Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  Stop analyzing the situation and have some fun for a change.

  Yes, that is exactly what I have to do. I have to take my mind off our random encounter, and focus on the immediate. The latter is much easier than the former. What man in their right mind wouldn’t focus on an insanely hot blonde like her? I have to struggle to keep my gaze away from her silky thighs.

  The bar in the lobby is dark and rather empty. Numerous red, blue, and green spotlights on the ceiling are the only illumination. There can’t be more than ten people in there. Soft music is playing from the speakers. I sweep the hall, searching for a more private spot. The upper right corner looks ideal. It’s even darker than the rest of the bar, and far enough from a group of three, middle-aged women.

  “Emily’s going to be mad,” Stacy chuckled, looking around her. “She wanted to go out tonight.”

  “Yeah, so did my friends,” I say, leaning my back against my seat. “In fact, I’m pretty sure one of them is getting wasted as we speak.”

  “He’s not an alcoholic, is he?” she asks, a hint of discomfort in her tone.

  “No, no,” I shake my head sideways. “Ray just likes to drink on occasion. Dean doesn’t drink much, either. He’s addicted to something a lot more dangerous: speed. He loves to ride motorcycles.”

  “Is their friend Michael addicted to anything?” Stacy poses another question, her voice losing volume, her blue eyes gray in the dim illumination as she leaned over towards me.

  “Beautiful eyes,” My response is sharp. “I just can’t get enough of them.”

  Her lush lips curl into a broad smile once more. I’m not a fool; I can tell she likes me, but I need to be careful. I’ve been with enough women to know that sudden or rush moves can destroy everything. She opens her mouth, ready to go on, but the arrival of a young waitress doesn’t allow her to do so.

  “Hi. I’ll have a beer,” I place my order, tossing a swift glance up at her.

  “Beer for me, too,” Stacy requests, her eyes still locked with mine. Twisting a strand of her hair around her index finger, she caresses my knee. I catch the tip of her tongue on her lower lip out of the corner of my eye. I don’t need any more signs. I lean in, feeling my blood throb through my ears. Stacy reaches up to cup my cheek, our mouths joining in a passionate kiss. I let her feminine scent flow through my nostrils, savoring her warm, wet lips. I throw my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer, her fingers sliding up my face and into my hair. Within moments, her teeth are grazing my lower lip, demanding more. I swipe my tongue along the seam of her mouth, exhaling hard. Her low whimper makes my cock twitch in my pants. Reaching down, I feel the smoothness of her thigh in my hand. I trail my fingers up, a crazy thought running through my mind.

  I want to fuck you, right here, right now.

  This woman keeps on stunning me. I’ve been kissed dozens of times, but I’ve never felt desire overwhelming me this fast. Maybe it’s her smile. Maybe it’s her sexy body, or her attitude. Perhaps it’s all of the above. In any case, Stacy is testing my limits just by being here. I squeeze her firm flesh, my pinky brushing the fabric of her shorts. The annoying sound of a bottle being slammed onto the wooden surface of the table acts like a wakeup call. I ease back, narrowing my eyes to slits, my breath still a little heavy.

  “So hot…” Stacy whispers, her own eyes blazing with raw heat as she lets go of my face.

  “Stop tempting me, you sexy little thing,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Or what?” she teases, her face still just a couple of inches away from mine, her smile returning.

  “Or I’m going to yank those tiny little shorts off and fuck you on the table,” I explain, my voice bass-deep.

  “I like the way that sounds,” Stacy confesses, picking her beer up from the table. Lifting it up to her mouth, she takes a sip, leaving me at a loss for words. Still, this isn’t a time for words. It is a time for action. I don’t give her a chance to finish her drink. I grab her by the wrist, feeling my heart thump against my chest. Moving around the table, I lead her away from the bar. I can’t wait to be alone with her. I can’t wait to see for myself just how naughty this beautiful blonde can be.

