Perfect Rhythm

by Letty James

  Her friend Doreen had accused her of neglecting her career, and she'd been right. LeeAnn was going nowhere fast. Even the Mrs. Degree seemed nowhere in sight. She'd been too busy having fun, dating all the Mr. Almost Rights. She talked a good line about wanting to get married and have babies, but when the time came to settle down, she just couldn't. Two engagements in four years and she was no closer to her goal. Instead, she was catting around with the likes of Johnny Dorado.

  The night had definitely been worth making a fool of herself at the show. She smiled to herself. And no hangover. Was it the aspirin or the marvelous workout? She stopped in the lobby and grabbed a newspaper to check her horoscope.

  Creativity will spark your life. Be patient. Don't give up too soon.

  Umm. This morning had definitely been creative, but did that count? Ah, Johnny. What memories. She shook her head as she folded up the newspaper and put it back on the concierge stand. More like time to get creative with Gordon. Maybe she would invite him to lunch. She'd certainly been patient with him.

  She found Doreen down in the kitchen and they took a minute to go over the catering files. LeeAnn was treading water with this new job and no supervisor.

  “The hotel's falling apart faster than a cheap, knock-off sweater,” Lee Ann said.

  “No. We're not going to let it happen. Because if the hotel falls apart, then so does the restaurant, and now I have a stake in it. I'll work double time to make sure it doesn't happen.” Doreen tapped her fist on the files.

  “Damn, I wish I had your dedication.”

  “LeeAnn, you need to find something you love. And I don't think clerking the front desk or working in catering sales is the thing for you.”

  “I have found something.” Her first thought was Johnny's face. No, don't go there. She told Doreen about the previous night's duet on stage.

  “That's fantastic.” Doreen smacked her shoulder hard enough to make her wince. “Think of it as an audition and go talk to him.”

  “It was an audition all right.”

  “You didn't!”

  “No comment.”

  “No comment? Since when? Oh, my God, you did! It must be serious if you're not giving me any details. I always get the details—more than I ever want to know. Did you get a picture, an autograph?”

  “Does an empty beer bottle count? Maybe I could get the DNA tested and have the report framed.”

  “Oh. My. God. Was he as good as we all imagined?” LeeAnn blushed and Doreen held up her hand to stop anything she would say. “Never mind. So what's next? Are you going to see him again?”

  “Please. As if. I thought I'd call Gordon. See if he wanted to have lunch.” She twirled her pen through her fingers, not looking at Doreen.

  “When are you going to realize getting married and having babies was your dad's dream, not yours?”

  “It is mine. Doing the mommy thing, making their little lunches, waving them off to school.”

  “You do realize they have to be five before they go to school? Come on, LeeAnn, if you were serious about this you'd be dating guys in town, not hotel guests who rotate every three days.”

  “I could relocate. I'm sure London is very nice this time of year.”

  “You'd never be happy with him. He'd let you boss him around.”

  “I like being in charge.”

  “That's just it. He'd probably let you, then you'd get bored. You need somebody like Johnny—a take-charge kind of guy, if his stage presence is anything like his real life.”

  “He's much quieter in real life.” The previous evening's activities flashed through her mind. Maybe not that quiet.

  Later in the afternoon, a man walked into the office while she talked on the phone at Madeline's desk. She couldn't see his face under the black fedora. He wore an old fashioned black pin-striped zoot suit. She looked down and instead of the classic shiny, pointy shoes stood brown work boots. Johnny's boots.

  “Something's just come up,” she said. “Let me call you back.” The phone missed the cradle, rattling to the floor. She left it there and stood up. “Johnny?” Had she become delusional?

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  He tilted his face up under the hat brim, his grin sly and knowing. “I hear something's come up.”

  “Oh, you.” Her breathy teasing voice made her sound like a dithering idiot and she could do nothing but literally wring her hands. Her body had automatically reverted to worshipping-fan mode.

  He closed the door behind him.

  “How did you find me?”

