“Would you like something from the bar?” the waiter asked.
Milan was no wine connoisseur, but she knew enough to speak the jargon and to choose the perfect wine to complement a meal. Her mind scrolled through her mental Rolodex of words associated with wine: vintage, crisp, full-bodied viscosity. Prepared to impress the waiter with her vast knowledge, she leaned forward and fixed her lips to describe her preferences, but Hilton patted her hand, hushing her before she could speak.
“She’ll have a glass of white wine. Nothing dry,” Hilton quickly added, speaking on Milan’s behalf. “In fact, bring a bottle of White Zinfandel.” He glanced at Milan, gauging her reaction, expecting her to protest. She didn’t.
Surprisingly, she wasn’t insulted by Hilton’s take-charge manner, nor did she feel ashamed that he’d publicly exposed her preference for cheap wine. All was well in her world. Hilton could have ordered a bottle of Thunderbird, and she wouldn’t have flinched if the waiter served it in a plastic cup. Milan sent the waiter an agreeable smile and then gazed at Hilton, the sparkle in her eyes telling him that she was happy to defer to him.
“And you, sir? What will you be having?” the waiter asked.
“I’ll have what she’s having.” He winked at Milan. They both knew he preferred beer.
“Thank you; I’ll be right back with your order.” The waiter left.
“Thanks for ordering for me.”
“I hope it didn’t bother you.” he said, unsure whether or not her remark was facetious. “I want you to enjoy yourself, baby. You’re with me. No need to put on airs and to suffer through that dry, nasty stuff you drink when you’re feeling the need to impress.”
“I’ll admit, having a man take charge is a different experience for me, but I liked it, I really did. I found it extremely gallant.”
Pleased that he’d made the right move, he nodded and relaxed in his chair. The waiter returned and uncorked the wine and poured the pale liquid into the stemware.
Hilton held up his glass. “Let’s make a toast.”
Beaming, Milan sat up and uncrossed her legs. Eagerly, she lifted her glass.
Then a somber look crossed Hilton’s face, changing his expression from animated to serious. “To no more bullshit,” he said, his toast throwing Milan for a loop.
Milan’s smile became tight and then faded. Disappointed, she lowered her arm. Stunned, she asked, “What? What are you talking about?” She’d been prepared to hear a romantic promise, forgiveness for her previous bad behavior and unsavory past, an oath of devotion—a long speech pertaining to true love.
“This is a new beginning. Let’s make this pledge. I’m into you, baby, but if we expect to take this to the next level, you gotta cut the bullshit. You have to get honest and start being yourself.”
She’d been fake and manipulative for so long, she wondered if she were capable of getting honest. She toyed with her drink, ran her fingertip around the rim of the glass. Shame whirled inside her. With her head held low, she battled to keep her emotions from appearing on her face.
“You’re absolutely right and I’ve been given a couple of reality checks that have brought me down to earth—”
“Can we make the toast?” His expression was stern and his brash tone cut off her unnecessary rambling.
“Okay.” She raised her glass. “To no more bullshit.” There was no hesitation this time. Her voice did not waver. What was the point? Her life kept falling apart. Money came and money went. Life was an unpredictable fight and she was bone tired of getting knocked down, clawing her way back up, only to get beat down again. She was weary of the fight, prepared to throw in the towel. She wanted to be enveloped inside Hilton’s strong arms and protected from future harm. His position with the team, whatever it was, didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except being in his life. Milan’s freaky playing days with multiple partners was over. She’d always be a freak, but she wanted to share her freaky sex acts with Hilton, exclusively. She hoped Hilton felt the same.
Immediately after Milan and Hilton clinked their glasses together, the waiter reappeared with menus and began to rattle off specials. Milan didn’t hear a word he said. Her thoughts were on her rapidly changing life. In the blink of an eye, she had agreed to put her own wishes aside. In order to get her relationship with Hilton off the ground and running, she’d kept her mouth shut and deferred to him.
And it didn’t hurt her pride. Not in the least. A quick study, Milan realized that if she wanted to keep this man, she’d have to come to accept that being in a relationship would require a willingness to compromise, communicate, and at times—such as tonight—she’d have to concede.
