The Dean’s List

by Collins, Kelly

  “I will never strike you. I’m not into that. I will have you—sometimes hard and fast, sometimes hard and slow. There are times I will take you for hours, times I will take you quickly. I will always see to your needs first. I find great pleasure in giving pleasure. I don’t want to hear of other men. I won’t tell you about other women. Tonight, it’s just you and me, and not having you immediately will drive me insane.” His hands slipped between my legs and floated across me from slit to crack. He stopped on my ass. “Your profile says you do anal. How many times have you done it?”

  Panting, I exhaled the word, “Never.” His hands pressed between my ass cheeks to touch my tightly puckered flesh.

  “Take it off your list. No other man will have this part of you. This belongs to me alone.”

  His words stunned me. He wanted a part of me to be kept exclusively for him. Was I crazy to be flattered by that? Should I be angry he was setting expectations? Shouldn’t I be the one to decide?

  His words made me pulse with need, though. I sucked in a breath as he pressed a long finger into my dripping sex. Slow strokes built heat and a second finger joined the first. My legs opened wider on their own. Unbidden moans floated through the air. Were they his or mine? I stood in front of the window for all to see, but the only eyes I cared about were his.

  “Jonathan, I need…” I tried to turn, but he held me against the cold, hard glass. My nipples pebbled painfully against the coolness of the window. Need overwhelmed me. The warmth of his body called me. “I need—”

  “I know exactly what you need, and I’m going to give it to you again and again. You will feel me until Saturday, when I can sink myself into you again. You may be with others, but it will be me you will remember. It will be my tongue and my dick you will see and feel every time.”

  Holy shit, the man’s an arrogant bastard.

  But I had to admit, it was part of what made him so damn sexy. His fingers left me, and I felt empty. I didn’t move from the window because that was where he had placed me. The pop of the champagne bottle startled me, and my mouth began to water. The heavy breathing had dried my tongue. His heat snuck up on me, his body pinned mine to the glass. The rigid length of him pressed against me.

  “Turn around, River. I want to see all of you.”

  He stepped back to give me room to spin. My nipples stood erect under his gaze. He sipped his champagne and brought his liquid-filled mouth to my needy breast. Sucking the pink bud inside, the heat of his tongue battled the bubbly frost of the drink. The sensation was incredible. Rumor had it that men drank champagne from women’s shoes. I wondered if any had sipped it from their most intimate parts. How would that feel?

  My hand found its way to his length. With slow, deliberate movements, I wrapped it around the bulge in his pants and stroked. Growling, he ground himself into my palm. The man was hung. When he said I’d feel him until Saturday, he probably wasn’t exaggerating. Relieving him of his glass, I drank the remainder and dropped to my knees. It was time to let this beast loose.

  He assisted by pulling his belt free. I worked on his button and zipper. Who would have thought the conservative-looking man in the custom suit went commando? He stepped out of his shoes and pants and stood in front of me in a dress shirt, vest, tie, and jacket. I began to giggle when I looked at the black socks. Humor lit up his eyes when he saw his reflection in the window.

  After a good laugh, I focused my attention on his magnificent length. The plush tip of his head had a bead of his desire pooled at the tip. My head tilted back, and my eyes searched his for the answer to the question I refused to ask.

  “I’m clean,” he said.

  I licked the salty goodness that seeped from his tip and slid his length past my lips and into the wet warmth of my mouth. I explored him with my tongue, trying to memorize every dip, every vein. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched articles of clothing hit the floor around me. God, was he big. There was no way I could take him in completely, but I endeavored to try. My hands found their way to his ass. I kneaded the firm globes and pulled him to me, forcing him down my throat. This man could choke a seasoned pro. He backed away and pulled me up to stand in front of him.

  My eyes scanned the goods. For forty-two, he was in really good shape. His time on the golf course showed. A lean, muscled torso tapered into narrow hips, strong thighs, and defined calves. When I got to the black socks, I laughed again.

  “Get rid of the socks. They’re not doing it for me.”

