A Jewel In Time; A Sultry Sisters Anthology

by Barbara Devlin

  She screamed as his lips came down over her mouth. For a moment he thought he may have hurt her, but she wrestled her wrists free from him, gripped his buttocks, and pulled him in even deeper. Her hips rocked to receive him fully.

  He matched their rhythm and the slickness of her stoked and cradled him in just the right ways.

  He wasn’t going to last long in that position.

  * * *

  Sex with Emerson was everything sex with Travis was not. She and Travis had mechanically satisfying sex. She’d been grateful for that since the few yeas prior to Travis, most of her orgasms had come from some silicone powered by two double D batteries. It got the job done, but left her wanting for human contact.

  However, sex with Emerson was unpredictable, passionate, and just plain hot. She could get used to those kinds of sexual encounters.

  On her knees, where he’d flipped her just moments before, Olivia pressed her face and chest into the covers and sent her ass even higher in the air to receive his hard cock in her throbbing pussy.

  He thrust deep and consistent either somehow knowing she liked it hard, or that was his natural style. Whatever the reason, she enjoyed it.

  She balled the blanket in her fist to distribute the waves of pleasure coursing through her. She was on the very edge.

  Being so close to exploding she couldn’t stay in her current position. She slid flat onto the bed. Emerson’s cock exited her. Immediately, her emptiness longed to be filled.

  She didn’t have to wait long. He covered her with his body. He laid his arms on top of hers and speared his fingers through hers and squeezed. She arched into him groaning. She wanted him back in her. Now.

  He shifted his hips, moved her legs wider apart with his then entered her with a grunt.

  The initial push created a sensation so intense her head spun for a moment. With Emerson’s second exit and enter she gasped. “Oh, Emerson.”

  “Olivia.” He kept with the pace. With each thrust, she coiled tighter and tighter. She squeezed his fingers between hers and bit into the pillow.

  He brushed her hair to one side with his cheek then sunk his teeth into her neck at the exact moment he shoved hard into her.

  That was it, the dual assault caused her to tumble over the edge. She exploded, as had he. Lightening bolts of pleasure zapped every inch of her, and she panted and moaned simultaneously.

  When the pulses slowed, he collapsed on top of her and released her hands. He slid next to her, pulled her close, and wrapped his arms around her.

  Satiated, she felt dreamy.

  And ravenous.

  Both for more of him and for food.

  She spun to face him, chest still heaving, and planted kisses on his chin. His eyes opened and he grinned at her.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she received a message from her heart and admitted to herself that she loved this man. Not only did she love him, she wanted to tell him. Fear gripped her though, and instead she said, “That was amazing.”

  “You. You are amazing.” His voice raspy; he pulled her in closer.

  “No, you are amazing.” She licked his neck. He tasted salty, but yummy.

  “K, we’re tied in amazingness.” He nuzzled her. “Hungry?”

  “Very.” She used her coy voice, smiled, and winked at him.

  “Definitely.” He winked back indicating he’d understood her innuendo. “Food now, more of this…” he kissed her forcefully with mouth and tongue, “…later.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I’m in.”

  Emerson rolled onto his back. “Room service?”

  She liked how he thought. “Room service sounds perfect.”

  Olivia watched as Emerson fetched the menu. Her body responded immediately and ached to be close to him, to feel him within her again.

  He plopped on the bed and splayed open the book. “So what would you like Miss Hollywood?”

  “I don’t know if I like that nickname.” She flipped the paper so she could read the options.

  “I’ll call you whatever you want. Baby, sunshine, goddess.” He reached over and tickled her.

  She laughed. “Hmmm…keep going.”

  “Snookums, sweetie pie, princess.”

  “No, none of those.” She scrunched her face. “Too sappy.”

  He shot her a hooded glance. “Girlfriend.”

  She stiffened. Oh, shit. How should she respond to that? Could she be his girlfriend? Technically, she was still Travis’ girlfriend. She was going to break-up with him, but hadn’t yet. She loved Emerson, but he lived half a world away. She studied the menu intensely to buy time.

