“You’re falling in love,” Shavone says with a tilt of her head.
I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Are you falling for my cousin?” Gabs looks at me hopefully.
I shake my head vehemently. “Don’t be offended, G. I know he’s your cousin, but I don’t want to get serious. I just want,” I shrug. “Sex.”
“You hussy.” Amber winks.
“But can you see yourself falling for Vic?” Gabs pushes.
These girls are my confidants. I trust them implicitly. With a big sigh, I grimace and nod admitting the truth to them and me.
“I don’t want to. Wouldn’t it be ironic if I fell for the first guy I sleep with?”
“It would be romantic, not ironic. You’ve got it together, Cherie. You were wise for waiting,” Fallon says, adding with a sigh, “I wish I had.”
Fallon’s first relationship was with a high school boy —correction, a high school asshole — who only wanted to brag about deflowering the beautiful, already semi-famous, Fallon.
Her experience was so painful. I remember how hurt she was. Yet, here I sit, thinking of Victor as my man and my boyfriend.
I hug Fallon. “Love you, girl.” If she only knew that being unwise is what put me in Victor’s room.
That part I’m not ready to admit to anyone.
“Okay, girls, I’ll be the one to ask. How is he in the sack?” Amber says.
My face feels like it’ll split in two if I smile any broader at that question.
“Well, there’s your answer, A,” Lauralynn giggles.
I nod. “Victor is a very good, patient lover and teacher, but” — I wrinkle my nose — “How do you know if you’re having too much sex? Because I think we are.”
Shavone laughs. “There is no such thing.”
“Especially at the beginning of a relationship. Lap it up, girl.” Lauralynn elbows me affectionally.
“Oh, I am.” I furrow my brows and repeat, I am, to myself. Even I’m surprised at the intensity of my sexuality. Who knew that kind of desire even existed let alone existed in me?
I’ve missed my girls. We share our entrées with one another, order six different desserts and share those, too. Good food, good friends and easy conversation, dinner is a joy.
Enrique is waiting outside when we leave. He follows, but at a distance.
I elbow Shavone.
“He’s just being overprotective,” she says.
“I’m glad.” I hug her shoulder as we walk.
Back in my room at The Avalon, I take a quick peek through the connecting door into Victor’s room. He isn’t there. I get undressed, taking off everything but the stockings.
I try on the uniforms. The fit of the size six is most comfortable, allowing me to move my arms freely. Although, I’ll have to hem the slacks and skirts. Since I’ll be here awhile, I might get an estimate on having the jackets tailored, too. The shoulders sag and the sleeves are a bit too long.
That decided, I hang the uniforms back in the closet. I hold up my new lingerie against the stockings. Both the babydoll and the teddy look ridiculous with the stockings. Oh well. Victor seems to like my white summer robe, so I slip it on. The lingerie will have to wait until another time.
Grabbing a bottled water, the big envelop Helen gave me, my laptop and my glasses, I go to Victor’s suite to wait for him. His iPod is in the dock, so I scan his music library to see what he’s been listening to. Looks like he likes all kinds of genres — Latin, pop and blues mostly, but it’s the 80s playlist that is selected.
I smile wondering if he really likes 80s or if it’s the player from last night. The entire night, from the bath to the dinner and gondola rides, I’m certain I’ll never forget it. It’ll be one of those memories that stays with someone for a lifetime, especially the gondola ride back down the mountain.
My whole body tightens remembering how I shamelessly I rocked on him, my fear of heights totally obliterated.
I smile to myself. That memory from the date could work as a nice antidote for wherever and whenever I have to deal with another scary gondola.
Yes. It was as unique a first date — as unique as my first sexual experience.
However, any more dates like that with the thoughtful, sweet and romantic Victor, and I could be in deep, deep trouble. His angry and jealous Mr. Hyde side? I hope I never see him again.
I hit play on the iPod dock and get comfortable on the bed. Glasses on, I open the envelop. I quickly fill out the healthcare enrollment and set it aside.
