Turning the Tables

by Joan Kilby

  Trust him? She didn’t trust any man. But she did believe Luke knew what he was doing when he pulled her bra down and closed his hot mouth over her aching nipple. Oh, sweet torment. Every tug, every wash of his abrading tongue, every caress of her breast with his callused fingers sent her further into meltdown. Her limbs softened, and she sank deeper into the soft cushions, letting him do whatever he liked to her. She glanced at herself in the mirror. He’d unhooked her bra and both breasts were exposed, the round, heavy mounds cupped in his kneading hands while he kissed his way down her naked belly. Her panties were still half on, half off.

  “Don’t forget…the…job I wanted you to do,” she said. “There’s flooding. And it feels like…il fuoco. Fire. Il fuoco della passione. Ohhh” She lifted her hips, desperately trying to get closer to his mouth, his tongue, his hands, anything to relieve the pressure building in her.

  “Almost there.” Lust thickened his voice. “We need to finish preparing the site.”

  “It’s fine. All ready to go. More than ready.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” He pulled her panties down another inch. A waft of cool air hit her moist folds, followed by a gust of warmth as Luke breathed out, his gaze fixed on her. “You are one pretty lady. Just a bit more prep…need to open you properly.” He lowered his mouth to her and his tongue found the sensitive nub of her clitoris. A light brush before he circled her hips with his arms, pinning her arms down and holding her to him while he explored the flower-like folds, sucking and licking.

  She wanted to touch him, too, but she couldn’t move. It was torture at the absolute max. Thrashing her head to one side she clamped her teeth onto her blouse and pulled so hard in frustration that it ripped.

  Perspiration had beaded on his forehead when he raised his head and her juices glistened around his mouth. He kissed her lips then, and she could taste herself, taste the sweat on his skin, breathe the pheromones swarming thick as a cloud around them. He drew back and pulled his shirt off over his head. More shining skin and sculpted muscles.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered and started to unbuckle his tool belt.

  “Leave it on. Per favore.” She reached out and drew a finger down his belly, following the thin arrow of hair to where it disappeared below the wide, supple leather.

  “I told you not to move.” He unhooked a roll of black electrician’s tape and grabbed her wrists, winding the tape several times around them swiftly, before she had time to say or do anything. “This is a job for a master tradesman.”

  The mirror reflected a woman Tina barely recognized, on the brink of sexual disintegration. Her hair was wild, a curling dark brown mane that flowed over bare breasts and belly. Strips of clothing remained, torn and tangled. Her lips were red and swollen, mirroring the lips between her thighs. Luke skimmed off his pants, leaving the tool belt on. In the reflecting glass, she watched his butt muscles flex as he stepped out of his jeans. Thighs and calves strongly muscled from all that ice skating. She dragged her gaze away to the front of him.

  His erect cock jutted toward her, long and thick and richly veined, emerging from a nest of dark golden curls. The strain of maintaining control was starting to show in the taut lines around his eyes and mouth, and the tight flex of his biceps as he tore open a condom. She would have taken him in her mouth, but he stood just out of reach, and he’d told her not to move. Anyway, she couldn’t concentrate. All she could think of was getting him inside her.

  “It’s time to go in and finish the job.” He adjusted her hips and she let him, limp and compliant. Every cell in her body pulsed in concert with the insistent throb between her legs. Then he picked up her hips and brought her to him, the head nudging at her entrance.

  Tina closed her eyes and gave herself over to simply feeling. The stretch, the push, the incredible urgent need to engulf him, to take him inside and have him fill her. Then her eyes opened. She wanted to see his shaft disappear inch by inch into her, see the heat in his eyes when they melded, see the bunch and flex of his muscles as he strained to hold her and control their movements. For someone used to talking with her hands, without them she was mute. She pleaded with him with her eyes.

  “I’m going to go in hard, okay? It’s the only way to fix this…problem of yours.”

  Tina nodded eagerly. Hard. Yes. That’s exactly what she wanted.

