by ANDREA SMITH
I nodded, as if I knew exactly who he was referring to, when the truth was that I was completely clueless.
“Well, enjoy and don’t do anything tonight I wouldn’t do.” I playfully tousled his hair with my hand and I breezed past him.
He shook his head, giving me one of his all-American, hot guy smiles. I smiled back and left, heading to the elevator, still feeling relatively confident as I entered and pushed the button for the top floor.
I wondered what the Presidential Suite at the St. Regis had to offer tonight besides some fantastic cock. I giggled out loud at the prospect, and then quickly looked around and above me for the security cameras. Yep, there they were. Lucky for me they couldn’t read minds. I smiled, stepping out of the elevator into the massive hallway of the “top floor”.
Sweet Jesus! It certainly looked different than the hallway on our floor. It was polished black marble with flecks of gold sprinkled throughout; the walls were papered with very expensive looking, sound-proofing wall coverings.
The ‘Presidential Suite’ was at the very end of the hallway, its set of double-doors facing the hall. It was probably the biggest of the suites.
Once again, the butterflies surged in anticipation of what lay behind those doors and what was to come once I passed through them.
chapter 10
~ Easton ~
I was still drying off in the bath suite from my hot, then cold shower. That was a routine with me; always starting with extremely hot water, then finishing with cold to get me energised again. I was fucking jet-lagged as hell, but there was no way I was passing up spending time with sexy little Nicole tonight.
My now-dry cock twitched in response to where my mind had drifted. I wrapped a towel around my waist and took another one to my damp hair, rubbing furiously at it until it was at least semi-dry before Nicole graced my threshold. I had two nights in D.C. and I sure as hell was going to make the best of them with her. As much as my instincts told me to leave the girl alone, my cock had made the decision for me.
I was a man of varied tastes. This pertained to wines, liqueurs, gourmet food, clothing and most importantly, female companionship. The diversity in my tastes for female companionship was endless. I enjoyed white, black, Latino, Asian—hell, I’d tasted them all. I was enamored with American women as well, but the bulk of my time recently had been spent in London where my activities had been pretty much limited to Lacee, my executive assistant.
Don’t get me wrong, I love saucy, British women, but unfortunately, Lacee had become somewhat “territorial” over the past few months, so my supply had dwindled down to her alone. I knew that was her intent. I was well aware of the fact that Lacee had been intimidating other potential contenders for my attention. I’d said nothing because it amused me—briefly, though now it was just fucking annoying.
Lacee had grown prickly since I first laid eyes on Nicole and with good reason. She had sense enough to see that I wouldn’t be satisfied ignoring the dark-haired, sultry beauty for long. Hell, she saw it first-hand on the beach that day. After the unfortunate incident at Taz’s rehearsal dinner the other night, Lacee became downright insubordinate with me. It was just as well that I sent her on to New York, where I’d be going once my business in D.C. was concluded.
I’d made no secret to Lacee that my interest in her was purely physical. She’d known that going into our little “fuck” arrangement. I don’t change rules mid-stream. Ever. I don’t do relationships anymore, either. Not since the fiasco two years ago with Bianca Templeton had left me picking up the pieces of shattered trust. Notice I didn’t say heart? That’s because I don’t have one that’s breakable. My upbringing saw to that.
A knock sounded at the door of my suite. Still wrapped in my towel, I opened it to the sexy little prick-tease that stood there waiting.
“Good evening,” I grinned unabashedly, my cock stirring beneath the towel. Her lovely blue eyes flickered down my bare chest, noticing the towel hanging low on my hips. I smirked a little when her eyes returned to my face, noting the sudden blush she was now wearing.
“I take it you’re not into wasting time with having to undress, huh Easton?” she said with an impudent smile curving her full lips.
Fuck me. This one definitely has a little bite to her.
She breezed past me in the doorway, taking a few steps further down the marbled hallway to the matching foyer.
