by Sally Apple
“Are you going to be a good girl now?” he asked.
She felt confused. What did it mean exactly to be good? If cheating on Dickie was wrong, would she have to change her ways? Never see Thor again? “I don’t know if I can.”
“You get three more swats, then we’ll see whether you can make up your mind or not.” He delivered them rapidly, yet firmly, as though to prevent her the time to beg and plead between each swat.
Her butt cheeks stung like fury. Tears squirted from her eyes, and she began to sob.
Again his hands soothed her burning flesh. “That’s all for now. But if you aren’t a good girl, I’ll have to spank you again.”
Shelley gave in to her turbulent feelings. Weeping released her pent-up guilt, and she gave in to her remorse. Crying drained her emotionally. On the other hand, her arousal didn’t diminish, but grew as Thor continued to stoke her fires with his gentle touch.
“Shelley, I can’t resist you,” he confessed. A zipping sound made her suspect Thor of opening his fly and bringing his big cock into play. Unless she was mistaken, he was also ripping open a condom packet.
“Does that mean you forgive me?” Her heart swelled with hope.
“All forgiven.”
Sure enough, the rounded tip of his penis nudged her labia. He rubbed the tip from one end of her exposed crease to the other, moistening the head of his shaft. Then he centered on her entrance and shoved his cock slowly inside her.
“Ooh,” she moaned. “Yes…”
As she took the full length of his cock, his balls bounced against her sensitive nerve endings. An orgasm grew more imminent. He withdrew, then thrust into her again. His impossibly huge organ seemed to swell, filling her to capacity. Gathering steam, he rammed into her, again and again, pushing her higher, and yet higher. Delicious tremors, centered between her legs, radiated throughout her lower body.
His fingers spread her cheeks to allow room for maximum penetration, and he leaned into her, grinding his pelvis against her crotch.
“Yes, oh, yes!” she cried, as powerful contractions rocked her to the core.
He groaned loudly as he came, shuddering against her thighs, gripping her hips with both his hands and pulling her tightly against himself. She never wanted the moment to end. Never, never, never…
After his breathing slowed, he withdrew.
He gently unlatched the restraints on Shelley’s wrists and knees. He gathered her up in his arms and rolled her toward him, clutching her to his chest.
Still trembling, she slipped her arms around his massive torso and burrowed her face into his neck.
“Ah, Shelley, you are really something, you know that?” He pressed his cheek against her hair and stroked her back. “I can’t keep my hands off you!”
Not trusting her voice, she snuggled closer, leaning into his strength. In that moment, she felt safe. If only he would hold her like this forever.
Chapter Five
The doorbell rang. Shelley was curled up on the sofa sipping her second brandy. “You expecting anyone?”
Thor paused in the middle of loading a music CD into his state-of-the-art player and glanced at his watch. “No. I can’t imagine who would drop by my house this late. I’ll see who it is.”
All four of the Bad Boys stood on the porch dressed in their gypsy outfits.
Hank gave him a cheeky grin. “Hey, Thor!”
“What in hell are you guys doing here?” Thor opened the door wide with a gesture for them to enter. “I thought you had a gig tonight.”
“They cancelled on us.”
“You’re kidding!” Thor led them into the living room and waved them toward the sofa and chairs. “Sit down. Meet Shelley Flynn. Shelley, this is Greg, Hank, Bud and Jerry.”
They greeted Shelley and found seats.
She wondered whether any of them remembered seeing her in the audience during their last performance. Judging by their perfunctory acknowledgements to the introductions, she doubted it. Truth was, she couldn’t recall which of them she had felt up. She rubbed her nose in an attempt to hide a foolish grin—and to cope with the awkward moment. Gosh, they were cute!
So often, when she met more than one or two people at a time, she failed to remember their names for more than five minutes. This time she made an effort to keep them straight. Greg was the dark-haired man with nearly black eyes who most resembled a gypsy. Bud had dimples and heavy eyebrows. Hank, with blond hair, had a ready smile showing even, white teeth. Jerry was tall and lean like a marathon runner.
“So, what went wrong?” Thor asked.
“Well, what happened was somebody wound up in the hospital,” Bud explained.
“Yeah,” Greg cut in. “One of the organizers got sideswiped on the freeway. They rushed him to the hospital. He’s going to be okay. But they cancelled their event. It wasn’t a huge affair or anything. And they’d like to reschedule for next month.”
“The calendar’s full next month.” Thor moved toward the liquor cabinet. “By the way, we’re having brandy. You guys want something?”
Hank and Jerry opted for wine, Greg asked for ice water, and Bud passed.
“They’ll want their deposit back if we can’t make it next month,” Hank said, accepting a wineglass from Thor.
“Tough,” Thor grumbled. “We lost money tonight.”
“That’s what I told ‘em,” Bud said.
Thor sat on the sofa beside Shelley. “They’re all a waste of time, you know. These private parties.”
Nodding heads and sighs of resignation indicated a general agreement.
“Are you ready to scrap future bookings of that kind?” Thor asked. “Once we hit the road, we’ll have our hands full with the clubs anyway.”
Hit the road? Puzzled, Shelley tried to make sense of the conversation.
