The Sirens of SaSS Anthology

by Anthology

  “Sorry.” He pulled his hand away as soon as our bodies suffered the electric shock, his arm quickly falling to his side. His smile was warm and genuine. “I’m Neil.” He placed his glass down on the table opposite the booth where I had been sitting. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but I might give you another shock.”

  “Good thought.” I returned his smile with one of my own. “I’m Hope. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Hope.” His voice was smooth and buttery, sending warmth all through me. I liked the familiarity in Neil’s tone. It made me feel as comfortable as a warm blanket in the middle of a thunderstorm.

  My walls were slowly melting and suddenly I felt a bit bolder. “What are you in town for? Business or pleasure?” I hoped that the inquiry didn’t sound intrusive. “I’m here on business.” I looked up into his eyes as he was at least a foot taller than me.

  “It’s Vegas. I’m here for both. I’ve concluded my business. Now I get to play.” His tone was suggestive, the timbre awakening something inside of me.

  Although the Catholic schoolgirl in me warned that I shouldn’t be talking to a stranger, the woman in me responded with desire. It had been quite a while since I’d had these physical sensations and tingles skating through my scalp and down the back of my neck. The vibrato in Neil’s voice was a lure which detonated long dormant feelings. “Playing sounds like a good idea. What kind of work do you do, Neil?”

  “I’m in information technologies. I check the security programs at the casinos.” I had taken a step back, putting distance between us to cool the heat I felt, but as he answered, he closed the gap between us. His voice lowered. “Why don’t you have dinner with me, Hope? I could use the company.”

  What could it hurt? I barely shrugged my shoulders as I nodded. Samantha was right; I needed a break. A night to abandon my incessant overthinking. Neil pulled out a chair for me in a gentlemanly fashion. I took the seat and he held the back of the chair as he pushed it in. I smiled, appreciating the gesture. “Thank you.” He acknowledged with a nod and came around to the other side of the table, sitting directly across from me.

  “My turn for a question.” He leaned back in his chair. “What about you? What do you do?”

  “I’m a psychologist.”

  His eyes widened. I couldn’t tell if it was from surprise or inquisitiveness, or a little of both. “Do tell.” His expression changed. His brows arched and his lip quirked in the sexiest way. My insides clenched. “Sounds interesting, getting inside people’s heads.”

  It was surprise, I was certain. Most people had a mental image of psychologists as discerning and clinical. I didn’t look like the stereotypical therapist. My clothes were fashionable and I wore more makeup than most of my colleagues. I had thrown him off guard with my answer and I liked the idea of showing him that appearances could be deceiving. This getting to know you game was kind of fun. “It is interesting.” I playfully looked up at him through my eyelashes. “You know, getting inside of people’s heads and all that.” Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on the table with my chin resting on the back of my hands. “Getting inside the head of a computer geek sounds like a challenge.”

  “And you’re the kind of girl who likes a challenge?”

  “Of course! Computers are predictable. People are not.” My voice had morphed into a purr as I leaned into him. He emanated sex. It was thick on his skin and I wanted to run my fingertips along its seductive power. Pheromones lingered in the air between us, traveling to my core as they flared the burn of my starving sexual hunger. Our conversation continued, but I found it difficult to concentrate on generalized topics when all I could think about was how long it had been since I’d had sex. I looked at the hands on the clock above the doorway, wondering if the interest was only on my part.

  Neil followed my gaze. His lips curled into a smirk. “Is someone going to turn into a pumpkin once midnight arrives?” I smiled at the joke. It didn’t hurt that I had drank more than usual and my notorious habit of overthinking had been cancelled out by the relaxing feeling from the alcohol. Neil reached across the table and took my hand. “Why don’t we continue this conversation in my room? I have a gorgeous view of The Strip.” His voice was neither pushy nor demanding and my libido rode on the notes of the rich timbre. I looked around the bar. During the time of our conversation, the establishment had filled. People who had come for happy hour lingered as the time passed. In an attempt to silence the warning voice inside my head, I told myself that there were cameras everywhere and the two of us were probably on the recordings of hotel security. I wanted to go to Neil’s room. The promise of what could happen there made me eager to take the chance. I reasoned that I had friends who had hooked up for one night of sex and nothing bad had happened to them. Right?

