Lucky Seven

by Elle M Thomas

  And now he planned on coming to the gallery opening. She was a little startled but knew if she even hinted at him not attending Mr Suspicious would go even crazier than usual and still escort her. Plus, there really was no reason for him not to accompany her.

  She returned home fully waxed, threaded and preened and began to sort her things to pack. She put the kinky stuff in the Prada bag and giggled at the contents before wondering what the hell he wanted a blindfold for? She didn’t care. She knew it would be really hot and erotic, whatever he did with it.

  With her clothes on the bed next to her case, Tasha text Jim.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  With her packing finished Tasha threw on a pair of pyjamas and climbed into bed where she willed herself to sleep, but her attempts were futile she realised when at half past one she received a text from Jim and was still wide awake.

 

 

  Chapter 37

  Tasha had finally fallen asleep when she heard Lucy return with Ryan. Within twenty minutes heavy breathing, panting and groaning could be heard all around her. Maybe she should think of getting a place of her own.

  It was about half past four before she fell asleep and as a consequence woke up startled at half past ten.

  “Bollocks!” She realised she now only had an hour and a half to be at the hotel.

  It seems it had been a very good idea to have packed the previous night. She quickly got up, showered and did her hair before throwing on jeans, trainers and a t-shirt. She would change at the hotel, after all, she knew what sneakers were not for. She called for a mini-cab and by half past eleven she was on her way.

  Arriving at the hotel, Tasha felt very out of place in her casual wear that got several disapproving glances from staff and guests. There was quite a queue at the desk by the time she checked in.

  “Can I help you?” the receptionist asked, already looking at Tasha with disapproval, contempt, or disgust. She wasn’t sure which.

  “I have a reservation.”

  A whispered chorus of huffs and tuts sounded behind her. She turned and many of them seemed to be sneering. What was their problem? Was it really down to the jeans and trainers? She had a Prada bag, a genuine one, what more did they want? She turned back to the receptionist who was querying Tasha’s claim.

  “Here? You have a reservation here?” she asked with a frown that suggested she couldn’t quite believe that could be the case.

  “Yes, here. Let me get you the reservation details my boyfriend’s P.A. emailed to me.”

  Tasha handed over the folded sheet of paper.

  “Name?”

  “Natasha Winters, but it’s probably in my boyfriend’s name, James Maybury.” She could feel her agitation rising along with her own embarrassment.

  “I have your details here and you are in the Presidential suite, Miss Winters.” The receptionist smiled now, briefly.

  There were fresh mutterings from the queue.

  “Is Mr Maybury with you?”

  “No, his flight from L.A. doesn’t land until noon,” she explained. “But if I could check-in please.”

  “We need a credit card for security Miss, so if you would rather wait for Mr Maybury...”

  “No need,” snapped Tasha and handed over Jim’s Amex card.

  The receptionist summoned someone to take Tasha’s luggage and escort her to her suite.

  Once in the suite the young man who had carried her luggage loitered for what seemed like an eternity until she suddenly realised that he was waiting for a tip. With only ten and twenty pound notes, which did seem a lot to Tasha, she dithered a little then handed him the smaller of the two notes and with a smile he left.

  Tasha hung her clothes in the huge wardrobe, but left her Prada bag packed. Then, she went to explore the huge suite that was like a proper flat, a luxury one. There was a kitchen, lounge, dining room, two bedrooms, one with an en-suite, a ‘family’ bathroom, a wet bar and an office. The decoration and furniture was very ornate and luxurious; lots of golds and deep reds, velvet, gilt frames, heavy drapes, chandeliers and everything appeared to be thick and padded, the chairs, sofas and beds. It was very nice and quite similar to the suite Jim had stayed in when they had been in New York.

  She investigated the huge en-suite bathroom with a sunken, oval shaped, marble bath and was more than big enough for two. It even had a TV screen at one end. There were twin sinks, a toilet and a walk-in shower with a wet room floor. The shower head was as big as a dinner plate and there were buttons and lights all over the control panel. This really was a different world, a world she had never known, one she was unsure she’d ever get used to.

  Glancing down at her jeans and trainers Tasha decided it was time to get changed, but what should she wear? She looked up at the clock and saw that it was half past twelve when her phone beeped.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  With a smile, she toed off her trainers.

