Playing With Fuego

by K. G. MacGregor

  What I wanted to express by having sex with Mari was that I liked her and found her irresistibly sexy. No sweeping promises between us of unconditional, immeasurable love or expectations of forever and always. Unless of course that’s what she has in mind. I’m wide open to that too, but for right now, I only need to know she likes me and finds me irresistibly sexy as well.

  She was smiling with her eyes—at least that’s how it looked to me. There was a certainty in her expression, like a mixture of confidence and daring, and it set a tone not of passion but adventure. We were here to have fun and I was more than okay with that.

  Holding her eyes with mine until the last possible second, I lowered my mouth to hers. She let me lead the way, responding to the pressure of my lips, opening just enough to allow our tongues to touch, and moving her face with mine so we never broke contact. There was nothing tentative about any of it. We’d dispensed with all the questions about where this was going the moment she agreed to come upstairs.

  This was all about enjoyment, and I happened to enjoy kissing very much. I always felt kissing was every bit as intimate as sexual touching, especially in the dark. In some ways it was even more expressive because it was something you did on purpose, as opposed to something driven by an out of control frenzy to reach a physical release.

  Not that I have anything against having a physical release. I just haven’t figured out how to think about somebody else while my body is exploding.

  I could concentrate fully on how I felt about Mari as our lips played together like kittens in a box. I’d totally misjudged what kind of person she was, and now that I’d seen the truth of her through the actions of both her and her family, it was possible I’d also been wrong about the type of woman she was drawn to. Maybe she’d had enough of those sultry Latin ingénue types who helped themselves to your clients because it was their nature to act always in their own best interest, oblivious to how it affected others.

  Mari might well have been waiting all this time for someone like me, a woman who had compassion for other people and honored her commitments. It was fun to play the field and have lots of sexy adventures, but the serious stuff you save not for the person who merely lights your fire but the one who shares your values.

  Not that I have anything against fire lighting. It really had been a very long time since I’d enjoyed this kind of intimacy. Bouncing back into the sexual realm with someone like Mari was like eating bacon-wrapped chili peppers the first day after getting over the stomach flu.

  And as much as I love kissing, I also love whatever comes next.

  My knee had already worked its way between her thighs, and she made sure it stayed there by wrapping one of her legs around me. I found that very hot.

  Also hot was the way she was breathing—deep, measured breaths that sounded almost like gasps. The best part was this little hitch she got once my hand started roaming across her stomach. I had a feeling that would only get better.

  I tore myself away from her lips to pull off my camisole and then helped push hers upward and over her head. The glow of the city through the wide picture window cast enough light to pale my fantasies about what her breasts would look like. They were slightly fuller than I’d envisioned, but high and round with taut brown nipples that gave away her excitement.

  Not that I have anything against full breasts. Hers were glorious and I couldn’t wait to feel them collapse under mine when I crawled back on top of her.

  But first was the matter of our pants. The excitement and curiosity surrounding the unveiling was amplified by the “does she or doesn’t she?” matter of the pubic patch. In keeping with my resistance to fashion trends, I was the very last woman under thirty in my gym to surrender to the Sphinx. I kept insisting natural was better until Emily surprised me by getting herself a Brazilian for my birthday. I got my own the very next day and never looked back.

  In the last couple of years, expensive personal grooming had come under tightening budget scrutiny, but I always found enough savings in generic groceries and toiletries to set aside sixty dollars a month for this essential gift to myself. The appeal went well beyond the intensity of a wet tongue on my smooth labia. I liked the way it looked and how soft it felt under my own touch, so much that I often went to sleep with—

  Enough about me.

  Mari’s pants and ivory lace thong slid off her like quicksilver, revealing a lovely bare mons that glowed against her dark tan lines. Mercy!

  I rolled the coverlet to the foot of the bed and nudged her back against the pillows. Then I shed my own pants and crawled onto her, moaning with bliss as our warm skin melded atop the cool sheets.

  I wanted to tell her she felt magnificent, but we were now under a silent spell in which our bodies did all the talking. As my thigh pressed between her legs, she arched gently upward and threw her head back, allowing me to warm up my lips for the Big Event on her lovely neck. All the while her fingertips danced around the small of my back, occasionally dipping down to stroke the Y-shaped dimple at the base of my spine. I loved the tickling sensation and the boldness of her intimate touch, but I wasn’t ready to turn my attention from her, not when every little thing I did caused that marvelous hitch in her breathing.

  With a slight shift, I maneuvered back into position to kiss her, this time letting my fingers wander south to her breast. I struck a perfect rhythm to alternately tease both her tongue and nipple, and she soon began to squirm with want. That’s when I lowered my head and took half her breast into my mouth.

  She answered with a long hiss…no translation needed.

  I pressed her breasts together and nestled my face between them, deciding this was where I wanted to sleep tonight much later when our bodies finally succumbed to fatigue. As I brushed my cheek against her pebbled nipple, I reached my hand between her legs and cupped her whole sex. The moist warmth turned to wet heat as she opened herself and I slid my fingers through her as if stirring honey.