The retirement form isn’t as easy. I turn on the laptop and get online to check out the ratings of the various mutual funds offered in the Santana Resorts 401K. Selecting four different types of index funds, I opt for a contribution that’ll maximize the company’s matching funds — just like Mom advised.
Done, I set the computer aside and settle into read the employee handbook. It’s thick, the contents covering everything from staff appearance to the treatment of celebrity guests.
At the front of the manual is the history of the hotel and the Santana family followed by a light-hearted account of the bruja and her red apple love spell.
I read the spell aloud.
“Deep within this apple’s heart, this spell is cast for love to start. Bring together love and trust, cast out frauds with the dust. Here is the truth and here is the power, may pure love grow and flower.”
A lighthearted zephyr fits through the room.
“Well, hello, spirit. Is this your work?”
The spirit flutters my robe and hair.
“It’s a cute spell, a great marketing tool for sure.”
But an apple is too weak to charm a building this large, I think.
She flutters the curtains and is gone.
I go back to the HR manual, flipping to the dress and appearance guidelines page. No funky hair color, minimal jewelry and piercings, hair kept neat and trim. These are similar to the other hotels I’ve worked at.
The guidelines concerning celebrity guests are long. Being in Telluride, The Avalon hosts a lot of celebrities especially during the Film Festival and the Video Awards. Staff cannot ask for autographs, photographs, tickets or anything else. Staff isn’t allowed to talk to the media, or to tell anyone who is registered or staying at The Avalon, and definitely not mention who the celebrity is staying with at the hotel. The celebrity will be afforded full privacy. Any employee who breaks any of these rules will be fired immediately. Not a problem. The Broadmoor had similar rules.
Rolling over onto my stomach, I reach for the water bottle just as the lock mechanism clicks on the door.
God, should I even be here on Victor’s bed like this? Maybe I should have waited for an invitation.
Perhaps you should have reasoned this out earlier, Cherie.
Too late now. I glance over my shoulder at the door.
“Hey, babe,” I say, deciding to play it cool and casual. Taking a sip of water, I flip to the next page in the guidebook.
“I think I want to start at the front desk — a night shift so I can learn the software, room locations, you know, the property infrastructure and operation basics. It’s best to have that down before interacting too heavily with guests. What do you think?”
chapter twenty-five
MY CHERIE. MY beautiful Cherie lies on her tummy on my bed, swings her legs up and down. Sexy stockings, damn-near see-through robe, blonde hair tumbling everywhere and blue eyes that I’d die for.
Holy fuck.
A centerfold scene right here, private just for me. Tilting my head at just the right angle, I even get a peek between her legs. Doesn’t look like she’s wearing underwear.
Vaguely aware that she’s talking, blood roars through my ears. My cock hard as steel, all I can do is stand there, gawking.
“Babe?” And there’s that crystal chandelier smile, completing the seduction.
No. Completing the seduction is when she reaches to put the water on the night table. As she does, the robe rides
halfway up her ass — her bare ass.
She rolls over to her back with the handbook in her hands. “Did you hear what I said about starting at the front desk?”
“Whatever you want, peaches.” I toss my suit jacket in the general direction of a chair, do the same with my tie. “Will you roll back on your tummy?”
“What?” She crinkles her nose.
“Just roll back the way you were.”
She does it for me.
I groan. “I can barely stand how sexy you are.”
I stare at my dream girl who once again invited herself unexpectedly into my bed. I am not complaining.
“Will you crook your legs like they were?” I take off my clothes, fast.
“Like this?” She swings those sexy feet to almost touch her head, giving me a clear view between her legs.
And her scent. My beast snarls at that scent. She’s ready. I can smell how ready she is.
“Aw, mi pequeña.” I growl. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
All the blood in my body is in my cock right fucking now. Light headed, I move — more like stagger, closer.
“You can’t lay there like that and not expect to be accosted.”
Flipping that riot of hair, she looks over her shoulder at me, smiles shyly, bats her eyelashes.
“I see. The mean virgin wants to take me out of my mind.”
