Hook, Wine and Tinker

by Mardi Ballou

  The night was speeding away. Soon he’d have to talk to her about what lay beyond—about his plans for the future. But for now, well, his cock was signaling loud and clear that it was long overdue for release.

  If Gwyn had any idea how magnificent she looked, her high, proud breasts jutting up at him, her feminine core open and glistening even now with desire and totally available to him, she’d play him big time. But she seemed oblivious as to her true beauty and desirableness. It was clear the way Payne treated her that he was an immature boy, little better than a high school punk, when it came to women. Gwyn deserved a man who could appreciate a woman like her. She watched his every move, her big green eyes pools of emerald desire. Caring. Admiration. And, did he dare think it, love. He could drown in her eyes and be a happy man as he went down for the third time.

  He straddled her hips, his cock against her belly as he bent to kiss her face. Rock hard as he was, he didn’t think he’d last too long. But even now, after all their loving, he wanted her to know he never thought just of his own pleasure, his own needs. He wanted to be sure she was thoroughly pleasured and satisfied before he reached his own climax.

  So he kissed her first, savoring her lips and the taste of her. He probed her mouth with his tongue, gratified to feel her tongue probing right back at him. He stretched out full length on top of her, feeling her nipples bead and stiffen against him. Her heartbeat told him of her excitement, as did her rapid, shallow breathing and the delicious writhing that tested the limits of her bonds—and her lover.

  He raised his ass up, his hands tight on her. He needed to be in her, now, the whole evening before this moment one long foreplay leading them here. With a groan, he rolled away from her, reached over to the night table for a condom, and with trembling fingers smoothed it over his waiting cock. As the head of his penis touched the rim of her cunt and she thrust herself up to him, he bit his lip to keep from starting his climax right then. Her warmth beckoned him, a solitary wayfarer who’d tarried far too long away from home. Because she was definitely his home.

  With a moan, he thrust his cock into her, slowly, slowly, moving each millimeter with the most infinitesimal progress—his restraint the hardest thing he’d ever done. He imagined his cock a glacier, a river of ice slowly covering rich earth. But try as he might, he couldn’t maintain that charade for very long because her heat was quickly melting whatever ice he could conjure.

  With her legs bound, her pussy sheath was shorter than when she could wrap her legs around him. For a moment, he regretted the binding because he longed to feel her legs embrace him, suck him in deeper. But her writhing against the silk bindings and the sight of her trapped below him excited him too much for any regrets to last. As she tossed from side to side, her breathing grew ever shallower. Soon her hoarse panting had his bloodstream coursing at top speed. She moaned his name and reached her face up to him, wanting to taste his lips. He lowered his head and kissed her, sucking her lip, biting her, possessing her. She broke the kiss and lay back against the pillows for a moment, her eyes closed, a smile on her lips.

  Dominic tried to maintain his slow rhythm as he moved in and out of her tight, hot narrowness, but his control was rapidly dissipating. He needed to thrust harder, faster, deeper to feed his enormous need for her. He nearly lost all control when he felt her cunt muscles ripple and clench him. Her groan and the way she tossed her head from side to side signaled that she was beginning to climax.

  Not a moment too soon. He let go at last of the control he’d struggled for so long to maintain. Letting go, letting go. She screamed out his name and he paused for a moment to savor her orgasm. And then he resumed his movements, in and out, in and out, all pretense of control shattered. His whole body and soul tightened with his own climax. He spurted cum into the condom deep inside her—an ejaculation that left him drained, exhausted, mellow—for the moment. He collapsed on her, spent.

  Though he wanted to linger, he couldn’t stay where he was for long. They had things to talk about, and he couldn’t think clearly on top of her. He carefully rolled off her, disappointed to have to move so soon.

  “Michigan,” she whispered as soon as he’d stretched out beside her.

  “Michigan?” And then he remembered. Their code word. “What is it, Gwyn?”

  “The bindings,” she said. “Please take them off. Now. I want to hold you, and I can’t.”

  Of course. She was still tied down. He quickly undid the knots, letting the pieces of silk slip away. “Do you want me to rub your ankles and wrists?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, but I want to take off the wig now and let down my hair.”

  He helped her remove the bob and fluff up her hair. She carefully took off the earrings and pearls, which he put on the night table.

  “Anything else?”

  “Just hold me,” she said.

  He did exactly what she asked.

  * * * * *

  Gwyn opened her arms to Dominic and savored the feel of his body cuddled against hers. She wasn’t sure she liked being tied down as much as she’d liked having him tied down. Maybe they’d have to repeat both positions so she could decide. But she definitely loved having him next to her like this.

  She laughed at getting into a major internal debate with herself about which position of being tied up she preferred. Maybe it helped her avoid thinking about what would be coming soon—the end of this magical night. The whole rest of her life, whatever she did and whomever she did it with would be a poor second.

  She sighed, and he nestled closer. Her body felt so right molded against his powerful one. With him she felt all the things she’d never felt herself to be before: beautiful, desirable, a veritable sex kitten. Hell, with him, she was a much sexier and more dangerous cat. A panther or a leopard or something.

  This was a night for her to be able to tell her daughters and granddaughters about. She chuckled. As if.

