by Kelly Alexis
They dried off and moved their lovemaking back to the bed. For the first time, they were on a level playing field, with each trying to please the other. It ended up in another crazy hot mutual orgasm that left them drained and exhausted.
Adam pulled her against him, and they slept curled together on the big bed. It was comfortable and completely natural, unlike any of their nights together.
It was still dark when Whitney awoke. She didn't want to move and risk waking him, so she didn't try to see the time on the alarm clock. All she knew was that this was their last few hours together.
Her check-out time was at noon, and the limo was scheduled to take her to the airport. She had no idea what Adam's plans were.
They hadn't talked about the future, as if that would break the fantasy. It was all about this weekend in this very special suite. Later in the week, they would both return to work, and their lives would be back to normal…separately. For her, normal would never be the same. She would have far higher expectations for any lover to come after him. Poor guy. He wouldn't have a chance against her memory of Adam.
She had come full circle in two days. Her usual conservative, cautious, plodding approach to life had been changed forever. She had embraced the unknown, allowed herself to be subjugated and even abused. It was, for her, an out-of-body experience, where she felt helpless and vulnerable. It also reduced her life down to the lowest common denominator…survival. Her senses had been heightened and everything exaggerated. The pleasure was more intense, the pain more acute.
Adam hadn't actually hurt her physically. But, emotionally, he'd battered her. Add that to that fact that he still had no memory of what she thought had been a special moment at the Halloween party, and it had been an easy decision for her to pay him back.
But what had started as revenge had become desire. When Adam wasn't so full of himself, he was quite charming. His grin and the sparkle in his eyes touched her heart as no one else ever had. He made her feel beautiful and sexy, two things she'd never experienced before. And just as she had learned about herself, she believed he had learned something, too. Perhaps the infamous Dr. King would be a kinder, gentler man when he returned to Houston. Sadly, she wouldn't be there to witness it.
Whitney loved her job and had no intention of leaving it. But she was determined not to put herself into a position of bumping into Adam at another company event. She couldn't bear to see him with another woman, knowing someone else was getting all his affection—affection that Whitney never would again enjoy.
Whitney rubbed her cheek against the soft fur on his chest. She filled her nose with his intoxicating scent and savored the sound of his heartbeat against her ear. Her heart swelled with an emotion she had never felt for anyone else.
Oh, God, could she have been so foolish as to fall in love with her fantasy man? None of this was real. Like Blake said, once she walked out that door, later today, it would all be over. And there was nothing she could do to fix it.
In her world as a physician, she wasn't used to not being able to make things better. Patients looked up to her. Her associates respected her. No one said "no" to her.
But she realized now, she didn't always have to be in control. There could be strength in trusting someone else. And there could be satisfaction. She would leave the Master Suite today with a better awareness of herself, but she would leave alone.
The next time Whitney woke up, her hair was being stroked. She purred and stretched, enjoying the sensation of warm flesh against warm flesh. She felt him kiss her ear, then her cheek before capturing her lips in a sweet, lazy, wake-up kiss.
"I could get used to this," he murmured.
"I thought you never slept with your women." She looked up at him.
"I never have. But I think my sensitivity classes really helped." He winked. "You're an excellent teacher. Maybe that's what you are. A teacher who—"
The ringing of the phone startled them both. Adam and Whitney sat up and exchanged confused glances.
"Did you order breakfast?" he asked.
"No. Am I late for check out?" She glanced at the clock and saw it was only eight-thirty in the morning.
"No one is supposed to disturb us unless there's an emergency." He twisted around and picked up the receiver. "Yes?" He listened for a few seconds then handed it to Whitney. "It's for you. Expecting a call from your boyfriend?" he teased, but she could see he was concerned.
She smiled and shook her head. "No chance of that." She took the receiver and answered, "Hello."
He reached down and inserted his middle finger into her cunt and wiggled it.
She laughed, then her expression grew serious. "Are you sure? Now?" She reached down and grabbed his hand, stopping it in mid-stroke. "I understand. No problem. I'm on my way. Yes, I'll be downstairs in five minutes." She handed him the phone so he could hang it up and immediately jumped out of bed.
"What is it?" His worry was evident.
"It was work. I've got an emergency back home. I've got to go, now."
She pulled on the black dress she had arrived in, not taking time to put on underwear, then went into the bathroom to comb her hair and twist it up on her head in a messy bun. She returned and searched frantically around the bedroom, looking for her shoes. She ducked her head under the edge of the bed and saw they were just out of her reach. "Shit."
"I'll get them." Adam dropped to his knees and reached under the bed with his leg and flipped them from under the foot of the bed. "There."
She stepped into them, grabbed her key off the small table by the door where she had left it and opened the door. She paused and turned back.
Adam crossed the room in three long strides and pulled her into his arms. His kiss was passionate and consuming, as if he wanted to capture every last ounce of her essence. When they pulled apart, she gently outlined the faint line of the W on his chest.