Milan drifted back to their numerous, meaningless sexual encounters. In the beginning, she’d only wanted Hilton for a quick sex fix. She wanted to be in charge of his dick. Demand it whenever she wanted it. But Hilton would not give in, refused to allow her to put him on an invisible leash. He called the shots, doling out dick as he saw fit. And somewhere along the way, her heart…her emotions got caught up. Pretending that all she wanted from him was an occasional fuck became an impossible deception to keep up.
Lost in thought, she came back to the moment when she felt Hilton’s eyes on her, studying her.
“What?”
“There are a couple of problems. This thing you have going on with Torrance—I know he keeps your finances tight, but I want you to end it.”
“It’s over.”
He gave her an odd look. “Care to elaborate?”
“The FBI came to my house. They said Maxwell stole a bundle…billions of dollars from his corporations and then faked his death. They found his crashed private plane. No bodies were found, just Maxwell’s ID.”
Hilton reared back, shocked. “Damn! Dude was already stackin’ billions—why’d he have to steal more?”
Milan shrugged. “Maybe he took a big hit when the stock market started declining. I really don’t know. They froze my bank accounts.” She took a deep sip of wine and swallowed. “Turns out Maxwell stole Pure Paradise right from under me and then turned around and gave it to my assistant as a gift. Sumi owns my salon,” Milan said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Hilton touched her hand gently. “You okay?”
Milan nodded and forced a smile. “It’s supposed to be a temporary freeze.” She gave a small shrug. “They didn’t put a lien on my house, so I can always sell it if things get really tough.” She shrugged again and smiled bravely. “I doubt if I’d get as much as it’s worth…you know…with the housing crisis and all.” She took another sip of wine.
Driving to Bethlehem had taken her mind off her frozen bank accounts and her stolen business. She’d hoped her visit with Hilton would keep her thoughts from trailing back to her troublesome situation, but here she was, forced to face her crisis and all she could do was shrug and give a goofy, crooked smile. It was the wine, she figured. Yeah, the wine had her head spinning, had her thinking about a picket fence around a much smaller home and hearing the patter of tiny footsteps. How many glasses of wine had she downed? She had to be drunk as a skunk to be thinking about rugrats. She giggled out loud.
Hilton looked at her, arched a brow, waiting to be let in on her private joke. When she didn’t fill him in, he said, “I’m glad you’re taking your loss so well.”
She brushed her fingers over his hand. “Like I said, it’s supposed to be temporary. I refuse to worry about it. Right now, I’m focused on you.” There was no mistaking the suggestive tone in her voice. They exchanged a glance. With their eyes, she and Hilton decided dinner could wait. Words were not necessary; it was time to get back to the hotel and fuck.
Hilton drained his glass, stood up, and beckoned the waiter over. “Check, please.”
Milan stood, too.
In the backseat of the Town Car, Hilton wrapped an arm around Milan. “We can order room service later,” he said and then kissed her deeply.
CHAPTER 36
Fully clothed, Hilton sat on the end of the
bed. Still wearing her dress and her heels, Milan stood in front of him, on edge, her heart pumping unmercifully. His hands, so hot she could feel the heat through the fabric of her chiffon dress, cupped her hips and then moved down to the bubble hem. Desire pounded through her veins as he eased her dress up and moved the fabric past her thighs. A vibrating excitement, like a buzzing inside her body, caused her to shake.
He gazed at her lacy lilac thong. “Pretty,” he murmured, his breath breezing through the sheer fabric and tickling the lips of her na-na. The sound of his voice was calming and electrifying at once. “So pretty,” he repeated in a raspy whisper as he slipped his thumb beneath the fabric and pulled the thong to the side. Her mind was so clouded by lust, she was mystified as to whether his words, “So pretty,” referred to her thong or her shaven pussy. Either way, she was flattered and muttered a sound of appreciation. Lil’ Na-Na, on the other hand, was not confused. Accepting the compliment, Milan’s pussy became instantly inflamed.