  I had to taste her.

  She was ready for that, her lips swollen and glistening. As I lowered my mouth, I raised my eyes to look at her, but she was already lost. Her sharp intake of breath as my mouth fell upon her was all the proof I needed she was still there with me. I could have lavished that soft cleft with teasing licks and nibbles all night, but Mari climbed out of control right away. When her hand pressed against the back of my head to hold me in place, I knew her climax was imminent and I wanted all of her I could get. Without changing the strokes of my firm tongue against her clitoris, I slid two fingers inside her.

  She cried out as her inner walls clutched my hand with spasms. “Oh, Daphne…”

  It’s always good to hear your own name called out in the heat of the moment.

  I held my spot for nearly a minute while her waves receded. Then I went right back to work with my tongue, drawing a second, third and even a fourth climax until she tugged on my ear to say she’d had enough.

  “I’m about to use your favorite word,” Mari said, running her hand through my hair as I laid my head on her chest. “That was exquisite.”

  “It certainly was.”

  “My bones have gone to water. I couldn’t move it I wanted to.”

  “You don’t have to. Stay right here and go to sleep if that’s how you feel.” I didn’t really mean that.

  “Not a chance. I’m taking exactly three minutes to get the blood flow back out to my extremities, and then I’m going to show you all the mercy you showed me.”

  She was free to show me anything. I’ve never been the kind of girl to follow the very first kiss with a roll in the sack, but I’d been dealing with my attraction to Mari for so long, it felt like we’d been dating for weeks. Though I hardly knew her, what I did know made me trust her.

  I was ready to start all over when she bumped me off her chest and onto my back.

  “You have a gorgeous body,” she said, trailing a finger from my throat through the valley of my breasts to my navel and back.

  My brain co
uldn’t form any words to answer, so I smiled and closed my eyes to concentrate on her touch. I’ve always been relatively happy with my physical self. It’s my emotional and behavioral selves that need work, and I had high hopes Mari’s calming presence would rub off on me in a good way.

  “My name is Mari. That’s M…” She traced an M just below my navel. “A…R…”—across my diaphragm—“and I.” The last letter she drew from one of my nipples to the other, bringing both to hardened peaks.

  “Now your address with the nine-digit zip code.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to leave any parts of you untouched.”

  She methodically delivered on her promise one inch at a time, starting with the tips of my fingers and working her way to my shoulders, leaving all the downy hairs on my arms standing in her wake.

  “I like this spot right here,” she said, gently pinching the pliable skin at the base of my earlobe. “I’m betting it has the same texture as one of your more private places.”

  Where Mari was concerned, I preferred not to have any private places. “Only one way to find out.”

  “All in good time.” She nuzzled my neck until I turned my head for her, and then she nibbled gently on my earlobe. “What do you think about when you feel my teeth nipping at you here?”

  I hoped this wasn’t a character test, because I hadn’t been dwelling on world peace. Nor did I want to tell her the truth—that I’d been listening to her breathe—because I didn’t want her to become overly aware she was giving so much emotion away. “I’m really busy feeling. Don’t ask me to think too.”

  “How good are you at feeling two things at once?” She returned her lips to my ear as her fingernails began gently scraping my nipple.

  “It’s…” I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “I’m very good.”

  “Lucky for you.”

  I caught her lips and pulled her into another deep kiss. She draped her leg over mine and continued lavishing attention on my breast, alternating between gentle caresses and sharp tweaks so I couldn’t forget she was there no matter how many other hotspots were erupting. I considered reminding her that she hadn’t finished writing all over me yet, but she didn’t need any help, especially if her goal was to pluck me like a harp. Postponing the inevitable for a bit longer was a good idea anyway because I would probably explode the second she touched me, and I didn’t have a clip full of climaxes just waiting to fire off. I’d be lucky to survive the first one.

  The moment her hand left my breast I knew it was headed somewhere important. We both moaned when it got there, but that was the extent of our verbal communication from that point on. Everything else we said with our bodies, mine pushing upward as her fingers tickled my sex all too lightly, and hers sliding against me in what felt like a backbeat tempo. The effect of having her pull back as I pressed into her was maddening. It was also all that kept me from climaxing way too early.

  She pressed her cheek next to mine, letting me hear every gasp, pant and sigh. It was thrilling to know she was as excited as I was, just as I’d been when she surrendered to me.

  When her fingers dipped inside me and then back up to encircle my Screaming Clitoris, I felt the first hot vibration of my impending climax. I was barely aware that my hand was flicking her shoulder at the same speed and pressure I would have used had I been touching myself. She must have gotten my message, though, since she gave me exactly what I needed.

  I drew a deep breath and held it, simultaneously clutching Mari’s head to hold her close as my whole body shuddered with release.

  The waves were still pulsing when she squirmed free of my grasp and lowered her face to my navel, clearly on her way to taste what she’d done to me.

  “No, no…I can’t. It’s too sensitive.” Even having her look at it was enough to send electric jolts through my whole body.

  “So there isn’t another one hiding in there?”

  “One and done.”

  “For how long?”

