by Pamela Yaye
Horny, wet and desperate to feel him inside her, she hooked a leg around his waist. Crazed with desire, a passion so hot it threatened to consume her, she yanked down his boxers and seized him in her hands. His erection grew, doubled in length right before her eyes.
Still stroking his erection, Simone lowered herself to her knees. Gripping his waist, she parted her lips and eagerly sucked him into her mouth. Slowly, as if she had all the time in the world, she swirled her tongue around his shaft, licking, sucking, tasting. Simone didn’t know if it was the fact that she was in her husband’s office or the prospect of being caught, but pleasuring Marcus made her feel daring, wanton, like a skydiver jumping out of a plane. And the more her husband groaned, the sexier and more powerful she felt.
To control the pace, Marcus cradled her head in his hands. He struggled to remain in control, and when Simone raked her teeth along his shaft, he grunted louder than a tennis player.
Scared he was going to lose his footing, he gripped the side of the closet. Shock and awe filled him, making him feel dazed and confused. Marcus couldn’t believe it, couldn’t wrap his brain around it. Simone was going down on him, here, in his office, at one o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon? Or was it Thursday?
Marcus grunted, groaned his pleasure. He was losing it, babbling like a six-month-old baby, and if Simone flicked her tongue over his shaft one more time, he was going to bend her over his desk and plunge so deep inside her she’d come on the spot.
“Mr. Young?” Someone knocked on the door, then jiggled the lock. “Hello? It’s Jewel.”
Marcus felt groggy, like he’d just awoken from an alcohol-induced nap, but he croaked out a coherent response. “Yes, yes, Jewel, what is it?”
“Your lawyer is holding on line one.”
“Oh, okay, thanks, but don’t put any more calls through.”
“No problem, Mr. Young.”
Her footsteps faded, then disappeared in the corridor.
“I better get out of here and let you take that call.”
Marcus shook his head, but Simone rose to her feet and swiped her clothes up from the floor. In seconds, she was dressed, had her purse in hand and was ready to go.
“Give me a minute, and I’ll get rid of Mr. Rosenfeldt.”
“It’s okay. Take the call. I need to get Jayden and Jordan anyways. Their guitar lesson starts in an hour, and I promised we’d stop for ice cream first.”
“Baby, don’t leave me like this.” His face lined with anguish, he motioned downward and brushed his long, stiff erection against her thighs. “I need you.”
Simone gave him a peck on the lips. “I’ll tell Jayden and Jordan you’ll see them later.”
His shoulders sank. “You know this is wrong, right?”
“What?”
“Turning me on, then leaving me hanging.”
“It’s not my fault your attorney called,” she countered, gesturing at the phone.
Grumbling under his breath, he slid on his shirt, zipped up his pants and stuffed his feet back into his shoes. “Fine, leave, but I’m tapping that ass as soon as I get home.”
“You can’t.” Simone wore an innocent face. “I’m saving myself.”
“For what?”
“Our romantic getaway.”
Marcus reached for her, a sparkle in his eyes and a crooked half grin on his lips. “If you’re saving yourself for our trip to Manchester, then we’re flying out tonight!”
Chapter 9
“Welcome to Manchester, home of the American Fly Fishing Museum,” the pilot said, his tone light and jovial. “The local time is 8:45 p.m., and the temperature is—brace yourself, people—a bone-chilling ten degrees and dropping by the second!”
Groans erupted in first class.
“Sit tight, everyone, and we’ll have you at the gate in a few minutes...”
Simone sat in her plush reclining seat, sipping sweetened oolong tea. It had a delicious fruity flavor and complemented the chocolate éclair she was nibbling on nicely. Simone still couldn’t believe that Marcus had booked them on an evening flight to Manchester, but she was thrilled to be seated comfortably in first class and was enjoying all the perks of flying in style.