  “Sleepy?” Dominic asked. “Mmm,” she murmured, nuzzling her head in the perfect spot between his chest and his chin. She should be tired. She had no idea what time it was, but she was positive it had to be pretty close to morning. And then she’d have to go home and think about Dominic sailing off somewhere else, doing with another woman everything he’d done with her tonight. She felt vaguely like Cinderella, but that was a different story. And she wasn’t going to leave a glass slipper behind.

  Just her heart.

  When she’d come to Dominic’s quarters, she’d been pretty determined to go home and break off with Peter Payne. She thought of him again. He couldn’t compare to Dominic, not on any level. But Pete was part of her real world, not some impossible fantasy like Dominic. In this case it was only Captain Hook, and not Peter Pan, who lived in Never Never Land. Exciting as this night had been, real life was about daily living—not about having some wild adventures with a man who had lots of expensive toys and read her like a book only he could open.

  She’d just about convinced herself to leave the yacht with her upper lip stiff, her eyes dry, when Dominic said, “Come with me, Gwyn.”

  She laughed dryly. “I just did. Several times.”

  He kissed her and chuckled. “I don’t mean sexually. Well, not just sexually.”

  “Huh?” Maybe her ears were playing tricks on her as she drifted toward sleep.

  “Come with me, Gwyn, and see the world.”

  “What are you, a Navy recruiter?” she needed to show that she knew he was playing another game with her.

  “Only for my own personal navy,” he said, his voice totally serious.

  “What game is this, Dominic?” she asked, wanting him to move to a safer topic.

  “No game, Gwyn. Game time is over. I’m sailing off to the Caribbean early Monday. Want to check out my resorts in Puerto Rico and the Isla del Oro. I want you with me.”

  She drew away from him. “You’re joking, and I have to tell you I don’t like it.”

  “I never joke about checking out my resorts. Keeps the st
aff on their toes.”

  “Not about that,” she said in a very small voice, annoyed that he was pretending to misunderstand her. “About me coming with you.”

  “I’m not joking,” he said, stroking her face with his fingertips. “I mean every word I’ve said to you tonight.”

  Now her head really began to spin. “Michigan.”

  His hand froze where it was. “You want me to stop stroking your face?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It makes me crazy, and I can’t think. But I also want you to stop fooling around.”

  “Fooling around? What do you mean?”

  “About inviting me to come with you.”

  “I’m not fooling around, joking, playing games, or anything else like that. Gwyn, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  Her mind went racing with the possibilities he was throwing open to her—and that was far more dangerous than any of the role plays or toys he’d come up with. She glommed onto the practical, concrete aspects of her life that she could throw in his face as solid objections to his scheme. “You think I can just take off with you for some days of fun and sun like some playgirl? Dominic, I live in the real world. With a job and a cottage and plants that need watering…”

  “Gwyn,” he said softly, raising goose bumps up and down her spine, “I want you to come for way more than some days of fun and sun. I want us to get to know each other on every level. I want to be with you as you discover the big, beautiful world out there as well as the one inside you. We couldn’t begin to do any of that in a few days.”

  Oh, he was really scaring her now—saying everything she wanted to hear. She really needed to keep her distance. “You mean a month? You expect the travel agency to hold my job if I take off for a month? And what about my cottage? I can’t afford to pay rent on a place I’m not living in, especially if I’m not working.” She was starting to get a headache with her effort to convince him—and herself—that she wasn’t about to let him entrap her with his words.

  Dominic shook his head. “Gwyn, please listen with your head and your heart. I want you with me now and for the future. Give up the job and the cottage and come with me.”

  She pulled away from him, sat up, and crossed her arms over her bare breasts. “Okay, fun’s fun. But I’m not about to give up my home and my job just because you have a whim.”

  He sat up and put his arms around her, his face against hers. “I promise that if you ever need either a job or house again, I’ll put all my resources into helping you.”

  She squirmed away from him, not enjoying what was evidently his weird sense of humor. “I don’t like this new role play you’re doing,” she said, her voice very low to keep it from quivering.

  He furrowed his brows. “I’m absolutely sincere about my invitation. I would never mess around like that—or lie to you.”

  She shook her head. “Why would you want me to go with you—for an unspecified chunk of the future?’’

  He hugged her again. “Oh, Gwyn, how can you ask that after everything we’ve had together tonight? Don’t you know me at least a little bit?”

  She wriggled away from him. “Come on. Let’s face it. I’m nobody—and you’re a rich big shot. Named to a magazine’s list of the top fifty bachelors of all time. Heck, on everyone’s A-list.”

  “Come on. You believe all that stuff?” he growled.

  “Well, yeah. And don’t tell me it’s not true, at least some of it.”

  He sighed. “Any part of it that’s true is way overrated.”

  “Easy for you to say. But from where I’m sitting, it all looks pretty damn good—and it doesn’t look like it has any connection to my life.” She moved away from him and got out of the bed.

  He followed her. “Come back, Gwyn. Really, let’s talk.”