  He crouched over her, one hand holding her butt, the other braced against the wall behind her head. He found her entrance, positioned his cock, then drove it home like a hammer blow. Again and again. Long, strong, hard thrusts that jolted her spine and touched a match to the powder keg of desire that was ready to explode inside her. Kaboom. Suddenly she was wild. She hooked her locked hands behind his head and pulled him down to her, ravaging his mouth the way he was ravaging her body.

  He fell on top of her and together they rolled onto the floor, bucking and slamming into each other. A pair of pliers fell out of his tool belt and dug into the back of her thigh. She rolled over, straddling him, her hands still taped and looped behind his neck. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and she ground her hips into his, feeling the cold brass buckle of his tool belt on her belly with every thrust. All the distractions faded into nothingness, and she gazed into his eyes. Intense. Heated. Blue. So blue. Blue like the Mediterranean. Like the silk thread on the blouse hanging around her neck. Blue like the skirt up around her hips.

  Heat and hardness. Blond and blue. Luke filled her vision. Filled her inside. Enclosed her in his arms. Pounding, thrusting. Nothing soft or deferential. Nothing deceitful. He was what he seemed. A man who liked to fuck. Who liked to fuck her. Harder. Harder. Harder. Harder…

  She heard his guttural groan at the same time she cracked wide open. Arms high and legs splayed apart, she sank onto him, into his bones and skin, soft and pliable as warm beeswax. She could feel the frantic beat of his heart. Hear the rasp of his breath next to her ear. Feel the pulse of his groin against her belly…

  After what seemed like a long time, her brain came back slowly, lazily. In no hurry, even though she was lying on a fitting room floor in her empty boutique doing things she never thought she would do with a man she barely knew.

  Had she ever had sex this good? Never. What was it about Luke? Tying her hands! She’d never done anything like that before. The electricians tape was biting into her wrists, hurting. She didn’t care. The pain reminded her she was with a real man. A man who wanted nothing from her except the pleasure they could give each other.

  To other women it might not be a lot to ask, but to her it meant everything.

  Luke moaned, a satisfied sound that signified contentment down to his toes. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her. “Well, did that fix the problem?”

  She wriggled her hips, savoring a blissful aftershock. “Sì. Tu sei incredibile.”

  Chapter Six

  Luke lay flat on his back on the plush carpet of the fitting room floor, completely shell-shocked. Fuck, that was good. Tina lay limp and boneless on top of him, wrapped in his arms. Her heart thundered against his, and her hair spread like a curtain across her back and down his sides. In a corner of the room, her phone started to ping. She stirred, seemed to consider getting it, then collapsed onto his chest again.

  Hell, her wrists were still bound. Carefully he sat up, bringing her with him, and brought her arms down between them. With a pair of wire cutters from his tool belt he snipped the tape off her wrists. “I hope that didn’t hurt.”

  “I didn’t feel a thing.” She rubbed the faint red marks.

  “Sure? You went awfully quiet after I tied you up.”

  “Of course I went quiet. Italians talk with these.” She waggled her fingers in his face. “If we can’t move our hands, our mouths don’t operate properly.”

  A smile curled his lips. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Are you saying I talk too much?” Playfully, she pushed his chest, making him rock backward.

  He grabbed her around the waist to
haul her down for another scorching kiss. Then he released her, tucking her waterfall of hair behind her ears. “No, I love the way you use your whole body to communicate. Seeing you in the mirror was awesome. In fact, let’s try for a better angle.” He lifted her hips and adjusted her so her butt was reflected in the mirror. His cock immediately sprang to life. He wished he was a contortionist so he could look at this view of her and fuck her at the same time.

  On all fours she hovered above him, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses. She dragged her breasts over his chest and brushed her pussy over the head of his erection but kept herself tantalizingly out of reach. She was salty and sweet, warm and soft and voluptuous, fragrant with sex and perfume and her own unique scent.

  “I can’t get enough you. I love how you taste and smell and feel,” he growled. “I want to eat you up.”

  “You taste good, too.” She licked his flat nipple and then bit down, hard enough to trigger a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. “Mmm, Luke, I love the way you are so hard again already. I want you. I want you inside me, fucking me. I want—” She broke off as her phone started up again. “Madre mia. It’s work.”

