by Tina Donahue
Catherine let out a wild cry at the sensations that produced. She tugged on the restraints around her wrists, even though she had no hope of freeing herself or escaping this. Her orgasm tore through her without warning and with such force, she emptied her lungs, her submission to Tim and her own desire complete.
Both servers observed the aftermath of her climax, their attention on her moist cunt and plump lips, Tim’s fingers still inside of her. Catherine’s chest jerked with each breath. Small, knowing smiles interrupted the servers’ neutral expressions.
They left the room.
Drugged with satisfaction, Catherine sucked in as much air as she could. Tim pulled his fingers from her pussy and scooted off the bed.
“Wait,” she cried, then coughed, still struggling to breathe. “Where are you going?” Surely, this wasn’t the end of wild and the beginning of her having to break things off with him, with them never seeing each other again.
He lifted his pants and pulled several condoms from one of the pockets, showing them to her.
Given her restraints, it was an effort for Catherine to lift her head. “I’m protected. You don’t need them.”
She wanted their lovemaking raw, skin against skin, nothing separating them. That would come soon enough. For a few hours, Catherine needed to pretend that they were a real couple, in a committed relationship, devoted to each other. They’d leave here and go to Tim’s townhouse, waking up tomorrow in each other’s arms. Their most pressing problem would be whether to finally shop for groceries or order takeout again.
Takeout would win, with them curled in front of the TV, gorging on their meal, sharing the high and lows of their day, discussing what would happen during the rest of the week. His newest lobbying efforts, her work for a federal agency, Opal’s move to their townhouse with the woman gaining facility and strength every day. Catherine’s appointments with the agency’s clients no longer a consideration.
Except they were, always would be.
Thinking of that, she blurted, “I’m healthy, no—”
“Hey,” Tim interrupted. “Enough. I trust you, all right?”
Shame made her blush. Worry gnawed her gut. But it didn’t stop her from pleading, “Fuck me, please.”
He tossed the condoms aside and returned to the bed, settling between her legs. The spotlight swept past, its brief illumination making his hair appear blonder, his eyes lighter, providing a striking portrait of a perfectly beautiful man.
That didn’t begin to touch the person he was inside. Considerate. Kind. Giving. My god, how she would miss him.
“Don’t make me wait,” she pleaded. They had so little time.
Tim grinned with the cockiness of a man who knows he’s not only desired but freaking indispensible. Lifting his rigid cock, he entered her easily. Never had Catherine been as wet or as willing.
She cried out her delight, rejoicing in it. Days before, she wouldn’t have believed it was possible for one man to captivate her so completely. When she’d read Tim’s dossier, it hadn’t warned her of how good he smelled, his strength tempered with gentleness, the way he liked to tease, the intensity of his gaze, the power in his body.
For the moment, he restrained himself, content to be inside of her, his cock stretching and filling her pussy, his mouth on her neck, suckling it.
Catherine moaned brazenly. Not only because of his actions, but because he liked her enough to mention his feelings to Hunt. For a very long time, she’d treasure the thought of Tim having been as drawn to her as she’d been to him. That he craved the woman she’d always wanted to be if circumstances hadn’t been against her. However, they had, and she’d done what she could in order to survive and take care of Opal. Catherine would never regret that. It was who she was.
Her only wish was that she could have revealed that person to Tim from the outset and trusted his response to her. Even if he’d been understanding of what she confessed, Catherine knew she would have always wondered if his continued interest in her was real or as fake as her dates, as motivated by pure carnal need. That would have wounded her nearly as much as their eventual parting. She needed his approbation. She yearned for his continued respect.
For now, she at least had this. Him so near. So damn wanting.
He finished suckling her neck and positioned himself, thrusting into her with pure abandon.
She let out a noise that sounded more feline than human, wonderfully base, decidedly erotic. The mattress shook, its springs squeaking wildly. Perspiration shone on Tim’s face and shoulders. He clenched his jaw to the point where his teeth must have hurt. He was trying to hold off and finally slowed.
No, no, no. Don’t stop, don’t—
Her thoughts paused as she realized his intent. He’d forgotten to masturbate her. He did so quickly as he resumed pumping.
Catherine’s mouth sagged open on a startled cry. The friction from his body and strokes was too intense. Powerful sensations swelled within her. She tightened her cunt around his hard rod.
Tim lifted his chin and came, his shoulders bunched, chest pumping in concert with his thrusts, his bellow drowning out her cries of release. The bed trembled beneath them. Once more, the spotlight swept past. Sweat bathed both of their bodies.
Puffing hard, Tim leaned down and struggled to undo the manacles around her wrists. Freed finally, Catherine gathered what little strength she had left and cradled him to her. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, kissed his temple, needing to touch him repeatedly, eager to lose herself within his arms. To know how it felt to have him shelter and cherish her, if only for a moment more.
“You okay?” he panted.
Not after tonight…never again once they parted for good. She’d want and want and want, each day hoping to catch a glimpse of him on the street, watching him go about his life without her, reliving these moments as she did.
“Hey,” he said at her silence. “You asleep?”
Not even close. “No. Why?”
“You didn’t answer me. You okay?”
