30 Days

by Christine d'Abo

  “Funny, this is how I pictured it.” It wasn’t surprise in his voice as much as awe. “Not too frilly. Classic.”

  He thought of me as classic? I was happy to have the mask on, because I knew I was blushing. “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you. I know this is a big deal.” He placed a kiss on the inside of my wrist.

  If he was trying to win me over, then he was doing an excellent job. “If it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

  “Now then, I think I need to get ready.” He let go of my hand and lifted the silk mask to his face. “We have a lot to do tonight.”

  Looking down to the items resting on the foot of my bed, I smiled.

  “Time to get going.”

  18

  In my mind, here’s how I’d imagined things going: I’d give him a lap dance, he’d give me a massage, he’d spank my ass a bit, and I’d finish things off by jerking him off with a latex glove. Not a typical Tuesday evening, but certainly one for the memory banks. The masks had been intended only for the massage, but now that they were on there seemed little point in removing them. We knew who each other was, after all; it was more for the game than any air of mystery.

  Those were all good things. It was a good plan! The one itty-bitty tiny detail I hadn’t taken into account during all of my spontaneous planning was the one thing I should have.

  Harrison.

  Damn man had a mind of his own.

  “I think you need to sit down here.” He guided me so I was on the edge of the bed. “And lie back.”

  “But the cards—”

  “I’m following the cards.”

  I’d learned by now not to question Harrison’s intentions. If there was one thing that was clear, it was that the man knew and enjoyed sex. I could trust him to make things good for both of us. I’d been wearing my slip-on shoes, which made it easy for him to pull them off, dropping them to the floor. His hands were warm and once again I marveled at how large they were against my body.

  He cupped my ankles with his palms, gently massaging my feet and between my toes. It tickled for a moment, but the longer he continued on, the more I relaxed.

  “That’s nice.” I sounded slightly drunk. “You’re going to spoil me.”

  “Just doing what I’ve been told.” Then he winked as he slid his hands up my legs to my calves. “This would be better with massage oil.”

  “There’s some in the bathroom. It’s in the medicine cabinet.”

  “Don’t move.” He set my foot down on the bed, leaving my knee bent. The angle had my dress slip down, exposing my bare pussy to him.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, pointing at me. “Soon.”

  I giggled as he strode to the en suite. “On the top shelf. It’s vanilla, I think.”

  “Found it.”

  His grin deepened the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. I liked that look on him. It gave his face character, depth. Harrison squirted a generous amount of the oil into his palm and I was immediately graced with the scent of vanilla. He rubbed his hands together, coating every digit before picking my foot up once more and returning to the task of giving me a massage.

  The oil allowed his fingers to dig into the knots of my muscles, easing his way as he moved up my legs. He seduced me with gentle strokes, careful touches that felt as though he were trying to learn my soul through my skin. Tingles moved up my inner thighs until my pussy was hyperaware of his every caress. My body tried to fight against the temptation to relax, wanting instead to dive headfirst into the pool of pleasure until I was begging for release.

  Harrison was having none of it. He moved with slow, deliberate motions until he reached my thighs. Careful to avoid my pussy, he continued to knead my skin. I was a mewling mess, two parts horny, one part relaxed.

  “I think you should roll over.” He was already guiding me before I could protest. “Let me get the back of your legs.”

  The act of turning pulled my dress even higher. The air from the room kissed the bottom of my ass. As I squirmed, my thighs put added pressure on my pussy.

  “No coming.” He spanked my ass with an open palm.

  I yelped. “The fuck?”

  “It was on the list.”

  I looked up at him over my shoulder. “Fine, but a little warning next time.”

  He shrugged. “Lie down or I might have to spank you again, sooner than later.”

  This was so not how I’d imagined tonight going.

  Harrison returned to my feet and began the process of rubbing up my legs once more. This time he took the time to spread my legs, leaving my ass and pussy visible. The next smack on my ass wasn’t as hard as the first time. The skin stung for a moment before it melted into a pleasant burn. More oil on my skin, the massage continuing along the outside of my thighs.