  3

  Stacy

  Michael Donovan – or perhaps I should say, six feet and three inches of pure, sexual magnetism – has just drawn me into his world, making me ache for him with his broad, masculine chest; cut biceps; bulging shoulders; strong jaw; and pair of hazel eyes that are talking right to my soul. Not that they need to, though. I knew I wanted to have him the moment I laid my eyes on him. I’m not a fan of romantics. I think they tend to get too corny sometimes, and Michael isn’t an exception to that rule. I mean, I found him playing the guitar on an empty beach, for God’s sake. What kind of man flies thousands of miles away from home, and then doesn’t get some rest or go out with his friends? However, it’s not his character that lures me to him like a moth to a flame. It’s his impeccable physique. So far, I have flirted with a couple of locals, but neither of them looked anywhere near as good.

  By the time I find myself standing outside his door, ways to seduce him are tumbling through my mind. I don’t wait for him to go in first. Instead, I pass him by, swaying my hips back and forth. I turn right and into the corridor that leads to the bedroom as he closes the door behind him. I stride in, and then kick my shoes away. I lie in bed, but turn over on my back, his footsteps getting louder. Michael stops under the doorframe, with a surprise for me. He’s no longer wearing his tee. I scan his body, from bottom to top. The bulge in his shorts makes me bite my bottom lip, but it’s not the only delicious thing about him. I stare at the deep ridges of his abs, moving my legs apart. I undo my shorts, moisture gathering between my thighs. I lift my legs up in the air, my gaze following him. He doesn’t allow me to undress myself. He pulls the shorts up and off my feet, before wrapping his arms around my calves.

  “Talk about legs…” he says, his voice raspy with wanton desire. I flash him a smug smile, his flattery sending more waves of arousal to wash over me. I rest my index finger on my mouth, watching him bend towards me. Even though he couldn’t keep his hands off me earlier, he proves that he wants to take his time with me. Michael begins to trail soft kisses down my calf, stroking my flesh. Willing to tempt him some more, I lift my t-shirt up, exposing my breasts. I push them together, gauging his reaction. The deep grunt that escapes him forces a loud whimper from me. I close my eyes and lay back down, feeling his mouth on my inner thigh.

  “I can’t wait to eat you up,” he murmurs, his hands caressing my outer thighs.

  “Do it…” I whimper once more, his words turning me on even further. I can suspect what he has in mind, but now that he’s said it, I am desperate to feel him on my pussy. Michael lets go of my leg, only to push my bikini bottom to the side. “Oh, my God…” I moan, squeezing my eyes shut as his lips close around my clit. He doesn’t stay there, though. In a matter of seconds, he is French-kissing my pussy, using his free hand to spread my legs open. I prop myself up on my shoulders, slowly opening my eyes. I reach over to him, and run my hand through his hair, his long grunts shows me that he is enjoying this as much as I am. Michael darts his tongue against my clit, his fingers traveling up my stomach. I grab a fistful of his hair, focusing my gaze on his massive back. I just love how his large muscles flex. This sexy bastard is keeping me submissive, a slave to his whims. He can do whatever he wants to me for all I care. I have more than just his attention. He is worshipping me. Details like “who’s in control” mean nothing to me.

  “Yeah, baby!” I groan as the tip of his tongue dances around my entrance and his fingers curl around my breast. Without wasting any time, he squeezes my nipple between his thumb and index finger. Michael compresses and releases, running his tongue up and down my pussy. I grip the sheets hard, my moans getting louder by the second. I feel like I’m going to melt under his sensual assault. Pinching my nipple, he sucks my cunt like he’s sucking the juice out of a half-peeled peach. What he does
next is a major shock to me. His warm, wet tongue snakes its way between my folds as he pinches my nipple.

  “Fuck!” I cry out, tossing my head back, gripping his hair so hard that I’m sure I hurt him. Still, he doesn’t let up. On the contrary, Michael lets out a deep groan, and starts to drive his tongue in and out of me. Pushing my breast upward, he opens his eyes and looks up into mine. It is as if he wants to see all the heat in them while he coaxes me closer to orgasm. His upper lip is hitting my clit with every push, sending warm rushes of pleasure through my body. I press him down onto me, bucking up my hips. For the first time, I want to have some control over the action. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bang my hand onto the mattress, his deep penetration quickening more and more by the second. My moans resound through the walls of his suite as my orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. Writhing beneath him, I cry out with pleasure as ample juices flow out of my core. I swallow hard, my breath coming out in pants when Michael eases his tongue out of me. Pressing a swift kiss on my clit, he sits up and licks his lips.