  “I have an assistant.” He sat on the edge of her desk, swinging his leg with childish abandon. “She's a bit overprotective. When I didn't come back last night, she managed to worm your identity out of one of the guys at the concert venue.” He cocked his head at her, shoving his hat up with one finger. “Seems they know you rather well down there.”

  A blush heated her face. One of her ex-fiancés managed the ticket booth. Thank God, he didn't hold their broken romance against her. Glad of it probably, since he'd found the love of his life two short weeks later. She could imagine what the guys down there had told Johnny's assistant.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question. Nice view.” He sauntered over to the window, his body as lean and graceful as Buddy's.

  “It's really Madeline's office but she's not here today. I'm not actually qualified for this job, but I'm pretty sure I can handle the assistant's job.”

  “Is this your life's ambition?” He waved his hand around the office. “Live within four walls, always looking out?”

  “A girl's gotta make a living. Don't you feel cooped up on the bus traveling from show to show?”

  “I think of it as expanding my mind through travel.” He shrugged and picked up a feathered pencil from her desk, running the feather over his cheek. She clamped her mouth shut so she wouldn't drool. Had it only been the alcohol making her feel she had the upper hand last night?

  She felt like a bumbling virgin as he prowled around the room studying the pictures on the wall, the brochures in the bookcase. Everything he studied was either the hotel's or Madeline's. The only thing that was hers was the feather pen he held in his hand. He tipped his fedora off his head, rolling it down his arm, catching the hat with a flourish. “I have time to learn fun tricks.” He tossed it on the desk, scattering her papers.

  “Did you stop by for a reason or just to antagonize me?”

  “I can't just come see you? You just use me, abuse me, and toss me aside?” He was smiling, but his voice had an edge she didn't understand. He sat again on the corner of her desk, his nearness making the small of her back sweat, her body's memory of last night. He brushed the feather over her collarbone.

  She sat suddenly, her knees weak. She was still too close, but the chair had wheels if he got out of control. She gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles white. She wanted to get out of control. She wanted to throw her arms around him with delight.

  He brushed aside her too-long bangs. Her pussy clenched as his warm fingers swept her brow. If he only knew how totally ready she was for him. Be patient, her horoscope had said. How could she be patient when the man could make her wet just by looking at her?

  “A couple shots of you and you're under my skin. I want you to come to the show tonight. Sing another duet with me.”

  “What's the point?”

  “Fun.”

  She had always been about fun. What had happened to her on the way into work? It wasn't about fun anymore. Fun could get her heart broken. She didn't care what Doreen said, she needed to settle down with some guy she could boss around because he'd never break her heart.

  This man had managed to do just that by walking in the door, reminding her their one night was over and now he was offering her a smidgen more. They'd sing, laugh, and he'd get on the bus and drive out of her life forever. Fuck that.

  She thought a
bout being alone these last two years without her dad, finding comfort in casual sex, building the Cinderella dream that was going nowhere. She had the castle and no prince to share it with. Should she give him one more night? One more night, and she'd work him out of her system with the next man who walked through her door.

  There was a knock at the door. She jumped, hastily canceling her previous thought. She didn't want anybody but Johnny.

  “You haven't given me an answer.” Johnny leaned toward her, smelling of the lavender soap in her shower.

  “I can't.” She rolled the chair away from him before she stood up.

  “Can't come or can't answer my question?”

  Oh, she could come all right. She waved his question away as Gordon opened the door. She'd worked right through lunch, forgetting all about her plans to seduce him.

  “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting? LeeAnn, there are considerable changes to the menu for next week.”

  “She's a little busy, pal.”

  “No. Gordon, it's fine. Come in. Please.” She shot Johnny a look to shut him up. He picked his hat up off her desk, jamming it on his head. Her heart sank thinking he was leaving, but he turned to stand at the window and stare out at the water. She felt an abnormal sense of relief.

  She and Gordon discussed his new notes. She didn't hear half of the discussion, being so distracted by Johnny's presence behind her. Why was he still here? Her hands trembled against the papers in the file so she clenched them into fists.