"Goodbye, Adam. I'll never forget you." She gave him a wistful smile and hurried down the hallway.
"Whitney," he called after her. "Whitney!"
But she didn't look back. She couldn't. She had walked out the door. It was over.
Chapter 11
As Whitney approached the front door of her beautiful old house, she saw a large package waiting on the porch. Her neighborhood was an eclectic mix of young professionals, retirees, and artists. They kept watch over everyone else's houses and children, and no one ever had deliveries missing off their stoops. She looked up and waved at Mrs. Kerns, who was weeding her rose garden.
"Working late again?" the older lady asked.
"February and March have been busy months for babies." Whitney tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "That's what happens when people go on vacation in June and July," she added with a smile.
"You should consider taking a vacation. You work too hard."
"I went to Aspen last month," Whitney told her. "But I had to cut my stay short because one of my patients who was expecting quadruplets went into labor two months early." That brought back a flood of memories she wasn't ready to face.
Not that, every single day for the past month, she hadn't thought about the sexy naked man she left behind in the Master Suite. She desperately wished they'd had the rest of that morning to talk. It might have changed everything, but now she'd never know.
She had wanted to leave her phone number, in the hopes that Adam would call her. But she'd waited for a call before, with only heartbreak as a result. He hadn't asked, so she assumed he wasn't really interested in pursuing a relationship after their stay at Breathless. At least he hadn't made any promises he had no intention of keeping.
Whitney gave her neighbor another smile and walked up the steps. She unlocked the front door before retrieving her mail out of the box mounted on the house and picking up the package. It was heavier than she expected, and she had to juggle everything in her arms, plus her purse and her briefcase as she walked inside and kicked the door shut behind her.
She dropped her briefcase by
the hall tree and hooked her purse on one of the coat hooks then carried the mail to the kitchen counter. She dropped it onto the granite surface, kicked off her pumps, and headed for the refrigerator for a glass of wine. She picked up her shoes and went to her bedroom, where she changed into a pair of shorts and an A&M T-shirt before returning to the kitchen.
As she passed the box, she glanced at it curiously. She couldn't remember ordering anything, and her birthday was several months away, so she had no idea what it could be. It couldn't be too important, so she threw together a green salad and added some leftover salmon and took it and her wine out to the patio in the back of her house.
She could see the Gulf of Mexico from her upstairs bedroom window, but down here on the first floor, her backyard was more like a controlled jungle. There were several kinds of palm trees providing shade and tropical ambience, along with an assortment of citrus trees from which she had gathered baskets of fruit for the last three years since she moved here.
Galveston was a wonderful place to live, with temperate weather, almost constant breezes and the scent of the salt water in the air. The medical center where she worked was progressive, and she loved her career. But it was lonely for a busy professional woman.
She had gone out to dinner with a colleague, but there were no sparks. Just as she suspected, being with Adam had raised the bar. With him, she had felt animal attraction so strong, she was willing to give him carte blanche to her body and her mind. She wanted that again but not just for a weekend.
Whitney finished her salad and put it aside while she relaxed and watched the day melt into night. As the wind died down a little, the mosquitoes came out with a vengeance. With a sigh, she picked up her dishes and went back to the kitchen and loaded them into the dishwasher. After refilling her wine glass, she finally turned her attention to the mystery box. The return address said it was from Breathless. Had she left something there in her haste to leave? They had had her bags packed and loaded in the limo by the time she got downstairs. She hadn't even stopped by her own suite. As it was, she barely made it back on Blake's private jet before Lucy Miller delivered four very tiny premature babies. Whitney had not gotten any sleep for the next thirty-six hours, monitoring the babies around the clock until they were out of danger. It was not a task she would have trusted to anyone else, regardless of her intensive focus on her control issues.
But after that, she had turned everything over to her staff and slept for over twelve hours straight. The good thing about having something so critical demand her attention was that she hadn't had time to dwell on her experience of being Adam's sub. The bad thing was that, now that the excitement of the quads was over, she had plenty of time to think about what could have been. The problem was she had no reason to believe that there could have been anything.
She picked up a steak knife and slit open the seams that were sealed with tape. Not too excited about seeing the blonde wig and her lacy underwear that she had left in the Master Suite, she took her time lifting the flaps.
A thick layer of packing peanuts protected whatever it was and hid it from her sight. She had to dig around, trying not to spill them all over the floor as she reached inside and pulled out the solid rectangular object in the box. She set it on the counter and frowned.
It was a briefcase. Why did they send her a briefcase? She hadn't brought one with her, so she definitely hadn't left one behind.
Thinking it must be a mistake, she laid it on its side and clicked the brass locks. When she opened it, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was filled with all the sex toys she and Adam had played with during their weekend. Both of the whips, the masks, the vibrator, the nipple clamps, the scarf, the velvet cuffs and ropes, the feather, and her leather outfit were neatly arranged. Even the collar and leash were included.