  Chapter Seven

  I thought we would be going to a regular hotel room, but Neil had a suite. As the door closed behind us, it made a clicking sound. I could feel the heat from his body as he followed close behind me. I went to take a seat on the sofa, but Neil wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck before I could sit. His lips lingered there, scorching my skin as he stoked my desire. I turned slowly in his arms until I faced him and he pulled me to him, crushing me against his chest. His lips captured mine. His fingers threaded through my hair, his hand cupping the back of my head. Our lips pressed tighter. I heard a soft moan and realized it was my own. Neil pulled away and looked deep into my eyes. “You’re a very sexy woman.”

  His voice was comforting and seductive and I was starved for both. The air in my chest pushed from my lungs as my breathing grew heavy with lust. His arm still encircled me as he took my mouth once again. My breasts grew heavy as his velvety tongue explored. When he broke our embrace, our eyes locked. His dark ones sparkled as gold flecks danced in the irises. I felt him grow hard against me, the evidence of his desire heightening my own arousal. My body responded naturally and I pressed into him. I had missed the physical connection of being held by a man. My body begged for it. All I could think of was feeling him inside me, having him plunging deep and forcing away the emptiness. I craved the skin-to-skin contact that comes with intimacy. I leaned back, giving him access to the base of my throat. I loved the feeling of his lips pressed against my skin. The kisses burned and branded, the trail scorching as he traveled from my jaw to the open neckline of my shirt. When he kissed the hollow between my breasts, my nipples grew painfully hard.

  “Please … “ I begged the word, my voice barely audible. My body spoke louder. Grinding my hips against Neil, I found him as hard as granite. A small gasp escaped my lips as I imagined being filled by him. We realized that we were overdressed and set about to remedy the situation. Neil pulled the hem of my shirt free from my skirt. His fingers slipped beneath and grazed my ribcage. He was barely touching me, but blazed an inferno. The throbbing pulsation between my legs made me wet as I craved him. He teased, playing with each button as he freed the garment from my body while stopping to kiss the skin of each newly exposed area. I shivered as his lips met my sensitive skin and I remembered how much I liked the physical act. My body complied with each silent command as he ran his hands over me. Cool air met my veneer as the blouse fell to the floor. Without hesitation, he reached behind my back. His nimble fingers undid the clasp of my bra, and in one fluid motion, the garment was removed and my breasts were bare. His mouth latched onto my nipple and my head fell back as I savored the feel. I had almost forgotten how wonderfully powerful the feeling could be. The pulling zinged from nipple to core and the heat between my legs further blazed. I became caught up in his touch, barely noticing that the remainder of my clothes had joined the pile of fabrics at my feet. Neil peered up at me, his gaze graduating from desirous to predatory.

  He quickly shed his clothes and was naked within seconds. His fingers closed around the top of my arms. I had stepped out of my high heels so he pulled me up on tiptoe for our eyes to meet. “You want this. I can smell it.” He kissed
me and then released me. I reached down to touch him and he moaned as I gently massaged. I could almost taste his desire and a smile of satisfaction crossed my lips. I dropped to my knees. As I took him into my mouth, the sounds increased. Neil moved in rhythm with my tongue as he grew still harder. I not only wanted to give, I wanted to receive. I wanted his lips on me. I wanted him to fill me. I wanted the pleasure that I had been denied. I released him as I stood. His eyes burned into me, his stare filled with lust. “You’re good at that.”

  He cupped my bottom with both hands and pulled me into him. As our bones crushed together, he grabbed my waist. In one swift move, he tossed me on the bed. I landed against the soft linens. Neil crawled between my knees as I lay back on the pillows. The heaviness between his legs glimmered with the small amount of fluid that had escaped from the tip. My body echoed the response and I felt a small gush of my own. He dropped his head at my core, capturing my sex with his tongue. I cried out as the act reawakened feelings. Nerve endings exploded. He tortured me with his tongue and all I could do was drown in the sensations. I lost myself inside of my own thoughts. I was blind to everything except the pleasure. But pleasure had a price.