  “Are we still on for dinner tonight?” Gordon's gaze flicked over her shoulder at Johnny. The air pulsed with tension. Damn. She'd forgotten all about dinner.

  “Why don't I get back to you?” She smiled sweetly at Gordon. “I have your room number.” That would teach Johnny to be so presumptuous. He was messing up her plan for Gordon.

  Gordon gathered up the files and stuffed them in his briefcase and left, closing the door behind him.

  She ignored Johnny as she stared unseeing at the top of her desk. She could hear him breathing behind her.

  “Is that what you want? Mr. Paper Pusher?”

  She jumped when he whispered in her ear.

  He twirled her chair around so she faced the window, the afternoon sun streaming in behind him, making his silver earring spark. He knelt in front of her, his hands on the arms of her chair, pinning her in. Not that she was planning on going anywhere. She bit her lip, drawing his gaze to her mouth.

  “He hasn't even seen you naked and you're going to have dinner with him instead of singing with me?” He leaned forward, drawing designs on her knee as he studied her face. His ear studs winked under the office lights.

  “He hasn't had the chance to see me naked.”

  “How long has he been at the hotel?”

  “Three days.”

  “Sounds long enough to me.”

  She didn't bother to mention all of Gordon's past visits. Johnny did have a point.

  His hand slid up her skirt to graze the bare skin at the top of her stocking. Her breath hissed in at his boldness. God, he had to stop there. He would think she was such a slut. She tried to twist away, but his other hand clamped down on her other leg, holding her there.

  His hand crept higher as her heart pounded, her lips went dry, and her nipples hardened with desire. Johnny's eyes widened, his hand sliding from her thigh to her pussy to her waist, meeting only skin. He smiled wickedly, yanking her to the edge of the chair as he bent on his knees before her.

  “Expecting me, LeeAnn?” Both his hands were now under her skirt, cupping her bare bottom.

  “I like to air out after repeated use.”

  “Do you, now? I'll have to remember that for next time.”

  “There won't be a next time.” She held her hands tight against his forearms, knowing she really wasn't going to stop this, wanting to hear more talk about next time.

  “Oh, I think there will be lots of next times.” He inched her further forward, her skirt wrinkling across her belly, exposing her bare mons for his perusal. He dipped down, his hat shielding her view so she could only feel, not see, his mouth against her. Soft lips kissing her, his tongue wet and wide, probing her labia open. She muffled a squeak, her hands clasping his forearms tighter, but her legs fell open granting him greater access.

  His hands cupped under her ass, opening her wide to him, as he placed her legs over his shoulders. LeeAnn gripped the arms of her chair, her legs trembling as she gave in to the sensations of Johnny licking and loving her cunt. One finger entered her as he gently sucked her clit and she moaned, her head falling back. Two fingers, three. She couldn't stop moaning, feeling as if she would burst out of her skin. His thumb circled her sensitive skin, his calloused finger rough, abrasive, perfect. His thumb, his lips, his tongue, rubbing, licking, pressing her engorged clitoris to the state of trembling ecstasy.

  Johnny's other hand worked its way up her blouse tearing at the buttons. She pushed him aside, undoing them herself, unhooking her bra, guiding his hand to her breast. He stroked it, pinching it lightly, then harder. She was going to come. Right. Now. She drove her heels into his back.

  The door opened and Gordon strode in. Stopped. Gaped. His eyes went dark as he eyed Johnny.

  Johnny's hand covered her nipple, the other her cunt, providing an odd sort of coverage. “Like I said before, pal. She's a little busy.”

  Gordon's face turned as red as the stripes on his tie. The file he'd been holding slipped below his belt, but not before LeeAnn saw the tell-tale tenting of his trousers. For a second, LeeAnn thought he would join them and she stopped breathing. From excitement or fear, she wasn't sure. He turned and left, the frosted glass door rattling behind him.

  “That ought to get the message across,” said Johnny as he bent toward her again.

  “Oh, my God,” whispered LeeAnn. She'd never been caught at anything so slutty. This man brought out the absolute worst in her. Worst? Best? Damned if she knew as she weakly tried to wiggle out of Johnny's grasp. He held her tighter, moving his tongue faster against her clit. She. Was. Going. To. Come.

