The Emerald Room

by Scarlett Knight

  “Come in,” he said, his voice deep with calm, seductive experience.

  She gulped, already feeling herself began to lose it. His suite was fantastic, much better than the smaller room she was staying in. It had a living room with brown leather couches, a huge flat-screen TV, and a gorgeous mahogany desk. Travis looked to have recently showered, the hair on his head still beaded with moisture. The dark, curling hair on the V of bare chest, which she could see now with his open robe, was also wet. She had to hold herself back from running her fingers through it.

  “How are you doing, my dear?” he asked. He made it sound so classic, yet modern at the same time.

  “Wonderful.” She smiled, setting her little black sequined purse down on the couch. “Do you mind if I put this here?”

  “Anywhere you like. Make yourself comfortable.” He eyed her, the look not lasting more than a few seconds, but the heat of it made her face flush. “You still look ravishing. And wait.” Leaning down to her neck, he inhaled, barely brushing her skin with his lips. “Ah, sorry. I’m becoming quite addicted to the smell of you.”

  She grinned as goose-bumps raced up her arms and responded in her own sexy purr, “I’m glad you like it.

  “I do.”

  Then he kissed her. It wasn’t the strong, possessive kiss she’d been expecting. It was light, almost testing the waters. A flick of his tongue sent pleasure vibes directly to her cunt, which twitched in wild response. He traced the long dark curls of her hair with his fingers, starting above her ear and trailing all the way down to the end of her mane, a couple inches above her elbows.

  “So,” he said, “you mentioned how jealous you were when I told you I had a hot tub here,” he said, leading her to the spacious, marble bathroom. “I decided I’d offer it to you tonight, if you’d like to relax.”

  He’d already filled it to the brim with bubbles. A bottle of champagne lay chilling in a silver bucket of ice next to the tub. Two flutes had already been filled with the sparkling drink. Offering her one of the glasses, he took the other and sipped out of it.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I - ” Her damned tongue got caught in her throat. She felt like a child at Christmas, only filled with much more adult thoughts. “I - ”

  “Oh, and I can wait in the other room, if you like. I just thought you might enjoy a little rejuvenation, given how much you don’t care for conferences.”

  She knew he didn’t want to wait in the other room. All this was leading up to the same end. Why prolong it? She desired him as much as he seemed to want her. Screw it.

  “Stay,” she said.

  He whispered, “Are you sure?”

  After she took a long drink of the champagne, she said in all honesty, “Mmm, that’s wonderful.” She gently put the flute back on the plate where she got it from. “Have a seat, if you like. I enjoy your company.”

  He sat down on the plush toilet seat cover and crossed his arms, a deep set of dimples creasing on the side of his face. Mia stepped out of her high heeled shoes and slowly wriggled out of the satin gown. Her round, darkly tanned breasts bobbed free of the dress’s built-in bra. She took her time removing her crimson thong, hooking her thumbs into the sides and pulling down until her freshly shaved pussy came into view. Then she tossed the thong beside her bare feet on the plush bathroom rug.

  Raising his eyebrows, Travis watched her step into the deliciously hot water. He drank his expensive champagne in focused silence. She swirled her arms around, letting the soap bubbles tickle her senses.

  “How does it feel?” Travis asked.

  Secretly beneath the shield of bubbles, she brushed her fingers over her clit and then pinched on her nipples. “It feels good.”

  Returning to her pussy, she probed around her opening and found she was already more than wet. Pity he’d already taken a bath. But maybe if she asked sweetly enough...

  “Jump in with me?”

  He blinked, slightly shaking his head as if awakened from a dream. “What?”

  “Join me,” she said.

  If she expected any sort of protest, he quickly put those fears to rest when he stood and began to untie his robe. She waited in anticipation, unable to tear her eyes away from him. When he opened the robe, revealing a perfectly in-shape torso and perfectly erect and well-sized prick, her breath caught in her throat. She bit down on her full, lower lip.

