by J. L. Brooks
“Where are you, Lila?”
Hunter was studying me with the utmost intensity. Smiling slyly, his chin was perched on his elbow, head tilted to the left as he sat across from me.
“Subspace,” I joked.
“What do you know about subspace, Lila? I never took you for being anything other than a domme, too untrusting.”
I laughed at his knowledge of the S/M lifestyle. “I write dirty books, you know. I could be submissive under the right person. The problem is no one is man enough to put me in my place.”
His eyes slowly began to glaze over. This was not a conversation I could have ever pictured myself having with him. Granted we were adventurous when we were together, but role-play was something that never even crossed my mind back then. He’d struggled with the fact that at the age of twenty-one, I wore full brief panties and not a sexy thong from a lingerie shop. For my twenty-second birthday, he even went as far as taking me to a Victoria’s Secret and pointing at three separate tables, telling me to pick from just those and no others.
That was not me; I was not that sexy girl. It was even worse when I found out my mother encouraged the plan, as she was often tucking my thick elastic undies into my low hip huggers on the way to church.
Conspiracy! I giggled thinking about that moment and the fact that I was still wearing the same damn wideband elastic underwear. I could never break the habit. I owned drawers full of lacy boy shorts, silky thongs and negligees, but my granny panties would never go away. Seeing me laughing to myself caused Hunter to kick my leg.
“What’s so damn funny, Keaton?”
I pressed my tongue against my upper teeth in a wicked grin and pulled the edge of my pants down, revealing my source of humor. Shaking his head, he covered his mouth and chuckled along with me.
“Some things never change, do they?”
I couldn’t help but laugh ecstatically. Funny how a simple gesture could restore years’ worth of memories from the subconscious. That one trigger unfolded the past in an instant. In another quick motion, Hunter unsnapped his belt and was squeezed between my legs with my head smashed against the plush Italian leather seat under his hungry lips. Perhaps my dream of joining the Mile High club was not so far-fetched.
I relaxed into his kiss, tasting the sweetness and urgency. Frenzied hands pawed at my legs, shoulders, anywhere he was able to grab flesh. I unbuckled my own seat belt and fell to the ground beneath him. He was rock hard and ready against my stomach without any provocation other than showing what type of underwear I was wearing. It was hard to believe such an innocent gesture could turn into such a blazing encounter. I should have had my wits about me, but I was not myself. I was vulnerable, my guard down from the past twenty-four hours, and he took full advantage of it. I held the door open and let him waltz right in.
Sweeping his hands down my ribcage, he unsnapped my jeans and lifted himself enough so I could shimmy them off. Hunter was not a stranger. This wasn’t some random sexual act with the unknown, not that it justified the behavior. His hands on my body felt as though I was finally able to breathe after being held underwater for far too long. My skin melted beneath every caress, each kiss reviving a stagnant heart.
“Fuck, Lila, tell me to stop. I can’t until you tell me to.”
“Don’t stop, for the love of God, please don’t stop.”
I was honest. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to devour every square inch of my flesh. The moment of truth came as his swollen head prodded my silky folds. He looked me in the eye for confirmation; he would not force himself on me. Slacking my legs out a little more each way, my hand pulled against his waist, encouraging him forward. A ragged exhalation of breath escaped my lungs as he sank deeply. He stilled against me, shaking and clinging tight. With his head buried in my neck, I whispered my only wish.
“Please, Hunter, I need you.”
His hips began to grind in a slow, circular motion, forcing me to cry out. Warm breath on my ears melted with a low laugh ringing deep as he lifted my legs up to press against my body, calf muscles resting on his shoulders. In this position, he pounded forcefully, then slowed his cadence, instructing me to play with my clit and bring myself to climax.