“I’m savoring.” Grieving too.
He nuzzled his face against her neck, kissing it.
Tears stung her eyes even as she smiled. “You tired?”
He didn’t finish his yawn. “Nope.”
Liar. “Go ahead and snooze. I’ll wake you.”
“No, I’m doing great. Are you hungry?”
She noticed the scent of the steaks finally, a hint of garlic and caramelized onions. “Not for food.”
His laugh sounded weary. “I don’t care if we ever eat dinner. Are you free Wednesday evening?”
Catherine’s hand stalled on his hair. “Wednesday?”
She had nothing planned, especially pretending to be a client’s trophy girlfriend. Those performances would happen on Thursday and Friday outside of the District. Alexa had sworn Tim wouldn’t be at either event.
However, that didn’t mean Catherine could actually go out with him again, no matter how much she’d dreamed of doing so. Could it?
“Yeah.” He rubbed his nose against her neck.
A sweet, intimate gesture that captured another piece of her heart.
“It’s one of the few nights next week that I have off,” he said. “Do you have anything planned?”
Other than dreaming about him and worrying about how this would end? “I have some research to do at the library.”
“You can’t do it online?”
Of course she could and usually did. So why had she forgotten about that, using it as an excuse not to see him? “The material I need isn’t available online,” she lied. “Sorry.”
“About what? The Net not being perfect?”
She forced herself to chuckle. “Having to go to the library.”
“Not a problem. We’ll go together.”
A chill went through Catherine, followed by too much heat.
“We can also visit your aunt. If that’s all right with you.”
What was she supposed to say to that? It was b
eyond all right, totally perfect. Exactly what she’d always wanted from a man, compassion and generosity because she mattered to him.
This had to stop. She couldn’t do it any longer.
“The nursing home and library?” she joked, ruffling his hair, putting on an act to hide the pain racing through her. “It wouldn’t be any fun.”
“We’d be together.” He snuggled closer and finally surrendered to a lusty yawn. Finished, he murmured, “That’s what I want…how about you?”
Chapter Nine
She caved.
Catherine knew it was foolish to see Tim again and again and still again, but she couldn’t stop herself. He was worse than any addiction.
A week and a half had passed since he’d asked what she wanted and she’d answered by giving in to a desire to ease her aching loneliness, which only fueled her relentless need of him. She kept pretending there might be a future where he’d always offer his welcoming smile each time he saw her. That he’d continue to laugh at her quips or because he’d managed to pull one over on her again, proud of his teasing.
There was no end to what she wanted with him and now she had to face the truth. Or rather, Alexa.
At her request, they were lunching at Bertrands—an upscale restaurant in one of the District’s most exclusive shopping malls, opened during the height of the Great Recession. You had to hand it to the people in this town. Completely oblivious as to what the rest of the nation suffered through until the news media cornered them, demanding to know why they were so freaking clueless and arrogant.
On her own, Catherine would never have set foot in this place, choosing takeout or fast food instead. However, there was no way she would have agreed to another sit-down at the agency’s office like the last time they had talked. Alexa seemed to understand that Catherine needed the buffer of people around them to stave off any disagreement, the possibility of Alexa cutting her loose from the agency. Acting in Ronnie’s stead, Alexa certainly had the right.
If it came to that, Catherine figured she’d have to move on to a competing escort service. There were plenty of them in the area, given all the power-hungry men and women with more money to spend than integrity or sense. None of those places took care of their escorts as Ronnie’s establishment did, but then what other choice did she have? Except agreeing to cut things off with Tim. To Catherine, that would have been like someone ordering her to stop breathing or demanding that she keep her heart from taking its next beat.
“More wine?” the male server asked Alexa.
She put down her glass and shook her head. “I’m good. Thanks.”
Expectantly, he looked at Catherine. She wanted to throw up or start a fight just to be done with this endless meal. Neither she nor Alexa had mentioned Tim. They’d barely talked, the uncomfortable stretches of silence filled with too many sighs. Placing her hand on the top of her wineglass, she gave the server her answer.
The young man went to his other patrons, for the most part older women dressed in pricey designer wear, all model thin, their conversations subdued.
In contrast, Alexa’s throat clearing sounded too loud.
Fuck, here it comes. Catherine steeled herself for the worst.
After a moment’s pause, Alexa murmured, “How many times have you seen Tim now?”
Far too many. The exact count was six if she didn’t include their introduction at the holiday party. She still hadn’t offered Alexa details about it or their evening at the nightclub. God, it had been amazing. Once Catherine had told Tim she wanted to be with him too, he lay beside her, running his hand over her breasts, thighs and cunt while he regained his strength.
With his fingertip circling her navel, he’d breathed, “I like this song.”
For Catherine, the music and people had receded, becoming no more than background noise with his gentle exploration of her body. She was vaguely aware of the spotlight sweeping past the room again, brightening it temporarily. Unable to wait even a second longer for more carnal play, she’d removed the manacles from her ankles and pushed Tim back on the mattress, then used the bed linens to wipe the ejaculate from his cock and her pussy.