  He lowered himself into the water and glided over toward her where she rested her head against the edge of the tub. She sat up straighter, her arm extending out, and she found his prick aiming like an arrow toward her. Stroking him from tip to base and back again, she lifted her chin, hoping he would kiss her and send that fire through her again.

  As if he read her mind, he tickled her nipples with the tips of his fingers and leaned in to touch her lips with his. But this time the feather-light touch quickly melted into one of fiercely passionate intent. She responded in kind, opening her mouth to give him access to suck on her tongue as she stroked his prick faster.

  Just when any of her usual lovers would have made the step to plunge into her, Travis backed off. And not only that, he leaned back on the opposite side of the tub and let out a chuckle then took a drink of more champagne.

  “What?” she asked, fearing she’d done something horribly wrong.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I love your passion.”

  “Then why - ”

  “Why don’t you and I,” he nodded toward the bathroom rug, “take this and move it somewhere that’ll give me better access to you.”

  Her mind spun with the possibilities as she all but jumped out of the tub. Beads of water and streams of soap dripped off her breasts and down her ribcage and legs. She sat down on the rug, reveling in its softness, and he met her there, lowering to his knees.

  He slowly opened her legs, her pink cunt wet from the bath and from desire. With expert skill, he kissed her there, exploring every fold and every crevice with his tongue. Nipping on her swollen clitoris, he groaned with the first overt show of his need.

  She swam in the ecstasy he provided her. She could get used to this, being the object of seduction rather than the seducer. Although she did so love to tease a man until he begged for her to take him, it was thrilling the way she reclined there at the mercy of Travis’s tongue. He continued the cunnilingus until she whimpered that he must stop and, that she had to have him inside her now.

  Sitting up, he smiled down at her, his lips still glistening with her juices. Her cunt ached upon his absence, the hollow pain desperate to be filled. Her thoughts briefly flitted away, warning her to use precaution since she didn’t really know him. But there he was, one step ahead of her yet again, as he produced a condom seeming out of nowhere. She tried to sit up, but he was instantly on her. The way he held her down, so primal and dominant, nearly had her at orgasm. His hand worked to fix the condom into place. Then he kissed her throat as he inched his way into her, the exquisite, thick heat of him nudging her into a swoon.

  He humped at varying speeds between her legs. Fast pumps of his hips melted into slow, teasing strokes until she was breathless and trembling with pleasure. Grabbing his ass, she felt it tense and relax, tense and relax, and she rubbed her pelvis against him. She gasped, startled at how fast the orgasm hit her, welling up in a ball of crashing energy at her core and exploding through her limbs. As she tightened, his movements became more erratic, and he grew closer to his release. How could she have wasted so much time on younger men? Travis, and all seasoned gentlemen like him, was now her new addiction. And whatever happened after the conference, she was sold on her decision.

  When he came, he did so with grace, raking his fingernails down her side and kissing her chin as he emptied himself into the condom. He stayed there, his eyes locked on hers, a gratified smile on his lips. He took her hand and kissed its
palm, the gesture somehow more intimate than the act they’d just engaged in.

  “Mia,” he whispered.

  He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. She lovingly ran her fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair as he lay on her ample bosom. Closing her eyes, she drifted off into a sweet dream, but not before making a mental note to attend more conferences in the near future.

  Taking Direction

  Holly crawled on all fours over the stage desk toward her fellow actor. Stefan reclined in the leather chair, staring at her with surprised eyes, as he’d been directed to do. When she reached the edge of the desk, she stretched toward him in the most sex-kitten manner she could muster and grabbed hold of his tie.

  “Stop,” Xavier’s voice echoed through the theatre. “Stop, that’s still not right.”

  Holly collapsed and let the side of her face rest against the furniture’s cool, smooth wood. “What am I doing wrong, now?”