  I twitched when he hit a sore spot. “I ran way too long.”

  “I can tell. Your knots have knots.”

  Then he spanked me again.

  “You’re a bastard.” I wanted to cover my ass with my hands to stop any further attacks, but couldn’t bring myself to move when he returned to the massage. “Ruining a perfectly good massage with all that smacking and stuff.”

  He squeezed my ass cheeks with his hands. “I’m simply doing what I’m told.”

  “I know you are. Let’s cross that one off the list then.”

  “Vetoed?”

  “Apparently I’m not into spanking.”

  Harrison dipped his hand between my thighs and ran his finger up the length of my pussy collecting the moisture. “Could’ve fooled me.” He circled my clit before rolling his knuckles against it. “I bet we could get you to like it. Start you off slow, some light spanks.” He moved his hand again, demonstrated what he meant by lightly tapping my skin. “Then I could go a bit harder, faster.” Slap. “I could have you on all fours so I could reach through and pinch your nipples.”

  I pressed my face to the mattress and groaned.

  “Yeah, I can tell you’re not into this at all.” Another spank, this time sharper, more biting. The stinging aftermath faded away quickly, leaving a deep heat in place of the pain. It began to spread down to my pussy, heating me from the inside out.

  I was going to freaking come. “Harrison . . .”

  “Soon.” He went back to massaging my ass.

  No, I was just starting to enjoy that!

  Stupid man.

  I began to lose track of time, lost on a sea of sensations as he continued to touch me. God, I still had my dress on and hadn’t come yet and I was probably the most sexually satisfied I’d ever been in my life. When he rolled me over once more onto my back, my mask was knocked askew. I adjusted it, only to see that he’d stepped away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere.”

  Then the craziest thing happened. He started to sway his hips.

  I was staring openmouthed at him as he reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, one by one. I’d actually chosen a few songs that I’d intended to use when I gave him his lap dance, and had them cued up on my MP3 player. Watching Harrison gently buck and roll to a silent beat, his gaze locked onto mine, was far sexier than any music I could have played. More intimate and erotic than any seduction I could have manufactured.

  Pushing myself onto my forearms, I kept my legs splayed open as he continued to strip for me. Inch by inch his chest was revealed, until he let the cotton slip down his arms to catch at his hands. The shirt hugged his hips, framing his stomach and groin briefly before it fell to the floor.

  “I thought this was supposed to be a lap dance.” I’d intended to say it teasingly, but it came out more of a desperate plea.

  “I’m warming up.” As if to prove his point, he stepped closer so his knees bracketed one of mine. “I’m a novice at this.”

  “You’re killing it.” He was killing me with the way he’d roll his hips, thrusting his obvious erection toward me.

  It should have been ridiculous, me on the bed with him doing this w
eird, twitchy-swaying thing to no music. It wasn’t. I loved it. It made my heart melt, made it wander dangerously close to the space between like liking him and possibly falling in love.

  I held my breath when he braced his hands on the bed and lowered his groin to my thigh. In a move that I could only imagine he’d witnessed at a strip club, he rubbed his cloth-covered cock against my leg. My pussy fully appreciated the move, pulsing with the need to touch and be touched.

  “That’s hot,” I whispered. “More.”

  Clearly showing off how much time he spent at the gym, Harrison held the squat while he reached up and opened up his belt and pulled down the fly of his pants. The black briefs were in full sight, as was the press of his erection. He ground down again on my thigh, pressing his shaft against me.

  “We might not get to that other card.” Feeling bold, I reached up and lightly held his waist. “We can always forget it and move on to sex.”

  “What we’ve been doing is sex.” He took my hands and pulled them up along his chest as he straightened his legs.

  “It’s mostly sex. I want this”—I grabbed his cock through his briefs—“inside me.”

  Harrison groaned. “Not until Day Eleven.”