“What’s the time frame on our project?” Hank asked.
Thor swirled his brandy around in his glass. “The sale of my store to Joe closes this week. When I get the rest of the down payment, I’ll invest in the sound equipment we need.”
“So our estimated time of departure is?” Bud asked.
“Give Joe and me another month or so to get our act together,” Thor said. “Let’s plan on leaving around the first of December.”
Shelley felt an unexpected jolt of disappointment. “You’re selling out and leaving?”
Thor reached over and squeezed her hand. “Not my house, just the store. The Bad Boys are going on the road.”
“A tour?”
“That’s right. We’ll be gone until late spring. This first jaunt will be a short one—experimental. If it goes well, we’ll plan another one for mid-summer.”
“I see.” She didn’t know why this news depressed her. Why should she care if Thor left town for several months?
“The real reason we dropped by tonight,” Hank said, “and please excuse the intrusion, Shelley, is we came up with a new idea for our performance.”
“Yeah? What do you have in mind?” Thor sipped on his brandy.
“What if we picked some girl from the audience and included her in our act? The other women would identify with her and get a kick out of it.”
Thor frowned. “Pick one at random? How would she know your routine?”
“That’s just it,” Hank said, flashing his teeth in a smile. “She wouldn’t have to. It would be simple for her because we did all the work. She’d just be a prop, you understand.”
“I don’t know.” Thor shook his head. “I’d have to see what you mean.”
“Here, let’s show him.” Greg got up and moved his chair back to open up space in the middle of the room. “Hank, shift that other chair back. Okay, we come out on stage like we always do. Go through the preliminary routine. Then we ask for a volunteer. Shelley, would you mind improvising with us a minute? Bud, put our music on.”
“What?” Shelley, still reeling from the news of Thor’s upcoming trip, refocused her attention on the verbal interplay.
“Could you help us demonstrate our new routine?” Greg held a hand out toward her. His dark eyes sparkled with good cheer.
Bud went to the CD player, while the others took their places.
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“It’s simple,” Greg coaxed. “At first, you just stand here while we dance around you. Come out here, and we’ll show you. It’ll be easy.”
She glanced at Thor, wondering how he felt about the idea.
He shrugged and grinned.
Did he remember that she wasn’t wearing any panties? He’d cut them off her, for goodness sake!
Hesitantly, she set her drink on the coffee table. Maybe it was the liquor talking, but she really wanted to dance with the Bad Boys. At the risk of losing her self-respect in a shocking display, she got up and joined them. “You won’t flip me upside down or anything, will you? I’m wearing a dress.”
“No, no. Your dignity is safe with us.”
“Just stand there, Shelley,” Greg said. “Don’t do anything ‘til we tell you.”
The music started its driving rhythm. The men snapped their fingers and moved in time to the beat. For a couple of measures, they coordinated themselves, then went into action, gyrating around Shelley. It was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud. The whole thing was so…so exhilarating.
Rita will never believe this!
A little thought came from nowhere suggesting that her life with Dickie had been, well, boring. Well, she sure wasn’t bored now.
Thor leaned back, watching, his arms resting along the back of the sofa. An amused smile played over his lips.
Bud murmured instructions in Shelley’s ear. She raised her arms over her head and stood rigidly in place. The men grouped closely around her, placing their hands on her waist, shoulders, and knees. At Bud’s signal, they lifted her in the air over their heads. The narrow skirt encasing her legs threatened to slide up past her knees. Luckily, only Thor was in a position to see anything.
She giggled as they tossed her up and caught her again. Several sets of male hands on her body gripped places strangers never got permission to touch, spun her around, and manipulated her limbs. Undoubtedly, it was the wildest dance she had ever participated in.
The Bad Boys turned her over and over in their hands, rolling her like a log. As they wheeled in a circle, she spread her arms wide, soaring like a bird. Suddenly, they dropped her to the level of their waists and flipped her vertically before setting her on her feet.
She gave a startled whoop, nearly collapsing. In fact, she might have lost her balance if they hadn’t maintained a firm grip on her elbows and shoulders. Slowly, she swiveled at the hub of their circle as they moved around her, snapping their fingers and twitching their hips.
The music came to an end. The Bad Boys, still lending her support, formed a tableau facing Thor.
“Wow!” Shelley cried. “That was fun!”
“So, what do you think, boss?” Jerry asked.
“I don’t know,” Thor said, slowly. “Wouldn’t an act like that tax your strength? How long could you keep it up?”
“She doesn’t weigh much at all. And we’d only do this for the grand finale.”
“You’re breathing pretty hard.”
“Not that hard.”
Thor studied them thoughtfully. “What do you think, Shelley? Would women enjoy being part of the act?”
“Oh, yeah! It’s something I’ll never forget!”
Thor stood up. “You know, boys, if you ever dropped a girl on her face, we’d get sued for every cent we own. We’ve got liability coverage, but not enough to cover something like that.”
“We’d never drop her,” Bud said. “With four of us hanging onto her, she’ll be as safe as a babe in a cradle.”
“Well, I’ll think about it.” Thor strolled toward the door. “Now, if you don’t mind, Shelley and I would like to be alone.”
