Gloria's Secret

by Nelle L'Amour

  He slid back into his chair and scooted it up to the table. His clean, fresh scent mixed with the mouthwatering aroma of the food.

  “Eat!” he ordered.

  “What about you?” I asked after placing my napkin on my lap.

  “My dish has to simmer. Besides, I want to watch you eat. I’ll enjoy it.”

  Anxiously, I cut into the tender steak and put a forkful of pink meat to my mouth.

  His eyes never left me. “Ah, you cut your meat and eat the European way,” he mused. “I find that very sexy.”

  I choked. Madame Paulette had taught me this way of eating. It was one of her many life lessons. “Eating like a European will give you class and mystery,” she had told me.

  “Swallow!” he ordered.

  Nervously, as he watched, I gulped down the first morsel of the meat. Getting it past the big lump in my throat wasn’t easy.

  I continued to eat my dinner under his intense, watchful gaze. As delicious as the meal was, I was losing my appetite with each bite. In fact, my gut was cramping, and a tingling between my legs was distracting me. Why did he affect me this way?

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.

  A saucy smile curled on his lips. “I’m getting rather hungry and think my meal might be nicely heated up now.” Slowly, he lifted the silver dome covering his entrée.

  My eyes practically popped out of their sockets. Artfully displayed on the platter were Rihanna’s diamond-studded brassiere and thong.

  “Gloria, are you done with your dinner?”

  Speechless, I just nodded. I couldn’t eat a bite more even if I tried.

  “Good. Then stand up.”

  As if under a hypnotic spell, I did as he asked.

  He rose to his feet and came around the dining cart. In one swift, smooth move, he swept down the back zipper of my dress, swooped it over my head, and tossed it to the floor.

  Quivering, I stood semi-naked in front of him, clad only in my lacy gray lingerie and silk stockings. And my heels.

  His lustful eyes roved up and down my body. I suddenly became very conscious of the scar above my heart that peeked out from my bra, but to my relief, he ignored it.

  “I like the way you match your undergarments to what you’re wearing.”

  Madame Paulette had ingrained that in me. In a state of semi-shock, I mumbled a throwaway thanks.

  He continued to study me. “You have such a sexy body. Custom-made for your lingerie line. But it’s such a shame you don’t enjoy what you sell. Let me show you how.”

  My body, indeed curvaceous, was a trembling mess. Words stayed trapped in my throat while I tried to steady myself on my feet.

  “Relax, Gloria. Trust me.” He shoved the dining cart out of the way. There was nothing standing between the two of us except a storm of electricity.

  He squatted halfway to the floor and clutched my thighs with his warm, manly hands. With his, he snapped opened each garter. I stood motionless as he slid my silk stockings down my long legs. His hands brushed against my skin, sending goose bumps all over me. I anchored my palms on his broad shoulders as he removed my shoes and stockings. The garter and my skimpy lace bikinis were the next to hit the floor. He slipped the shoes back on my feet and then stood up and removed my bra. My scar in full view, my body didn’t move a muscle. A contemplative smile spread across his face as he gazed at me.

  “Ah, Gloria, you are so, so, beautiful.” He reached for the diamond-studded undergarments and handed them to me. Please put these on.”

  What?

  “Don’ t worry. I had them thoroughly cleaned. They’re like brand new.”

  It wasn’t Rihanna’s crotch I was worried about. It was mine. I was on fire.

  “Put the thong on first. I want to stare at those exquisite tits for as long as I can.”

  My nerves on edge, I bent over and slipped each high-heeled foot into the leg openings of the thong and then pulled it up until the patch of diamonds covered my patch of gold. The diamonds formed a heart—the iconic signature of Gloria’s Secret. All our merchandise bore the insignia heart somewhere. There was even a heart instead of a dot over the “i” in the Gloria’s Secret logo.

  He examined me. His eyes seared my flesh.

  I felt light-headed. The heat of his gaze mixed with the warmth of the buttery leather. He was making me melt. Hot juices gathered between my thighs.

  He smiled. “Perfection. Now, the bra.”