  “Oh, you bastard…” I gasp, a smile of bliss spreading across my face.

  “You’re delicious, naughty girl,” Michael utters, sliding his shorts down his legs. My gaze immediately shoots down his body. The sight that greets me takes my breath away. Eight, rock-hard inches are right there in front of me, ready to quench my desire. He wraps his fingers around his shaft and pulls his foreskin back, exposing the swollen head. Two, thick drops of pre-cum drip out of the tiny hole and land on the sheets as he eases it forward.

  “Yum…” I silently mouth, my core aching with desire. He keeps his mouth shut and bites his bottom lip, lying on top of me. I throw my arms around his back as he sears his lips to mine. Our second kiss is nothing like the first. There is no hesitation or awkwardness of any sort. Michael’s passion is literally pouring out of him. With his entire length pressing against my stomach, I rake my fingernails down his back. He delves his tongue into my mouth and circles my tongue with tiny, teasing strokes. I grab and hold onto his shoulder blades as he reaches down. Pulling his cock out from between our bodies, he rubs the head against my clit, teasing me some more.

  “Give it to me,” I urge him, my voice a raspy whisper. In a moment, I feel his stiff shaft parting my pussy lips. I moan harder into his mouth, wrapping my legs around his hips. Little by little, he stretches me out, running his hands up my outer thighs.

  “You’re so fucking wet,” he growls into my lips, burying himself deep inside of me.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” I say to him, gazing deep up into his eyes. “Don’t hold back. Pound me.”

  Those last words slip out my mouth. I didn’t mean to tell him what to do, but I am not in the mood for a slow-paced encounter. He has made sure of that. Michael withdraws, the sensation from his juicy cock between my legs intensifying. He kisses my chin, going back in as I stroke his back. Working his way down, he quickens his pace. He releases my left leg, laying open mouth kisses on my chest. I just can’t believe him. Instead of bracing himself on his arms, he wants to pay attention to me – again. And I’d be a fool to stop him or complain to him. Pounding away into me, he runs deliberate circles around my nipple. I sink my long fingernails into his skin the moment he takes my breast into his mouth. He is hitting my clit, his big, hard cock satisfying my lust. I let off an even louder moan as he flicks his tongue over my nipple. He grazes his teeth on my supersensitive skin, his heavy balls slapping against my ass. I can feel my juices flowing down my ass cheeks. All of a sudden, he kisses his way up my chest once again. When I feel his lips back on mine, I pull him onto me in a tight embrace.

  “Don’t stop!” I cry out, feeling my second orgasm getting closer. He doesn’t. He keeps on thrusting into me, gently biting my lower lip. I throw my head back, my hand stopping on the back of his neck. I grip him hard, my knees starting to tremble. My pussy muscles clench around his shaft as more of my moans fill his bedroom. The waves of my climax shoot through me, making me scream with pleasure. I hold onto him, pressing the heels of my feet against his lower back. Michael stills his hips, just before he explodes deep inside of me. Overflowing with bliss, I open my blurry eyes, and wipe a drop of sweat from his brow.

  “Oh, baby…” he gasps out, rolling over on his back. “What the hell just happened?”

  “Do you really not know?” I tease, turning my head to the right to face him.

  “That’s not what I mean,” Michael claims. “It just…” he pauses, “happened a little too fast.”

  “I think people call it ‘chemistry,’” I say, my tone deepening. “Anyway…” I sigh, scooting over to the edge of the bed. “I’ve got to run. My friend’s going to be worried sick by now.”

  “Call her,” he suggests, shrugging his shoulders. “Come on; the night’s still young. Don’t go.”