  “At least an hour.”

  Undaunted, she nuzzled my neck, letting her breasts sway across my abdomen. “Enough time to savor Benito’s fabulous flan. Every bite is like an orgasm for your taste buds. I’m telling you, that man descended from epicurean royalty.”

  Fetching the flan from the living room where I’d dropped it required getting up, and getting up required moving. Flan couldn’t possibly taste better than lying here with Mari felt.

  Not that I have anything against eating in bed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mari’s wealth management firm was in a canyon of office buildings and condos in the Brickell neighborhood, with its clean streets and broad, tree-lined sidewalks. The financial center of practically all of Latin America, it’s home to dozens of international banks and foreign consulates. If Emily and I had shopped around before buying our place, I might have argued for something in this area, since it has restaurants and street-level retail in most of the buildings, and a supermarket within walking distance. Anything that keeps me out of my car is a plus.

  Even getting here from my place was a breeze—a short walk to the Omni Station, then a twelve-minute ride on the Metromover, Miami’s free downtown rail trolley that hums a few stories above rush hour traffic, and another short walk at the end. The only problem with walking around Miami is crossing streets, because Mordy’s Three-Second Rule applies double to pedestrians. It’s unwise to step into the intersection too soon, and once you do, you’d best quick-foot it to the other side.

  I waited for a dark Chevy Suburban to pass, but instead it pulled against the curb at the corner into a No Parking zone. So typical. Drivers in Miami pay no attention to signs. It’s beyond me why anyone would need such a massive vehicle in Miami in the first place, but apparently they’re all the rage. There had been another one exactly like it parked in the circle at my condo, right under the Loading Zone Only sign.

  Mari’s office was on the twenty-fourth floor of One Brickell Square, a towering structure of white concrete and glass with marble floors throughout not only the lobby but the outdoor plaza as well. It was after six and most workers had gone for the day.

  The mirrored walls of the elevator gave me one last chance to check my look. I’d gone home after work to change into something I hoped would pass for casual elegance, slacks with a plain silk blouse and a colorful silk corsage I’d gotten for Christmas two years ago from my Secret Santa at the foundation…someone with fashion sense. Mari was taking me to dinner across the street at Truluck’s, and then giving me a tour of her condo. From the suggestive tone of our kazillion text messages over the last three days, I wasn’t expecting to see any more of her place than she’d seen of mine a couple of nights ago.

  Mari had described her wealth management firm as a boutique family business, which just happened to control more than two billion dollars in investments. She and Pepe oversaw the accounts with the help of five sales consultants, an accountant, three junior analysts—one of whom was Chacho’s older brother—and three administrative assistants, including Talia’s mom, who was Mari’s sister-in-law. Another key player was Felix, her gay uncle, who served as the firm’s legal counsel.

  A receptionist, dressed as if she were on her way to a nightclub, met me at the door. All young Hispanic women seem to dress that way, probably knowing perfectly well how much pressure it puts on the rest of us.

  “You must be Daphne,” she said, her Spanish accent barely noticeable. Second generation, I’d guess. “Mari’s in her office…next to last door on the left.”

  There wasn’t another soul in the place, which made me feel bad for the poor woman working reception. She’d probably stayed late at Mari’s request to show me in.

  Mari was on the phone, but grinned and waved when she saw me. “Let me talk to Pepe. I bet he’ll want to have you to dinner on the yacht one night. Does that sound like something you and your wife would enjoy?”

  Ah, yes…dinner on the yacht with our friends. For Mari and Pepe, it was just anothe
r day at the office, while for me it had been a once-in-a-lifetime fantasy come true.

  Beyond her desk was a gorgeous view of flickering lights from the luxury condos and hotels on Brickell Key. If I looked out on that all day, I’d never get anything done. Even the inside of her office was beautiful, with expensive furniture and not a single element of the décor out of place. Thirty-three years old and already sitting on top of the world.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said when she dropped the phone. “Thanks for meeting me. Did you look around?”

  “I saw enough. It looks like a great place to work.” I was still playing back the mental tape of her calling me sweetie, and taking in the sight of her tight brown skirt, plunging ivory top and open-toed platform pumps.

  “Come over here.” She led me to the window and pointed to the building next door, soaring so high above us that its reflection twinkled in the bay. “That’s where I live. I walk to work every day.”

  “Now you’re just rubbing it in. I’d be downright cheerful all the time if I had your commute.” I waited as she tidied her desk and collected her handbag. “Sounds like you and Pepe have lots of dinners on the yacht.”

  “Yeah, that’s something he likes to do for all the Iberican investors. It reminds them how rich they are, so they don’t balk when we tell them it costs five million to buy in.”

  “Five million dollars?”

  “I know. It’s not for average investors, just the ones who have serious cash. Most of our clients are institutions, like corporations, or pension funds and foundations. Pepe won’t even let me invest because I can’t afford it.”

  “I guess you won’t be coming after my IRA.”

  She surprised me with a kiss, more intense than I would have expected in such a public place. “I don’t care about your money, but I’m quite interested in your other assets.”