voice was husky with need.

  “Honestly, you can’t come up with something? What if…?” I inserted two fingers inside, reangled my wrist for better access, and slid in and out of my wetness. “Does this spur you to reciprocate, perhaps?”

  According to the lightbulb expression on her face, she understood my request and ran a hand down from her neck, over the swell of her cleavage, past her toned stomach, and stilled on her pubic hair.

  I picked up the slack by driving my fingers in deeply, while my other hand ditched my nipple to stimulate my clit.

  Her chest hitched as her hand continued to travel past her perfectly groomed pubic hair to her clit.

  “Go in,” I pleaded, not caring if I was losing control of things. I absolutely needed her to penetrate herself right then.

  A look of determination appeared on her face, as if comprehending it was paramount to up her participation levels. We still hadn’t touched each other yet, but this seemed more intimate somehow. Just what I needed from the experience.

  Her legs spread even farther, and a finger disappeared inside.

  “Another,” I demanded with urgency.

  She added two more, upping the heat factor.

  I increased my own efforts, the slapping sound with each movement permeating the room. There was no doubt I was on the brink of coming. How long had it been? Weeks? No, months? Perhaps a year? I craved this release. Fucking hell, I needed it.

  From the serious expression on her face, so did she.

  My breathing quickened. My back arched. She leapt to her feet, and before I knew what was happening, she removed my fingers and buried her face into my pussy.

  “Oh God!” My eyes closed, while my hands fisted the bedcovering.

  Her fingers eased in and out furiously, her tongue circling my clit. I wanted to forestall my climax to enjoy this a little longer. She, though, had another thing in mind.

  It started as a moan, morphing into a scream. My body thrashed on the bed. The orgasm juddered through me. One ripple after another. Right when I thought I was done, another wave whipped up into a fury.

  “Holy fuck!”

  Her gaze met mine. This was happening. Between us. I was having an orgasm that could only be defined as out of this world. How was she taking me to places I’d never been?

  After one final spasm, my body went limp.

  She lapped at my clit, sensuously now. Not in an effort to spur another orgasm, but more like a way of saying thank you for this experience.

  “Are you sure you’re not the adult-film actress?” My body entered that gooey post-coital bliss stage.

  She rested her slick chin on my dark triangle. “I’m positive.”

  “Who are you then?”

  “Your wife, who hasn’t been kind enough to you for way too long.”

  My jaw went slack.

  Chapter 10

  Alex

  “You okay?” I threaded my fingers with hers.

  “Does this mean I don’t have to think of you as a stranger anymore?”

  “I gave you a fake name.”

  “I just couldn’t take to Tracy Lords.”

  “I’d completely forgotten about the porn star.” I repositioned to hover over my wife of five years. “I know how much you love Katharine.”

  “Adore her. At first glance, she is stately and reserved, but when she speaks, there’s a glint of mischief in her eyes and joyful abandon in her laugh. So many times, I wished I was more like her.”

  “I was impressed by your acting.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Jamie offered a smug smile.

  “Sure, let’s go with that. Your performance definitely showed me I don’t have to always be in control, and I should trust you more.”

  She cupped both of my cheeks. “It took pretending we were strangers fucking in Honduras to get you to trust me again?”

  “What can I say? I’m a complicated human being.” I shrugged, knowing I spoke the truth and to the core of our marriage woes.

  “That you are. Also gorgeous.”

  “You too.” My gaze roved over her lace underthings. “Did you have these on while we were at the bar?”

  She nodded.

  I whistled.

  “Are you waiting for an invite or something?” she asked.

  “Come again?”

  “Exactly. Make love to me as Alex.”

  “There are so many straps. I may need more direction.” It was disconcerting to admit this.

  “You can devise spreadsheets that even the developers didn’t envision, but a garter belt stops you in your tracks.” Her hearty laugh was music to my ears. How long had it been since I’d heard her laugh like that?

  “I’ll do my best.” I reached under Jamie to unclasp the bra. “Let’s start with a garment I’m more familiar with.” Lowering the straps, I left a trail of kisses on her left arm, taking the time to enjoy the moment. Before tossing the bra to the side, I said, “This is a keeper. All of this is.”

  “I fullheartedly agree.”

  It was difficult for me to concentrate with the way her freed breasts spilled out.

  She sucked in a breath. “I haven’t seen that look in your eyes in so long.”

  Not knowing what to say, I opted to work my way down her torso to the real challenge: garters. I’d never worn or undone them before. I ran a finger over one of the clips, the stocking securely fastened. “How do these even work?”

  She laughed again, the sound connecting deep within me. “I had to watch several YouTube videos back in Boston to get it right. There were a few trial runs when you worked late.”

  “You didn’t include me? I’m the YouTube queen in the household.”

  “I thought it would be better to surprise you. Was I wrong?”

  “Not wrong.” I smiled at her, relieved Jamie didn’t bring up that I’d told her I wouldn’t be coming on the trip, causing her to send the we’re over text. “Can you give me a hint?”

  “Hold onto the metal clip, and pop the knob thingy upward.”

  I followed the direction but to no avail. She started to rise off the mattress, but I said, “Stay put—shoot. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t mind when you boss me around in this situation,” she assured.

  “Hold metal clip. Pop knob.” I talked my way through it. “Aha! It worked.”

  Resting on bent elbows, she rolled her eyes. “Who said corporate types can’t do manual labor?”

&n
bsp; “Please, I’ve done more manual labor than most.” I worked on the back clip. “By Jove, I think I’m getting the hang of this.” I rolled the stocking down her leg, my tongue staking claim on the exposed flesh.

  She squirmed when I nibbled on her inner thigh.

  “I’ve missed your ticklishness.”

  “It’s been there the whole time.” She delightfully wriggled about.

  I moved on to the other leg. “Maybe my assistant can add tickle time to my calendar.”

  “I’ll ask her to do that because we both know you’ll forget.”

  “Do you want me to stop now and email her?” I freed the last clip.

  “I think I can remember, or are you forgetting I’m your executive assistant who tells your other assistants what to do?”

  “I could never forget. Besides, you aren’t really an assistant but co-owner and the real power of the company.”

  “Maybe we should stay here once a year. I like this Alex.” She spoke with an ounce of sorrow in her tone but harnessed it, as if not wanting to lose this experience so soon.

  “I may have to buy this place so we always have access.”

  “That’s so you.”

  I removed the final stocking, allowing my hand to slide over her smooth leg. “Someone once told me I’m either going full steam ahead or drifting at sea.”

  “Do you believe this someone?”

  “I did. Enough to start therapy.”

  Her torso lurched upward. “When?”

  “My first session was last week.”

  “You do love me. Not just because of tonight.”

  I stared into her eyes. “You are my entire world. I won’t lose you.”

  A tear fell from Jamie’s eye. “Why’d you cancel the trip?”

  I smoothed the wetness away with my finger. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I was a grade-A ass and didn’t realize my actions would make you feel like I didn’t love you anymore. That was never the case, Jams. Never. I let my ego and self-importance get in the way. But this is snapping me back to you. One garter belt at a time.”

 

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