What was she supposed to do with all that? She noticed a parchment envelope with the Breathless logo embossed on it tucked in a pocket in the lid. After opening it, she took out a hand-written note from Blake.
Dear Miss Grant,
I hope your trip back was uneventful, and the premature births occurred without any problems. We were sorry your visit had to be cut short.
We also hope that you achieved all your fantasies while you were a guest at our lovely resort. It is customary that we let our guests in the Master Suite take with them all the items that they experimented with so they can continue to explore and enjoy the experience.
Because you were not able to complete your stay at Breathless, we'd like to offer you a complimentary weekend in any suite of your choice.
Also, I don't know if you are interested, but Dr. King has contacted me several times trying to get your phone number and address. Of course, we, at Breathless, will not give out any personal information about our clients. That doesn't mean you can't contact him if you so choose.
All the best,
Blake Ryan
Whitney reread the note twice, trying to read between the lines. Adam had tried to find her? He had contacted Blake several times? Did that mean he hadn't wanted it to end at the door?
This changed everything.
Chapter 12
Adam sat in his leather office chair and tried to pay attention to the monitor on his desk. He gave up and leaned back. His office had a prime location with easy access to the lab. Outside of a wall of windows was a green, open space that was surrounded by benches where employees ate their lunches or patients sat to get some fresh air. On the far side was the teaching hospital and medical offices, where he met with patients during the trials.
This was his whole world. Before his trip to Aspen, he had been content to spend sixty-hour weeks on this campus. Occasional dates had been more about convenience and animal needs. None of the women kept his interest long, and he rarely called them for a second date. It was cold and heartless, but he never gave them false hopes or promises.
For the last month, since he'd been back from Breathless, he had struggled to concentrate on his work. All he could think about was Whitney.
She had left him, standing naked in the hallway. He ran back inside the room and dressed as quickly as he could, but by the time he got to the lobby, she had already left. Adam had gone straight to Blake, who told him that she'd left because of an emergency back home. But that's all the information he would give—not her phone number or her address or even her last name.
"We are an exclusive resort, and one of the things we provide our guests is absolute privacy," Blake reminded Adam. "We never give out personal information to anyone. I'm sure you can appreciate that."
No amount of urging or bribery had made Blake budge from that policy, and Adam had returned to the Master Suite alone. Reminders of her were all around. The midnight blue dress she had worn to that awkward dinner, her blonde sub wig, the rose he had put in her hair, forgotten on the nightstand. He fell back across the bed that felt much too large and cold. All the life had left with her.
Adam went down to breakfast, thinking that being around everyone else would make him feel less alone. But sitting in the restaurant, among the other guests, didn't help at all. He noticed all the Valentine's Day decorations had been removed, which added to the sensation that it had all been a dream.
It was just a fantasy, you idiot, he chided himself. She wasn't real. Her name probably wasn't even Whitney. She had probably made up that whole story about them meeting before. She never had given him any real details. Nor had she told him any personal information about her life, like where she lived or what her profession was. For all he knew, she worked for Breathless.
He felt cheated. Yes, he had enjoyed being her Dom—and her sub. Yes, Whitney had been beautiful and sexy and cooperated with everything he asked of her. Yes, it had been a satisfying experiment, even when she switched it on him and took over.
He couldn't really find fault with that. After he stopped fighting it, he'd had the best orgasms of his life. She'd taken care of him, focusing on his desires and giving him pleasure in ways he
'd only imagined. Being a Dom had been fun, but being her sub had been amazing.
It was Whitney who had made it all happen. She was the key to the process. Without her, it wouldn't have been as wonderful. He had even been entertaining the possibility of defying Breathless' rules and continuing the relationship after they left. He'd assumed they had a few more hours to make love and exchange contact and personal information.
But then she was gone. She hadn't stopped to explain. Or even to say goodbye.
Adam pressed his open hand against his chest. He'd been having the most suspicious heart pains since he got back. He'd even gone in for an EKG, but the results were normal. Then why did he have that empty ache inside whenever he thought back to that weekend at Breathless?
The CEO hadn't been happy that Adam missed the sensitivity class. He'd put Adam on thirty-days probation. But, to the surprise of the CEO, Adam accepted his punishment without protest. He hadn't needed the class to learn that his attitude sucked. It had been quite a surprise to discover that the world didn't revolve around him. It had taken being tied down and helpless for him to accept that perhaps there were different ways of getting things done.
At first, he had planned to trick Whitney into releasing him so he could resume his role. But by the time she had actually removed the cuffs, he would have followed her anywhere. It had been a radical change of viewpoint that had stuck with him even a month later. He looked at people differently now. He actually listened, and he was amazed at how intelligent the members of his staff were.
He leaned forward and returned his attention to the pile of reports on his desk. It had taken a couple days to go through all the emails and return the phone calls he'd missed. He quickly fell back into the routine that should have left him little time to think about Whitney. But he found himself seeing her face when he entered a room or hearing her voice when he walked down the hall.