She nods, bites her bottom lip.
My fingertips stroke her calfs, shins and up her thighs, pushing the robe all the way off that perfect ass.
Fuck. Her ass is beautiful. I swell thicker as I scoot her knees apart just a tad to get a clearer view of heaven, already glistening for me.
I growl with pure animal lust.
My fingers trail back down her thigh, caress where the lace meets skin.
“What’s softer? Stocking?” Starting at her ankle, my palm slides up her leg. “Or skin?” My hand keeps going up, up onto bare thigh and ass.
“Mmmmm,” I moan. “Skin. Definitely, skin.”
I massage her ass, lower my mouth to that softer than soft spot where ass meets thigh. Such a delicious little curve. I bite it lightly, lick it, then blow on it.
Cherie whimpers, pushes toward my mouth, offering me more of her sweet ass.
Groaning, I accept the invite, kissing, biting and licking all over her cheeks. While my mouth is busy there, I finger her folds, press on her clit. Opening her slit, my finger glides right into her slick heat. So wet.
She rewards me with a throaty moan and by thrusting her ass even further up to me. With her in the air like that, I can lick her clit, so I do.
“Mr. Santana,” she gasps, wiggles her pussy against my hand.
Sweet Cherie, you’ve got me so fired up, I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
Keeping that one finger inside her, I carefully roll her over on her back. With my other hand, I lay her glasses aside and tug on the sash to open my favorite slinky robe. My eyes take in every sensuous inch of her — hair fanning across my bed, eyes glazed with desire for me, ripe lips parted with want, firm pink nipples begging to be sucked, creamy skin, tawny curls between her thighs and shapely legs encased in stockings that she left on just for me.
For me.
Prudently, I inhale through my nose, exhale out my mouth, try like hell to calm my cock that wants to go now. That part of my anatomy is at war with my mind. My mind wants to cherish this, enjoy her for hours and hours tonight.
All deep breathing accomplishes, though, is bringing more of her irresistible scent into my nostrils.
I lower my head to tongue a nipple, knowing and loving her immediate response. The handbook tossed over the side of the bed, she fists my hair, holding my head on her tit. Her hot little body arches off the bed wanting more of my mouth and finger.
“God, Victor, I love that.”
Blood boiling and barely conscious, I remove my hand from between her legs, back my mouth off the tasty hard pebble. I want her as aroused as I am.
“No,” she protests, grips my head.
I smile, kiss down her belly, nibble on the crease of her thigh and nuzzle her pussy.
“Mmmmm. Salty peaches. I love your delicious flavor,” I say.
“Is that why you call me peaches?” She asks.
“Mmmm, hmmm.” I give her crotch a super light lick.
“Yes, please.” She pushes her pelvis up.
Not yet, sweetness. Let’s build your want, make it match mine.
I blow on the wetness between her thighs, watch, with satisfaction, her ass muscles clench. Then, I move away from that plush, aromatic temptation.
“Stay right there.”
I unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants.
The girl watches me take off my pants and boxers. She moans and licks her lips when my cock springs free.
I grab her ankles and slide her to the edge of the bed. I rest my cock on top of her mound while I rub my lips along her sexy leg, beginning at the ankle, stopping every few inches to nip lightly through the stocking. When I get to bare thigh, I kiss and lick.
Her left leg duly worshipped, I move to her right leg — my cheek cuddles a sexy calf before I kiss and bite all the way up to another soft thigh. Lingering my hands on her pussy, I slide my cock lightly on her clit.
Her squirming intensifies. She lifts her hips pushing at my cock for more pressure. The higher and harder she presses, the more I back off.
“Victor.” She’s mad.
I chuckle. She doesn’t like to be teased. “Not yet, mi ninfa.”
“Now who’s being mean.” She pants at me, blue eyes begging me.
“I’m just enjoying you, sweetness. Every luscious inch of you.”
My attention moves to her left hand. I kiss each fingertip, suck on each finger.
“God, Victor. You’re driving me crazy.”