The cabin was spacious, the snacks plentiful and the service impeccable. Marcus said I deserve to be treated in style, and who am I to argue? Simone envisioned them in their five-star suite, cuddling and kissing and talking well into the night. The thought excited her, caused goose bumps to erupt across her arms. For the rest of the week, she wouldn’t have to cook or sweep or remind the boys to clean their rooms. Rest and relaxation were the order of the day, and Simone was so anxious to start their romantic weekend she could hardly sit still.
The local news was on the big screen, but Simone wasn’t watching it. Neither was Marcus. He was on his iPad. Had been since they boarded the plane. But Simone didn’t mind. Sure, he hadn’t spoken to her in hours, but she knew once they reached the Chateau LeBlanc he’d give her his undivided attention. After all, this was their weekend to reconnect, their weekend to share and play and love.
“Please ensure you have all your personal items before leaving the aircraft...”
Simone sprang into action. It was her first trip alone with Marcus since the twins had been born, and she was curious to see what wonderful, romantic things her husband had planned. Unbuckling her seat belt, she bent down, shoved her fashion magazines back into her purse and shrugged on her leather jacket. “Baby, we’re here.” Simone clutched Marcus’s leg, squeezed until he glanced up. “The plane just landed.”
Taking out his earpiece, he returned the sleek, electronic device to its leather carrying case. “Are you ready to kick off our romantic weekend?”
“You bet I am!” Simone gave an emphatic nod. “I can’t believe we’re already here.”
“I told you this was a good idea.”
“I still would have preferred going to the Dominican Republic. We haven’t been back there since we got married, and I’d give anything to spend another week at that oceanfront resort.”
Marcus winked at her, patted her hands. “Trust me, once you see the Chateau LeBlanc you won’t be thinking of anywhere else.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I am. To guarantee you have a great time, I spent a ton of money—”
“Being romantic isn’t about trying to outdo The Donald, Marcus. It’s about doing something special and thoughtful for the person you love.”
“I wish you would have told me that before I dropped a fortune on your engagement ring,” he joked, gesturing to the rock on her left hand. “I’m still paying it off!”
Simone laughed, playfully punched his shoulder. “Okay, I admit it, I have a thing for diamonds, but I’d rather spend a weekend alone with you than go shopping anyday.”
“Baby, you’ll never have to choose....”
Their eyes met, held for a long, tender moment.
“You can have me and big, glittery diamonds.”
She kissed him then, allowed her tongue to play over his thick, juicy lips.
“I can’t wait to get to our cabin.” Marcus stroked her neck, placed kisses across her ears and cheeks. “We’re going to finish what we started in my office this afternoon.”
“We will, after we have dinner and...”
“I’m in charge,” he announced, his tone matter-of-fact. “And the first item on our to-do list is to make love. I’m going to make you scream my name.”
“Okay, Mr. Man, you’re in charge, but we have to eat first. I’m still hungry!”
The seat belt light pinged, and passengers surged to their feet.
Simone gathered her bags and stepped out into the aisle. Smiling graciously at the airline crew standing at the front of the plane, she clasped her hus
band’s hand and followed him into the small, bustling terminal.
Since they hadn’t checked any luggage, Marcus hustled Simone through the airport, out of the sliding glass doors and toward the white limousine idling at the snow-packed curb.
“You rented a limo to take us to the hotel?”
“No, I rented a limo for the whole weekend.”
“But, there’s only two of us,” she said, her eyes wide with surprise. “And that limo’s large enough to fit the entire Jackson family!”
“Never mind that, baby. Just get inside!”
The driver, a silver-haired gentleman with kind eyes, held open the back door.
“Thank you.” Simone slid inside before the fierce winter wind blew her away. Stunned by how grand and luxurious the limousine was, she swallowed a squeal of delight. The mirrored ceiling, entertainment unit and the cherrywood bar stocked with beverages and snacks enhanced the stylish decor. The air smelled sweet, and the fragrant watermelon scent caused her mouth to water. “This is amazing! It’s like a sleek New York penthouse on wheels!”