“So fucking hot, so fucking perfect.” He grunted as my body shook beneath him. Knowing I was satisfied first, he took advantage of the extra wetness and threaded his fingers through my hair, holding me in place as he molded my body to his will. Hearing our grunts and bodies slapping with sweat brought me once again closer and closer to the edge. I hadn’t been rocked this hard since it was hard to remember. Since him. No one had ever touched me the way he did. I suddenly felt angry that he ruined me.
Before I could get too lost in the thought, I felt his back stiffen as his speed increased, indicating he was near. For the first time in years, I allowed my body to relax and simply feel every stroke, the heat of his skin and taste of his sweat.
Part of me realized it was a little late to be thinking about catching something from him, the other part didn’t care. I had been dating someone seriously for six months and sprang for an IUD. A month later the relationship fizzled; however, I still had a good four years before I needed to remove it. I refused to believe Hunter would knowingly put me in danger. If he did, I deserved it.
With a ferocious cry, his fingers dug into my shoulders as he found his release. His seed was like lava pouring out and seared me from within. After collapsing onto my chest, my fingers lightly grazed his shoulders as our breathing slowed. Guilt was a sad little puppy at my feet, and it knew I didn’t give a flying fuck. As I squeezed my channel walls in a playful manner, he laughed.
“Stop it, I’m sensitive.”
I squeezed again, ignoring his whine.
Grabbing my arms and holding them above my head, Hunter looked down at me with the most peaceful expression. That post orgasmic glow.
“I’ve missed you so much, Lila, you have no idea.”
Hunter’s confession caused my inner defenses to rise up. I turned my head and forced my body away from him. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be so careless, but I couldn’t stop. Standing up, I looked over my shoulder at him.
“I can imagine.”
As I rushed to the plane’s lavatory, I nearly keeled over at the opulence. Accustomed to the tight quarters of commercial flights, I was unprepared for the master bathroom I walked into. There was a tiled shower, full toilet and sink. I did not have to squat to relieve myself, nor maneuver around awkwardly. Walking out without any clothing, I was surprised to find Hunter fully dressed and back in his seat. Nervously I found my jeans and t-shirt and pulled them on in haste. Taking my seat I felt suddenly ashamed at my brazen behavior. Did he think I was like this all the time?
The fear made me quiet the rest of the way. I curled into my seat and pretended to sleep. A few moments later, everything swept away. Hunter tapped my shoulder lightly to rouse me from my slumber.
“We’re here, Lila. You passed out the moment we took off and have been sawing logs ever since. You must have needed sleep more than you thought. Good thing, too, because we have quite a bit to do tonight.”
Shaking my head in confusion, I rubbed my eyes in the bright cabin.
“I passed out at take off? Are you sure?”
“Yup, out cold.”
There was no indication he was being untruthful. As I began to waken more, I noticed that his outfit was different than I remembered. I stood and stretched while he wrapped the cord around his headphones and shoved them into his satchel.
“Let me use the bathroom real quick. Is that okay?” I asked.
“Of course, I’ll wait.”
After opening the small door, I knew I had to have been dreaming before. This was not the cavernous spa I had envisioned. Every detail was so vivid and real, while becoming more disappointing every passing minute. He had not touched me, much less annihilated my body. I was not sore as one would be after having not been intimate with anyone for so long. Sadness pierced my he
art at my cruel imagination.
I cracked the door to see Hunter lounging casually on the chair, and his face lightened up as I approached. It could only be fantasy being that easy. He pitied, not desired me. He knew I was a mess when all I wanted was for him to fuck me. I wouldn’t blame him for not going down that road. It might be a lot of fun, but there could never be no-strings between us. Even after all of this time, the invisible cords that bound us tugged a little tighter, making their presence known. I wish I knew how to cut them . . .
It had been quite some time since I had felt so feminine, so ladylike. The delicate silk lay smoothly against my hips and thighs, clinging to the sheer fabric of my stockings. Gone were the days where this was commonplace; women did not wear garters and corsets as part of normal attire. Or perhaps they did—just not in the circles I was familiar with. When I stated I wanted to buy some new underwear, yet leaving out the dream, Hunter insisted on the finest garments at the shops along Michigan Ave. Forgoing the typical La Perla, he sought out a smaller boutique hidden among the larger merchants. The woman smiled as she grabbed a champagne-colored piece from the rack I kept eyeing and ordered me to undress.