  Emerson gave her a playful push. “Just kidding.”

  She sighed happy to be off the hook and wondered if he’d really been kidding or not. “I’m thinking the garden omelet with potatoes, a bagel, and a side of fruit. What are you getting?”

  While Emerson chose his meal and placed their order with room service, Olivia put on one of the robes and considered her situation. Just a little over twenty-four hours ago, she had a boyfriend waiting for her in Maui and no other prospects in sight.

  Now, Travis had slept with a Barbie Bimbo named Bambi, and she’d not only done the sheet dance with a Brit whose last name she couldn’t remember, but she’d fallen in love with him.

  In addition, she had brooch dreams that she could only interpret as meaning she was supposed to marry a pirate. And, oh yeah, she’d be spending Christmas in a Boston hotel with said Brit. How had her life gotten so out of control?

  * * *

  Olivia’s sexy black bra was completely visible through his thin white dress shirt. He had two options. One: tell her. Two: don’t tell her. If he told her, she’d borrow something else of his to cover herself. And knowing what he’d packed, it would be bulky and hide all of her curves. If he decided not to apprise her, he’d have the pleasure of viewing her lacy peaks the rest of the evening. Given the options, there was no way he was telling her.

  Since the hotel staff was snowed into the hotel as well, and knew of Olivia’s clothing situation, they had delivered a few items in the lost and found to her. A pair of black stretch pants and a flannel shirt that smelled like Old Spice. Upon encountering the shirt, she’d made a face and thrown it in a corner. Olivia pronounced the stretch pants clean and wearable. Emerson found them body hugging and hot. He also appreciated that she’d tied the tails of his shirt around her waist so the full curves of her hips and ass remained viewable. His willy stirred as he admired them.

  The point of putting on clothing was to join the party in the lounge they’d been invited to by the staff, but one look at Olivia dressed and all he wanted was her undressed and under him. Or on top of him. He wasn’t picky.

  He actually surprised himself that he wanted more. Olivia and he had spent the whole afternoon in the room having sex every imaginable way. His legs and ass were sore, but his willy seemed up for more.

  Olivia stopped fiddling with the angle of the knot. “Guess this is as good as it’s going to get. You ready?”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, but I’m wearing some teenie bopper leggings and your shirt, and I have no make-up.”

  “You’re still beautiful.”

  She blushed. “I, um, nevermind.”

  Emerson crooked his arm and smiled. “Let’s go.”

  She took one more look in the mirror, linked arms with him, and giggled as they traipsed to the elevator. Once inside, she said, “Do not let me drink too much.”

  With thoughts of pinning Olivia to the wall and hitting the Stop button while he ravaged her dancing through his mind, he replied. “Might be fun.”

  She smirked and pinched his ass. He jumped and playfully slapped hers. He enjoyed her frisky nature.

  The elevator doors opened to a lobby full of people talking, laughing, and drinking. There was a cocktail or a beer in every hand. It reminded Emerson of London bars, though it smelled better. Much better. He’d like to take Olivia to his fav
orite pub and treat her to a nice cold hard cider.

  An alarm went off in his head. You thought about taking her to England. You teased her about being your girlfriend. Be careful, you have fallen for this girl, and she just got hurt by another man and might just be sleeping with you to bolster her self-esteem.

  That possible fact stopped him cold. What if she had seen him as just a fling?

  He broke away from her. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Cosmo, please,” she said with a broad smile and a twinkle in her eye.

  That expression, coupled with the sparkle, just about brought him to his knees. He’d fallen for her with his willy. He was good with that. But, bloody hell, his heart had fallen too. And, damn, if that wasn’t scary and inconvenient. “Coming up.”

  He welcomed the crowd that hovered around the bar, and he took his time to get the bartender’s attention. He’d come to America on a business trip. Not just any business trip, but he’d come to save what his ancestor’s had spent centuries building. He would not let the company perish on his watch. But he’d made no progress on that front. An allergic reaction and travel delays had disrupted all of his meetings.