 

 

  Tasha clapped her hands and grinned as she began removing her clothes. She put a little perfume on her wrists and spritzed it across the long sleeved, black, backless, short dress she had chosen to wear. She thought back to when she’d modelled it during their video date and he’d suggested she removed her pants and had been very appreciative of the overall effect. She pulled it on and smiled at her reflection in the huge mirror at the bottom of the bed.

  She put on her new black, sequinned, high courts and with her back to the mirror bent down to touch her toes. This was beyond accessible. She tousled her hair and applied a clear lip gloss and licked her lips to give them a wet look. All she had to do now was wait. She went into the lounge, plugged her phone into the docking station and put her music on. She wan
dered into the kitchen in an attempt to kill time and laughed as Time of My Life blasted out from the speakers. She’d really thought she and Jim were done the last time she’d heard this. She skipped to the next track and began dancing around as she rummaged through the kitchen cupboards and fridge.

  She was singing along to Last Dance by Donna Summer and the irony of the lyrics she was singing were not wasted on her. Words about needing him beside her, to guide and hold her, but more so to scold her. She thought the lyrics about being so, so bad probably wouldn’t get any argument from Jim.

  With a start she realised something, someone had wrapped their arms around her waist at the same time as his words washed over her. “Ain’t that the truth, baby?”

  She spun around and came face to face with him. She was rooted to the spot and speechless, but managed the biggest of grins as he released her. He looked absolutely glorious; black jeans and casual loafers with a plain white t-shirt and although he looked a little tired with his ruffled hair he didn’t look as though he’d just endured a ten-hour flight and an eight hour time difference.

  “Nice shoes and very inappropriate dress.” He grinned wolfishly.

  “Very accessible.” She swooshed the skirt suggestively and before she could even blink she was struggling to breathe. She was sandwiched between the fridge and Jim’s body then his mouth was on hers, his tongue explored her mouth, forcefully and purposefully. She wanted to pull back, to come up for air, but had absolutely nowhere to go. She moaned loudly as he released her lips.

  “Baby, I need you right now, so unless you want our first time without any barriers to be on the kitchen floor or the counter top, show me where the bedroom is.”

  Shakily, Tasha pointed to the bedroom door before Jim took her hand and led her through it where she stood looking at him nervously as he sat on the bed.

  “I really, really like that dress and those shoes. So much better than jeans and sneakers.” He kicked his shoes off and pulled his t-shirt off over his head. “Turn around, honey.” He stood again.

  She turned on the spot and breathed deeply when she heard him undoing his jeans behind her. This wasn’t how she had imagined it to be. She had thought that she would greet him at the door and they would kiss and that he would either pin her to the nearest flat surface and fuck her like his life depended on it or carry her to bed and make love to her, gently, but he had done neither. He’d surprised her and kissed her until she was breathless and this felt like sex, but controlled, calculated on his part. This was James, not Jim, but she didn’t mind. She felt nervous of him, maybe that was the anticipation and expectation of what was about to happen, but there was more to her nervousness. She was genuinely worried that this moment wouldn’t be good enough, that her memories of how things had been were somehow distorted in her mind and yet she knew they hadn’t been. Her nerves kicked in as though she was some kind of born again virgin, although she was seriously turned on and whilst part of her wanted to turn around and be equally as controlling she knew she couldn’t be, not if James was in charge, so simply did nothing.

  “Bend over.”

  She did so immediately, knowing he was recreating the image from their date. “Oh baby, you remembered,” he groaned and then he was there, behind her and obviously naked. He gripped her hips tightly then leaned down her back where he pulled her to stand until she was pressed against his chest. “You smell so good,” he moaned, “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

  She replied with a loud moan as his words caused her insides to clench before his fingers found and pinched her erect nipples that protruded through the fabric of her dress.

  She swallowed hard. “I’ve missed you.”

  “How much?” he asked, one hand returned to her back, stopping at the bottom of her dress. “How much?” he repeated, lifting her dress and rubbing his hand across her cheeks. “So cold and pale. We should change that,” he whispered with a slightly threatening undercurrent.

  She tensed, bracing herself which made him laugh warmly against her ear. “So, so eager, Natasha. Not yet, honey,” he crooned as his fingers parted her folds to find her hot and wet welcome that he quickly buried a first and then a second finger in making her gasp and lean back farther. “Oh, you’ve missed me this much. Such a warm welcome so soon, Tasha.”

  She knew he was laughing, with her, not at her, amused, pleased at how much she wanted him, how much she’d missed him.