  “You really need to set boundaries with that boss of yours.” Luke pulled her down on top of him, aching with need but the ringing wouldn’t relent. He groaned. “Are you going to answer that?”

  “I should.” She rolled off him and reached for the phone. “Yes?”

  Luke watched her face transform from lush softness to an alert intelligence. Almost absently she reached a blind hand out for her bra. With a spurt of annoyance he realized she was already detaching from him and moving on to her next thing.

  “I’ll be there. Ciao.” She hung up and threw him an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late. I have to go.”

  “Go?” Luke repeated. She was really doing it, blowing him off again. “I thought we could grab a bite to eat and then head back to my apartment.”

  “I should have told you before, but I have a dinner appointment.” She dragged on her blouse and turned to the mirror to straighten her hair.

  A dinner appointment? What did that mean exactly? “Do you mean a date?”

  “No, it’s work, to do with the fashion show coming up in a few days. I…we are meeting with the editors of some of the big fashion magazines.”

  Was it his imagination or did she keep stumbling over her explanations of what she was doing in New York? This wasn’t the first time. He caught her hand, keeping her with him. “Your boss works you too hard. Early start, late finish. When do you get time off?”

  “This is launch week for the boutique. It’s a busy time. I knew I’d be working long hours before I came.” She ran a fingertip lightly across his lower lip. “I just didn’t know I’d meet such a hot man next door.” She said something in Italian that sounded positively molten and kissed him again. “Believe me, I’d much rather spend the evening with you.”

  He wanted to believe her. Maybe he was a fool but she seemed sincere. After all, it was only a fling. Only about the sex. “All right.”

  Luke retrieved the missing tools that had fallen and tucked them back into his belt. From now on, whenever he wore this he was going to remember this encounter in vivid detail. It would be a good memory to have when she was gone. With that sobering thought, he finished dressing and then followed her out through the display racks of high end fashion.

  Outside Tina locked up and dropped the thick ring of keys into a leather tote. Luke offered her a lift home. Once again, she insisted on catching a taxi. Why was he not surprised?

  “It’s no trouble,” he said. “I’ll wait while you get ready and then drop you at the restaurant.” He simply did not believe she was going to dinner with important fashion editors looking like she’d just tumbled out of bed. The musk of their lovemaking clung to her and while that was a major turn on for him, he doubted her boss would be impressed.

  “No, but thank you.” She stepped into the street and, putting her fingers to her mouth, let out a piercing whistle. Brightening, she turned back to him. “When I was a girl and watched movies set in New York I thought whistling for a taxi was the most wonderful thing. I’ve always wanted to do it myself.”

  “Well, you’re good at it.” He pressed a finger to his ringing eardrum. “Why are you so secretive? Why are you running away? Don’t you trust me?”

  A taxi cut across two lanes and pulled up to the curb. Tina opened the door. “Of course I trust you.” But she didn’t sound at all certain.

  Luke held onto the door and blocked her way so she couldn’t get in. “Prove it. Tell me where you’re staying.”

  With an exasperated flourish of her free hand, she said, “In a furnished suite.”

  He mimicked her gesture, frustrated as hell himself. “Uptown, downtown—?”

  “Midtown. Why do you need to know this? You said who I am doesn’t make a difference to how you feel about me.”

  “It doesn’t but…” Did she live in a slum? Surely not. An expensive boutique who brought an employee over from Italy would put her up in decent accommodations. “We don’t exist in a vacuum either. When you’re not around, sometimes I feel as if you’re not real. I don’t know anything about you. What’s your last name?”

  Instead of replying she gave him a warm, lingering kiss that made his head spin. “That’s really all you need to know. That I want you. And you want me.”

  “So this is just a fling,” he said flatly. “Two strangers getting together for sex.” And what was wrong with that? He’d done it plenty of times before. It’s what he had wanted. Yet with Tina the thought left him strangely dissatisfied.

