“Hmmm, delicious,” he said. He latched onto her point and suckled her.
“Oh…yes…” she said.
He sucked harder.
She dropped her head back and thrust her breast more firmly into his mouth. “Harder,” she gasped.
The tug of him on her nipple reverberated straight to her clitoris. He repeated it on her other breast, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding on harder. She…had…never…. It…had…never…felt so good to have her nipples sucked.
He withdrew his mouth and stood, easing her a few steps back from him. She heard the unmistakable sound and felt the brush of his knuckles against her bush as he unzipped his pants. He rubbed the length of his cock along her wet slit, teasing his head against her nubbin. Desperate to have him inside her, Arden tried to wrap her leg around his hip.
“Not yet,” he said. “Get on your knees. You’ll eat yourself off of me first.”
She was dripping wet. She sank to her knees, onto the plush carpet. His genitals smelled of his arousal, and particularly her musk.
Arden licked his long, thick velvety cock as if he was an ice cream. She took him in her mouth and sucked as much of the length of him as she could, taking care not to scrape him with her teeth. She reached around him and grasped his ass cheeks, even though he was still clothed, and she fucked him with her mouth, tugging him hard and deeper into her mouth with her hands on his buttocks.
He tried to pull away from her and she held on to him, burying his dick down her throat. He fisted one hand in her hair and pulled her off of him. She liked the tug of his hand in her hair.
“I’m in charge,” he said. He pulled at her hair again. “Do you understand?”
She nodded. Something long-buried and unacknowledged rose within her. His dominance…his taking charge…telling her what to do…the slight pain of him pulling her hair…it all turned her on incredibly.
“Spank me. Please.” She spoke so low, so softly and tentatively, she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her.
“Have you ever been spanked before?”
“No. Will you? Please?”
She didn’t want to be beaten. She wasn’t interested in full-blown S&M. She didn’t want a ball-gag or to be leashed or have to lick his feet or any of the totally subservient things she’d read, but she wanted to try this—a little spanking. She’d wanted to try this for a long time and had always been too shy to ask and hadn’t met any men who seemed as if they might be open to it.
He slapped her on the buttocks. Not too hard, but it wasn’t lightly either. She quivered. She had never, ever been so turned on in her life as she was by the cool air against her wet vagina and the sting of his palm against her butt cheeks.
“Do you want more?”
She bowed her head, rather embarrassed that it turned her on so. And she couldn’t have explained to anyone—the fact that if a man struck her during an argument or under any other circumstances, she would be madder than hell and not stand for it for a second. But here…now…she’d asked and he’d accommodated and she liked it.
He slapped her again. Her pussy pulsed at the contact.
“Lie down on the bed and spread your legs. Let me see how much you like that.”
She did as he instructed. Her thighs were wet. She heard the squelch of her own juices as she opened herself to his gaze.
“You do like it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What about this?”
She didn’t know what she expected but his smart slap across her open cunt surprised her…and she liked it even more than she did on her ass. She immediately thrust her hips up in the air and whispered, “Yes, oh yes.”
“Do you need to be spanked? Really spanked?”
She spoke very softly. “I think so.”
“Get on your hands and knees.”
She did, her heart thumping in her chest.
“Down some…on your elbows…spread your legs…shove your ass in the air…show me your pussy.”
She followed his instructions and waited, the air cool against her open nether lips. He smacked her ass, and she winced and wiggled with pleasure at the sting. “More?”
“Yes.”
He slapped her ass again, and she wiggled her cheeks at the stinging pleasure. And then he slapped her again, but this was on her open pussy and her exposed clit. She gasped at the intensity. “Too hard?”
“No. Just right.”
Arden didn’t think she’d ever been so aroused in her life…the anonymity, the blindfold, the light spanking. They “played” for a bit more, and Arden felt as if she were a spring twisted almost to the point of no return. She was nearly mindless with need and arousal.
Without warning he took her hips in his hands and thrust into her from behind. She cried out. It was sublime. Again and again and harder and faster until she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, and she would either shatter or pass out from a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. It felt as if she were shattering into a million shards of herself. She was vaguely aware of his cry echoing her own.
She collapsed onto the bed, splayed on her stomach. He stretched out beside her.
Their breaths came in great heaving gasps. She was limp, boneless complements of that orgasm. She’d never…nothing….
“Next week, same time.”
“No—”
“Yes.” Without warning he slapped her ass. Despite her recent bone-stealing orgasm, she quivered with arousal. “It’s part of the uncertainty. You don’t know when it’s going to end.”
The cotton sheet was soft beneath her skin. “But it was distracting this week.”
He slid his finger along her well-fucked slit and teased it against her sensitive clit. She bucked on the bed. “You know you liked it.”
“But—”
He rolled her over, cutting off her objection. He casually played between her thighs, stroking her nether lips, tweaking and tugging at her swollen folds. She was spent and a little sore, but it felt so good. She fisted the sheet in her hands and squirmed.