  “I’ll show you what I’ll do for you.” He quickly pulled off the socks and dove toward me. In one smooth movement, he lifted me over his shoulder and took me to the bed.

  I bounced across the top when he released me, coming to stop near the head of the big bed. Dressed in heels, garters, and hose, I felt sexy under his heated gaze. I stared at his body and thanked the heavens he was my first. If the night ended right now, I would walk away feeling positive about the choice I’d made.

  My shoes hit the floor one after another. Next to go was the hose, and last, the garter. His eyes ate me alive before he turned and walked away. His firm ass flexed with each step. I lifted up on my elbows, curious to see what he was doing. With champagne-filled glasses in one hand, he walked toward me. Stopping at his trousers, he pulled a condom from his pocket. It struck me as funny how I’d suck him bare, but I would never let him go skin-to-skin inside me.

  I never heard the wrapper tear or saw him slide the latex over his length, but he towered over me, dressed in his latex slicker, ready to go. He handed me a glass of champagne and toasted to new beginnings. With the flip of a switch, the lights were dimmed and the glow of the city blanketed our bodies. He removed the champagne flute from my hand and set it on the nightstand. My heart began to pound. Every quiver, every pulse had led to this moment. He climbed my body, nudging my legs apart. I felt him press at my entrance. Hot lips traced up the column of my neck and lingered at the place where my blood pulsed.

  He nudged gently at my opening, pressing just the head inside. Words slipped from my mouth. “Oh…yes.”

  “Yes?” he questioned. I looked into his eyes and saw them darken with lust.

  “Yes. It’s so good. I need…”

  I didn’t have to say it. Jonathan knew what I needed. He covered my mouth with his lips and plunged deep inside of me. In spite of his size, my body adjusted readily. After hours of teasing, he had me primed, wet, and waiting for the exact moment he entered me.

  “Damn. So good.”

  His words almost mimicked mine. Slow, powerful thrusts pulled sounds from me I never knew existed. A cat-like purr rumbled from my chest. His lips bruised mine in punishing kisses. Hard strokes pulled me to the edge. Soft strokes calmed my trembling body. Up and down, in and out, he took me until all I could do was shake beneath him.

  His warm palms grabbed handfuls of my ass until my bottom no longer touched the bed. The position placed him in the perfect spot to massage my sex. He knew exactly what he was doing. His thrusts became stronger. His pace quickened. My body tightened, clenched, and squeezed around him. The build-up was exquisite. I closed my eyes as I fell.

  “Open your eyes, River, I want to see you.”

  My eyes fluttered open as I cascaded over the edge. I can’t say I saw him. My vision was lost the minute I broke into a million pieces. My body was still pulsing when his own orgasm took him. He called out my name and let the weight of his body fold over me.

  Sweaty and sated, we lay together until our breaths steadied. He rolled over, leaving me alone in the bed. This was the awkward moment where I had no idea what to do. Did I get up and get dressed? Did I lay here and relax? He did say we were going to do this over and over again. His shadow fell across the bed, the bathroom light framed his silhouette. I sprawled across the bed naked while he stared.

  “Beautiful.”

  One word, and my body reacted. He pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed. Patting the space next to him, I pulled back my side and pressed my bo
dy into his. With my head on his chest and his arms wrapped around me, I fell asleep.

  My body was on fire. My nipples ached. Round two began in my slumber. He poked and prodded, licked and laved until I woke up in need. Once awake, I took over. I suckled and squeezed, nipped and nibbled until he was begging me for release.

  The sound of his alarm woke us up the third time. Who got up at five-thirty? Apparently, Jonathan and his broom. We had sex in an unhurried fashion. He ordered room service, checked his e-mails, and left me while he took a shower. Dressed in the hotel-supplied robe, I answered the door and guided the waiter to the table. Pulling a twenty from my purse, I tipped the man as he left.

  “You signed for it, right?”

  He stood in the bathroom doorway, wrapped in a towel. Droplets of water fell from his hair to his chest. I was mesmerized by his beauty, and blown away because that beauty had been mine. All. Night. Long. He was gorgeous, skilled, and an extremely generous lover, and I was thankful he had been my first.

