by CJ Martín
When the bus pulls in I see the headlights of JJ’s Jeep Wrangler. He nods as he sees me approaching and gets out to help me with my bags, but it’s only the one, so I shake him off and head to the passenger door.
“Thanks for picking me up.” I smile at him and spread my fingers in front of the heating vents.
He glances at me and turns the heat up. “Cold?”
“Yeah, the bus was freezing.”
We ride in silence for a few minutes and I look at the clock. “So is he back at the hotel?”
“No, all the guys went out for ribs, which I’m missing by the way.” His eyes droop in disappointment.
“Hey, I said thanks.” I give him another smile. “How’d you get out of it?”
“Told them I had the runs.”
“Gross.” I wrinkle my nose in disgust.
He chuckles. “You asked.”
A few minutes later he pulls in to the hotel parking lot and switches off the car. “Come on,” he says, gesturing for me to hurry up.
“Coming.” I whine, slipping down from the high seat.
We enter the lobby together and the receptionist smiles at us and greets JJ by name. “Popular.” I tease.
“You know how it is.” He jokes back.
We get in the elevator and ride to the eleventh floor. “You don’t have to walk me to the door.” My mind is flustered. Excitement courses through me at the thought of seeing Anders. Dread counters the excitement because of the outfit.
“Yeah, I kinda do. You don’t know where you’re going. Plus, you need this.” He pulls the key card out of his pocket.
“Oh yeah.” I shake my head. “It’s been a long day.”
He gives me a quizzical look, like he wants to say more, but stops himself. He lets me in and then turns to leave. “All set.” He gives me one last backward glance. “He should be back soon. Dinner was at eight so…”
“JJ…” My voice is tight. My panic increases. Am I really doing this? Maybe JJ could give me his opinion. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you… how do you feel about… outfits?”
His brows knit in confusion. “Outfits?”
My eyes find his and widen a little more, trying to convey the meaning of the word. “You know, from a guy’s perspective?”
“Oh—Ohhh,” he says in understanding. “I feel like I shouldn’t be talking about this with you.”
“So it’s a no?” I ask, voice timid. My face heats. I knew this stupid French maid outfit was a dumb idea. Thanks Cosmo.
“What kind of outfit?” The words roll off his tongue smoothly.
“It’s umm…” I trail off, unable to complete the sentence.
He chuckles. “Can I see it?”
My eyes widen even more. “Are you out of your mind?”
He laughs again. “Not on you. Jesus.” He is hysterical. Glad he finds me so amusing. “How can I make an informed decision when I don’t know what type of outfit we’re talking about?”
“Forget it.” I shake my head and he raises his eyebrows in question, but makes no effort to leave.
“Get out.” I yell as I wave my hands toward the door. “Now.”
What the hell was I thinking?
“Okay, okay.” He raises his hand in defeat.
I remain seated on the bed, stomach churning.
“Good night, El.” He singsongs. Just as he’s about to close the door he says, “Outfits are good.”
It’s over an hour later and Anders still isn’t back. I’m in my costume, for no other reason than I spent seventy-five dollars on the thing. As a broke college student it might as well have been seven hundred and fifty. But I’m getting impatient, not to mention uncomfortable. I idly twirl the silk feather duster in my hand. I laugh at the ridiculousness. Anyone who has ever dusted anything would know that this duster wouldn’t clean shit.
I consider texting him, but he’s not supposed to know I’m here, so that’s not an option. My thoughts are drifting and my eyes get heavy as I try to fight sleep. I’m teetering on the edge when the hotel room door opens. The noise startles me and I jump off the bed.
I hear Anders enter but he remains in the entryway for several moments. The wall obscures him from my view, but I hear him throw his wallet and key on the table. I stand at the side of the bed but spin around so my back is to him and I hold the feather duster in my hand. My heart is pounding so loudly it’s an absolute miracle that he doesn’t hear it and come rushing in.