“But nothing,” he said. “You’ll be here the same time next week. I’ll send your instructions.” He leaned down and pressed a long, hard kiss to her mouth, dominating her with his tongue. He began to finger fuck her, and she writhed with need. How could she want him again when she’d just had him? But she did.
Without warning he withdrew from her—lips, tongue, finger, everything—leaving her hanging, pulsing with need.
“I’m leaving now. Wait until you hear the door close. You can stay then or leave. The room’s paid for another half hour.”
He couldn’t just leave her like this. “But we could—”
“No. You want it. You’ll wait for it. And you’ll come back for it.”
That she could guarantee.
* * *
Georgina watched the dark-haired man stride from the elevators through the front door…the guest in room 101.
Celeste, at the other end of the counter, watched as well. “Have you noticed he always arrives after she does and leaves before she does?”
“Well, if by always, you mean this time and last time since they’ve only been here twice, then yes.”
Although all the staff went out of their way to “look the other way” as if they didn’t pay attention, they all found the guests and their comings and goings infinitely interesting. One day it might be old hat to Georgina, but for now she still found it intriguing.
All of the staff speculated, not within owner and proprietress Ginger Carmichael’s hearing, of course, as to what was going on behind each of those closed doors. They knew how to be discreet, but it didn’t mean they didn’t gossip amongst themselves.
“Uh-huh,” Celeste said. “And today’s staging involved a blindfold.”
Celeste, though younger than Georgina, had a worldliness about her which Georgina envied. Perhaps it was her theatre background or the fact that her parents were French or maybe even that she wore her naturally blonde
hair in a pageboy fashion—whatever it was Celeste wore it all well. She was one of the “stagers” who made sure that the rooms were set up to the guest’s specifications. If someone had a medical fetish, Celeste made sure the room was set up complete with an exam table and exam equipment. Another guest required a pink latex dildo? Celeste made sure it was there prior to check-in. The dildo was, of course, added into the price of the room and theirs to take with them when they left.
“You think a game of no-peeking?” Georgina said, fronting a sophistication she’d been faking since she’d been hired. There was no small measure of irony in her working at a hotel that catered to sexual assignations and indulgences when she’d only ever had sex with one man, her husband. Georgina had never even kissed another man. And that was nobody’s business but her own.
Kennedy strolled up on his way to the break room.
“Hey, Kennedy,” Celeste said. She returned to her and Georgina’s conversation. “You ever do that?”
“Nope.” Most of the stuff that went on at Eleven had never been a part of many of their sex lives. It was certainly an education in lots of ways. And it certainly gave her a list of things she’d like to try one day.
With no guests around, Kennedy leaned against the marble counter, a sly smile lurking in his dark brown eyes and tugging at his well-shaped lips. “And what is it you haven’t done before?”
“Nunya,” Georgina said, suddenly very self-conscious of discussing what she had or hadn’t done sexually in front of this man.
Not that her reticence and avoidance mattered a damn because Celeste chimed right in with, “Blindfolded.”
Georgina couldn’t imagine why it felt as if it mattered. They’d all had these discussions as to what was and wasn’t done behind the closed doors at Eleven. Celeste chatted freely and easily about her sexual experiences. Georgina did a lot of listening. But it was as if everything had shifted just a few degrees off center when she showed up at that club…well, actually when she told Kennedy she was separated.
“I see,” he said which struck Celeste and Georgina as incredibly funny as they were discussing being blindfolded which precluded seeing. They were, however, discreet. Ginger would have their heads otherwise.
“No,” Celeste said, “the point is to not see.”
They all quieted and pretended to be very busy as the elevator dinged. The woman from room 101 stepped out. She appeared rather dazed, but relaxed, as she crossed to the front doors. She didn’t even glance their way.
“Must’ve been good,” Celeste said. “Speaking of, I actually had a date last night.”
Kennedy cocked one eyebrow in inquiry. “Oh? And it was good?”
“No, it sucked.”
Kennedy laughed. Celeste eyed Georgina, “You are so lucky you don’t have to worry about the dating scene.” Her iPad alarm went off and she silenced it. “Gotta go set up for yet another lurid assignation.”
“See you later,” Georgina said as Celeste headed down the back hall. Didn’t Kennedy have places to go, things to do other than just hang out here at the front desk, which was frowned upon anyway?
Kennedy, however, didn’t budge from his spot by the counter. He sobered as Celeste disappeared into the stockroom. “You going to tell her?”
Georgina shrugged. “Probably. I just don’t want to make an issue of it.”
“I thought women loved to talk about all of that stuff.”
Georgina paused and considered. That could go one of two ways—she could get all bent out of shape, or she could just find it funny. Actually Kennedy’s assessment of women was funny…and fairly accurate. Nonetheless, she wrinkled her nose at him. “Then I guess you thought wrong.”
“I guess I did. So, make it up to me by going to dinner with me tonight.”
“Make it up to you…?” She laughed when she realized he was being outrageous. “No, dinner isn’t a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We work together.”
He shook his head as if clearing it of confusing thoughts. “I’m sure I invited you to dinner. I’m certain I didn’t say, hey Gina, come home with me and let me blindfold you and have my evil black mambo snake way with you. So, how about dinner? Just dinner. We both have to eat.”