  Xavier didn’t answer. Impossible old man. Ever since he’d discovered her last year in that penniless community theatre, he’d been the object of her strongest frustration. He’d approached her after her performance in the summer musical, presented his business card, and had told her he wanted her to work for him on his stage. Stars and hearts filled her vision. The man exuded confidence. That coupled with Sean Connery-type looks had her weak at the knees. But as soon as she’d become enamored, he’d cocked an eyebrow and made a smart-alecky remark about how she might actually display some talent under his direction. Needless to say, with her fiery attitude, she’d taken it the wrong way. It was love and hate ever since.

  Holly jumped off the desk and adjusted her blue jean shorts so they weren’t crawling up her ass. She put her hands on her hips, a few blue-black wisps of her sharply bobbed hair brushing against her full, pouting lips.

  “You said to be seductive. So that’s what I was doing.”

  “No, you weren’t.” His deep, godlike voice rang out from the sea of darkness that was the empty audience. “You were acting like a cheap tramp. We need to see you actually want him. I don’t want to see you acting.”

  “Great.”

  That last line about not wanting to see her acting had been thrown at her quite a bit lately, and it was getting tiresome. She needed some actual direction, not vagueness, or criticism after criticism. Holding her arms out in desperation, she shrugged.

  “I’ve tried a million things, Xavier.”

  Stefan let out a gigantic yawn, and Holly turned toward him to shoot him a death glare.

  “You know,” she said, “it might help if you were worth seducing.”

  “Sorry I’m not your cup of tea, love,” he said, batting pretty eyelashes. She wanted to slap him. “Shall I put on some mood music? Light some candles, perhaps?”

  “Nice thought, but no,” Xavier cut in before Holly could provide a sharp rebuke. “It’s after midnight. Let’s call it an evening for now. You worked hard, Stefan, thanks. We’ll pick back up here tomorrow.”

  Stefan didn’t have to be asked twice. The blond Australian model-turned-actor swiveled the chair downstage and jumped out of it. He saluted the director. Holly couldn’t tell whether he waved back; Xavier was barely even visible sitting in the back row.

  “See you both tomorrow, same time, same channel,” Stefan said, then whistled as he strode away from the makeshift office set and out of the auditorium.

  Holly didn’t move. She felt her temperature rise. Her hazel eyes burned bright gold. Xavier moved out in the darkness, his form like an intimidating shadow as he made his way from the seats to the aisle. Approaching the stage, he frowned, his features becoming clearer in the stage lights.

  “So Stefan worked hard, but I didn’t?” Holly spat.

  “I should’ve been in bed hours ago,” he said with an annoyed shake of his head.

  She hated that he looked so delicious in his gray sweater; it brought out the sharp blue gray color of his eyes. He was older than her father by a few years, but that didn’t stop her from being wildly attracted to him. It was partly his age, experience, and power which caused her to have a crush. Add to that his deep voice, the classic Hollywood looks, and his curmudgeonly attitude, and she was a goner. And oh, how she hated herself for wanting him. It put her in such a bind when she also wanted to strangle him.

  “Holly,” he said, gentler now that he was closer and they were the only two in the theatre, “I’m not trying to say you don’t work hard. I’m just trying to say you’re not understanding what I’m wanting. I want all my actors to figure out the trick to making a scene work - if I tell you, it won’t have as strong of an effect. What I’m looking for is that light-bulb moment when you figure it out.”

  His tall, broad frame stood over her petite body. She wished she had on some super high heels to meet him on a more eye-to-eye level. Maybe then, she’d be able to express her angst. Suddenly, something clicked in her mind.

  “Something with my eyes?” she asked, feeling very much the student who badly wanted to please her teacher. “Is that what I need to do? That’s what I need to do, isn’t it? This whole time I’ve been looking at his body, but it’s in the eyes.”

  The smile lines on his rugged face appeared as he twisted his lips into a satisfied grin. “Ah, now you’re getting somewhere.” He crossed his arms. “And how are you going to do this eye business you’re talking about?”

  Her cheeks flushed. Why did he always have to put her on the spot like this? It was as if she stood under a microscope and had to answer perfectly, lest she be berated. How he made her nervous also secretly excited her, and she felt a pulsing pressure between her legs. She cleared her throat.

