The Mount Series Boxset

by K D Grace

  He was still gasping for breath when she eased herself up. She turned on him, tugged off the condom, and, before he could do more than offer an astonished gasp, she shoved up her sweater and began rubbing his semen over her tight nipples and down her belly. ‘I hate that we have to use a condom,’ she said. ‘I want your smell against my skin.’ Then she reached her hand between her legs and wiped her open palm over the splay of her folds until it glistened with her juices. Holding Paulo’s gaze, she did the same to him, wiping her scent over his nipples and down his belly.

  For a long moment she stood over him in the tight little room, gulping back their scent. He followed suit. God, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted that smell. He wanted to take it home, sleep with it, dream with it, take it to the Martelli labs and study it. But in his little fantasy, he’d have to take the woman who helped produce that delicious scent to the lab with him, and he’d have to fuck her repeatedly. After all, results of an experiment had to be duplicable to be proven. Right? Nearly head-butting her, he bent and picked up her panties, pulled them to his nose, and sniffed. ‘I want these,’ he whispered as she offered him a questioning gaze. ‘A memento.’ While she watched, he carefully wiped her pussy on them and stuffed them into his pocket. ‘I want to take something of you back to my flat with me, something that won’t wash away when I shower. And when I take them out of my pocket and masturbate to your scent, I’ll come thinking of you arriving in Rome wearing no panties.’

  She offered him a wicked pout. ‘Don’t I get a memento?’

  With his eyes locked on hers, he pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and made a show of wiping his cock and down around his balls. Then he refolded it and handed it to her. She sniffed it deeply and stuffed it in her waistband before wriggling her skirt down over her bare bottom.

  If he’d had doubts that the experiments he’d been wanting to carry out in the Martelli labs were worth pursuing, this woman with her incredible nose and their shared olfactory experience completely eliminated them. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he had every intention of convincing her to stay in Rome and work with Martelli. But first, he’d probably need to know her name. Before she turned to leave the restroom, he pulled her back to him and gave her a long lazy tongue-kiss, whispering into her mouth as he nipped her bottom lip, ‘I’m Paulo, by the way.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Paulo,’ she said, nipping back. ‘I’m Liza.’

  Back at her seat, Paulo didn’t sit down. ‘I have a mountain of work I need to finish before we land, and you, my lovely Liza, have delayed my progress terribly.’

  ‘Poor dear,’ she said, handing him his jacket from where it had fallen on the floor.

  ‘I’d rather stay here and sniff you.’

  ‘And I’d rather you did, but since you’ve got things to do …’ she slipped a business card in the breast pocket of his shirt ‘… just give me a call when you’re ready for another sniff.’

  He groaned as she fondled his nipple pressing against the pocket. ‘Give me your phone,’ he said. She pulled her BlackBerry from her seat pocket and handed it to him. He entered his number into her address book and gave it back. ‘I’ll sniff you in Rome once we’ve both had a good night’s rest.’ He nipped her earlobe, then turned and sauntered back up the aisle to the first class cabin.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Wow!’ Liza gasped as she pushed open the door to Number 14 Bernini Place. This was way more luxurious than she had expected. She knew that Martelli Fragrance owned the Bernini Building. When they’d offered her the flat while she was in Rome writing her article, she had expected a nice studio apartment and, with any luck, a good view. What she got was high ceilings, wood floors, and very expensive modern Italian furnishings in a flat at least twice the size of her mother’s house in Portland. She dropped her bags at the door and took the tour. There was a huge kitchen and a dining room with French doors leading onto a mosaic-tiled patio. There was a lounge, a study, and a master bedroom with a bathroom bigger than her whole flat. The bed was big enough for an orgy and so were both the Jacuzzi tub and the shower. She could easily get lost in the closet and have to wait for a search party, and she was already fantasizing about doing Paulo multiple times in multiple rooms.

  Thoughts of the mysterious Paulo, and his involvement in her total lack of panties, had her wet and clenching by the time she lugged her bags into the bedroom. She deliberately took the time to unpack, shifting her hips as she walked, feeling the delicious friction beneath her skirt. She couldn’t keep from wondering if she was still sitting in the airport lounge dreaming. Things like this never happened to her. Certainly things like Paulo never happened to her. She’d never thrown herself at a man before, and this time she went totally off the deep end. Fucking in the bathroom in an airplane! In the air! That was so cliché it didn’t bear thinking about, and yet, God, it was the best damned sex she had ever had. Ever!

  Still, if she were wiser, more cautious, mindful of the fact that she’d just broken up with her boyfriend … But no! She wasn’t on the rebound. Honestly, it was a relief to be away from Carl. With all the distance between them he’d never really seemed like her boyfriend. She wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door to find it fully stocked. Martelli really knew how to treat their guests. She found a bottle of chilled sparkling water and poured it into a cut crystal glass, then she nibbled at a few of the delicious grapes from the fruit bowl. Finally she moved back into the bedroom and settled cross-legged in the middle of the enormous mattress to check her BlackBerry. She supposed she should actually read the messages Carl had left. They would be a little easier to take after her steamy encounter with Paulo.