  I’d never been so anxious for a day in my life. “That means I need to jerk you off with the gloves.”

  There was a happy haze that filled his gaze. “No reason I can’t do the same for you.”

  Oh, now that was a very excellent idea. “Deal.”

  “You first.” He gently pushed me back against the bed. The glove that I’d laid out on the mattress had fallen to the floor. Harrison picked it up and slid it onto his large hand as best he could. I’d picked up a box of gloves from the pharmacy. They were similar to the ones found in the doctor’s office, soft. “It’s not a great fit.”

  “I don’t think I’ll mind.” I spread my legs and hiked my dress up the rest of the way. “Shall we?”

  He grinned before climbing onto the bed beside me. “Just relax and enjoy. This might feel a bit strange.”

  What it felt like was cold. The fingertips were textured and skipped across my moist skin. There wasn’t a lot of warmth in his touch, despite the intimacy of where he was caressing. It was weird yet thrilling, this stranger’s touch. The novelty alone would have pushed me to orgasm.

  Harrison took things one step further. He squirted a generous amount of lube across the latex, before he pushed a covered finger into my pussy as he bent his face to my breast and began to lick at my nipple through the fabric. My hips bowed off the bed as I met the thrust of his fingers and tried to escape the wickedness of his mouth. I felt more than heard him laugh as I began to buck my hips in time with his fingers. He sucked on my nipple, the wet fabric bunching up and sticking to the skin. His saliva cooled everything, making my nipple peak even harder than normal.

  For once, it didn’t seem as though he was trying to drag things out. He set a firm and steady rhythm that had my pussy clenching around his finger in no time.

  “That’s it.” He sucked on my breast. “I want you to scream. Come for me, baby.”

  My eyes squeezed shut so hard I saw red. I went rigid as I cried out, my orgasm slamming into me where it was almost too much to handle. Wave after wave rippled through me until it finally dissipated, leaving me behind in a quivering mess.

  Harrison kissed his way up my body until he was looking down into my eyes. Smug bastard.

  “You look happy.” He pushed my hair from my cheek.

  “Mmm. Can’t imagine why.” I placed my open palm against his chest. “This wasn’t how I’d planned things.”

  “They turned out okay.”

  “You haven’t come yet.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Yet.”

  I shoved him until he fell flat on his back. “Give me that glove.”

  The glove was damp on the inside from his sweat and the outside from my come. I knew it wouldn’t be enough to make things pleasant for him. I grabbed the bottle of massage oil and poured enough onto the glove to ensure it would be slick enough to do the job. Putting on a bit of a show, I ignored Harrison and began to talk to his cock. As one does.

  “Well now, what do we have here?” With my glove-free hand, I pulled down the front of his briefs. “That looks a lot like a very nice cock.”

  “If I could assist, I can get rid of these extra bits of clothing.”

  “Hurry please. You’re interrupting our quality time.”

  “Our?” He raised his hips and pulled off his pants and briefs with one smooth motion.

  “Me and your penis.”

  “You’re crazy.” But he still laughed. “Sorry for the delay.”

  “Thank you. Now, where was I. Oh yes, right about here.”

  With a sure grip, I took his cock in my hand and squeezed. I couldn’t feel his skin through the latex, but I knew the sensations that were running through him as I began to stroke. The oil on the glove made weird squeaking noises as I began to pump him. Harrison threw one arm across his eyes while his other hand fisted my quilt. “That’s . . . interesting.”

  “I know, right?” I picked up the pace. “I wish I’d grabbed the second one. I could play with your balls with it. I guess I’ll have to settle for this.”

  With my free hand, I tugged on his sack, tickling the skin with my nails. The dual assault drew a thrusting of his hips in response. That was exactly what I’d been hoping for. There was one final thing I wanted to do, something that I’d been dreaming about since we’d started our games.

  As carefully as I could so I wouldn’t alert him of what I was about to do, I shifted forward and took his cock in my mouth.

