Too Hot to Print

by Stephanie Bond

  She was, in a word, ready.

  Ready to be taken advantage of.

  The elevator doors slid open to a small foyer leading up to the only door. Gabrielle swallowed hard and lifted her hand to knock. But before she could, the door swung open to reveal Henry Wells standing there in black slacks and a collarless black shirt. He was so big and handsome and sexy that it stole her breath…and his smile nearly did her in.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Hello,” she said on a sigh.

  “Please, come in.” He stood back and allowed her to walk into the room.

  Gabrielle gasped. “It’s amazing.”

  The suite was larger than her townhome, and more richly appointed, with a sunken seating area of low, overstuffed couches and various chairs upholstered in rich fabrics. The rugs were plush and welcoming, the accessories luxurious. A tall row of pale green bamboo shoots rose up from a rock garden in the middle of the room. From hidden speakers came the chiming notes of soothing music from the Orient.

  On the upper level, an enormous bed reigned over an entire corner, dressed in gray and white linens, facing an expanse of windows that offered a spectacular view of the twinkling Atlanta skyline. Next to the bed sat a masseuse’s table, draped with bright white towels. Gabrielle’s midsection tingled and she quickly averted her gaze down to the dining table that was laden with dome-lid trays.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Henry said, leading the way down the short set of steps toward the table. “I took the liberty of ordering room service in case you were hungry.” He lifted the lid of one tray to reveal a mound of artfully arranged fresh fruit.

  Gabrielle had opened her mouth to say she wasn’t hungry, but at the sight of the glistening, engorged fruit, she found herself saying, “Maybe just a strawberry…or two.”

  “Allow me,” Henry said, then lifted a perfect ruby-red strawberry by its stem and held it up to her mouth.

  She looked into his eyes and the warm passion she saw there loosened her inhibitions. She opened her mouth and took a bite of the juicy fruit, then drew it into her mouth and chewed slowly. They maintained eye contact throughout, and by the time she’d nibbled away the entire berry, blood rushed in her ears. Her tongue flicked out to catch a stray drop of juice and caught the tip of his finger. His lips parted and she sensed, rather than heard, his groan.

  She was seized with the compulsion to start ripping off clothes and satiate their carnal curiosity on the spot, but she realized he was holding back, and she appreciated his efforts to make the evening a truly romantic interlude.

  “Champagne?” he asked.

  She nodded, and accepted a flute of the frothy liquid.

  “Cheers,” he said, then clinked his glass with hers lightly. “To chance encounters.”

  Gabrielle smiled and drank deeply, marveling over the sheer coincidence of their meeting, and the instant chemistry.

  “There’s one thing I’d like to get out of the way,” Henry announced.

  She froze. Oh, God—he was married. He had children. He was going to ask her if a third person could join them. “What?” she squeaked.

  He took her champagne glass and set it down, along with his. “This,” he said, then stepped closer and pulled her into his arms.

  He lowered his mouth to hers in slow motion, then made contact with an intensity that stole her resistance. She leaned into him and all her lingering questions were answered. Her body fit his perfectly, tongue and groove. His kiss roused every dormant sensation that had gone fallow, and she needn’t have worried that she was out of practice because her body took over. She returned his kiss, tasting him thoroughly and selfishly stealing his breath when she needed air. Every nerve ending in her body came alive, like dominoes in a chain reaction. Pressed against his hardened body, her breasts bloomed and her sex throbbed.

  When he broke the kiss, she was gratified to see his eyes mirrored what she was feeling—surprise and anticipation. He pulled back and seemed to collect himself. They made small talk about the city while they grazed on the delicacies uncovered with the lifting of each domed lid on the table—fresh shrimp, caviar, oysters on the half shell. Gabrielle idly wondered what the suite and trappings cost the man, and nervously wondered if, after going to such elaborate preparations, she would meet his expectations.

  After a light sampling of the buffet and a second round of champagne, Henry took her empty glass, and set it aside. Then he kissed her palm, and began a slow exploration of her arm with his lips.

  She sighed and closed her eyes, almost giddy with the thought of what was to come. If the man could make her feel like this fully dressed, what kind of magic would he work unclothed?

  He nuzzled her shoulder, then murmured, “Did you bring the books?”

  Gabrielle’s eyes flew open. “Hm?”

  “The poetry books. Did you bring them?”

  “I did,” she said with a laugh. “Just in case you were serious about reading them. They’re contemporary translations of early Eastern verse, so they shouldn’t be hard to understand.”

  “Actually…I was hoping you would read to me.”

  She turned her head. “Read to you?”

  His tongue grazed her ear, sending shivers over her shoulders. “You have an amazing voice, and I can’t think of anything more provocative.”

  “O…kay,” she agreed. But apprehension plucked at her. For some reason, she felt more nervous about reading to the man than sleeping with him.

  “And while you’re reading to me,” he said, “I’d like to give you a massage.”

  At the thought of his large hands roaming her body with purpose, her nipples budded. “That sounds…nice.”