  An image of Judge entered my mind and panic set in. I wanted this, but not with Neil. I wanted the touch of another man. I wanted to feel secure. I wanted the love that accompanied the act I was about to commit. I wanted what I couldn’t have. I wanted the impossible.

  I wanted Judge.

  I looked down at Neil as I remembered Judge and tried to wiggle away from him. This wasn’t me. I didn’t want to have sex with some random guy I had met in a hotel bar. I wanted connection. If I was going to have sex, I wanted it to mean something. I had to stop this. I reached down, pushing at Neil’s shoulders. “Stop.” My voice was soft. He paid no attention. I said it louder. “Stop.” This time a stern tone accompanied the word. Still, Neil ignored me. “I said stop, dammit!” I kicked him in the shoulder and the force made him fall back.

  “What the hell?” Irritation bordering on anger colored his tone, but I spared no time to give him an explanation. Adrenaline pumped incessantly throughout me. All I wanted was to escape the situation. I flew off the bed while Neil stared dumbfounded. I reached down and gathered my clothes from the floor in one sweeping motion. My skin chilled with goose bumps as I ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I pulled my clothes on quickly, snapping and buttoning haphazardly. I didn’t care what I looked like as long as I was covered. I left my feet bare, holding my shoes by the heels, and flung open the door. Neil was waiting outside. I was in no mood for confrontation. My panic transformed to determination as I prepared to fight my way out of the suite if necessary. Neil stood a few feet away from me. Still naked, his arms were tightly folded across his chest. As I approached, he glared at me. I was undeterred and glared right back.

  “Get out of my way. I don’t want to do this.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sufficient time had passed since my near disastrous hotel encounter. I was enjoying myself by delving into more pleasurable activities. If love were to find me, I wanted it to be with someone with whom I could connect. Although I doubted that would ever happen, I was willing to wait while doing the things I valued.

  On this particular day, I was immersing myself in one such passion. To a lover of literature, bookstores can have an aphrodisiacal quality. Senses are assaulted from the moment you enter. I love the look, feel, and scent of a good book. There is something exciting and almost sensual when surrounded by undiscovered worlds of words. I loved words and they loved me back. Structure ruled my everyday life, but in books, I ran free. I expressed myself through reading and writing. It was a cathartic way to describe exactly how I felt in any given circumstance, but I hadn’t indulged myself in a long time. I had too many thoughts and responsibilities running through my head. I realized that I needed a break. Since I didn’t have time for a vacation, at least not a physical one to a tropical island, I escaped into book stores.

  I had grown tired of being surrounded by well-meaning family and friends. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about what I should do with my life. They thought they all knew what was best for me and they felt free to express their ideas about my work, finances, and personal life. I took offense more often than I cared to admit. I appreciated their concern, but their actions discounted the fact that I am an intelligent and capable woman who can manage life on my own. Death was an enemy who hadn’t played fair by taking my husband from me much too soon, but fighting that enemy had made me stronger. The grim reaper had taken me on a wicked journey with each day beginning and ending on a tumultuous ride through horror. Once I had exited the madness and regained my balance, I learned to find a way to continue living and come out from the shadows.

  I had dipped my toe into the waters of a social life, but the unforgiving sea of death had stripped me of the boundaries of convention. An evening out no longer consisted of a casual drink or two with friends without turning into a what should Hope do next session. After the first few months of living on my own terms, I noticed that suggestions were replaced by kudos. One thing that didn’t change was friends throwing hints about dating. I was constantly informed about single men and friends of friends. After my Vegas faux pas, I decided that finding someone to be with wasn’t a priority. Once I ignored the comments, the pressure of sharing my life with someone fell away. I reasoned that if it happened, it happened.

  Bump!

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I looked down at the drops of coffee that had spilled out from my cup to land on the lapel of my coat as the rumble of a deep voice snared me. The effect was magnetic, pulling me with its intensity. It reached down inside of me and hooked me at my core.