  “Fuck!” He thrust up hard and I barely pulled back fast enough to stop from choking on him. “Sorry.”

  I assaulted the tip of his cock with my tongue. It tasted of oil, lube, precome, and latex. It should have been disgusting. Instead I swallowed him down lower and matched my jerking motion with my mouth. The smells and sounds were primal, grounded, and arousing. Drool added to the mix, reminding me just how messy and wonderful sex was. There was one more thing to add, which would make everything perfect.

  It didn’t take long for me to feel the telltale tensing of his body beneath me. It had been a long time since I’d given a blow job, and I was going to enjoy it. He groaned and touched the back of my head in warning of his impending release. I didn’t care, staying put, wanting to taste his come in my mouth.

  Micro-tremors racked his body until I felt the first gush of come across my tongue. It was only then that he cried out, thrusting deep into my mouth. Come hit the back of my throat, bitter and thick. I know a lot of women don’t like the taste of it, but I for one do. There’s nothing else like it on Earth, no taste that can compare, and I greedily swallowed every ounce he gave me.

  Discomfort in my legs and back finally drove me to release him and stretch out long beside him on the bed. As he lay there panting, I pulled the glove from my hand with a snap and tossed it to the floor.

  “That was fun.” I turned my face to look at him, but he still hadn’t opened his eyes. “You okay there?”

  With his arm still draped over his eyes, Harrison licked his lips. “We should go out to supper.”

  I blinked several times. “Pardon?”

  “Dinner.” He turned his face so he was able to peek at me from beneath. “You and me.”

  “I . . .” Frowning, I gave my head a shake. “I thought you weren’t interested in a relationship.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Dinner, not marriage.”

  “You’re a jerk. Why would I want to go out with you?” I didn’t want to appear anxious for his answer, because as much as I tried to hide it, eating out with him was an idea far more tempting than it should have been.

  He finally dropped his arm and rolled onto his side to better look at me. “Despite knowing that I’m leaving in a few months, despite having other women express interest in starting something up with me, despite knowing neither of us
is ready for anything beyond this, I can’t help but want to take as much as I can from our time together. In other words, I like you and want to get to know you better.”

  Oh. I blinked past the sudden rush of unshed tears. I shouldn’t feel excited about the prospect. I shouldn’t feel guilty either, but somehow I was both. “Well fine then. Since you put it that way. I’ll happily go out to dinner. But you’re still a jerk.”

  He smiled. Not a smirk, or a grin, or anything else. A genuine smile that lit up his eyes and ignited a warm glow in my chest. Maybe, despite everything that was working against us, things would be okay.

  Ignoring the whispering doubt in the back of my mind, I snuggled in close to him and let my mind drift. After all, we were going out to eat. How bad could things be?

  19

  The next few days became a series of text-flirting, researching restaurants that were nice but didn’t scream we are having a date, and masturbating. I had to work as well, which totally put a kink in the whole fantasizing about meeting up with Harrison. He had several client meetings through the week, which made it challenging to spend time with him.

  No wonder he was single. Dude was a total workaholic.

  The amount of time working had been the one thing Rob and I had argued about. He was a teacher, which gave him lots of time off, but in specific time frames. He’d poke at me when I wasn’t willing to use up some of my precious four weeks off to go to a matinee, or take a long weekend just to fool around. But even I worked less than Harrison.

  It meant some careful planning when it came to arranging our dinner. After looking at schedules, we settled on Thursday night at seven.

  I was a distracted mess at work the entire day. I managed to blunder through a revision-note meeting on the newest security hardware manual, which went right up until five. Then I quickly said my good-byes and bolted for the subway.

  It took me an unreasonably long time to get ready once I got home. It wasn’t as though Harrison was going to think any less of me if I wasn’t all decked out. Hell, I still wasn’t exactly sure if this was a date date, or if we were just two sort-of friends who’d had sort-of sex going out for dinner. Because dressing for one of those was way different from dressing for the other.