  He removed his fingers and as she heard the sound of him sucking them she could feel her legs almost buckling beneath her.

  “You like that I like to taste you, don’t you?” He buried his fingers inside her once more.

  She gasped so hard she almost choked at the realisation that she really had missed him and he was amazingly good at this, at knowing what she liked, what she wanted.

  “You want some?” he asked hoarsely.

  She immediately knew what he was referring to. He meant her and she was horrified to realise that she actually did. Was there something wrong with her? Was this in any way normal behaviour? She had no clue, she just knew that she wanted this, him and everything he offered her.

  “Tasha?” He interrupted her thoughts, wanting an answer.

  “Yes.” She was seriously turned on by this man, her man and his sexiness, his sex awareness. His awareness of her.

  He turned her to face him and with his glistening fingers held in front of her face he placed them against her lips. “Suck,” he spoke with a gentleness that did nothing to disguise the authority of his order. She immediately complied. “How do you taste, Natasha?”

  “Sweet,” she mumbled using his usual description as her hand took hold of his.

  “You certainly do, honey.”

  She sucked his fingers deep and hard and allowed her tongue to sweep around them. He groaned as he inclined his head to one side and slowly began to slide his fingers back out of her mouth but not before she had gently nipped at his fingers as they left the wet heat of her mouth.

  He arched an eyebrow and smiled again. “Later.” He dropped his mouth over hers. He kissed her, long and hard while his hands slid through her hair to grip her head so as to manoeuvre her head into the position he wanted, needed it to be in.

  All too soon he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “I like the taste of you on your own tongue.” He pulled the top of her dress down over her arms, releasing and uncovering her upper body. Looking down with a smile, his hands made their way to her breasts. “I like to watch you play with these, but I prefer to do it myself.” He bent his head and lifted, in turn, each of her breasts. He sucked her already stiff nipples until they were rigid, over-sensitised peaks before grazing his teeth across them making her cry out as her nails clawed the tender skin of his scalp while her fingers that were tangled in his hair gently tugged.

  Straightening, Jim raised his head to take her mouth again, his tongue sliding and lapping against hers, duelling for supremacy, a battle he won with ease. A battle she had no desire to win.

  Once satisfied that her mouth and mewls all belonged to him, Jim wrapped his arms around her, lifted her up and carried her to the bed where he safely deposited her on the sumptuous mattress.

  Tasha wriggled out of her dress as Jim stood over her. “You could have kept it on for what good it was.”

  She giggled as she kicked it across the floor.

  “Keep your sparkly shoes on, I like them.” He grinned as he joined her on the bed. Lying down beside her he pulled her close. “Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

  She considered her reply. She’d known this man for three weeks. The first week was sex and lots of it and the last two had been long distance sexting, with a couple of cybersex dates.

  “I am nervous. I feel like a born again virgin,” she confessed.

  “I like that idea, baby. I wish you were a virgin.” He traced a path down her chest, belly and sex where his hand settled for a few seconds before he allowed a single finger to skim along her length. “I wou
ld like to have been the first here,” he said, finally burying his finger into her firmly, with an almost rough desperation as he staked his claim to her.

  Never taking his eyes off her he sucked his fingers again until she was forced to break the look. Tasha let her eyes drop to his groin and smiled as she took him in her hand and gripped him tightly. She moved her hand up and down, slowly and then allowed her thumb to circle the head of his shaft removing the sticky pre-cum that was now covering him. She raised her hand to her face and smiled at him as she plunged her thumb, coated in him, into her mouth and sucked it hard. His eyes widened as he watched her with an expression of something akin to awe. She moved her hand and thumb back and began to grip him again, tightly. She repeated the sweeping movement with her thumb and gazed up at him.

  “You want some?” She repeated his previous question to her.

  He didn’t answer but grabbed her hand and pulled it to his face and devoured her thumb; sucking and biting, circling her thumb with his tongue. He pulled it from his mouth and ran it across her lips.

  “You are something else, you really are, baby.”

  She smiled up at him.

  “I think I should fuck you now, bareback.”

  Kneeling up on the bed, Jim put a hand under each of her knees to pull her down the bed towards him. He then pushed her legs apart, briefly sinking his fingers into her again, rotating them, bringing her nerve endings to life until she bucked her hips against him and then he was gone.

  “Are you sure you want to do this without a rubber?” he asked, allowing his erection to nudge her opening.