“Sure, boss,” Jerry said. “Sorry to intrude.”
After the Bad Boys departed, Thor closed the door and turned toward Shelley. The flush on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye told him the act was a success.
She smiled. “You have to admit, their idea is different.”
Unable to hold a straight face another moment, he burst into laughter. “Oh, Lord!” He wiped the moisture from his eyes. “They’re going to be the death of me yet.”
Thor had never seen Shelley look more vibrant. Her face was flushed—probably from the wild dance—her eyes full of humor. Maybe she thought he hadn’t glimpsed heaven when her skirt slid up. He moved toward her, wondering whether he had what it took to make love with her again so soon. This time naked. Just thinking about stripping her out her pretty dress and sandals had his blood pooling where it counted.
“They’re adorable!” she said. “They’re too nice to be billed as the Bad Boys.”
He placed his hands on Shelley’s shoulders and drew her closer. “No, you’re the one who’s adorable.”
As he slipped his arms around her, she turned her face up. Not one to pass up an invitation, he kissed her soundly on the mouth. Then, with a groan, he kissed her again, deeper, more intimately. Her lips parted beneath his, and he invaded her mouth, tasting her sweetness on his tongue.
When he let her up for air, she was smiling.
“I admire you, Thor.”
He liked the sound of that. “Really?”
“Yes. Your self-assurance turns me on. Who else would sit by and let other men manhandle their date like that? Most guys would get bent out of shape. But not you. You have such confidence and self-esteem, you don’t need to worry.”
“Now, wait,” he said. “I wouldn’t let just anybody handle my woman.” My woman? Where did that come from?
“Just your friends, huh?”
He nibbled her earlobe. “I don’t worry about these guys. They’re all gay.”
“What?” She pulled back and gave him a look of incredulity. “You’re kidding!”
“You didn’t think I’d let straight guys throw you up in the air and play grab ass, did you?”
She laughed. “How ironic! All those women at the club salivating over them, and the Bad Boys couldn’t care less.”
“Yep. Crazy, isn’t it?” He pulled her close again and kissed her. “Just so you know, I can get pretty jealous under the right circumstances.”
Not that I have a right to in your case. What made her think he was self-assured? Never in his life had he felt so insecure with a woman. There were too many things he didn’t understand about her. Discussing touchy subjects carried the risk of destroying the mood he wanted to preserve, but there were things he had to know.
He took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly.”
“When exactly is your wedding?”
Just like that, her smile vanished.
Damn! He didn’t want to upset her, but a serious talk was way past due.
She dropped her gaze, looking ashamed and miserable. “A week from Sunday at 1:00.”
“Then you’ll be a married woman.”
She nodded mutely.
“That means we won’t see one another after that.”
The statement seemed to form a wedge between them. Her arms slipped away from him as she moved back a half step. With her head bent, he couldn’t read her expression, but her posture expressed a heavy spirit.
Desolation chilled him to the marrow. “All’s fair in love or war. But once you say your vows, I won’t come between you and your husband. It wouldn’t be right.”
Gently, he cupped her jaw and tipped her head up to look into her face. He waited for her to say she planned to break up with Dickie and cancel the wedding, but she remained silent, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Unable to witness any longer the pain mirroring his own, he drew her in and tucked her head against his shoulder.
One of Thor’s cardinal rules had always been to steer clear of married women. Engaged women c
ould arguably fit into the same category. Breaking his own rule was really stupid and guaranteed him a lot of grief. If he craved painful complications, this situation promised lots of them.
Why am I doing this to myself?
He should stop seeing her. Send her home and tell her not to come back. Maintaining distance between them was the sensible thing to do. Actually, his plan to sell the shop and hit the road came at a good time. She was proving to be an addiction, and leaving town was the only hope he had of breaking the hold she had on him.
He stroked her hair as her hot tears soaked his shirt. Obviously, she was hurting inside, too. If only he understood where she was coming from. Women were the most complex creatures on the face of the earth. Too bad they were so incredibly lovely and impossible to live without.
Especially this woman.
“Please spend tonight with me,” he whispered. “It could be our last chance.”
She nodded her acceptance.
He inhaled the peachy scent of her hair. “I want to make love with you one more time. Slowly. Make it something special to remember.”
“Each time is special with you,” she whispered.
He lifted her and carried her to his bedroom. In spite of her height, she was slender and seemed to weigh almost nothing. Picking her up and lugging her around like a caveman satisfied some primeval urge deep inside. She didn’t seem to mind, but clung to him almost desperately. Thinking about the finality of their time together made it difficult to let her go.
Sick at heart, he laid her on his king-sized waterbed.
Riding the gentle waves, she glanced around the room curiously. “Very nice.” She studied the watercolor paintings on the forest green walls, then ran her gaze over the Early American dresser and the walnut armoire. “Not at all what I expected.”
“You were maybe looking for a round bed with a ceiling mirror?”
She looked up to check the ceiling, then laughed when she saw nothing more than an expanse of plaster and an ordinary light fixture.
“My only concession to sensual pleasure is this waterbed,” he said. “It’s old-fashioned, better than the modern waveless kind.”