He goes into the bathroom and the water turns on. He brushes his teeth then his clothes hit the floor. If he showers right now I won’t be able to stand it. Hurry up. The bathroom light clicks off and his footsteps fall heavy as he approaches the bedroom. This is it.
I hear a sharp intake of breath and then, “Shit.” I think he may stumble backward into the desk. “What the fuck?”
I still haven’t turned around. I’m so nervous that my body shakes, but I keep my voice even. “I’m here for turn down service.”
“Elena,” he says, fast approaching me.
I turn around, smiling. “How’d you know it was me?”
“I’d know your ass anywhere.” His eyes are big and confused as they sweep over me.
I giggle. “Anders.”
“How? Why?” He can’t get the words out quick enough.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“You definitely did.” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“I wanted to spend your birthday with you.”
“My birthday is not until tomorrow.”
Why is he disagreeing with me? “It’s in”—I glance at the clock—“twenty minutes. I wanted to be the first one to wish you ‘Happy Birthday.’ ”
He shakes his head again. “This can’t be real. I only had two beers.” He’s talking to himself. “Am I dreaming?”
“Anders,” I say, but when he doesn’t respond, I call his name again, more loudly. “Anders.”
He grabs my face in both hands and whispers against my lips, “Jeg elsker deg.” I don’t even have time to question what he just said, because he kisses me, his tongue pushing into my mouth. We both break away, breathless, and he whispers my name against my lips. “Elena.”
I smile. “I have good news and bad news.” I trail my fingers along his bare chest.
He looks at me but doesn’t say anything so I continue. “The good news is I’m here for tonight and tomorrow.”
He squeezes my hips as he pulls me closer. “Fantastic news.”
“The bad news is that I spent all of my money on my bus ticket and this outfit. So, no present.”
His eyes widen even bigger as he looks at me. His hands settle on my waist and he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him. “Where’s the bad news? You’re the best fucking present I ever got.”
For a few stunned minutes my muddled brain couldn’t process who was standing right in front of me. Gigs. In my hotel room. In a fucking French maid costume. It was like my every fantasy rolled into one coming true.
And I stood there like an idiot. Once my brain kicked in I went to her and the words were out of my mouth before I could even think about what I was saying. I told her I loved her, in Norwegian, but the words were no less true. I fucking love her more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone. And I am so happy that she’s here with me.
I pick her up and she wraps herself around me. It feels like home. She is home. No matter where I end up I need Elena with me. I have a million questions for her like how’d she get off work? How’d she get in? When did she plan this? But all that can wait because she’s in a sexy as fuck maid outfit and I’m a guy, so only one part of my anatomy is ruling right now.
My head dips and when our mouths meet our tongues seek each other out. I’m rock hard, and when she settles over me I groan as her warmth caresses me through the fabric. She grinds down on me and my hips thrust against her, showing her how much I want her. My breath has sped up, heart is pounding, and all we�
��ve done is kiss.
I slide her down my body and look her over. Her skirt has ridden up and her tits are straining over the top of the corset. I want to tear it off her. But first I want to admire. “Let me see you.”
She takes a step back and drops her hands alongside her body. My eyes begin at her patent leather feet, travel up her fishnet stockings to the short, ruffled white skirt, to the skintight black satin corset. I can’t wait anymore. I move toward her. “Elena, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
My hands reach for her, needy and desperate, but she slowly shakes her head. “No.” She’s smiling but her voice is clear and firm. I ignore her and reach for her again. She takes another step back, but I move forward again, my movement predatory. We continue this way until the back of her thighs hit the bed. I grin in victory.
She shakes her head and wiggles out of my grasp. Before I know what’s happening, she’s behind me and pushing me down on the bed. Her movements are deliberate and forceful. She’s taking charge and I am not going to lie; it’s turning me on. Really turning me on. I roll onto my back as she straddles me.
“It’s your birthday.” Her smile is sexy, her voice a soft purr. “I’m going to do all the work tonight. I’m going to take care of you.” Her fingers trail over my naked chest to my waist, leaving a blaze of heat in their wake.
