by Ke, Alexis
But what if it wasn’t?
The soft buzzing of the alarm snapped him back to the present and announced the arrival of his first and hopefully his only appointment. After an encounter with Afryca all other woman would pale. His heartbeat escalated and slammed against his ribs. He really needed to get it together. If he didn’t he was going to shoot a load right there in his pants. That had not happened to him since he was a raving, craving teenager. He blew out a breath, thought about the taste, and the smell, and the feel of Afryca Then he moved toward the door leading to the Shadow Box.
He peered thought the one way window. There she was, sitting on the chair, her back stiff, and her lips in a slight smile. His dream. Even though she wore a black masquerade mask that covered the top half of her face he knew from the shape of her mouth, the small dent in her chin and the set of her ears that it couldn’t be anyone but her. He glanced toward the ceiling and shot up a prayer of endurance. He didn’t want her to know it was him. He didn’t want to scare her or make her self-conscious. If he had known about this side of her, the secret part of her she’d kept from him he’d have given more of himself. And he’d have taken more.
He grabbed his mask, slid it over his eyes and slid the door open. He paused in the doorway, leaning his tall frame against the doorjamb. He swallowed past the dry lump clogging his throat.
“Love, are you ready?”
Afryca didn’t answer.
He moved his gaze from her eyes to her mouth, and then to her throat. He watched her swallow several times before he spoke again. “What is your pleasure?”
She was nervous. Good. That meant this wasn’t something she did often. He knew he’d never seen her there before, but that didn’t mean she had not visited some other club. The thought of another man touching her stabbed at his gut, flipped his stomach and sent a wave of anger up his spine. But he could not think about that now. Now he’d only think about her and the things he was going to do to her and for her.
“Is this your first time here?” He drew the words out slow, seductive, and his heart soared when her breath hitched and she slowly nodded her head. “Excellent. Then I will give you my special attention.”
The smile that curved her lips almost made him pull his mask off, and reveal himself. He wanted nothing more than to have her in every way known to man. He wanted to make her his because he knew he already belonged to her.
He strolled over to her, stopped just short of her and inhaled, trying to capture her scent. Saliva pooled in his mouth. Her cologne, a soft tropical blend wafted up his nostrils to his brain. He’d never smelled it on her before, but he loved it. It reminded him of sunshine and the ocean, fresh and beaconing. This was going to be hard. Probably one of the hardest things he had ever done in his entire life, but he was going to love every single second.
“I want you to relax, enjoy and believe I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” In one swift move he lifted her into his arms and cradled her warm soft body against his chest. Damn she felt so good. “Can you trust me?”
She rapidly nodded.
“Good. I’m going to make you feel so good. I don’t want you to hold anything back. Do you understand?”
“Ye-yes,” her voice cracked.
“If at any time you want me to stop you just say so.”
Afryca closed her eyes behind the mask, rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. On normal occasions he’d ask the woman if she wanted to sit in the chair or lie in the bed. Not this time. He wanted her sprawled out on the bed. He wanted her to have room to writhe and squirm under his touch. He wanted to see if her body bucked when she came. He laid her down in the middle of the bed and sat beside her.
* * * * *
She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe and she knew her heart had stopped beating the moment her almost-mystery man stepped so quietly into the room. God he was gorgeous. His sun bronzed skin. His muscled chest that begged her to lick it. His lips. Damn he had wonderful lips. All she wanted was to feel them against her skin. Immediately she wondered how much she should participate. She wished she’d asked. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the scent of him. Oh yes, it was Simon. She’d embedded his scent into her brain a long, long time ago. Sure, it just might be possible that two men had an almost identical scar but no way could they smell the same, too.
A sigh escaped her throat before she could stop it. She should have been embarrassed. She wasn’t. And then he spoke. He whispered something but she didn’t understand him. For some reason she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Was he talking in a foreign language? Was that French? When did Simon learn French? Nonetheless, no other man had his deep bass voice, the voice that would charm the panties off any woman. It was him. All doubt fled her mind.
“Les choses que je veux faire à toi…" He smiled, leaned down and placed is mouth to the side of his neck. She almost came right then and there. “The things I want to do to you…” He barely touched her and that tiniest touch sent a wave of sensations through her body, so strong that the room swarmed around in her head. She closed her eyes tightly together.
“No, love. Keep your eyes open. I want you to see what I am doing to you. The things I will do to you. Les choses que je ferai à toi.” He touched the lapel of her robe and she stiffened. “Oh, love. Don’t be afraid. Shall I stop?”
She opened her mouth to say no and only air floated out so she shook her head.
“Good. I have so much more to do to you.” He slid the plush fabric from her shoulders and she thought she heard him sigh, or was it her? She wasn’t sure because her heart thrummed so loud in her ears she thought he might hear.
He settled his shaded eyes on her face for the briefest of seconds and then tilted his head and pressed his mouth between her breasts. Ever so slowly he delivered butterfly kisses in a trail from her breast to her belly button. He paused, slid his tongue around the rim of her navel and then continued south. Oh, God! What was he doing to her? Everywhere he touched it awakened a million sleeping nerve endings—nerve endings she thought would never feel the touch of his body.