  With jittery fingers, I put the back-closing bra on backward and fumbled with the clasp. After hooking it, I twisted the bra around, slipped my arms into the straps, and plumped my milky-white globes into the push-up cups. Hearts of diamonds surrounded my erect nipples.

  Jaime gazed at me reverently. “You look more beautiful in these works of art than I ever imagined.”

  My brows rose to my forehead. “You bought them for me?” I asked, finding my voice.

  He let out a light, sexy laugh. “No, I bought them for me to look at on you.”

  Semantics. A chill ran down my spine in anticipation of what was next.

  “Turn around.”

  I pivoted on my heels and could feel his eyes on my very exposed ass.

  “Beautiful. Now come over here. I think my dinner is ready.”

  Hesitantly, I stepped into him. In my stilettos, we were eye to eye. Chest to chest. Organ to organ.

  His eyes bore into mine. “You’re so fucking edible. I bet you’re going to taste so good.”

  Edible…Taste?

  In one smooth move, he yanked down the thong to my ankles and dropped to his knees. He gazed up at me with his hungry eyes.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered.

  They just shifted apart as though I was contractually obliged. In a breath, my buttock cheeks were cupped in his hands, and his mouth was buried in my pussy, sucking and nibbling at my tender flesh.

  Why the hell am I letting him do this? What’s the matter with me?

  “You’re so fucking delicious,” he moaned. “And so moist.”

  His hot, velvety tongue swept across the folds of my cleft. “Mmmm. And so sweet.” Stroking and licking, he was clearly enjoying his dinner.

  I had the answer to my questions. I was enjoying it too. Okay. That was an understatement. I was in a state of rapture. The movements of his aerobic tongue were sending a heat wave through my body. I squeezed my eyes and stifled the moans that were begging to be released. It took all the willpower I could muster not to squirm. Control yourself, Gloria!

  And then his tongue stayed in one place—my clit. He alternately flicked it with the tip and rolled circles around it. My body quivered as overwhelming pleasure flooded my brain. I bit down on my lip to quell the sounds clogging my throat.

  Still working my nub furiously, he shoved his fingers into my hole. I jolted. There must have been two of them inside, judging by the fullness. They felt divine! He slid them up and down my passage, bringing a new level of erotic pleasure to my being. All the while, his tongue stayed focused on my clit.

  Control was no longer an option. I was totally losing it. Whimpers escaped my throat; sweat escaped my pores. Writhing against him in my stilettos, I clung to his shoulders for support as the insufferable throbbing between my legs threatened to undo me. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I could hold on any longer. He was driving me to the point of no return. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

  “Fall apart for me now, Gloria.” As he breathed my name, I exploded on command with a ragged scream. Shudders deep inside me competed with the wet bundle of shuddering nerves between my legs. I thought I might pass out.

  He gripped my hips to steady me and then flicked my clit one last time, sending yet another orgasm to my sex. Oh, what this man could do to me!

  He finally pulled away and gazed up at me. With sexy half-moon eyes, he lifted the three, yes three, deft fingers that had been inside me to his lush mouth and sucked them. He lowered them and licked his lips.

  “Ah Gloria, you are like fine
caviar. I hope you enjoyed your dinner as much as I enjoyed mine. Would you like dessert?” he asked before pulling up the diamond-studded thong and rising to his feet.

  I didn’t think I could handle dessert, whatever that was. When I glimpsed the bulge, now bigger, beneath his sweats, I had an idea. “I’ll pass,” I said breathlessly.

  “Oh, do you feel sated?” I could tell his eyes were hungering for more.

  “Yes,” I stammered. Very. “I need to go to sleep.” Shaking, I collected my clothes that were strewn on the floor.

  He smirked at me. “My brassiere and thong, please.”

  “Right.” Before I could get make a move, he one-handedly unhooked the bra and slipped it off. Scrunching it in his hand, he pulled down the diamond-studded thong with the other. I held on to his broad shoulder for balance as I stepped out of it. Embarrassment seeped through me. The crotch was now drenched.

  He bent over, retrieved his prize and, to my shock, put the soaking wet undergarment to his nose. He inhaled deeply. “I don’t think I’m going to wash these.”