  “What can I do?”

  My eyes flew up as I connected the voice with its owner. His features affected me just as powerfully as his tone. His eyes were kind, while his jawline was severe and strong. As my gaze drifted from those hazel pools down to the sharp angles of his face, my inhibitions fell heavily to the floor. I studied him as one would examine a work of art and became lost in my thoughts.

  “Here.”

  As the deep timbre resonated, my musings went down a sensuous road and I forgot for a moment the accidental mishap that had brought us together. Slightly bewildered, I looked down and noticed his outstretched hand holding a napkin. My eyes widened as my mind cleared and I took the paper from him and dabbed at the spill of wet fabric.

  “It’s fine.” My voice shook, but I was sure that he couldn’t detect the tremble. I didn’t want to look into his eyes again, thinking that he might discover the impact that his nearness was having on me. The unbidden images were overpowering and I was certain that he would figure out that my thoughts were traveling much further than the distance between his hand and mine.

  “Is there anything that I can do to help?”

  Despite my reservations, I had to look up. Again, the little Catholic schoolgirl inside of me demanded proper behavior. It would have been rude to not meet his eyes. I fell into their kaleidoscopic vortex. They were a smattered composition of brown and green with gold flecks floating within the hues. I was reminded of specks of sunlight on the water’s surface. Their depths pulled me in. I followed the gentle current as I continued to study his face. His gaze was filled with concern, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Unconsciously, I again looked away to break the connection.

  “Look at me.” His tone was gentle. “Please.” The rich sound was reassuring and kind. I honored the request. “Don’t worry about it. It was an accident. It didn’t even stain.” I smiled a weak smile, enough of one to let him know that I appreciated his concern. As his chin tipped downward, a lock of blond hair fell onto his forehead. “Can I at least buy you another cup of coffee? I mean, I did ruin that one.”

  I didn’t know this man, but I wanted to. A cup of coffee and a few more minutes didn’t seem near enough time for me to learn the things about him that I wanted to know.
The first of which was his name.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I sat at a small table near the window while he went to the counter to order our drinks. As I stared outside, I took in the people milling about on the street and sidewalk beyond the glass. Have you ever noticed that when something important is happening to you that life goes on for everyone else? Who knew what, if anything, was going on inside the heads of the many souls passing by. I entertained the thought for a moment, wondering at the expressionless faces. Were they happy, sad, broken-hearted, or newly in love? The questions distracted me from the range of feelings that had risen inside. From the moment I had accepted this invitation, my heart had quickened from its formerly monotonous pace. For months I had gone through the motions of everyday life, trying to adjust to my new routine. Now the beats were doubling and had done so from the moment that this man had motioned for me to lead the way to the tiny bistro area inside the bookstore. I wanted to watch him as he got our coffees, but I didn’t want him to catch me staring. Turning my attention elsewhere seemed the safest thing to do.

  “Here we go.”

  He put the cup down on the table in front of me. The fifties-style furniture had a soda shop feel to it and the table top was a combination of red and tan with a swirl type of pattern. I traced the design with my eyes as I worked up my courage.

  “I’m Jared.”

  Jared. The sound of his voice caused butterflies to take flight around my insides. He smiled. I looked up at his face and felt the warmth creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. My heart lightened as our eyes connected. What is it when you feel like you’ve met someone before? That the meeting might have been destiny? Déjà vu? Kismet? It was the craziest feeling. One I couldn’t quite put into words. Nonetheless, the connection was there. It was as if somehow we were tethered. Apprehension fell from my shoulders and faded away. Emotion—real emotion—blossomed. Not lust. I was inquisitive. I was excited. I was open to the possibilities that a new friendship promised. For months I had reigned in my feelings. I had shut down the crying. I had hidden my emotions so well that they were nearly invisible. Everyone who mattered to me thought that I was fine, but was that true? What I knew for sure was that I had gotten better at hiding my pain, and as a result, it had thickened my walls of deception. When people asked me how I was, I always answered with a four-letter word. F-I-N-E. But now, months later, sitting across from this man, I smiled and it was genuine. I felt it all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.