Milan’s body quaked, her knees felt like they were about to give out, but she steadied herself enough to pitch in, taking over the task of holding up and gathering her dress around her waist while Hilton lowered his head and licked her petals open and then wriggled his tongue inside. It felt so amazing, her toes curled tightly inside her shoes.
He put a lip lock on her coochie, pushed his tongue in as far as it would go, moaning as he tasted her sweetness. Ah! So good. Too damn good. Her head lolled back, her arms relaxed and the soft fabric fell, curtaining Hilton’s head as he sensually bathed her hot pussy with his honey-moistened tongue.
Her pussy ached with need, but she wasn’t ready to cum. Not yet. Abruptly, she pulled her dress up, liberating a man who didn’t seem to want his freedom. Ignoring Hilton’s perplexed expression, she inched backward. He reached for her; she maneuvered away and sat on the bed next to him. “Hilton,” she whispered with adoration and then wrapped her arms around his neck and licked the sheen from his honey-covered lips, distracting him as she unknotted and removed his tie.
Instantly intoxicated by his kiss, which tasted like a mixture of good pussy and sweet wine, Milan became wild and wanton and began groping between his legs. “Take your dick out for me, baby. I wanna see what I’ve been missing,” she coaxed.
Hilton’s groan assured her that he enjoyed her aggressiveness. Allowing her to take charge, he quickly unzipped and exposed his manhood, held the quivering shaft, keeping it steady in his grip as he presented it.
Milan got down on her knees and eased inside the space between his legs. At first she marveled at his big, beautiful, suckable dick, and then she covered it with tiny kisses. Her tongue darted out and swiped the cream that dripped from his large glans, and then she commenced to lick his shaft clean. She pulled the head in and out of her warm mouth. After a few moments, she used her tongue and pushed his phallus out of the cocoon of her moist mouth.
Breathing hard and grabbing the sides of her face, Hilton desperately tried to push the large rounded head of his penis between her lips.
“Pull your pants down, Hilton. I want to show how much I miss Big Hammer.” Hilton immediately pulled his pants down to his knees.
Taking charge, Milan pointed to his boxers. “Get rid of those, too. I want total access. No cotton barriers between me and the dick I love.” She helped him tug down his boxers, which had a damp circle on the front. “Don’t you want me to suck it right?” Milan cooed as she sank down to her knees.
“Oooh, yeah, baby,” he groaned as he shoved his boxers down, his face twisted as if in pain.
She caressed Big Hammer and ran the pad on her finger over the branches of throbbing veins that bulged along his shaft. Too worked up to talk, Hilton responded with a grunt. That primal utterance motivated Milan to stroke him until he was hard as granite. Then she opened her mouth wide enough to accommodate his oversized glans. Tenderly, she wrapped her lips around his smooth, wide cap. She marveled at the smoothness, moaned as she welcomed the dick she loved inside her mouth. She never wanted him to leave her again. She’d give him head all night if he wanted her to. She commenced to work her lips, slurping hungrily as if sucking on a delicious, giant-sized, caramel-flavored lollipop. She paused and looked up at Hilton.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he inquired.
“Nothing.” She licked her lips. “The White Zinfandel was good, but not as good as what you’ve got. I need a cum shot,” she explained and drew him back inside.
Just short of busting while enjoying the sweet warmth of Milan’s mouth, Hilton managed to control his urges and pulled out. “I want some na-na, baby,” he said as he wedged off his shoes. He stood, shook his pants and boxers off his feet.
Speeding up the process of seeing her man’s hard, naked body, Milan worked on the buttons of his shirt.
Nude, Hilton was like chiseled bronze. All his rigorous workouts had paid off. Her heart fluttered. He was magnificent. She touched her heart, awed that he was hers. At least she hoped so.
“Your turn, baby,” he said in the darkened hotel room, which was illuminated only by the light emanating from the soundless TV. Milan gave a shuddering sigh and then held her arms up as he slid her dress over her head. He eased her down on the bed and kissed her small nipples through the fabric of her bra. “I missed you, girl. Couldn’t get you out of my head.” He unsnapped her bra and gazed with adoration at her undersized breasts and then licked each nipple until it pearled. He ran his large hands up and down her arms, caressing them as he began to gently suck. He’d never touched her with such tenderness. Her eyes welled.