My cock twitches against her, showing her how much I like that idea. “I’m all yours, baby.” I cross my hands behind my head.
The naughty gleam in her eyes causes my pulse to jump. She nods in approval as she slides her body down my legs. Her hands work under my pajama pants before she tugs them down. I want her hands all over me. More specifically, I want her warm hands on my cock, but she leaves my boxers on.
She leans over me, grinning as she if she knows exactly what she’s doing, and places a soft kiss on the tip of my cock over the fabric. Please, baby, take me in your mouth.
Pulling back, she rocks onto her heels and runs her hand between my legs, cradling my balls first before stroking her hand up my length. It feels so damn good I groan. Loudly. A dark wet spot forms on the front of my boxers, showing her how excited I am.
She hovers over me, placing kisses on my belly, ribs, nipples, collarbone. It’s fucking torture. Her lips find my jaw and she brushes at the stubble until her lips find my ear, and she pulls the lobe into her mouth before biting it.
“Fuck.” I squeeze her hips. “Elena.”
Her voice is quiet, seductive in my ear. “Are you dirty, Anders? Do you need me to clean you?”
“Fuck yes.” I reach for her tits. I need to feel her. I’m dying.
Before my hands make contact she pulls back, sliding further down my legs, taking my boxers with her as she goes.
My dick stands between us, long and proud, more than ready for her touch. I barely resist the urge to beg. She dips down and I brace myself for the moment her soft, wet lips will find me, but rather than take me in her mouth she leans away. I exhale my breath.
“Tease.” I grit out, but she giggles and reaches for the feather duster beside us.
My eyebrows rise in question but she simply smiles. The first soft, light stroke of the duster on my chest causes my muscles to tense. The wisp of the feathers across my nipples is pleasurable, but when she finally uses it to stroke my cock, and then my balls, I’m panting, out of my mind with need. Every fucking nerve is over sensitized. The light, delicate touch is a whisper of what’s to come and has me pleading for more.
“Baby.” I can barely manage the word. I’ve never been this turned on before. My hands clench at my sides.
“More?”
Yes. No. My eyes widen to the size of saucers as she lifts herself up and shimmies her panties off. She tosses them to the side and settles her hips back over me.
“You sit back and watch.” Her eyes pierce mine.
Sit back and watch her fuck me? Yes, please.
She begins to rock her hips over me, taking what she needs. My cock hits her swollen clit and I feel the wet warmth of her excitement between her legs. She is so soft, so slippery. “Baby.” I groan again. I ache for her.
“You feel so good.”
I know she wants control but I can’t not touch her. I sit up and grab her tits, pulling the fabric down, ripping and clawing until her breasts are free. I pinch both nipples hard.
“Fuck.” She moans, her hips rocking faster.
Hearing that word on her lips increases my desire tenfold. My fingers pinch harder and then I suck one nipple into my mouth. Lips suck. Teeth nip. Tongue licks. I can’t get enough of her.
“Condom.” She pleads.
I release her and reach to the side table but pause midway, the thought registering in my head. I’m not at home. I don’t have any condoms. Fuck.
She’s still rocking against me, making it incredibly difficult to concentrate. “Gigs, stop.” My breathing is so rapid, I’m practically panting. “Stop.”
She. Doesn’t. Stop.
“Baby.” I groan as she slides up my length again. “I don’t—God.” She leans down to kiss my eyes, my cheeks, my jaw. “Baby. Fuck.” Her wet, satin folds glide over my hardness and it feels… Fuck, it’s good.
“What’s wrong?” She pants as my cock hits her clit. “Anders.” She moans my name long and low.
She is so sexy. She is so beautiful. She is everything.
Regretfully I still her hips with my hands. My voice comes out in bursts. “I don’t—” I pause and take a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “I don’t have any condoms.”
The weight of my words sobers her and she looks down at me. “None?”
“None.” I confirm. “I didn’t know you’d…” My voice is anguished. I need to be inside her.