She wanted to kill him because…well…now how could she not think about being blindfolded and having sex with him after he said that? “I don’t think so.”
“What time?”
“I just said—”
“Seven-thirty?”
She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh at his outrageous railroading or smack him up side his head. “You aren’t listening.”
“Sure I am. You said you’d love to have dinner at seven-thirty tonight.”
“Kennedy…”
“Okay, give me your address one more time.”
She gave up. Quite honestly, she wanted to go. She relayed her address.
“What about Celeste?” Georgina said, suddenly feeling desperate at the thought of just her and him going to dinner. “Let’s see if she wants to go. She likes going out.”
“No.”
Once again, Georgina didn’t quite know what to make of Kennedy, so she made nothing. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”
“Any ideas for dinner?” she said.
“Oh, you wanted to have dinner?”
It wasn’t until he dropped a wink her way that she realized he was teasing her. Unfortunately, she had no problem recalling the other things he’d proposed.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Just so you know, I’m still pissed,” Janice announced as she dropped into the seat opposite Arden. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”
The tapas bar and restaurant was in full swing, even on a Thursday evening. It was a little too busy and too noisy for Arden, but it was one of Janice’s favorites. Arden had suggested it as a peace offering. She’d lucked up and snagged a small table. A pitcher of sangria and two of the evening specials were already on their way.
“It’s a good thing you love me,” Arden said. Janice hadn’t taken Arden’s lack of tell-all real well. The getting-over business was taking a little longer than Arden had anticipated. “You know, there have to be limits to kissing and telling.”
Janice cast a baleful glance her way. “If I can’t live vicariously, then what’s in it for me?”
“I suppose altruism is dead?”
“Fucking right. Details, sister, or I’m cutting you off.”
Arden paused and considered—Janice could kind of screw this up if she wanted to. All she had to do was tell him that Arden had decided she didn’t want to play anymore and how would he know it wasn’t true? And Arden did want to play—she wanted very much to play. She knew, however, that Janice wouldn’t do that if she was having fun in her liaison role.
Now that all was said and done, Arden decided divulging the gift would be fine. “Okay. Dammit. It was a tie.”
The food and drink arrived. “A tie?” Janice took the glass the waitress had filled from the pitcher. “What kind of tie?”
Arden wrapped her fingers around the stem of the other glass. “A tie. A man’s tie.”
“Honest to God, you’re losing your mind, or at least your ability to rationalize. You couldn’t tell me it was a tie? And what’s up with him sending a tie, for God’s sake? I expected much better than a tie. That’s lame.”
Janice’s reaction was exactly what Arden had thought it would be. After fifteen years, she knew Janice pretty well. “See…that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d say something like that.”
“Well, excuse me for being honest and having higher gift standards than a damn tie. But never mind that. Let’s get on with it. Okay…so, what’d you do with—”
Arden pushed around an olive mixture on her plate. “Uh-uh. No. Not going there.” Arden worked her lip with her teeth and finally asked what she’d been dying to ask. “So, uh, what’d he say?”
“Nothing.” E
xasperation dripped from the one word. “I swear, the two of you…”
“Good.” It was one thing for her to discuss it with her girlfriends, and if he had something to say to his guy friends—well, she supposed men talked as much and as frankly as women—but she was incredibly relieved he wasn’t sharing their escapades at the water cooler with Janice.
A prickle danced across her skin and for a moment she could swear she smelled him, that unmistakable blend of his cologne with his body chemistry. Her pulse raced, her body quickened, her crotch was wet within an instant. She almost turned around, but for what? Because some man had walked by who had the same aftershave? The mind played powerful tricks.
A peculiar look washed over Janice’s face. “You know, Arden, well…you know what this is…you know it’s just a game.”
“Of course I do.” Her stomach knotted a bit but she kept a smile on her face. She even managed to roll her eyes. “I know what this is. It’s just a good time.”
Relief washed over Janice’s face. “So, was this it? The final big bang?”
“Well…no…not yet.”
“Look,” Janice braced her forearms on the table and leaned in. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Arden’s stomach clenched. “Is there something about him I need to know? Jesus – he’s married, isn’t he?”
Janice gave her a hard look. “Of course he’s not married. I would’ve never set you up with…him,” Arden knew Janice had almost slipped up and let his name slip. “It’s just, once was one thing, even twice, but….”
“Make up your mind.” Arden was both relieved and exasperated. “You were giving me a hard time last week because I didn’t want to meet him again and now you’re giving me grief because I did and will again. Make up your mind, Janice.”
“He was here.”
What…he…she hadn’t…. Heat flashed through her in a total-body flush. It hadn’t been her mind playing tricks. “He was here? It was just now, just a minute or so ago, wasn’t it?”
Janice nodded, her eyes serious.
“Is he still here?” Arden quelled the urge to look around. Instinct screamed look, but once she saw, the game was done, wasn’t it?
BY THE HOUR, ATLANTA, Book 1 Page 4