“Hilton,” she said, her voice a whimper. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I didn’t know how—”
He covered her mouth with his, kissed her as if devouring her. Kissed her with such yearning, tears sprang to her eyes and spilled. He wiped her tears and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t cry, baby.” She cried harder. “Milan, baby. You didn’t do anything to me. You never hurt me. I knew it was just a matter of time before you figured it out.”
“Figured out what?”
“That the power trip you were on was feeding your ego, but it wasn’t feeding your soul.” He lifted her chin and made her look into his eyes. “I dug you the first day I saw your stuck-up ass, but I’m a real man, baby. I wasn’t about to put myself out there like that. The way you were treating my boss was scary, baby. I couldn’t let myself go out like that. Seemed to me that all you wanted was to put a man on a leash, so I fought the feelings I had for you. It was hard, baby, I wanted you so bad. But it was like a struggle for my manhood every time we got together.” He laughed. She laughed too, but the sound was weak, more embarrassed than cheerful.
“I’m different now. My needs are different.” She continued swiping tears. “I’m going to take a huge risk and put all my cards on the table. Can I?”
“You can be real with me, Milan.”
“My world is constantly collapsing, but I’m so driven…such a survivor, that I always manage to pull it together and rebuild better than before. This latest fiasco with the FBI…I’ll get through it. I always manage to.”
“I know, baby.”
“But I’m tired, Hilton,” she whimpered. “My priorities have been so fucked up. I need something real—something lasting.”
“Whatchu need, baby?” he whispered.
“I need love. Your love,” she admitted and her voice cracked. She could no longer fight the urge to cry. Milan gave in and broke down. Hilton tightened his arms around her, giving her a sample of what it felt like to be protected, to feel safe.
“You’re not going to go through this legal bullshit by yourself. I gotchu, Milan. And don’t worry about money. I got that, too.”
She had yet to ask him about his position with the Eagles. He seemed pleased with whatever job he’d been given. He didn’t seem to be worried about money. If he were, Milan was prepared to sell her house and hand over the profits to her man.
Shutting off her thoughts, Hilton repositioned
Milan. One hand cupped her small buttocks and the other gripped her neck as he covered her body with his. Penetration was slow and excruciatingly blissful. Each inserted inch made her claw and cry out in pure ecstasy. Needing to do something, anything, she lifted her head and licked the sweat that glistened on his chest. “Oh damn, baby.” Hilton drove himself in deeper. He couldn’t help himself. She was sending him over the brink with her spontaneous act of sheer lust. With every tongue lash that lapped his sweat, Hilton fucked her harder. Milan held on tighter, writhing and moaning senselessly as she took the hard pounding. But she didn’t still her tongue; she continued to lick perspiration from his chest and began to lathe the tiny beads of his male nipples, stroking them with the full width of her tongue.
He gave her deep dick strokes. Making her crazy. Making her body hot and damp. Making her pussy ache with the need to explode. She tried to hold back, she struggled to stave off an orgasm, but his hard thrusts sped her along, taking her much too quickly to the place she was destined to go. Desperately, she pushed his heavy body off her and scrambled down to the bottom of the bed. “I don’t want to cum, not yet,” she said. Before he could catch his breath to protest, Milan wiggled between his muscled thighs. She licked his taut scrotum with ardor, while stroking his dick that was wet and slick with her juices.
Hilton inhaled sharply and groaned. “I want some more pussy, baby. Let me back in it.” Roughly now, he pulled her up on her hands and knees. “Why my baby been so bad?” he asked, his voice throaty with a hint of menace. Milan wasn’t sure where this was going and didn’t know how to respond.
He rose up on his haunches, bent over, and braced himself by slipping an arm beneath her tummy and held her in place by her waist.
Bam! He slapped her ass. “Why my baby so bad?” he asked again, his voice low and sensual. Milan gasped and tensed up from the shock of the slap. She shook her head, indicating that she didn’t know why she was so bad. Hilton slapped her ass again.
“Ow!” she cried.
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