  I donned my dress, not bothering to put my underwear back on. I swept the lacy pieces up in my hands; he didn’t need more souvenirs.

  “Thanks for dinner.” I rushed the words and pivoted toward the door. My body was still throbbing from my head to my toes.

  He tugged my braid hard, holding me back. I spun around to face him “Let go of me.”

  Gripping my braid, he roped me in closer to him. So close, his breath heated my cheeks. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “I have a busy day. Store visits. Our Fifth Avenue store is our largest. I’ll be there all afternoon.”

  “Ah, Gloria. All work, no play. I’m going to change that.” He did the hair thing again—coiling my braid around his hand. “The hotel has a splendid pool on the top floor. Meet me there at six a.m. when it opens. No one will be there except us. We’ll have it all for ourselves…have a little fun and get in some exercise… maybe burn off this meal.”

  He let me go. As my weak legs carried me to the door, he breathily said, “Don’t be late.”

  “I never am.” I didn’t turn back to look at him but knew his glimmering eyes were lingering on me, his smile cocky from his little victory.

  As I limped down the hallway to my suite, he called out to me. “Hey, Gloria. Happy Valentine’s Day.

  A smile that he couldn’t see curled on my lips. Confession: It was the best Valentine’s Day I’d ever had.

  Chapter 8

  I thought for sure that I would meet him at the elevator, but he wasn’t there. I was wearing the plush white terry-cloth robe that came with the room over a Gloria’s Secret bright red bandeau bathing suit; it was cut in a way that made my long legs look even longer. I had also packed a bikini but decided on the one-piece because it was more comfortable and enabled me to swim fast without any worry of it falling off. Besides, no bikini could compete with the diamond-studded underwear I’d worn last night. Unable to force that memory away, I pressed the elevator button and, when the doors slid open, headed up to the pool. I stared down at sparkly flip-flops on my feet—one of our bestsellers last summer—trying impossibly hard not to concentrate on the throbbing that lingered between my thighs.

  To my surprise, he was already doing laps up and down the Olympic-size pool when I showed up. His form was beautiful…long elegant strokes with his brawny arms and long tapered fingers and powerful kicks that spliced the water with little splashes. Upon catching sight of me on a breath, he finished his lap and lifted himself out of the pool. Dripping wet, his soaked hair slicked back, he broke into that dazzling smile. “Good morning, Gloria. I’m looking forward to our swim together and to seeing you all wet.”

  My heart skipped a beat. This was the first time I’d seen him without his clothes on—well, almost without his clothes on. He was wearing one of those latex Speedos made for racing that exposed a body that could belong to an Olympic champion. His shoulders were broad; his chest chiseled, his arms sculpted, and his legs long and muscular. For sure, a body of steel. A fine layer of dark hair coated his limbs and, descended from his amazing pecs to the most fabulous V-section I’d ever seen on a man. The package between his toned thighs was sizeable—actually, make that, monstrous—and sent shudders through me. The throbbing between my legs intensified; I could actually hear the thrumming like a heartbeat.

  “C’mon, I’ll race you for dinner. The winner of two out of three laps gets to pick a restaurant; the loser gets to pay.”

  “What makes you think I want to have dinner with you, Mr. Zander?”

  “Ms. Long, after last night, there’s no doubt in my mind.”

  I bit my lower lip. Tongue-tied, I managed one word: “Fine.”

  I shrugged off my robe. Jaime’s sparkling denim blue eyes ran down my body. “You are simply magnificent. A feast for the eyes. Maybe the winner’s prize should be ripping off the other’s bathing suit.”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Forget it. A deal is a deal. Come on, let’s race.”

  I was looking forward to the challenge. He had no idea who he was dealing with. Having lived in Brighton Beach, I had become a masterful swimmer thanks to the nearby ocean and large community pool. My long lean muscles and broad square shoulders reflected my passion. I still swam regularly in the heated pool at my condo complex. Ha! Little did he know, I was extremely competitive.

  We lined up side by side at the edge of the pool’s deep end. His slick wet body deliberately brushed against mine, sending a chill up my spine. We wished each other good luck.

  “Okay, on your mark, get set, go!” I called out and with that, we both dove into the water.