“Now, this is nice,” she commented, nodding her head. She was wearing a sweater and short, tight skirt that had my cock at half-mast already.
Christ that ass of hers is fucking epic. I’ll have to show her how hard an ass like that should be ridden later.
“If you’ll excuse me, Nicole,” I said, giving her an apologetic smile. “I seemed to have lost track of time. Make yourself comfortable in the living room please. I won’t be long.”
“It’s Darcy, remember?”
I moved in front of her and gazed down through my lashes, lifting a lock of her dark, brown hair from her shoulder, fingering the silky texture between my fingers. She was looking at me with just a tinge of defiance.
“To me, it’s Nicole. Allow me that single liberty, won’t you?” I watched as her eyebrows arched ever-so-slightly, not sure if this was a sincere request or some form of humour I was displaying. I didn’t possess a sense of humour. She’d learn that quickly as well.
“I have a feeling there’ll be many more liberties you require,” she replied. “But hey, whatever floats your boat, I guess,” she said with a shrug, no longer concerned about it being an issue. A good indication it was all about the sex with her as well. She sauntered through the foyer and made herself comfortable on the over-stuffed, velvet sofa in the living room.
I returned to my bedroom on the opposite side of the foyer and finished dressing, pulling on a pair of comfortable jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt. I wasn’t putting socks and shoes on at this stage. Hell, what was the point? We’d be having “break-in” sex within a matter of twenty minutes, by my estimation.
But first, I wanted to learn just a bit more about her. Remember, by definition “man-whore,” does not automatically constitute indiscriminate behaviour. I prided myself on conducting due diligence litmus testing prior to sexual interaction. Shortly after dressing, I went to the sideboard in the living room and poured each of us a glass of sherry. Nicole had put some music on in my absence: classical. I approved.
She accepted the glass of sherry from me and I noticed she’d shed the boots and was now barefoot as well. She had her legs folded to the side of her on the sofa, leaning in towards the centre.
“Thank you,” she whispered, putting on a somewhat shy and demure persona now. I unsuccessfully stifled a chuckle.
“What?” she asked, straightening herself up, quickly rebuilding that defensive wall.
“It’s nothing, relax,” I replied, taking a seat next to her, propping my legs on the coffee table in front of us. “I’m simply in awe of your chameleon-like temperament.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s a gift the way you manage to blend in at any social situation. You must know that.” I could tell she wasn’t convinced.
“Well, maybe it’s time to suspend the chameleon-like behavior then,” she replied, “I know why I’m here, Easton. Let’s not waste time with this whole seduction-scene you’ve got going on. I think you’ve figured out by now I’m pretty much of a sure thing tonight.”
“Aren’t you being a tad presumptuous, love?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t think so. You grabbed my ass during photos, then invited me to your suite at midnight after asking me for a slow dance, answered your door wearing a towel, and poured me a drink. And I’m still here. Now, are you going to unzip my skirt, or are we going to talk about the weather?”
I had to laugh at her genuineness with me, again extremely refreshing. “Well I appreciate your candidness for sure. But there are a few preliminary pieces of inf
ormation I need from you.”
She rolled her eyes, downed the rest of her sherry and sighed. “Yes, I am on birth control and yes, I still expect you to use a condom. Are we good? Because I’m about to lose my buzz here.”
“Not quite,” I replied, setting my glass down on the table and turning to her. “I’ll need your complete sexual history: names, approximate dates, types of sexual activities involved. I hope you don’t think that’s invasive. I prefer to think it’s circumspect.”
I watched her eyes widen as she considered what I was asking. Yep, there it was. She was starting a slow burn. She was on her feet instantly, giving me an incredulous glare.
“What the fuck? Is it customary for you to grill your one-night stands on their sexual history? Or maybe you’re just used to chicks like Lacee, who practically carry a certified copy around with them in their handbag or wallet—you know—just in case they have the honor of doing Easton Matthews.”