  “Yes. What did you order?” I pulled the covers from the plates and found bacon, scrambled eggs, potatoes, and toast. He put on the other robe and joined me for breakfast.

  “The tip could have gone on the bill.” He obviously saw more than I intended.

  “Yes, it could have.” That’s all I said as I picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it. I was famished.

  “I ordered scrambled eggs because it’s the least risky. I prefer over-medium eggs, but I hate it if the whites are runny, so I settle for scrambled when I’m out. It’s safer. What classes do you have today?”

  “International Business is my first class, then I have Accounting and Entrepreneurship.”

  “That’s a lot.”

  “Yes, but I have all night to do homework.” If his grin was any indication, I think he liked the fact that I wasn’t going out tonight with another man. “What about you?”

  “Oh, I’m meeting with some top-level planners to talk strategy. I’m having lunch with a friend, and then I’m heading home.”

  “Thanks for a great night last night. It was a wonderful experience, and I enjoyed your company. I’m looking forward to Saturday.” I’d really like to throw myself into his arms right now, but that was something a girlfriend would do. Not something I should.

  As if reading my mind, he scooted his chair back and patted his lap, inviting me to crawl into the comfort of his arms. How did he know?

  He smelled fresh, but not like him. His cologne was washed away, and his scent was unfamiliar. His lips soft and supple brushed against mine. His hands slipped inside my robe to fondle my breasts. His presence in my body lingered, the tenderness he created would stay with me for days.

  “River, you’re incredible. I knew you would be. I’m already hard thinking about Saturday.” He pulled my hand down to feel his erection. My eyes grew big. He couldn’t possibly want me again. “Don’t worry, I won’t take you again. Your body has given so much already.” With a kiss to my lips, he set me on my feet and began to dress.

  “You didn’t bring a bag either.” It hadn’t dawned on me last night that we’d both walked into the hotel with nothing. He put on his pants and proceeded to pull himself together.

  “I wasn’t sure how the night would go. I had hoped, but I didn’t assume. I have a spare suit at the office, so I’ll change there. Don’t forget to update your limits list. Selfishly, I want that one thing reserved for me.” Anal. He was referring to anal sex and his desire to be my first. Well, it looks like Jonathan will be my first for a lot of things. “Go take advantage of that big shower.”

  I did as commanded and walked into the massive multi-jetted steam shower. The water massaged my sore body. Every part of me ached, but in a good way. I stepped out and wrapped the plush robe around my body. The entire time in the shower, all I could think about was Jonathan and his reference to anal sex. Surely, I could ask him when he planned to do that. It was going to take both mental and physical preparation. I would take care of the mental and pray that he eased into the physical portion.

  “Hey, Jonathan,” I called as I walked into the empty room.

  He had snuck out while I was showering, and my heart squeezed ever so slightly from his dismissal. Carefully laid out on the bed were my clothes. A note with several hundred dollars sat on the nightstand. Up until now, I felt like a normal woman having a sexy time with a virile man. Looking at the money, the reality of what I was hit me. I was officially a whore.

  Chapter 11

  Something about the money on the nightstand sucked the air from my lungs. Three hundred dollars lay out in a fan. A tip for a job well done. Most girls would have been pleased. Not me. I felt dirty. Not because I had sex for cash, but because I’d loved it, and loving it made me a whore. Every single kiss. Every single caress. Every single thrust was perfect. I would have done him for free.

  I dressed and stared at the note he left me.

  You are sunshine. Looking forward to Saturday.

  Jonathan

  Was I sunshine? I don’t think I’d ever been compared to sunshine. I’d been called a lot of things, but no one had ever called me sunshine. The thought warmed me. I scooped up the cash and walked out the door. I tiptoed across the lobby, afraid everyone who glanced my way would know what I’d done. They would know I just screwed my way to a three-hundred-dollar tip. Hurriedly, I exited the front door to flag down a taxi. When you were at the Four Seasons Hotel, hailing a cab was easy.