  “I’ll have to work on it, I guess. Maybe in a mirror.”

  “Let me give you a pointer,” he said, stepping up to her until they were close enough to touch. “When you’re crazy about a person, and you’re going in for the kill, you won’t be able to stop yourself from making eye contact.”

  The way he looked at her now made her feel as if she were under a spell, the power of his gaze burning right into her core. He slowly dropped his arms to his sides. Though they weren’t touching, Holly was completely engulfed by his presence.

  “Imagine you’re looking at that one thing that you’ve wanted for so long you can practically taste the ownership of it on your tongue,” said Xavier. “It’s the sole thing you’ve lived for, the only thing you’d die without, and you are willing to do anything to claim it. Believe this when you look into his eyes, and the audience will feel it.”

  “But they can’t see how I’m looking at him when they’re in the audience,” she said, her voice strangely weak and far away. “Only Stefan can see that.”

  “They’ll know.”

  He darted his eyes to her lips then quickly met her gaze again. Xavier had been a very convincing actor before he decided to direct. He’d performed Shakespeare in the most estimable venues. She was quite convinced through his acting now that he actually wanted her. Pity it was all for direction. Her palms grew sweaty, her neck hot with the rush of blood to her head. If he didn’t stop soon, she might get dizzy.

  Wait a minute.

  Was he acting?

  In a reckless move of pure curiosity, she closed the gap between him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He stiffened his back and took in a sharp breath. As she ran her hands down the soft fabric of his sweater and pressed against the muscle of his back, something firm jutted against her leg. Delighted and terrified, she knew it wasn’t anything in his pocket. It was his arousal. Good lord, this wasn’t totally an act. In the heat of the moment, she reached down toward the front of his slacks, but he abruptly broke away.

  Storming down the stage steps in a sudden burst of attitude, he muttered a curse. Holly’s eyes grew wide. Holy shit. He actually wanted her, didn’t he? Well, she’d show him she wa
nted him, too. With her eyes, in the same manner he just taught her, she’d show him.

  “Wait,” she managed to squeak. Gathering herself, she shouted, “Xavier, wait!”

  “We’re done here for the night. Get some rest.”

  Running down the dark aisle after him, she threw all caution to the wind, her body crying out to be touched by this man. She grabbed his arm and pulled. Though much stronger than she, he allowed himself to be turned around. This time, she locked him in a gaze of her own.

  “No,” he said. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  But she ignored him. Through her eyes, she spoke volumes. They carried in them the passion she’d felt for him since they first met, the mixture of admiration and loathing, of desire and irritation. She took his hand and placed it against her petite breast.

  “Holly,” he breathed with fierce hunger in his voice. “You’re damned stubborn, you know that?”

  “Almost as much as you.”

  She took his face in her hands and pulled it toward hers. The kiss nearly knocked the wind out of her. Here was an experienced man, nothing like the idiots from the community theatre who hit on her relentlessly or the college frat boys that flocked to her when she was out with her friends. This was a man, and lord, how her body responded to it.

  Unbuttoning her jean shorts with one hand, she took his wrist in the other and guided it down her panties. He found her wet and ready, and he released a deep groan in the curve of her neck. As he stroked her clit, he kissed the soft spot behind her ear, his neatly trimmed beard tickling her. She groaned when he grabbed hold of her ass. Hell, yeah, this man knew what he was doing.

  “I want you to show me,” she said, nearly panting, “direct me how to do this right. Show me how to be what you want.”

  “Why do you want my approval so much?” His fingers worked her pussy until she was grinding against them. “What does a middle-aged man’s opinion matter? The other actors never get as bent out of shape as you when I critique them.”

  She bit his lower lip, and he closed his eyes, rubbing her slick juices to coat her cunt. “Because they obviously didn’t want you like this. I’ve wanted your approval since the first time you were a dick to me. You’re such an asshole. Damn it, it turns me on. I have to fight to impress you, and I’m not used to it.”