I fisted my hands at my sides, trying to control the urge to lay her, along with her impudence across my knee for a lesson in comportment; but at the same time…I felt a smile twitching in the corner of my lips.
“What makes you so certain this will be a one-night stand?” I asked quietly, my eyes boring into hers. She shifted nervously now, taking a half-step back from where I sat, unsure of how to answer, clearly confused.
I rose slowly from the sofa, and approached her carefully, so as not to clue her in to the fact that she was, indeed, my prey for the night and possibly for the rest of the weekend. It wouldn’t do to have her bolt on me now.
“Do you remember when I told you that I’d see you again?” I asked softly. “When I had you pressed up against the wall, and you had just come on my fingers?”
She swallowed nervously, biting her lower lip and nodded affirmatively. Her eyes were smoldering at the recollection; this was my signal to close this deal.
“I meant it,” I stated, our lips nearly touching.
I encircled her stiff body with my arms, drawing her against me. I raised my hands, framing her beautiful face as I lowered my lips to hers, capturing them in a sweet, tender kiss. So far, she wasn’t resisting, but I needed more. I continued to caress her lips with mine, tracing her bottom lip with my tongue, drinking in her heady scent. I felt her body relax against mine and, soon, her arms were snaked around my neck, her body molded to mine.
My tongue explored her mouth, our tongues melded together in an erotic ritual that was bringing my cock to full attention.
The things I wanted to do to this woman.
I lowered my arms and she allowed my hands to gently massage the swell of her perfect ass. Pulling her tightly against me, I let her feel my hard cock and she began to slowly move her hips rhythmically against it as I heightened our kiss, angling her mouth so that I could lick deeper.
When I slowly began to pull away, leaving her gasping and wide-eyed, I raised a hand to the nape of her neck.
“So then,” I moved my lips to the soft place just below her ear. “Is my prerequisite a deal breaker or not, Nicole?”
She was only hesitant for a nanosecond before responding. Her voice was low and husky as she looked up at me with those incredibly blue eyes. “I’d feel better writing it down. Can I have a piece of paper?”
chapter 11
I sat at the fancy, cherry-wood desk in the foyer and scribbled down names, dates, locations and sexual positions (the ones I could recall). Finally finished, thoroughly embarrassed, and majorly sexually frustrated, I stood up and found Easton on the sofa, his laptop perched on his lap.
“Finished?” he asked impassively, not bothering to look up from his keyboard.
He expects me to hand over details of my prior sex life? Umm…yeah, no!
“Yep, got your golden ticket right here,” I said, making no move to hand it over to him as he finally looked up at me.
I firmly put on my best poker face. “But here’s the thing,” I told him. “I still don’t understand why it is you need this, really. Once I hand this over…What? Are we in a relationship? Or fuck-buddies, maybe? And if that’s the case, I really don’t know how I feel about that, especially seeing as I haven’t gotten a chance to sample the goods.”
His lips twitched again. “‘Sample the goods’, love?” he asked in that sexy low voice of his.
“Yeah,” I affirmed. “You know, test out the waters to see if I even want to have a sexual relationship with you. I mean, Lacee was your personal assistant, right? She was on your payroll, basically. Meaning: you theoretically had to pay her to…well…assist you,” I could feel my cheeks start to heat up as I fumbled up that last statement. I noticed he was doing that quirking-up-his-brow thing again as I now had his full attention.
“Anyway,” I quickly continued on, “what I’m saying is, before I hand over my sexual history, I want to have a test-run.” God, he was raising both eyebrows now. “To see if you meet my standards.”
Meet my standards? Oh yeah, I was so hanging myself with my own rope now.
I felt as if I needed to remind myself to breathe after I made my point to him. It sounded way more powerful then it felt. I watched his reaction as he deliberated; an unfathomable expression passed over his face, his eyes almost glinted but I wasn’t sure if it was with anger, anticipation or something else altogether.
Easton set his laptop aside and rose from the sofa, coming to stand before me. A hint of a smile graced his lips.