“Nothing’s too good for you,” Marcus said, lifting the remote control off the fridge and pointing it at the entertainment unit. “I’m going to spoil you this weekend, and by the time we return to Chicago you’ll be singing my praises.”
His cell phone rang, and Simone raised her eyebrows.
Without looking down, Marcus slid his phone out of his pocket and switched it off.
Her smile returned. “That’s better.”
“Don’t worry, baby. There’ll be no more interruptions. This weekend is all about you....”
Pleased by his words, Simone sighed inwardly. Pressing herself against the window, she stared at the quaint town nestled against the steep hills. The miles of wide-open fields evoked a sense of calm, of peace. In the distance, Simone saw the jagged profile of snow-topped mountains and a majestic structure that seemed to kiss the sky. “Oh, my goodness,” she gushed, overcome by feelings of awe and wonder. “That must be the Chateau. It’s as tall as the heavens!”
Marcus opened a bottle of rosé cognac, filled two wine flutes and gave one to her. Mischief shone in his eyes, and the hand resting on her thigh was climbing fast. “Let’s make a toast,” he proposed, raising his glass in the air. “To a weekend filled with fun, excitement and lots of great sex.”
“I’ll drink to that.” And she did, downing the peach-flavored drink in two quick gulps.
Marcus slid the universal remote control out of the wall pocket. “It’s too quiet in here. We need some music. Any requests?”
“Anything but rap. I know you have a guy crush on Lil’ Wayne, but not tonight, okay?”
Chuckling, he used the remote to raise the glass divider and lower the overhead lights. Turning on the stereo, he selected a seventies album and settled beside Simone.
R & B music flowed out of invisible speakers, creating a sensual, relaxed mood.
“I love this song.” Singing along with Sam Cooke, the legendary soul singer with the remarkable voice, Simone found herself reflecting on the poignant lyrics of his smash hit “A Change Is Gonna Come.”
This is more than just a weekend getaway, she decided, gazing up at her husband, love and longing filling her heart. This is our chance for a fresh start. “Every time I hear this song, I think about the night we met. It was the first song we ever danced to.”
“I know. I remember.”
Marcus gave her a long, lusty look, one Simone saw as clearly as the moon in the sky.
“That’s why I put it on. So we could reminisce about all the good times.”
Cupping her shoulders, he turned her toward the window and nuzzled his chin playfully against her neck. Kneading her muscles with his palms, he used his long, slender fingers to stroke and caress her. His hands were firm, his touch light, the massage so soothing she felt like curling up in his arms and settling in for the night.
His mouth mapped a trail from her shoulder blade to her ear and back again. Over and over. His lips scorched her, filled her with such hunger and passion, she couldn’t think. Only feel. Want. Desire. Simone’s head fell back, and when Marcus showered kisses down the front of her neck, a purr slipped from her mouth.
Her brain turned to mush.
Her vision blurred.
Her clit pulsed and throbbed and tingled.
Simone felt his tongue part her lips, seeking, imposing. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t stop her heartbeat from roaring in her ears. His kiss aroused her, instantly put her in the mood for loving. Not that Simone planned on having sex in the limo. She wasn’t crazy. Or an exhibitionist. Having a quickie with the silver-haired driver only inches away was something inebriated couples did, and Simone was as sober as a baby. But once they reached the Chateau LeBlanc and checked into their cabin, it was on like Donkey Kong!
Marcus slipped a hand underneath her sweater, caressed her smooth, warm flesh. “I love the way you feel, the way you smell, how delicious you taste....”
Simone tossed a look over her shoulder. A grin curled his lips and lit his eyes.
He fiddled with the front clasp on her bra until her breasts popped out, then flicked his thumb over her nipples. Her skin prickled from the heat of his touch, grew wet and clammy. Simone shook her head, covered his hands with her own. Her body was throbbing, every single nerve, but she was determined to be the voice of reason. “Baby, what are you doing?” she asked, knowing full well what was on her husband’s mind.