  Johnny slid her off the chair, impaling her on his cock and she exploded, biting his shoulder to stifle her scream as she felt him burst within her.

  “Oh, my God,” whispered LeeAnn again, for entirely different reasons. Johnny held her tight, his breath rasping against her ear. He eased her back onto the hard plastic mat under the desk. She tried to sit up, but he held her down with one hand on her stomach. He pulled tissues out of the box and wiped her wet cunt. Ah, how sweet. Then he uncapped a permanent marker.

  He wrote something right on her vagina.

  LeeAnn bolted up. “What the hell are you doing?” She bent double trying to decipher the words upside down.

  “That ought to keep Gordon out. I've branded you.”

  “What? Are you crazy? Nobody brands me.” LeeAnn rolled up to her feet, dizzily swaying at standing up too fast, trying to yank her skirt down at the same time. Johnny stood and steadied her with one hand on her arm, her bare breasts grazing his wool sleeve. She yanked away as if burned. He trapped her against the desk, and her breasts jiggled between them. His thumb caressed her nipple. She bit her lip so she wouldn't groan.

  “You would have let me sign these last night.”

  “That was different.”

  “How?”

  LeeAnn really couldn't say. If Gordon hadn't interrupted them, she'd probably have Johnny drawing all over her body. He dropped his hand and stepped away. She held her blouse closed, her breathing as ragged as when he'd been inside her.

  “Your choice, LeeAnn.” Johnny dropped an envelope on her desk. He touched the brim of his hat in a quick salute and left, taking all the air with him. She sat down slowly in the chair, automatically re-hooking her bra, buttoning her blouse, her knees still shaking. She'd been playing with fire and just gotten burned. Damn. Would Gordon rat on her? She'd better do some damage control. She reached for the phone, but instead picked up the envelope Johnny had dropped. On
e ticket to the concert. Not like she could take Gordon with her anyway after the eyeful he'd gotten. Damn.

  * * * *

  LeeAnn knocked on Gordon's door. She held a basket of goodies from the kitchen as a peace offering. Nothing said I'm sorry like sugar. He opened the door, his tie askew, his shirt tail hanging out. He motioned her inside as he kept chattering on the phone. She tried not to eavesdrop, but couldn't help it. A lot of talk about plumbing and loos and drain spouts.

  “Sorry about that, luv,” he said as he hung up. “We're having a flat renovated and it's slow going.”

  “Here, I brought you some treats.” She thrust the basket at him, not sure where to start on her apology. He'd never called her luv before. What was his game?

  “Oh, fancy bits and now treats. It's my lucky day.” He took the basket from her and set it on the suite's coffee table. His eyes twinkled as he gave her the once over and her whole body flushed with embarrassment. She didn't know what fancy bits meant, but she could guess.

  “I'm really sorry about what happened before. I—I don't know what came over me.”

  Gordon snorted as he rummaged through the basket, picking things out. “I believe it's called lust. You don't have to apologize to me. These things happen.”

  “Not to me!”

  He looked her up and down again as he unwrapped some lemon squares. “Then to your friend, perhaps? What was his name? He seemed to be having a grand time.”

  LeeAnn wiped the sweat from her top lip. How could she have been such an idiot? Johnny probably had his afternoon delight routine down pat. Was the permanent marker branding just another way of notching the bedpost? She sat on the couch, taking a lemon square Gordon offered, and then the glass of bubbling water, flinching when she realized it was a vodka tonic, but drinking it anyway. She looked up at Gordon, watching him push his glasses back against his nose. “You're not mad?”

  “Why would I be mad? It's rather funny, actually.”

  LeeAnn's lips curled up. She supposed it was, in a way.

  “You didn't think?” Gordon waved his drink between the two of them, the club soda sloshing against the glass. “No? You and me? No!” He started laughing and couldn't stop. His drink spilled on his lap and he kept laughing as he dabbed at it with a bar napkin. LeeAnn was starting to get a little insulted.