  “Good.” He turned her in his arms to face him. “I’m going to put on a robe. Why don’t you undress and lie down on the massage table? You can wrap up in a towel if you like.”

  Gabrielle nodded. He lowered a kiss on her mouth, then turned and climbed the steps to the upper level. He walked past the massive bed, lowered the lights a bit more with the slide of a switch, then disappeared into what she presumed was a bathroom.

  Left alone, she poured herself another glass of champagne and drank half of it in one gulp before climbing the steps and eyeing the masseuse’s table. Stepping into a curtained area next to the bed, she disrobed self-consciously, debating if she should leave on her underwear. Then she chastised herself—now wasn’t the time to be coy. They both knew why she’d come here tonight.

  The black panties and bra went over a valet stand along with her dress and hose.

  Chapter Six

  Gabrielle gave her nude reflection a quick once-over and decided that while she couldn’t compete with nubile twenty-somethings, her body was above average for her age.

  Besides, it would simply have to do.

  She retrieved the book of poetry, then climbed onto the masseuse’s table to lie face down and arranged a towel over her. The champagne, thank goodness, had gone to her head, giving her a pleasant, warm high that took the edge off her nerves. But despite the calming music that filled the room, her body tingled with anticipation. She wanted to freeze this moment, when all the erotic possibilities were yet to be realized.

  At the sound of the bathroom door opening, she turned her head to see Henry emerging in a knee-length black robe. The sight of his feet and muscular bare legs sent a jolt of awareness through her naked body—how long had it been since she’d seen a man in such intimate circumstances? Years…

  “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

  “Yes,” she murmured, even though under the towel, every muscle tensed with adrenaline.

  “More champagne?”

  “Not for me,” she said with a laugh.

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  He leaned down and gave her a painstaking kiss. There was something so amazingly sexy about being nearly naked and touching only on the mouth. When he pulled back, he uttered a little groan of frustration that was
reinforced by the bulge straining at the front of his robe. Gabrielle longed to reach out and stroke him, but he stepped back and withdrew a bottle of body oil from the pocket of his robe.

  “I’ll start with your feet if that’s okay.”

  “That’s fine,” she murmured, then held up the poetry book. “Shall I begin reading?” She needed something to do while he aroused her body with those amazing hands.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  Gabrielle was conscious of him moving to the foot of the table. The soft texture of his robe brushed her leg. She breathed deeply to calm her racing heart, then opened the book and scanned the first poem entitled I Know You. Was it appropriate? Too intimate?

  She was distracted by the click of the bottle of body oil being opened, and the sound of Henry rubbing his hands together to warm the lubricant. She dove into the poem.

  “This is called I Know You,” she said, then began to recite the verse.

  “I know you’re worried by that little thing you do with your hands.

  I know you’re happy by that little thing you do with your mouth.

  I know you’re sad by that little thing you do with your chin.”

  At the sudden sensation of his hands caressing her feet, she stopped with a sharp intake of breath. The exquisite pressure of his sliding fingers sent arrows of pleasure up her legs, straight to her sex. She moaned.

  “Keep going,” he urged. “I love hearing your voice.”

  She looked back to the page to find her place.

  “I know you’re angry by that little thing you do with your chin.

  I know you’re excited by that little thing you do with your tongue.

  I know you’re coming by that little thing you do with your breath.

  Lover, I know you.”

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “I could listen to you for hours.”

  Gabrielle paused and looked over her shoulder. Henry’s eyes were closed. He massaged her feet by touch alone. The sight of the big man paying such careful attention to her struck her hard—she could get used to this. She inhaled to fill her lungs with the scent of the fragrant body oil, then looked back to the book.

  “This one’s called The Magician,” she murmured.

  “You are a magician.

  One moment I am me, and

  then you appear and

  I change into another person, someone

  softer and keener,

  quicker and finer,

  brighter and freer,

  lighter and gladder.

  Better.”

  He had moved his ministrations from her feet to her lower legs, slowly and methodically caressing each inch of flesh. His touch was light, less of a rubdown, more of a tantric massage.

  And yet she was on fire. She moaned and flexed her legs to let him know she was enjoying his touch. He moved upward, trailing his fingers over the backs of her thighs. Almost involuntarily, her legs inched open. Beneath the towel, her sex was wet and welcoming.

  But after he brushed her inner thighs, he folded the towel down and moved to her lower back. Gabrielle tamped down frustration, telling herself to be patient. Henry couldn’t know how long it had been since a man had touched her.

  “You have an amazing body,” he whispered in her ear. “Does this feel good?”

  Basking in his compliment, she could only groan her response.

  He traced the indention of her spine and swirled his fingertips over her shoulders. “Can I take down your hair?”

  She nodded and held up her head while he removed the two combs that secured the French twist. He pushed his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp before leaving her heavy tresses in a tousled mess around her shoulders.

  Gabrielle reached up to clasp his hand. “Will you take off your robe?”