  “I’m sorry, Michael,” I make my voice sound sweeter, grabbing my shorts from the floor. “I want to stay, too, but she’ll bite my head off tomorrow if I spend the night here. Besides, you said you just got here. Aren’t you tired?”

  “Right,” Michael agrees with a nod, dragging his gaze away from me as I fish into my purse. I pull a small notebook and a pen out and write down my phone number. I rip the page off, wishing I could do this sometime in the morning.

  “Here,” I murmur, handing the page over to him. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”

  “I will,” he nods, sitting up.

  “I had a great time,” I whisper, leaning over towards him. “Goodnight,” I give him a peck of a kiss on his mouth and turn around. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t do this to him. I don’t like to ditch men in the middle of the night, especially after amazing sex. Yet, these were not normal circumstances. I am thousands of miles away from home, and my best friend has been waiting for me for far too long.

  4

  Stacy

  As I walk out of that hotel lobby, I feel like I’m on top of the world. I can’t even remember the last time I have felt so good. Still, that tiny little word isn’t enough to describe the emotions that are swirling through me. I have had a few one-night stands in my life, but none of them resembles this one. My lovers have been much too selfish; not to mention the awkwardness that has followed after the sex. Michael has been the exact opposite of that. And, for some reason I don’t understand, there was nothing awkward between us. Instead, we acted as if we had known each other for months. Yes, there is chemistry between us, which somewhat frustrates me. We are both on vacation. I doubt if we’ll get to spend a week or so together. What happens next? He lives in New York, and I live in Miami.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself, Stacy. This is a just a summer fling.

  This thought provides the answer for which I’ve been looking. Okay, we’ve gotten off to an incredible start, but we are both taking a break from reality. It cannot evolve into anything bigger.

  I stroll down the beach, the taste of his kisses still strong in my mouth. Unfortunately, however, the moment I spot Emily pacing up and down in the front yard of our hotel with her hands on her waist, I have to put that beautiful thought aside. Only when our eyes meet, do I realize just how angry she is. The usual green of them has disappeared altogether. In its stead is some off shade of brown, and the skin on her face is stiff.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she shouts, tossing a ferocious glare up at me.

  “Em, I’m sorry, I…” I falter. “I met someone on the beach.”

  “What?” she squeals, her brows shooting up. “What are you talking about?”

  “Black hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, 6’3”, huge chest, washboard abs,” I explain, a wicked smile bursting upon my lips. “He was just delicious.”

  “I don’t care how hot he is,” Emily rants on in a stern tone, furrowing her brow. “You should have called. Whoa!” she exclaims. “I’m sorry; did I hear you correctly? Was delicious? You…”

  “Fucked him?” I finish her sentence; “Yeah.”

  “Holy crap…” she sighs, running bo
th of her hands through her black, curly hair.

  “Why are you acting like this?” I wonder, a hint of surprise in my tone.

  “Can you even hear yourself?” Emily answers my question with a question of her own. “I mean, you ran into him and you fucked him? Just like that?”

  “Em, we’re on vacation!” I retort, my jaw tightening. “We didn’t come here just for the nice weather, did we? What am I supposed to do, play hard to get?”

  “That wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” she grumbles, stepping closer to me. “Is he a local?”

  “Nope,” I shake my head sideways, once. “His name’s Michael. He’s from New York. And my guess is you’ll meet him soon. I gave him my number before I left.”

  “You guys knew each other for like twenty minutes and you put out. Let’s see,” Emily raised her face to look up into the sky, tapping her index finger on her chin in mock reasoning. She then stated skeptically, “There’s no way in hell he’s going to call you.”

  “Something tells me he is,” I disagree, my smug smile coming back. “He’s a romantic soul. I found him on the beach, playing the guitar.”

  “I thought you didn’t like romantics,” Emily comments, her gaze shooting back down to meet mine.

  “I don’t,” I affirm. “But, like I said, we’re on vacation, and he’s just smoking hot. His kiss had me swooning. I just had to have him. We went to his suite and he just…” I pause; “worshipped me like no one’s ever done before.”