He watched in silence until she straddled his legs, her back to his front.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She answered by unfolding her body over his, her cleft above his mouth, hers above his rod. Propped on one elbow, she licked his length, impressive even while flaccid. His long toes splayed, then curled. With her continued attention, his shaft responded, thickening, getting hard. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her down to him to have a go at her cunt.
The noises they made were positively immoral as they explored each other’s sex with their mouths, lips, tongues. On the dance floor, the music grew savage, the beat intense, primitive. Tim spread her cheeks and settled his forefinger on the ring of her anus. Catherine trembled with the delicious sensations that created. He gripped her even tighter to keep her from escape and probed her tightest opening as she’d done with his.
Her nerve endings fired, making her shiver and moan, keeping her from tending to his cock or testicles. Only his musk’s heady scent reminded her of the task. She took him orally, slipping his cock inside her mouth until her nose touched his balls and she could smell her scent on him. A grunt erupted from deep within his throat and then he groaned, but it didn’t stop him from feasting on her. He speared his tongue into her opening and suckled her clit, all while exploring her anus.
After that, they went at each other like crazed jungle beasts during the rut, enjoying each other for minutes on end until they reached completion. Exhausted and panting, they never did enjoy their meal. Food wasn’t what they wanted, nor sleep, though they both succumbed to it.
She had no idea how long they were out. However, shortly after they’d awakened, two female staff entered the room. Catherine wondered if the owners of this place had wired it for sight and sound, allowing the employees to know when to make their moves. These young women were brunette, cute rather than beautiful and looked like fraternal twins. Their features were that similar.
Tim nodded to them as though answering a question they hadn’t asked.
The one closest to the bed took Catherine’s arm, clearly prepared to help her from the mattress.
“Whoa, wait,” she said.
“Go with them,” Tim directed.
“Where?” She sneaked a peek at the dance floor. “Why?” My god, what did he have in mind?
“You’ll see.”
No fucking way. Call girl or not, Catherine didn’t want anything too crazy, not when she was with him. Nor did she want a cryptic promise. She needed an answer.
“Trust me,” he said, running his hand over the swell of her breast. His thumb stroked her nipple as though they were alone, the staff and those dancing outside this room gone.
Forgetting them again, Catherine whimpered.
Tim kissed her temple. “Do you recall what I said to you earlier about trusting me?”
She did…that he wouldn’t hurt her. Remorse for her continuing lies again ate at Catherine. “I do,” she murmured.
“And you believe me?”
She answered him with a prolonged kiss, deeper, richer, more satisfying than all the others, then put herself into the young woman’s care. The girl brought her to the door on the side that opened into a small bath with a claw-footed tub. Her companion turned on the water, which sprayed gently from a shower wand. Plumes of steam rose, fogging the cozy space perfumed with the same scent Catherine wore.
In here, there were no two-way mirrors facing the dance floor. Not that this place gave one a sense of privacy by any means.
The girl who’d led her from the bed helped Catherine into the tub, where she then directed her to keep standing. Quickly, she pinned Catherine’s hair so it no longer rested on her shoulders. Leaning close, she murmured, “Please keep your arms above your head.”
Catherine didn’t ask why. Finally ready for anything, she folded her arms a
s a ballerina might.
Tim leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his thickening cock and plump balls proving what the scene did to him. As he watched, the young women bathed her. They weren’t shy, lathering her breasts, pussy, buttocks, their hands touching her where Tim had, making her blush and grow even warmer. Once they’d rinsed off the perfumed bubbles, they suckled her nipples simultaneously.
Christ. Catherine moaned.
The one on the left stroked the furrow between her cheeks. The girl to the right explored Catherine’s cunt, fingering her clit.
She gasped at the intimate touch, surprised at the heat and desire pouring through her. Never had females appealed to Catherine. However, these two really knew what they were doing, determined to bring her to orgasm.
Tim wanted the same. Catherine recognized the hunger in his eyes.
She surrendered to that and her climax, helpless against both girls and him, pleased that he’d chosen females for this task. It spoke of his possessiveness and passion for her.
Trembling at the memory, she held back a sigh. “He carried my laptop.”
Alexa stopped stabbing her fork into her salad. “What?”
Catherine took a healthy gulp of her water, wishing she’d ordered a shot of hard liquor instead. “I had stuff to do at the library. He went with me and carried my laptop.” Recalling the sweet gesture, she smiled softly. “We talked.”
For hours, they’d spoken in low murmurs about politics, religion, concerns that mattered to women and minorities—topics no one was supposed to discuss—and discovered they were on the same page with most of that stuff. When they disagreed, Tim listened to her arguments, commenting on them thoughtfully, giving her insight into the other side of the issue. Never did he condescend, not once behaving like the self-righteous, privileged prick Alexa had made him out to be.
After they were all talked out, they’d necked in the stacks like two middle school kids on a hormone high. When they’d paused to gulp air, he’d looked behind her and oh-so-casually asked, “Are we in your way?”
Quickly, she’d looked over, seeing that they were still alone, and punched his arm for teasing her again. He gathered her to him, holding on as though he didn’t want to ever let go. On the walk back to his car, he’d slipped his arm around her waist, keeping her tightly against him so she didn’t slip on the patches of ice.