He blew a hot breath across the thin patch of hair at the top of her pubis and she thought she was going to go mad. If he had this effect on her when he hadn’t even really touched her yet, what was going to happen when he finally did?
Ohhh, that.
Her body jackknifed off the bed only to have his strong hands hold her in place. His tongue flicked across her throbbing nub, shooting balls of fire up to the pit of her stomach. Her breath rushed out of her lungs, becoming ragged. The room was spinning on its axis. She couldn’t stand it. His tongue separated her moist folds and slid between them. When he moaned it shot her into outer space.
Her honey gushed from her and he lapped it up as thirstily as a traveler across the desert might lap up a glass of water. Was he faking his thirst or was he enjoying this as much as she was? She didn’t know and she told herself she didn’t care, but deep in her heart she hoped he was. To have Simon enjoy her body gave new meaning to her life. Oh sure, loving someone for her mind was all right, and she wanted that, but she needed more. He spoke more words in French and now the spasms didn’t creep up her body from her toes to her head, they ran full force, knocking her into another realm of time and space.
Immediately she knew nothing would be the same between her and Simon. She wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes with a straight face. She’d have to change jobs or go bankrupt spending all of her money driving to Northern Virginia to visit the club. If this was the only way she could have him then so be it. Again her body tensed. It was ever so slightly, but she knew he felt it. He paused in his assault and kissed the inner sides of her thighs.
“No, don’t think. Just enjoy.”
“I know. I am.”
“Je sais que je suis.”
Without pause her body relaxed to his soothing words. Simon had always had that effect on her.
“That’s right,” his voice purred against her skin. He
bowed his head and again his mouth started working on her body. His fingers separated her folds as his tongue jetted in and out of her heat. The ripples of pleasure built slowly, rising gradually again until she knew her body was going to explode. Then he stopped. He paused over her and blew on her clit as if that would put out the fire raging between her thighs, in her belly and throughout every nerve ending in her body. As the sensations abated he flicked his tongue across her clit. He twirled his tongue and flicked it, twirl and flick, and twirl and flick.
“Oh God! Schadenfreude!”
He stopped, blinked up at her, then captured her nub between his lips and sucked. And then without warning he pressed a finger into her core, teasing it against the side of her inner walls and sending her over the ledge to spiral out of control.
Her breathing ceased. Her heartbeat escalated. Her mind snapped. She’d gone blind and prisms of light danced across her line of vision. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Seconds passed, maybe minutes, before she could open her eyes.
And he was gone.
* * * * *
It was Afryca. He’d had to get out of there. She was killing him. Simon pulled the mask from his face, tossed it onto the table and flopped down in the chair. He ran his hands across his face and through his hair.
Every time she moaned, each squirm she made, he thought he was going to go mad. At first he wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was her. Sure, the way her eyes stared at him though the mask, the way her breath rushed out of her lungs reminded him of her, but the mind is a powerful thing. It played games and made you think things were one way when in actuality they were another.
Ecstatic hopes alternated with nagging thoughts that maybe it wasn’t Afryca after all, then she blurted that stupid schaden word and his world fell apart. Schaden-fucken-freude is how he teased her with it. Some word she’d read about or heard from her father after his stint in Germany always made him laugh. Schadenfreude. She only said it when she was excited or mad. Taking joy in the suffering of others.
And now he was the one who was suffering. The way his cock strained his pants, surely he was he was in much more pain than she was. He wanted to snatch his mask off and show her he was the one with his face between her legs, but he couldn’t. What if it frightened her? What if she didn’t want him to know she visited the club? What if she never wanted to see him again? No way could he disrupt her illusion that she was there in total anonymity.
He stepped over to the sink, splashing cold water on his face and not caring that it ran down his over-heated chest. A soft smile curved the corners of his mouth. Oh yeah, he took a lot of joy in making her suffer. Hell, he’d suffered for years just being around her.
Chapter Seven
Afryca crept into her office Monday morning and locked the door behind her, her head still swimming with the events of the weekend. She wasn’t ready to see anyone, especially not Simon. She hadn’t talked much on the way home that night. She knew Tess was a little worried but she lied between her teeth and swore she was okay. She was not okay. She would never be okay for the rest of her life.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Tess had asked.
“Um hum.” She could barely get even those non-words out. She didn’t know that to think or what to do. When he’d touched her the way he did, the way she’d dreamed about for so many years her body had erupted. She’d never in her life had such a strong orgasm, didn’t know it was possible.
Her body still felt the effects of his tongue twirling a hot line across her clit and his finger, oh God, his finger was the destruction of all thought and breath. She squirmed in her seat, stretched her legs out and squeezed her thigh muscles. Soft ripples, echoes of the best orgasmic pleasure she’s ever felt, fluttered across her clit, making it throb with need and dampening her panties.