  There was an email from Addie asking if she’d made it to Rome all right and how her flight had been. She actually giggled out loud. The flight was amazing, she replied. She was looking forward to sharing details with her friend over a glass of wine once she got back to Portland.

  The next three emails were from Carl. She skipped those. Then there was another one from Addie asking if she’d enjoyed her time with Carl. She thought about it for a second and then simply replied that it hadn’t happened. She really didn’t want to talk about Carl, not when her mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Paulo.

  There was the tinkle of an incoming text. She figured it was Addie and braced herself for a barrage of questions about Carl. But the text wasn’t from Addie, nor was it from Carl. It was from Paulo. Her heart went into free fall.

  Did you make it to your hotel OK?

  With a big smile plastered on her face, she texted back.

  Just arrived. Staying in a flat, actually. It’s amazing! You?

  In limo heading home. Have your missing undergarment in my pocket. Stroking it to stimulate your delicious scent. Pretty sure you can guess what I’m stroking with my other hand.

  She laughed out loud. The rush of moist heat between her legs made her quiver. She slipped out of her sweater and unhooked the bra she had put back on before the plane landed, giving both her girls a caress as she freed them.

  Really, P! Sex in a limo is so cliché.

  Really, L! With your scent all over me, and your memento in my pocket it’s more essential than it is cliché.

  Ah yes, my missing undergarment. Thanks to you I left the poor cab driver’s leather back seat very slippery.

  She wriggled on the bed.

  Where are your hands, you naughty woman?

  On my BlackBerry, of course.

  Lol! Liar.

  Her chuckle sounded positively filthy.

  Not lying at all. Keyboard getting sticky though.

  You naked?

  Still wearing skirt. Nothing! Else!

  OMG, woman! What you do to me! Pic?

  Her heart bounced furiously in her chest and her pussy clenched. Fuck! Had he just asked her to send him a picture? Double fuck! Was she actually considering it? She nearly dropped her BlackBerry as she texted back.

  You show me yours, I
’ll show you mine

  There was a long pause. Oh god! Had she misunderstood him? Had she offended him? She was in the middle of composing a quick apology when his text came through. Fucking hell! It was a picture of his very large, very thick erection resting in the cupped palm of his hand against the silky red backdrop of her panties. The text simply read:

  Your turn.

  This was insane. This was not the sort of thing she would ever in a million years do. Was it because she was in a foreign country with a man she’d more than likely never see again when she was done here? For that matter they might both wake up in the morning too embarrassed to even contemplate further contact. He wasn’t some backpacker passing through. Fuck! She knew nothing about him other than that he’d been seated in the first class cabin. Maybe he was married. Maybe he was a pervert serial killer. For the briefest moment a picture of Carl’s bare ass shoving and humping at the bimbo on his kitchen counter flashed through her head. She caught her breath, shoved up her skirt, and leaned back against the pillows, splaying her legs wide and bent-kneed. Then she fingered open her engorged pussy lips and snapped the shot with her other hand.

  A peek at it made her stomach somersault. It was just so brazen. Her pussy, centre stage, wet and wild and on display between her fingers. Christ, she was insane, but she was totally turned on by the thought of Paulo stroking his cock with her panties while getting an up close and personal of her love box in his inbox. She wiped her fingers on her skirt and quickly typed:

  To Rome with Lust: Cumming soon in a bedroom near you.

  There was another long pause, but she was way past thinking about apologizing as she fingered her wet spot and thumbed her clit with one hand while flipping back and forth between the two filthy photos with the other. She was damn near there when the next text arrived.

  Just came on your panties.

  That sent her over and she had to wait to reply until she was done orgasming. When she could breathe again, she typed with an unsteady hand.

  Just came on my fingers, then wiped them on your handkerchief.

  There was another long pause in which she imagined both of them catching their breath. Finally another text arrived just as she was drifting off against the mound of fluffy pillows.

  Gotta go, Lovely L. I’m home. See you tomorrow?

  Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted to see her in spite of what they’d done!

  Have to work tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow eve?

  I’ll text. I know a great Italian restaurant

  Chapter Five

  Paulo stopped home just long enough to shower and change clothes. He couldn’t quiet his mind, and it wasn’t only because he’d just had the sexiest twelve hours of his entire life. As was often the case, inspiration followed very closely behind really good mind-blowing sex – at least it did for him, and his experience with Liza Calendar had definitely been just that. He picked up her card and examined it again before he stuffed it in his wallet. Liza Calendar High Rising e-mag. Where had he heard that name before? He’d have to look up the website when he had a few minutes, but at the moment, he wanted to talk to Coraline and get her approval for what he had in mind.

  ‘Welcome back. She’s not in her office,’ Jim Dryer called over his shoulder as Paulo headed toward Coraline Martelli’s suite. He fell into step next to Paulo, trying not to spill his overly-full coffee cup. In spite of being born and bred in Middle America, Jim’s Italian was excellent; he could drive and park in Rome with the stroppiest Romans. He knew a hundred ways to make pasta that was bellissimo. The man loved everything about Italy, but in the middle of the afternoon, he still had to have at least one cup of weak instant coffee. Paulo shivered at the thought. ‘I need to talk to her,’ he said.