  The morning commute was a bitch. It took forty minutes to get home. Even though I’d already showered, I forced myself to do it again. It wasn’t about scrubbing Jonathan from my skin; it was about scrubbing the fact that I’d just prostituted myself from my brain. I’d enjoyed it, and that made me feel dirty.

  In an attempt to feel like myself, I tossed on my favorite red oxford shirt and my old, worn jeans. Sliding into my Tom’s loafers, I dashed out the door to meet Jade for coffee. I hoped her evening had gone better than the one before. If she showed up sullen again, I’d be tracking the damn duo down. No one was going to beat the spirit out of my friend.

  I relaxed in the corner booth with two vanilla lattes and a cranberry scone, waiting for Jade to show. I sent a note to Sandra, asking her to remove anal and any BDSM-related items from my profile. I imagined she thought I had tried it and decided to pass. I didn’t care what she assumed. I was not getting beaten, and I promised my ass to Jonathan.

  Jade walked in the door looking more like herself. She was dressed in slacks and a long-sleeved silk blouse. The bruises around her wrists wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.

  “Hey, ho,” she said before she collapsed into the booth across from me, her crooked grin another sign that all went well at home last night.

  “Who you calling a ho?” I puffed out my chest and did my best gangsta impression. I could play “girls from the hood”, too.

  “I calls ’em like I sees ’em.” She took a drink from her latte. Her tongue swirled the edge of her lips, sweeping at the foam.

  “Are you visually impaired?” My comeback made the liquid squirt through her nose. We both began to laugh, and it felt so good to let loose the way we used to.

  “Tell me about your night. Was it awful? Did he live up to your expectations? I want details. How big is the broom?” Reaching over, she stole a piece of my scone.

  “You first. I want to make sure you’re okay. How were things with the duo last night?”

  Her answer whooshed out. “Good. Everything is good. More than good.”

  “Come on, Jade. Yesterday you were despondent, and today you’re different—happier. What gives?”

  “The duo made amends. We sat down last night and talked about what happened. They know they failed me. They feel awful. Anyway, we won’t be inviting others into our play. The problem is solved.”

  I would never understand the dynamics of their relationship. What did they call it…an exchange of power? I’ve found over the years that my power either lies in my sense of
humor or my silence. It wasn’t easy to gain power when you were invisible. Working with The Dean’s List was the first time I’d felt like I had any kind of control. I got to decide who, and when.

  Ping.

  My phone chimed with an incoming message.

  Sunshine,

  Thank you. Sandra sent out your new limits list.

  Jonathan

  “Your face just lit up. Who’s texting you?” She looked like she was going to pounce on me or my phone.

  “J…I mean Mr. Broom. He asked for something, and I agreed to give it to him. He just thanked me.”

  She said my face lit up. Maybe like sunshine? My inner joy must be oozing out of my pores. My emotions are all over the map. This morning, I felt sullied by what I was but satisfied with what I did. How does one come to terms with the opposing forces?

  Jade leaned into the center of the table. She glanced around the room. “What did you promise him?” Her whisper was barely audible. I felt like we were spies planning espionage.

  Leaning toward her, I whispered, “My ass.”

  “Holy shit,” she yelled, not caring who heard. All eyes were on us. “Exclusively?”

  “Yep. He’s a good guy, Jade, and he made me feel like I mattered. He didn’t hide me, he was proud to be with me. I appreciated that.” Leaning into the center where all secrets were shared, I said, “The only time I felt like a whore was when he left a tip on the nightstand.” I pulled the note from my purse and pushed it toward her. She began to shake her head.

  “I’m warning you. This is like when you were a virgin. Your first is always special. Don’t get attached to him. He’s probably married and has a half-dozen kids living in a house in Connecticut.”

  “I’m not attached to him. It was very clear what I was, especially when I saw the note and cash. I’m a girl for hire. There’s no denying it now, but I’m glad he picked me. If I’m going to take part in something like this, at least he can be my rainbow.”

  “Well, apparently he thinks you’re like sunshine. What do you have down there? A magical vagina?” She said the word vagina with a bit too much enthusiasm. The older couple seated at the booth across from us looked down their noses with a shame on you look.