  In answer, he untied the garment and shrugged out of it. Gabrielle drank in the sight of him unabashedly. She had imagined he had a big, strong body, with a cock to match…and she wasn’t disappointed. His Rocky Mountain shoulders gave way to a broad chest and wide, flat stomach. His legs were long and wrapped with muscle. And his cock was massive, jutting in the air.

  “Apparently, everything is bigger in Texas,” she observed.

  He grinned, obviously gratified that she approved.

  She reached for him, but he dodged her hand, leaning down to whisper. “Are you trying to get out of reading? I’m not finished here.”

  She relented, turning back to the book. “This one is titled Little Death.” She poured all the throaty passion she felt from his hands moving over her into the erotic words.

  “Last night when you filled me,

  a thousand lovers exhaled,

  carrying me along on clutching gasps,

  when I died a little in your hands.”

  “I like that one,” he said, then removed the towel, exposing her buttocks.

  Gabrielle felt vulnerable, but beautiful, because he’d made her feel so special. He murmured his appreciation, then caressed her ass lovingly, running his finger up and down the sensitive crevice. She spread her legs slightly, inviting him to touch her more intimately. He slid his hand lower to tease the swollen lips of her sex. The torture was exquisite…and unbearable.

  “Slide your finger inside,” she moaned over her shoulder. “Please…”

  Chapter Seven

  Henry set his jaw. Not only was this woman beautiful and classy and had the sexiest ass he’d ever seen, but she wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted. Her request alone sent more moisture to bead the head of his cock. But when he slipped a finger inside her warm, slick channel and felt her muscles tighten around him, he almost came on the spot. He wanted in there in the worst way…but he also wanted to prolong her pleasure.

  “Keep reading,” he urged in a hoarse voice.

  She shuddered beneath his hand, but picked up the book again. “This one’s called Homecoming.” Her voice was deeper, and punctuated with little gasps as he continued to penetrate her with his finger.

  “I’m drawn to your secret places,

  the freckle behind your ear,

  the dimple behind your knee,

  the wrinkle on your wrist,

  the indention of your navel,

  the curve of your foot.

  They bring me back to your motherland.”

  He fingered her slowly and methodically, stroking the ultra-sensitive delta of skin just inside her tunnel, toward her navel, that seemed to deliver the most pleasure.

  Gabrielle undulated into his hand, then grasped the sides of the table. “I’m going to come,” she murmured.

  Henry urged her to give in to the pleasure, but as her contractions and cries increased and a climax consumed her body, he had to grit his teeth in restraint. He couldn’t ever remember wanting to bury his cock in a woman as much as he wanted to now. He waited until her spasms quieted before withdrawing his finger.

  “I want you inside me,” she gasped.

  Henry groaned—the woman was sexy beyond belief, lying face down, asking him to fill her. He paused only long enough to retrieve a condom from the pocket of his robe. By the time he’d sheathed himself, Gabrielle had put a pillow beneath her hips, elevating her ass and giving him a gut-clutching view of the dark, wet curls at her entrance.

  Lust surged through his body as he lowered himself on the table on top of her, belly to back. He kissed her shoulders and settled his cock between her wet thighs. Gabrielle lifted her head and turned her mouth to his for a hungry kiss. He reached around to cup ample breasts, and squeezed her hardened nipples. She gasped and pushed her hips up.

  “Take me now,” she whispered.

  Pure lust seized him, driving his hips forward to thrust into her. He exhaled harshly because the excruciating pleasure of sinking into her body caught him off guard.

  Their moans mingled in the air. Within a couple of thrusts, he knew he wouldn’t last long unless he could temporarily take his mind elsewhere. “Read me another one,” he rasped in her ea
r. “I want to hear your voice while I’m inside you.”

  She slowly opened the book and turned the pages. “This one…is titled…For Hours.” Her voice was breathless, punctuated by little moans of delight as their bodies accommodated each other.

  “I thought…of this moment…for hours

  when you would take me…into your cradle

  and cover me…with warm, moist layers

  and let me…show you…how much I love loving you.

  And when it is over…too soon,

  I will think…of this moment again…for hours.”

  She closed the book and tensed beneath him. “I’m going to come again.”

  He gasped as his balls tightened in preparation to be depleted. “Let’s come together.” Her escalating cries combined with the tightening of her muscles around his cock sent him over the edge. Henry’s body convulsed as she drew him deeper into her garden, milking him…draining him. “Ahh…ahhh…ahhhhhh.”

  His shouts were guttural and uncharacteristic, surprising him. He continued pumping into her, but slowed to a languid pace as they recovered together. When their bodies quieted, Henry was left shaken by the intensity of their shared orgasm. He lifted her hair to kiss the back of her moist neck. Then, carefully, he extracted his body from hers, left the table, and reached for his robe.

  Gabrielle roused slowly. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

  “Not at all.”

  She pushed herself up and before she wrapped the towel around her, gave him his first look at her magnificent breasts, full and heavy, with large dark pink nipples. Incredibly, his cock started to harden again at the knowledge that even more treats were left to sample. He watched as she moved gracefully to stop and gather her underwear before disappearing into the bathroom.