  ‘Talk to me about what?’ Coraline Martelli blew in like a wind off the Med. Somehow, she always dressed to the nines without looking like a clotheshorse, and even this late in the day she had that morning freshness about her. Her PA Alessandro looked slightly less pristine: rapidly taking notes and struggling to keep up. ‘Get me some coffee,’ she ordered him. He glanced up, wrinkled his brow as though he’d only just realized where he was, and then headed back toward the kitchen. ‘What do you want, Paulo?’ she said. ‘I’m not in a great mood. I hate the new line, and the marketing people we hired are idiots. How was New York, and fill me in on this woman with the nose you emailed about.’

  While Jim’s eyes still glazed over at the way Coraline Martelli’s brain darted and shifted, Paulo had worked with the woman most of his life. She was anything but scatter-brained. The CEO of Martelli Fragrance had one of the most brilliant minds he’d ever known. She just had too much going on to always get it out in a manner that the less brilliant could understand. Not that Jim wasn’t brilliant. He wouldn’t be working at Martelli if he wasn’t the best, but Jim still viewed Coraline as only slightly less than a goddess, and that made it difficult for him to meet the woman head to head in her own environment.

  ‘Come into my office,’ she motioned. ‘Do you need Jim? Alessandro,’ she called back over her shoulder. ‘Coffee for Paulo too. Jim’s drinking his afternoon swill.’ Then with a nod of her perfectly coiffed head she walked into her suite without so much as breaking stride. Looking dazed, Jim followed Paulo.

  Coraline plopped down behind her desk, pulled out a very expensive pen, and began to doodle on the desk blotter, which was the only cheap thing in the room. And probably the most essential. Coraline Martelli’s very best ideas came from what seemed like her endless and mindless scribblings on numerous sheets from her blotter. Paulo had in the back of his mind that some day they should collect all of those pages, put them into a book, and publish them. People would pay good money for the ideas that came from that brilliant mind.

  ‘So tell me about the nose,’ she said again, offering Paulo a no-nonsense smile just as Alessandro delivered two double espressos and a plate of Milano biscuits.

  Paulo gulped his espresso, taking the moment to do a quick edit of what he would tell Coraline and what he would keep to himself. He was glad for Jim’s presence because, when she read between the lines – which inevitably she would – she’d be less likely to grill him if they weren’t alone.

  OK, it wasn’t one of Liza’s finest moments, and she’d like to have blamed it on jet-lag, but really, it was hard to sleep when the glorious Italian sun was gleaming through the windows of the fabulous apartment, and she and Paulo had just sexted their way to yet another mind-blowing orgasm. Liza could tell from the map of Rome that she wasn’t but a few blocks from the offices of Martelli Fragrance and, since she was wide awake, she might as well get an early start on her research. After a quick shower, she walked the few blocks to the Martelli Building. It had been her plan to ask if Reception would call upstairs to the main offices and get permission for her to have a look-see. But then she smelled him. There were some things you just couldn’t write off to jet lag. She was as sure as she was of her own name that she smelled Paulo. She’d recognize his scent anywhere and, from the strength of it, he had only been there a few minutes before. She sniffed her way to the lifts without being noticed and, when no one looked her way, she took the one that smelled most like him. As much as anything, she rode the lift all the way up to the Martelli Suites so she could spend a few more minutes basking in the wonderful lightning storm and desert heat scent. When the elevator opened to Martelli’s main reception, the smell only became stronger, and when no one paid her any attention, she followed it. The little gasp of ecstasy that escaped her lips was purely involuntary and would have been embarrassing if anyone had been close enough to notice.

  She sniffed down a long hallway past a kitchen that smelled of rich coffee made strong and made often. It was amazing how easily she could sift through all of the smells of all of the people who worked at Martelli and single out just his amazing scent. It was as easy to follow as a marked trail. It led her to a large corner office with an open door where the scent of him was damn near strong enough to m
ake her come. The sign on the brass plaque engraved in elegant italic letters read A.P. Delacour. Her stomach did a somersault. Why the hell would the office of the heir apparent to the Martelli empire smell like Paulo – her Paulo? She walked by the office as unobtrusively as she could, and when she was certain it was empty, she did the stupidest thing ever. She looked both ways, then she walked right on in, sniffing as she went. And oh God, the room smelled delicious – like the man had rubbed up against everything, like the man had spent the night there. She sniffed her way behind the desk where the smell of him was strongest, warm and rich. On a stupid impulse she pulled back the big leather chair at the desk and slipped into it. There was a fresh wave of Paulo-scented air as the cool leather caressed the exposed backs of her thighs. She couldn’t help herself, she opened her legs, and her own scent peaked with arousal that left her sniffing and sighing and breathing at that more than magnificent blending of their smells. Her nipples stiffened to hard points against her bra and she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. Then she did it again and again, her hips shifting forward and back ever so slightly against the clutch of the leather. She smiled to herself as she thought about the filthy text she would send to Paulo tonight, and how she would tease him about sniffing him out at Martelli Fragrance. Strange that those should have been her thoughts instead of thoughts of self-preservation.