She’d wanted to pull her mask off, show him it was her he was pleasuring but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. He was there anonymously. Undercover. He didn’t want anyone to know he was there. He definitely didn’t want her to know. If he did, he would have told her. Wouldn’t he?
Why had he left so abruptly? Was it that bad for him? He’d seemed to enjoy it when she watched him with that other woman. Was she that unappealing? She thought she’d heard him moan, and it had sounded so erotic, but maybe her ears had played a dirty trick on her. What was she going to do? She couldn’t leave her job, although the thought did enter her mind. But that was ridiculous. It was almost as crazy as thinking she could have something with Simon. Dreams were dreams and she had to face the facts. The only relationship she would ever have with him would be at the club.
A soft rap on the door snatched her back to reality. She glanced at the clock, wondering how long she’d been locked in her office. Time always escaped her when Simon was involved. Damn, what was she going to do?
She stepped over to the door, paused with her hand on the knob, sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and blew it out. She blinked, rotated her head to loosen the tight muscles in her neck, and hoped her poker face was in place. Swinging the door open, she waved Tess into the office, relieved it wasn’t Simon.
Tess locked the door, grabbed her hand and tugged her to the chairs facing her desk. Pushing her down in one, she took the other.
“Now you’re going to tell me what the hell’s going on.” She held up her hand to stop Afryca when she opened her mouth to object. “Don’t even try to lie to me, and don’t tell me nothing.” Tess patted her hand, soothing some of the tension. “Look. I know you and I know when something’s wrong so spill it.”
How much could she tell Tess? They weren’t supposed to discuss the club outside of the club; however, Tess was Tess, her best friend and a frequent visitor to the club. She should be able to confide in her. Afryca closed her eyes and thought for a minute.
“Look. I had a great time, really I did.” She stared at the far wall of the office, avoiding Tess’ hard gaze. “It’s just, it’s just it was too good and I…” her voice trailed off. “He was very familiar.”
Tess straightened in the chair. “You think you know him. Wow. Afryca, look at me.”
She shook her head. She knew if she looked at Tess she’d know everything, every detail of what happened.
“Did he hurt you?” Anger laced Tess’ voice.
“No, on the contrary.” Maybe her heart. “I was wonderful. I don’t know what to do.”
“About?”
“Do I go back or just leave it the way it is, a great memory?”
“What do you want to do? Who do you think it is? Do you think you can go back knowing he might be an acquaintance?
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think so.”
“Well girl, you gotta do more than think so. Who the hell do you think it is? Is it someone I know?”
Afryca diverted her gaze to the floor and started worrying the fabric at the hem of her blouse. She couldn’t tell Tess. Her mouth wouldn’t form the words. She had promised herself not to betray Simon’s ruse.
“OMG.” Tess shot up out of the chair, walked over to the door and tested the knob, making sure it was locked. “It’s Simon isn’t it?”
“Please don’t tell.” She buried her face in her hands and rocked back and forth. “What am I going to do?”
“So he doesn’t know you know. Are you sure? I thought you wore a mask in the Shadow Box.”
“I could tell. Some things a girl knows, even if we’ve never been that intimate.”
“How sure are you?” Tess flopped back on the chair and stretched her legs out.
“At least ninety-eight to ninety-nine percent.” Afryca laughed at how ridiculously analytical her words sounded. Tess joined her.
“Sounds to me like you’ve got yourself a problem. What are you going to do? Tell him?”
“Oh God no. I don’t even know if I can look him in the face today.” Although she’d love to go back. She wanted to visit the club everyday if it meant feeling Simon’s mouth on her body, his fingers in her core. S
he shivered inward from the thought.
“Are you sure he doesn’t know it’s you? No, I guess he couldn’t. He would have said, done something.”
“This makes everything so complicated.”
“It was complicated before you even got in the car to go there.” Tess stood, walked over to the door. She paused before pulling the door open.
“What the hell is he doing there anyway? Even better, what the hell are you doing there?
“Tess pulled the door open, stepped out into the hall and turned her head back toward Afryca. “Who do you think told me about it, gave me my first invite?” She closed the door before Afryca could respond, leaving her with her mouth gaping wide open like a damn fool.
* * * * *
If he hadn’t had so much on his calendar he would have stayed home. No way was he ready to face Afryca after the way she made him feel Saturday night. One more night jerking off in the shower shouldn’t have made a difference but it did. Now he had her scent in his brain and her taste on his tongue. He would never be able to satisfy himself again. Damn, why’d she have to come to the club? It was bad enough knowing she was a floor away from him, but now, now knowing intimate details of her was murder. Throughout the night he heard her moans and short erratic pants of breath. He smelled her cinnamon cream and tasted it on his lips every time he slid his tongue across them. Even now his cock throbbed from the memory. He wanted nothing more than to slid his engorged shaft between those heavenly folds, knowing she would welcome him and meet him thrust for glorious thrust, pump for glorious pump.
No man should have to go through such hell when it came to a woman. He glanced down at his pants and the slight tenting of the fabric. Damn, no way was he going to be able to leave his office like that. He shook his head, closed his eyes and willed it to behave.