“Come, then,” he said softly, an almost dangerous edge to his tone. Taking my hand, he led me from the living room to the suite’s master bedroom.
The massive, wrought iron bed in Easton’s suite had already been turned down for the evening. He gently placed me on the bed, facing him as his hands expertly lifted my sweater up over my head. He unhooked my bra, pulling it from me and dropping it to the floor. His hands gently caressed my breasts, his thumbs bringing my nipples to quick attention. I watched as he slid his jeans down, noticing he was commando as his thick, long cock sprang free.
In its hardened state, it rose up, resting well past his navel. Not only that, he had a fucking piercing on the head of his dick. A Prince Albert, Prince William—whatever the fuck it was called! I’d never dealt with piercings like that before…and the fact that Easton had a piercing there surprised the hell out of me. I gasped audibly at the size of it.
He must’ve seen the look of surprise on my face (and okay, I’m sure there was a good dose of excitement there too) because the grin that was there before quickly made itself into a smirk.
“It’s too bad you wanted to use your sexual history to barter with, Nicole,” he said, stroking himself, which only brought more attention to his pierced cock. “I think you would’ve enjoyed feeling me unsheathed.”
Well played, Easton…Well played.
The bastard was teasing me, but I damn well wasn’t going to give in so quickly. I had…bigger things to worry about.
“Easton—I’m not sure if this is going to work,” I squeaked, mentally chastising myself at being a coward all of a sudden. Had the men in my sexual repertoire all been “needle dicks?” No, it wasn’t possible; five-plus guys who, for the most part, seemed average or above, but this—this was something beyond average.
“Hush,” he murmured, slipping my skirt off of me, hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband of my thong, and sliding it down past my feet. “You and I’ll make it work. Trust me?”
I nodded affirmatively; what choice did I have?
Go big, or go home, right? No pun intended.
He raised me up off of the bed and placed me gently on my back, my head resting comfortably on the mass of satin covered pillows. I watched as his head dipped to my core, kissing my very sensitive skin tenderly.
“This is what I was thinking about while we were having our pictures today; about how your pussy would taste,” he whispered harshly.
I never realized how much a handful of words could turn me on, b
ut damn, this man knew how to use them. I relaxed against the satin sheets as Easton began a slow, pleasurable trail with his tongue, twirling and nipping at the soft folds of my sex. His tongue worked magic as it explored each and every fold with determination and expertise. My hips gyrated as he suckled gently on my swollen clit. I moaned as my body responded to him like no one before. I felt his teeth, ever so gently, nibble on the hood surrounding this engorged bundle of nerve endings, feeling pleasure seep through my entire body.
“Easton, please,” I said, breathing heavily, no longer concerned about the length or girth of his cock. “I want you inside of me,” I gasped.
“Be patient.”
He slipped a finger into my now well-lubricated pussy, and then another, exploring me with a purpose. My legs were now wrapped around his back, as he continued the gentle probing inside, searching for that special spot. I squirmed a bit as he hovered at my apex, his lips still working my pussy, the pads of his fingers now focused on the spot deep within me. He moaned as he continued flexing his fingers, delivering intermittent pressure on the area inside of me with his fingertips.
“Oh God!” I screamed, my hips now moving furiously in response. He slowed his rhythm, pulling his fingers out and I thought I would die.
What??
“No baby,” he replied, “Not yet. I want to enter you from behind.”
Oh God! I don’t do anal…
He must’ve read my look of alarm as he chuckled softly. “I didn’t mean that,” he clarified. “I promise you, this will be alright.”
He lifted me up, positioning me in front of him on my hands and knees. His hands started again, massaging my ass, as I could feel myself once again craving his fulfillment. I felt his lips graze my back and my butt, his fingers resuming the pleasurable stroking of my clit. He stopped momentarily and I heard the sound of the condom packet being ripped open. It only took a few seconds for him to sheath his impressive cock. I wondered if I’d be able to feel his piercing with the condom covering it.