“We still can. I’m on the pill.” She slides against me again. God dammit. She feels good. Too good.
“Are you sure?” What am I saying? I never have unprotected sex. This is Gigs. I don’t come inside girls. You do with her.
She groans as I hit her clit again and a surge of wetness rushes down her legs. “I can pull ou—” I don’t finish the thought because she grips me around the base and she sinks down onto me.
I’m inside Gigs. Bare. My brain short circuits and my mind shuts down. Her warmth surrounds me, cradles me, and pulls me in deeper. Every rhythm. Every pulse. Every throb. I feel it. It’s incredible. Beyond words.
I can’t fuck like this. I can’t.
“Anders.” She moans my name. “You feel… Ahhh.” She rests her hands on my stomach, angling herself deeper. “It’s soooo good.” Her voice is light and breathy.
I want to lift my head to watch her. To watch her tits bounce. To watch her face twist in pleasure. To watch her as she rides me. But I can’t. My body is on overload. Nothing has ever felt this good. My eyes roll back and my head drops down. I push air out through my mouth. “Fuck.”
She keeps the pace slow. Sliding herself up and then sinking slowly back down. Her sexy moans tell me how much she likes it. She’s savoring it. I know I should be too. Christ. I’ll never be able to be inside Gigs again with anything between us.
My balls draw up painfully as I work to fight off my release, but rather than asking her to slow down, I encourage her. “Faster.” I pant as I toy with her clit. Her back arches, pushing her tits closer to my face in invitation. I sit up and suck one tit into my mouth and bite her nipple. Her walls pulse around me and I can’t control my hips as they slam up to meet her.
My fingers play with her and she begins moving faster. I rub harder, coaxing her orgasm as I lick her other nipple. She rides me fast, legs hooked around my thighs, squeezing tight. I can feel her muscles tremble, hear her moans become louder, more guttural, and at the first contraction of her orgasm, I snap.
As she spasms around me I flip her over to her back and pound into her. Like I’ve been dying to do since my first glimpse of the French maid costume. She screams my name, claws at my back as the orgasm washes through her. I don’t let up, my mind no
longer in control of my body, as I slam into her again and again. All too suddenly I’m ready to come.
“Please.” I beg. “Let me come inside you.” I need this more than I’ve ever needed anything.
“Anders.” Her eyes are unfocused as she looks up at me, but she nods.
My eyes are wide, never faltering from hers as I thrust deep into her and remain still, savoring the softness. I pull out and thrust forward again, gripping her around the waist, pulling her up into me. I’ve never felt so connected to anyone. I don’t want it to be over. Ever.
I want all of her. I want her to have all of me.
My hands grab her ass, hold her close, as I plunge forward again, digging my fingers into her flesh, holding onto her for dear life. And then I’m coming. Hard. My muscles tense, my body drips with sweat as I unload into her. She takes everything. My cock twitches inside her repeatedly. It goes on forever.
I remain inside her as I stare deeply into her eyes. I know it then, beyond a shadow of a doubt. She loves me. As much as I love her.
My lips curve into a smile and she smiles back at me. Soft, delicate fingers brush the dampened curls of hair off my face. “Happy Birthday.” Her words whisper across my skin.
“Best. Birthday. Ever.” I kiss her on the lips knowing I should pull out, but it feels too good. I shift inside her, a small shallow thrust. God.
My lips graze her skin as I place delicate kisses along her forehead, her eyes, her chin. “I’m so happy you’re here.” My hips move without thought in slow, tiny pulses. It’s like my body has waited my whole life to feel this, feel her, and I don’t want it to end.
“Me too.” She smiles and wiggles beneath me.
After another minute I raise my weight up on my elbows and reluctantly pull out. My cock jerks in protest. I miss her warmth immediately.
I roll to the side and collapse next to her. My hand finds hers. “Thank you.” I whisper as I bring her hand to my lips. “For everything.”
She smiles as she turns her head to look at me. “You’re welcome.”
We lie there for a little while in silence before she asks, “What did you say earlier?”