  “Don’t make it sound sleazy. You’re not a stranger. I like you. More than I expected. So very much more.” She caressed his jaw, running a thumb over his light stubble. “You look good in a beard. I looked you up on the Internet.”

  She could do a search on him, but he couldn’t do the same to her. It wasn’t right. He captured her fingers. “I like you too. That’s why I want to know more about you.”

  “Then we lose some of the mystery, no? We don’t need to prove anything to each other.” It almost sounded as if she was pleading with him. While he was still thinking of a reply she ducked into the taxi and then stuck her head out of the window. “Ciao, amore.”

  The cab entered the stream of traffic heading south to midtown. Why wouldn’t she tell him where she was staying?

  A horrible thought struck him. Was she married? He was a pretty tolerant guy. He had one taboo and one taboo only—married women. He couldn’t believe Tina would lie about that. But now it all made sense with a sickening logic. If she was married that would account for her sudden disappearances, for not wanting to stay overnight, not telling him where she was staying. Not even telling him her last name so he couldn’t track her down.

  Fuck. Luke kicked a newspaper box hard enough to make the glass rattle. A well-dressed matron walking her Pekinese gave him a disapproving look.

  Another taxi stopped a few feet away and let off a passenger. Luke lunged for the open door, got in and slammed the door. He tossed a fifty dollar bill at the driver. “Follow that cab up ahead, the one with the Greenpeace bumper sticker. I’ll give you another hundred if you don’t lose it.”

  The taxi set off at a low speed chase, crawling through rush hour traffic. Luke leaned on the back of the front seat, gaze fixed on the distinctive bumper sticker logo. A furnished studio in a walkup or a three star hotel was the kind of accommodation someone on a sales assistant’s wages could afford. They passed the turnoff to his street. What were the odds that she was staying in his neighborhood?

  Up ahead, Tina’s taxi stopped. He felt like a stalker but he needed more information about her, even if just seeing her hotel wouldn’t tell him if she was married or not. He did not cheat, would never break up a family. If she was married then no way would he continue with the fun and games.

  “Pull over half a block ahead and wait,�
�� Luke said to his driver.

  His taxi swerved and double parked outside a cafe. Amid the honking and shouting that ensued, Luke watched through the rear view window as Tina’s cab pulled up in front of the St. Regis Hotel. Then his eyebrows shot up as the uniformed doorman opened the cab door and ushered Tina out, bowing and touching his cap. She gave him one of her brilliant smiles and palmed him a tip. Then she hurried up the red carpet and into the lobby of one of the fanciest hotels in New York.

  What the hell? How could she afford to stay there? Had she been bullshitting him about what she did? Did she have a higher job description than mere sales assistant? What kind of company sent a clerk overseas to work, anyway? Man, he was all kinds of confused. Emotions from his childhood flooded back, associated with the first time he found his mom coming out of a bar after telling him she was visiting her sister. That night they’d had no dinner, and she’d insisted someone had stolen her wallet. He’d believed her—until he’d seen her wallet sticking out of her purse.

  “Hey, buddy! I can’t sit here all day,” the cab driver yelled over the din of honking horns. “Whadya want I should do now?”

  Luke found a couple of fifties and passed them over. “I’ll walk from here.”

  He stood on the opposite side of the road and stared at the hotel. Should he go in and confront Tina? How? He couldn’t ask for her at the desk. He didn’t know her last name. He could just picture that conversation. You know, Tina—short, sexy, Italian, lots of wavy dark hair? Sure she was memorable, but desk clerks dealt with hundreds of guests every day. And when it came to the privacy of protecting a hotel guest, he highly doubted they’d just hand over her room information.

  Hang on a second…she might not even be staying there. This might be where she was having dinner with her fashion editors and her boss. It was possible her boss was staying there. It didn’t answer the question of whether she was married or not. But now that he’d calmed down, he didn’t think so.

  He needed to think so he set off north again to walk the ten blocks to his apartment. She must really be worried about being late if she couldn’t go home to change. She probably sat in the background and took notes while those haughty bitches pushed food around their plates and made insincere noises about how fabulous one another was. He hoped they weren’t mean to her.