I came out from the private changing room and twirled around for approval. “Get a good look now because no one else is going to see this for a while,” I chimed while looking in the mirror, smoothing my hands down the sumptuous fabric.
Hunter tilted his head a little before looking back into my eyes. “What if I took you somewhere tonight where you could show it off?”
I turned and pursed my lips at the suggestion.
“Where could I possibly go that it would be acceptable to show this off in public? And no, I’m not doing a private show in your room.”
Hunter pushed himself away from the leather chair he was lounging in and moved towards me with grace. Sliding his fingers down the bodice, he played with one of the laces draped over my hip.
“Lila, not my room, though we could always arrange something.”
I slapped him against his chest and looked back at my reflection in the mirror. Hunter dipped his head into the crook of my neck and placed a soft kiss. “I think this place might help you with your dilemma. Since you write dirty books and all, it might give you a little inspiration.”
Smiling mischievously at the proposition, I bounded back into the room to be unlaced and then purchased my new wares. Although the price tags made me grimace, I couldn’t deny how sexy I felt in them. Hunter immediately stepped between the sales woman and myself, looking stern as he handed her his credit card.
“This is a gift.”
As the clerk looked to me, I simply shrugged my shoulders and grabbed the bags. If he wanted to pay for my underwear, it wouldn’t be the first time.
I swung my bag in a wide, carefree motion as we strolled down the Mile and enjoyed the warm weather. After a gorgeous day at the museum and lunch on the pier, I was ready for a nap. My yawns became more frequent, and he finally caught the hint I was running low on steam.
“Okay, you want a nap. Good, because like I said earlier, tonight will require a lot of energy.”
I couldn’t imagine what he had in store, but my senses were reeling. Being so close to him and acting so casually was wearing down my defenses, as if I had any. This morning I had already dreamt of what he could do, and every subtle movement confirmed it. I never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted Hunter Michaels, and I felt like a feral animal, hungry and insatiable. The way his eyes scoured me in the small shop and that kiss confirmed he felt the same way. He was getting braver with his advances, and I was no idiot to guess the intentions of a man who took you to buy hundred dollar panties.
As we approached the hotel and slipped into the elevator, I chanced the opportunity to grasp his hand and squeeze. Instantly his body relaxed and he gently squeezed back, as if I had provided some life affirming gesture. I giggled as we approached our shared room, and I tossed the small bag on the bed before taking a shower. I needed the rest and would not bother to shave my legs later if I did not do it now. Taking the slow opportunity to tidy every area of my body, a small part of me anticipated he would be seeing me naked, that he would cross the line of good intentions. I was counting on it.
After sleeping deeply for the three hours I napped, Hunter gently shook my shoulders to prepare for the evening, yet I would have been perfectly content staying in bed.
“Get up, Lila, it’s almost time to go.”
“Go where?” I grumbled while flipping onto my stomach.
“It’s special, I promise. Now get up.”
Climbing off the bed with reluctance, I removed the items from the small black bag and took great care not to rip them as I slipped them over my feet and ankles. I needed assistance lacing up the bodice, in which Hunter was happy to oblige. Small spaghetti straps clung to the black sheer fabric I dared to call a dress. Brushing across my upper thigh, it moved back and forth daringly. He said to get something suggestive, but this screamed sex.
His eyes grazed my silhouette as I walked out of the bathroom and into the suite. Wrapping up in a soft pink pashmina scarf, I appeared somewhat presentable leaving the hotel. Hunter walked purposefully beside me, and with authority, to buffer any unwanted advances, claiming virtual ownership to his property. This role was unfamiliar and exhilarating as well as degrading. I was so much more than arm candy, but no one knew that.