  To my relief, the pool was heated. I wasted no time propelling myself ahead, stroking and kicking furiously. Damn it! Mr. Challenge was keeping up with me, even at the halfway mark. When I got to the other end a mere second before him, I quickly did a flip turn and headed back to where we had begun. On a breath, I stole a glance backward. Ha! My competitor was losing steam and was now several lengths behind me. Picking up speed, I raced ahead and reached the starting point way before he did. Breathing hard, I popped up from the water and, with a triumphant smile, watched him struggle to meet me. “Fuck!” he cursed under his labored breath.

  “I’m thinking of a very expensive restaurant,” I taunted and flipped back my heavy wet braid.

  “I am, too,” he said, catching his breath.

  I dwelled on his glistening face. God, he was beautiful, his lush lips moist and his eyes, two glimmering blue pools with crowns of thick lashes. My heart thudded, an unstoppable reaction to the sight of the god-like man beside me and the challenge that faced me. Ha! He was no match for me. One more race and it would be over for sure. This time he said “on your mark,” and we took off. I reached the other end way before he did and turned around quickly. I could taste victory. About a third of the way back, I noticed that he was picking up speed. My limbs and lungs burning, I surged ahead. Three breaths later, he passed me; I gaped when I glimpsed his cocky smile. He was beating me to the finish line by several yards. An amused glint flickered in his eyes when I finally reached our starting point. I was panting. He wasn’t even breathless. What the fuck? Had he possibly let me win the first race? Faked all that heavy breathing? I was fuming.

  “Are you still thinking about a very expensive restaurant?” he asked with playful sarcasm.

  I scowled. “Yes!”

  He tugged at my thick wet braid. “You’re cute when do that little frown thing between your brows.”

  I was seething. Simply seething. “Cute” was the last thing I was.

  The third and final race. The race that would determine who was taking whom to dinner. I mentally psyched myself up for it. Come on, Gloria, show him!

  “Good luck, Gloria. May the best man win.”

  “Or woman,” I scoffed.

  He winked at me as we zoomed off.

  I was off to a strong start. Just focus on the race. I forced myself
not to take any breaths—a means of keeping him out of my field of vision and not letting him distract me. Kicking and stroking at torpedo speed, I flipped around at the other end and finally came up for a much-needed gulp of air. To my horror, there he was…several lengths ahead of me. Calling upon every muscle in my body, I caught up to him only for him to swim ahead of me one more time. He shot me a cocky smile on a breath as he passed me by. Damn him! I couldn’t let him win! Furiously, I propelled myself forward, stroking and kicking harder than I’d ever had. We were neck to neck. Breath to breath. Splash to splash. Every muscle in my body stung as I took my last stroke. My head shot out of the water. Clinging to the edge of the pool, I was panting like a dog. I couldn’t catch my breath. My waterlogged eyes fluttered. He was in my face. At the finish before me.

  “Get over here, you,” he rasped. Breathing heavy, he took me in his powerful arms and drew me against him. I was too exhausted to resist. My heart pounded against his; I hadn’t been this close to someone else’s heartbeat in years. Before I could say a word, he tilted back my head by the tail of my braid and crushed his mouth upon mine. The warmth of his breath heated mine. His kiss was passionate and fierce. I was panting into his mouth. Once again, I was losing control to this outrageous man. I don’t know why but I just let him do it. Even deepen the kiss as his tongue parted my lips. Inside my mouth, it did a synchronized swim with mine. Swirling and twirling. It was as if we had practiced these moves for years. He broke away, leaving me breathless for more.

  “Wrap your legs and arms around me and just relax.”

  Without questioning myself, I complied, folding my limbs around his broad shoulders and bum of steel. The buoyancy of the water helped hold me up.

  His glistening wet skin brushed against mine. I longed for his mouth. He read my mind. “Ms. Long, you obviously need to be kissed. And kissed often by a man who knows how.”

  In a heartbeat, he consumed my mouth again, sending carnal waves of desire to my core. I could feel his erection digging into me as I squeezed my legs around him. My hand fisted his slick wet hair. He moaned and I moaned back.