  She sat back on the bed and perched at the edge with the top sheet drawn around her, now too aware of her nudity. She realized she had nothing to put on but the ridiculous Tinkerbell costume—or one of Dominic’s get-ups. Heck, even the Tinkerbell costume didn’t really belong to her. She pulled the silky top sheet tighter around her, but still felt totally exposed to him.

  He sat next to her. “What can I do to convince you to hear me out?” he asked softly, for once keeping his hands to himself.

  “I need some clothes,” she said. “Real life clothes. Not a fantasy costume from one of your cabinets.”

  “Very well.” He crossed to a built-in closet. She kept her eyes averted from his butt, which almost seemed to glow like a beacon in the darkened room. He opened the door and started rummaging. “I don’t have much in the real clothes department that would fit you real well,” he said. “Do you want to try some sweatpants and a T-shirt? They’ll probably be far too big, but will work better than most anything else I can think of.”

  Those would work, she thought. Nobody could have a fantasy where she’d be wearing floppy sweatpants and a T-shirt. He handed her blue fleecy pants and a Fantasia Resorts in the Isla del Oro shirt. He was certainly right—the clothes were way too big. That was fine. She could roll up the pants legs and let the shirt hang. She felt a little self-conscious dressing in front of him, which was nuts. But she wasn’t feeling particularly rational at this moment.

  Once she had the clothes on, she sat back down on the bed. “Would you prefer it if I dress too?” he asked.

  She could have feasted her eyes on him for days, but realized she could deal with him in a much more appropriate, adult way if he covered his bod. “Please.”

  He slipped into another pair of sweats, then sat next to her on the bed again—not touching, but close. “Gwyn,” he said, “I don’t want to take back what I said—which I mean as a very sincere invitation.”

  “Come on, Dominic. Let’s say I did go off with you. Just left my job and house hanging in the wind. First of all, I care about the people I work with and rent from. But that’s not your problem. Main thing is, what will happen when you get tired of me? Which I’m sure will happen real fast. Either you’ll get bored, or you’ll meet some A-list bachelorette, and I’ll be instant history. You’ll dump me off on some island in the Caribbean—or worse. I’ll be broke, abandoned, and would have burned my bridges as far my job and house go. Can’t say any of that is a particularly appealing prospect.”

  His eyes had grown very dark, nearly black. She thought he looked angry. “You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”

  She shrugged. “I’m sure my opinion of you is pretty distorted right now, and I can’t let that sway my thinking. I’m a realist. I know that’s hard to believe after tonight, which feels like a fairy tale. But I have to ground my life in the real world, not let a random fantasy derail me. And you are not concerned about my life in the long run. All you want is someone for fun and games—’til you’re ready for the next someone. No thank you.” She got up and, being careful not to trip over her rolled up pants legs, began to pace.

  He put his head in his hands. “Would it help if I told you that you mean far more to me than just a one-night stand or a short-time playmate?”

  She waved her hands dismissively. “Well, you certainly have good manners. I’ll give you that. But people like you have no idea what the lives of ordinary people like me are. Can’t hold it against you. But trust me on this. You and I inhabit totally different universes. And never the twain will meet. Except for a night here and there, like this one was. But once I go home in the morning, this will all be just a memory. A beautiful memory, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  He lounged back on the bed. “So you think my life has always been like this?” he asked, indicating all the luxuries around them. “That I grew up with money and privilege and women throwing themselves at me?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  He shook his head. “Gwyn, I’m living the life I dreamed of when I was in high school and at university. ‘Til just a few years ago, I was the typical nerd—great grades, too skinny and shy to have a social life. Dad was a clerk in a bank, Mum a home
maker. I have eight younger brothers and sisters, and we grew up in a small house in northern England. You do the arithmetic. My parents did their best, but luxury was not part of our lives.” He got up and began to pace, careful to stay out of her way.

  “Not only was I skinny and unathletic,” he continued, “but I turned out to be good in math and science. Got great grades. Talk about a recipe for spending a lot of time alone. Which gave me loads of time to read. That’s how I first learned about fantasies and different ways to fulfill them.

  “With my academic skills, I got a great job just out of university. In those days, the computer business was hot. I was lucky. Got stock options, made great investments. I worked hard because I had nothing else to do. And soon I was on my way. During all those lonely years, I dreamed about making fantasies come true. Which is the idea behind all my businesses.”

  His story took her breath away. The way Dominic looked and acted, Gwyn had been positive he’d been groomed for success by a family with a long history of money and privilege. Hearing the truth complicated her thought processes. He wasn’t just some fly-by-night playboy used to indulging himself in whatever he wanted. It had to have taken lots of guts and will to get to where he was. He was, after all, only a few years older than she was—and close to Pete’s age.

  “Dominic, thank you for telling me all this,” she said, sitting down in his armchair. “I admire you tremendously for your accomplishments.”

  He continued pacing. “Thanks for admiring me. But does what I’ve told you change anything? Will you go with me?”

  She shook her head sadly. Knowing about his background made him seem even more appealing than before, but that didn’t alter the situation. “Now that you are so rich and successful, I’m afraid you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be an ordinary person. You know, one who needs her job and spends most of her salary on a little house she thanks her stars to have found.”

  “Tell me about your work,” he said, sitting down on the bed.