After slipping into the sleek town car, we traveled for what seemed to be an hour through the city into a more industrial part of town. There were no vagrants or prostitutes on corners; we were quite distanced from occupied parts of the city. Pulling up to a gate, the driver punched a code, granting us access to the secured lot. There were rows of Audis, BMWs and other high-end automobiles. Hunter paused as the car came to a halt and handed me an elaborately decorated mask.
“You need to wear this. House rules.”
“House rules?” I questioned as my fingers ran across the soft interior. These were well-crafted, not a chintzy dime store creation. He did not respond, so I slipped the piece over my head and felt it conform to my face. Stepping out of the car, I walked up the path to the entrance, resting my hand on Hunter’s arm.
Loud music rattled the walls of the nondescript brick building as two men with headsets stood outside of steel doors omnisciently wearing brass knuckles and guns in visible holsters.
Hunter walked confidently with me in hand and said one word. “Genesis.”
The men turned without question and opened the imposing steel doors. Inside, vibrant lights and pulsating bodies moved in rhythmic motions to the music pounding from the speakers. The building was quite large as I could assess from the outside, yet this was a fraction of the compound. After entering a series of corridors, the hall opened to a set of steps into a cavernous room. Moving to the bar near the dance floor, Hunter whispered to the bartender who promptly went into a back room and returned with a bottle of expensive vodka.
“Why isn’t it out for display? What kind of bar doesn’t have it ready to go?”
I was curious about the lack of glass bottles so commonplace to a normal establishment.
“This is a special bar, Lila; they are BYOB. I had a bottle delivered earlier today.”
“Why are they BYOB? It’s not a strip club.”
I looked around at the fully clothed bodies on the dance floor. Nothing seemed out of place except the alcohol situation.
“I brought you here to watch, Lila. It’s still early. Drink this and let’s sit down.”
I took the vodka and cranberry from his hands and sipped the sweet liquid slowly as we walked to a plush velvet booth. After a few drinks, I noticed people pair off and head down the various exit points off either side of the dance floor.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“They are going to fuck,” Hunter said with no emotion.
“Are you serious? Where are we?”
“Lila, this is a Lifestyle club. People come here to swing.”
&n
bsp; I shook my head, not fully believing what he said. “And you brought me here why?” I asked, pursing my lips inquisitively.
“Because I thought it would inspire you.”
“Inspire me how?”
“You need a story, right? Write about what you see here tonight. There will be enough for you to write a hundred novels.”
His nonchalance was disturbing, and my body froze at Hunter’s attempt to rouse my muse. Although his intentions were creative, I questioned his motives.
“Do you want to fuck me?” I whispered near his ear.
His hands laced through my hair while staring into my eyes. “Do you really have to ask?” He seemed so certain and assured in the moment, whereas I was freaking the hell out.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
Hunter pointed to a small corner and loosened his grip. Moving swiftly, I pushed on the padded doors and leaned over the sink, ready to hurl. Only a few minutes passed before I heard her voice.
“Oh sugar, we’ve all been there. I can see this is your first time. You need to relax; it’s just sex. Let me help you.”
I turned towards the velvet voiced angel and stared at her gorgeous porcelain skin and long blonde hair that lay braided to one side. Wearing a tight, black leather dress, she reached into a small, golden trinket box and removed a pink tablet.
“What is that?”
The woman laughed, knowing I wasn’t that naive.
“It’s exactly what you need right now, sugar; it will make you right as rain. Promise.”
“My mom always told me never to take anything from strangers.” I laughed.
She returned my smirk and reached out her hand.
“My name is Candy and I have the best. Besides, I like to help out when I can.”
I reached out for the pill and held it in my palm. Stamped on its surface was the imprint of an apple.
“How appropriate,” I whispered.
“Indeed.” Candy smiled as I studied the pill for a second before swallowing it with a few large gulps of water from the bathroom faucet.