  However, he had stumbled upon Olivia. She was quite possibly the most interesting woman he’d encountered. Smart, funny, and sexy as hell, he wanted her. Their shagging was epic, but he just loved being in her space and felt protective of her. He wanted more than just a shag from her. He wanted all of her. And he was prepared to give her all of him.

  He shivered and raised his hand, “Bartender.” The gentleman came over and took his order. He handed him back drinks within minutes.

  Emerson returned to where he’d left Olivia, but she wasn’t there. He stood in the entrance to the lounge for a few moments and scanned to see if she’d found them a place to sit. He spied her down the long a hallway leading to who knew where. Her back was to him, but he’d recognize that ass anywhere now.

  As he approached, he noticed she was on the phone. He paused, not wanting to be rude, though from where he stood he could hear her side of the conversation.

  “Travis, you were with someone else. I was with someone else. I think that makes it pretty clear we weren’t that good together.” She shifted her weight.

  Emerson debated clearing his throat to alert her to his presence. He couldn’t tap her on the shoulder since he held a martini in each hand.

  “Did you really think that you could romp around with the Barbie quadruplets for a week while I watched my grandmother die and bury her, and I’d be OK with it.” She leaned against the wall.

  Wow, what a wanker. Emerson wondered how long the conversation would go on. He knew he should probably turn around and wait for her near the bar, but his feet stayed frozen in place.

  “I can’t believe you! It most certainly was not my fault, or my grandmother’s fault, that you were in Hawaii alone and had to stick it in another woman! You should have been in New York with me. And I’ve realized that if you were the right man for me, you would’ve been there when I needed you. Not just this time, but all the times over the past year.”

  Emerson felt pride for Olivia the way she stood up for herself. He almost groaned out loud because he felt himself fall a little more deeply for her.

  She stomped and startled him. He jerked and some of the drinks spilled down his hands.

  “No, Travis. We’re over. But the truth is we never started. Goodbye.”

  Those words were music to Emerson’s ears.

  Chapter 7

  Olivia hadn’t known if it was the B52 shot the couple from Omaha, Nebraska bought her, after she’d already had three Cosmos, or if it was the middle of the night bump and grind session, where she and Emerson had gone at each other with such passion she’d knocked her head against the headboard--a few times, that left her temples pounding. But she awoke on Christmas Eve with a hefty headache.

  Emerson had, once again, been her knight in shining armor. He had provided two Advil, tucked her into bed, kissed her forehead, and went downstairs to get breakfast and find out if the hotel had any news about flights resuming.

  As soon as the medication had worked it’s magic, she landed in dreamland.

  She was immediately on the deck of the old ship again.

  Wind howled. Rain pelted her. Her hair whipped into her face.

  Waves crashed, and she held tight to a line to avoid being thrown overboard.

  She wore a white gown under a black trench coat. The thin layers had done nothing to shield her from the bitter cold. She shivered.

  The boat rose and fell with the angry ocean.

  Rising and falling. Rising and falling.

  It took concentration to ride the jolts.

  Rain. Crashing waves. Wind.

  Rising and falling in non-rhythmic patterns. She held on tighter.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow. She was not alone.

  She turned, but there wasn’t anyone there. She moved in the direction of the image. She strained to see.

  More rain. Higher waves. More wind.

  Salty wetness blew into her face. She spit out the icy seawater.

  She closed her eyes against a merciless gust. When she opened them, she could see the silhouette of a man on the deck. He was tall. Wore a tricorn. His long coat appeared stiff and shiny, like it had been tarred.

  Without warning, the bow of the boat shot skyward and her legs came out from beneath her. She was thrown to the deck. Her head smacked the wooden planks and everything went black.

  Startled, she awoke. She struggled to get clarity on the man she’d seen standing on the deck, but she’d not been able to spy any distinguishing details. Disappointed, she sighed, because she’d only seen the back of him. Her pirate remained illusive.