I kiss and lick her palm, guiltily lave some love on the light bruise I put on her graceful wrist. Kissing up her arm, I stop to lick in the crease of her elbow.
She giggles. “That tickles.”
I do it some more, smiling when she laughs harder and tries to pull her arm away.
“Uh, uh, I’m not done tasting you yet,” I say.
With one long lick up her bicep to her throat, I kiss her neck, pull her hair back and nibble behind her ear.
She sighs, whimpers.
Damn, but I want to bite her, to make her my mate forever.
Soon.
From her ear, I move to her mouth, kiss her slowly, deeply, tasting her fully. Leaving those succulent lips, I kiss behind her other ear, tug gently on the lobe with my teeth before I move down her right arm and hand to suck each fingertip on that side.
“Please.” She arches her tits toward me.
I know what she wants, so I give her a little of it — oh so fucking slowly and lightly. I tease a pink nipple with broad licks with a flat tongue. Move to the other to do the same. I go back and forth between her breasts for a little while, then move my mouth south across her belly heading for that peach scent.
Laving her pussy with more broad licks, I bring her higher and higher until she’s moaning with every breath.
That’s it, sweetness. Now.
Rising, I grip her slender ankles, hold her sexy legs straight up beside my head, rub her stocking-covered legs on my cheeks while I oh-so-fucking-slowly sink my poor suffering cock into her heat.
Her snug velvet accepts me easily this time, then contracts around me. I groan, nip at her legs.
“You’re perfect, Cherie. Silky heaven.” It’s all I can do to be gentle, knowing her channel is still virginally narrow and tender.
She arches what little she can. In this position, though, she’s at my mercy. All it takes are a few grinding thrusts to take her over the edge.
Watching her sweet face as she comes, moaning my name, her pussy undulating tightly on my rod, I can’t hold back. Not this time.
I spread her legs as wide as my arms go. Holding on to those legs,
I invade her to the hilt, fucking hammer into her fast, hard and deep.
“I’m sorry, mi ninfa.” I mumble as I completely lose it to my wolf.
Hot. Wet. Snug. Her pussy made solely for my cock, my cock made explicitly for her pussy.
“I’m sorry, sweetness.” I keep apologizing, hoping I’m not hurting her, but at the same time unable to stop myself.
Then, the curls of a second climax gushes through her pussy — a powerful pulsing wetness that grips my cock like a vice, gripping me so fucking tight, I’m certain I’ll have a bruise. She cries out hers as the orgasm of my life slams me. I shoot my seed, roaring like the beast I am with every wave that spills out of me and into her.
On the cusp of passing out, insane though it may be, my mind conjures a picture of what our child’s face might look like. I push the last of my come as deep as I can inside her, irrationally willing my boys to swim fast to the target.
Blood thunders in my ears. I see stars. I can’t breathe. Kneeling on the floor before I fall, I drape her legs over my shoulders and lay my head on her belly. And, I blackout.
Cherie’s soft voice calls to me. “Victor.” Her fingers comb through my hair. “Hey. Are you okay?” Not sure how long I was out, I breathe deep.
I should be asking you that, mi ninfa.
“I’m not sure,” I gasp.
“Hmmm. That was phenomenal.” She breathes hard, too.
“Earthshaking,” I whisper.
After a several long minutes of recuperation, I lift my head slightly to look at her.
“Are you okay, Cherie?”
She smiles. “I’ve never been better.”
Thank goodness I didn’t hurt her.
Sexual Healing cues up on the iPod. Both of us chuckle.
Still shaky, I make myself stand, scoot her further onto the bed and crawl in beside her.
Lying here with my dream girl’s head on my chest, humming along to Marvin Gaye, a hand tangled in her hair, my brain registers that she called me babe. Not in a moment of passion. It was a greeting from Cherie, who, knowing it was my bed, sprawled across it lying in wait to seduce me. No mistake. No accidental lover in the dark. This was deliberate with the lights on.
Accidental Lover (Wolven Moon Book 3) Page 17