“Just go with the flow.”
“I want you, too, Marcus, but this isn’t the time or the place.”
“I’ve always dreamed of having sex in a limo,” he confessed, stroking her shoulders.
“What if the driver’s secretly watching us? Angela did a story last month on hidden cameras in public places, and you wouldn’t believe some of the things people did when they thought no one was looking.”
“I seriously doubt we’re the first couple to ever have sex in his limo.”
Frowning, Simone leaned forward and carefully inspected the leather upholstery. “Yuck, that’s gross. Now, I definitely don’t want to make love in here.”
“But I’ve been wanting you all day.”
“You have?”
“Ever since you left my office. I wanted to do you in the airplane bathroom, but I knew you’d never go for it.” He ran his index finger down her arm. “Fantasies are meant to be fulfilled, and when the mood strikes you should go for it....”
Simone hid a smile. Marcus sounded like Dr. RaShondra, and she couldn’t help wondering if he’d snuck a peek at chapter nine, the short, titillating section entitled “Anytime, Anyplace.” According to Dr. RaShondra, men craved spontaneity and loved unpredictable women. Don’t do anything crazy like giving him oral action in your neighborhood park, she’d cautioned, but don’t routinely reject him, either. A Seductress was always in the mood, always ready and willing to please her man. She was down for whatever, wherever. She indulged in his fantasies, talked dirty in bed and sent him salacious text messages throughout the day. To keep the fires blazing, a Seductress talked sexy, walked sexy and dressed sexy at all times....
“We’ll be quick...” His lips tickled her neck, and his fingers caressed her stomach.
“What if the driver overhears us and calls the police?” she said, still thinking about Angela’s riveting, eye-opening segment. “We could get arrested for indecent exposure, or worse, find ourselves the victim of some creepy online voyeur.”
Marcus turned off the lights and cranked up the volume on the stereo. Now the limo was bathed in a dazzling array of colors and the music was deafening.
“I still have a bad feeling about this—”
The limo pitched violently to the right, sending Simone flying into Marcus’s arms. Alarmed, her heart thundering in
her chest, she glanced out the window. The roads were slick, caked with so much ice that when the limo started up a steep, winding road, Simone feared it was going to slide back down.
“Sorry about that, Mr. and Mrs. Young. I was trying to avoid hitting a deer,” a male voice said through the intercom. “I assure you the rest of your ride will be smooth and comfortable.”
Simone released the breath she was holding.
His grasp on her waist tightened, making her feel safe and snug in his arms. As she parted her lips to speak, to tell him how excited she was about their romantic weekend getaway, his mouth settled over hers. The taste of his lips and the gentle stroke of his caress accelerated her need. Marcus dipped his tongue farther into her mouth, tasting, drinking, sucking.
The kiss was filled with such passion, such desire, Simone’s fears of getting caught in the act evaporated in thin air. A Seductress was always primed and raring to go, and even though she was breaking a commandment or two, making love in the backseat of a sleek, white limo was the ultimate rush. The more Marcus kissed her, moving his tongue freely around her mouth and nibbling on her lips like they were a piece of tropical fruit, the harder it was for Simone to stay in control. It was hard—damn hard to resist Marcus. He felt good, smelled amazing and made her so hot with desire she was quivering all over.
Her conscience attacked her, insisted that what she was doing was wrong. And it was. She was a mother, a respected member of her community, a volunteer. Having sex in a limo—even a pimped-out one with chrome rims and tinted windows—was so...so... Simone couldn’t finish her thought. Not when Marcus was palming her breasts and grinding his erection against her thigh.
Straddling his lap, Simone gripped his shoulders and held on tight. The air was thick, filled with their passion, and it made her feel intoxicated. Simone lobbed her arms around his neck and rocked against his erection. Never had she felt so sexy, so desirable. Her desire was feverish, out of control. “Do. Me. Now.”
“I’d love nothing more,” he said, unbuckling his jeans. “Take off that sweater.”