  Emerson laid next to her in bed, with his arm thrown over her. She enjoyed his presence and loved that he’d spooned her all night. She’d take her white night over a creepy pirate any day. Stupid brooch.

  The object of her thoughts noticed she’d awakened. “Hey, sleepy. Feeling better?”

  She rubbed her head. “Yes, much.”

  “Good.” He pulled her closer to him.

  She pushed her ass into his thighs and snuggled her back against his chest. “Any news?”

  “Airport is scheduled to re-open this afternoon for a few incoming flights, but no planes are scheduled to go out until tomorrow morning, though depending on conditions that could change.” He began to trace circles around her left nipple. It responded immediately.

  “And our flight?” She relaxed into his caresses.

  “Well, I talked to two people in reservations, and they couldn’t give me any information. They said that’s kind of a mess, since we weren’t supposed to be here in the first place, and with all the delayed flights air, traffic control is working hard to create a schedule.” He moved to her other breast.

  “So what are we supposed to do?” She arched her back into him.

  “I can think of something.” He squeezed her chest.

  She giggled. “If we could’ve screwed our way to Los Angeles, I’m pretty sure we’d already be there.”

  “True.” He continued to massage her. His touch sent jolts through her that converged in her crotch. She tingled. “They said they’d text us.”

  Her ability to stay present to the conversation became more and more difficult. “So the roads are clear?”

  “Front desk said they are in this area, but other parts of the city, not as much.” He traveled down to her stomach and played with her belly button.

  “Were you planning on taking me on a tour of Boston.” She covered his hand with hers and guided it lower.

  “No, I’ve seen all of Boston I need to. This isn’t exactly a Brit’s favorite American city.” He twirled her pubic hair in his fingers. The sensation sent little zaps through her.

  Olivia giggled. “Oh, yeah.” All of the town’s history she recalled was the Boston Tea Party that lead to the American Revolution, so no,
that wasn’t a high point in British history.

  “Before we get carried away again, would you like some orange juice?” He rolled off the bed.

  She could’ve gone right into another love making session, but she was thirsty. “Yes, please.”

  “I brought you orange juice and a large bottle of water, and just in case you were hungry I got a breakfast sandwich for you.” He held up the booty for her to see.

  Olivia smiled and propped herself against the headboard. “I’ll take them all.”

  Emerson served the items to her. He really was an amazing man. Every step of the way on that crazy trip, he’d been there for her, and it hadn’t been easy.

  “Thank you.” She took a large sip of the orange juice, unwrapped the sandwich and hungrily bit into it.

  Emerson sat on the edge of the bed, chest puffed out. Damn, he was handsome.

  “I love you.” Olivia’s eyes widened. Had she said that out loud? Yes, she had. She’d felt it so strongly, her voice had to proclaim it. She stuffed more egg and muffin into her mouth before something else she hadn’t planned to reveal popped out.

  Emerson gently removed the breakfast sandwich from Olivia’s hands and set it on the nightstand. He took her face in his palms, kissed her cheek, then said, “And, I love you, Miss Hollywood.”

  She had said it, and now so had he. She felt like a Cinnabon--warm and mushy. She pulled him to her and pressed her lips to his. Tongues were soon involved. She forgot about breakfast and devoured Emerson.

  * * *

  A knock on the door stirred Emerson from slumber. He shrugged into his sweatpants and answered it.

  “Luggage for a Ms. DuBois,” announced a portly gent in navy blue with a black overcoat.

  “Yes, I’ll take it.” Emerson searched his pockets, found a few American dollars, and traded the man the bag for the money.

  “Who is it?” Olivia called from under the covers.

  “You are going to be so happy.” Emerson rolled the large bag into the room.

  Olivia jumped up and unzipped it. “My stuff!” With the joy of a child opening Christmas gifts from Santa, she rummaged through her suitcase and tossed clothing, shoes, and accessories onto the bed they weren’t using.