“Do you always answer the door like this?” he asked.
“No!”
“Then you should – it’s very sexy.” His smile faded as he traced the line of my neck and followed a solitary lingering droplet of water downwards.
The towel slipped even further and a pink nipple peeked out teasingly. My body ached and every nerve ending was screaming out for attention. But Tom seemed in no rush to finish what he had started. Instead he clearly had every intention of teasing me beyond all levels of human endurance.
Carefully watching my reaction, he drew a circle around the pink crest that was aching for his touch. He pushed me backwards until I was resting against the cool wall of my hallway. With a slow smile, he tugged the towel lower, revealing both breasts to his gaze.
“I like your all-over tan,” he told me.
“I’ve been working very hard on it,” I replied with a gasp when he squeezed my breast with one hand, before pinching the nipple painfully.
“And I’ve been very hard…watching you working hard on it,” he growled, before dipping his head and taking one taut nipple between his teeth, tugging on it gently.
I moaned incoherently. He had me now and he knew it. I could tell from the triumphant smile that lit up his handsome face as he looked up at me. The towel fell lower and he yanked it away from my trembling body.
The hallway was in semi darkness, but light filtered in from the kitchen and living area, casting a pale glow across my skin. Despite the air conditioning, I was burning up with heat, my body damp with excitement and anticipation.
I could feel the ridge of his erection through the rough denim of his shorts, the hard length of him pressing into my thigh as he continued to suckle my breasts. My pelvis rocked against him and he slid one hand between my legs, finding me wet and ready for him.
Then he dropped to the floor and I felt his tongue lap me, there, sending me into another place, a place of ecstasy and delirium. If it weren’t for the wall, I would have collapsed into a pool on the floor. But instead I allowed his arms to hold my thighs while his mouth teased me and pushed me ever closer to where I needed to be.
He had talent. That was undeniable. My orgasm hit me hard and I was left shaking as the pleasure crashed over me in a wave of bliss. My fingers gripped his hair, clenching hard enough to cause him to wince with pain, but I didn’t care.
Eventually the feelings subsided enough for me to be able to focus again. He slid back up my trembling body and kissed me, pushing his tongue between my lips forcefully. I could taste myself on him and kissed him back, grabbing his hips and rubbing against his erection.
He reacted with a low groan and I smiled inwardly. Now that the edge had been taken off my arousal, I was ready to tease him as he had teased me. Two could play that game after all.
I pushed him away and threaded my fingers through his, leading him towards the living area. A low leather couch was positioned along the back wall and I manoeuvred him carefully towards it. When his legs touched the edge, I pushed him so that he fell backwards.
As he watched me with a tense expression, I climbed astride his thighs. I ran my hands across the light dusting of hair on his chest, enjoying the way he shivered beneath my touch. His tiny nipples were hard and I pinched them, causing him to groan out loud.
“Teasing bitch,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Moi?” I replied with a low, throaty laugh.
He grabbed my waist, pulling me close for another kiss and I momentarily forgot that I was supposed to be teasing him when another surge of lust consumed me with sizzling fire.
Once more he found my tits with his lips and I arched my back, enjoying the sweet caress of his tongue. Still my hands continued to explore his body through the thin cotton tee shirt. When he broke away from me, I took the opportunity to pull his tee shirt off, wanting to feel his skin against mine.
He was tanned, although not as brown as me. Broad shoulders combined with strong arms and abs - pretty much my perfect man. I hated skinny men and Tom was far from skinny. But I itched to see more of him so I reluctantly moved until I was able to unbutton his shorts.
The tension in him was palpable as I unzipped them and reached inside. When my hand touched the throbbing shaft of his cock, he closed his eyes and groaned softly. Moisture coated my hand and I licked my lips at the thought of tasting him.
“Stand up,” I ordered huskily.
He obeyed instantly and I pulled the denim over his hips until his shorts fell at his feet and his thick cock sprang free. Small drops of pre-cum glistened on the end like pearls and I flicked my tongue out to capture some. Tom hissed as a shudder wracked his body, but he made no move to grab me. He seemed happy to let me take the lead now.
I took him in my mouth slowly, allowing his length to slide between my lips like a delicious Popsicle. Gradually I became accustomed to his girth and he reached the back of my throat. This was pure bliss. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done this and enjoyed it so much.
Already I was throbbing dully between my thighs, my body anxiously anticipating Tom’s cock filling me up. But I wanted to savour this moment - to extract the maximum amount of pleasure from the sensation of his cock in my mouth.
My fingers crept downwards and found my dripping pussy and I moaned around Tom’s cock, the vibrations of the sound rippling through him and making him weep pre-cum all the more. I could feel him pulsing as I slid my lips up and down his shaft, swirling my tongue across the sensitive tip.
All the while my fingers stroked my clit, pushing me closer to another climax. When it came, I released Tom’s cock and cried out helplessly. Almost immediately he grabbed my arm and flung my body over the arm of the sofa. I felt him part my thighs roughly and then he was inside me, filling me in one slick movement.
I could do nothing but grip the leather as he reached beneath our bodies and joined his fingers with mine, touching me as he fucked me. Sweat pooled on my skin as I felt him stroking my inner walls, stroking every sensitive inch of me, driving me utterly insane.
My second orgasm had never really faded away. Tom fucking me merely extended the ripples of pleasure that swamped me. I was left reeling as he pounded into me relentlessly, before he shuddered and thrust hard, digging his fingers into the flesh of my hip painfully as he came too.
Our erratic breathing blended with the sound of pool filter that drifted in through the open patio door. I was dimly aware of his cock sliding wetly from me and then he pulled me upright, spinning me around so that I faced him.
He kissed me, gently this time, the urgency gone, and I melted against him like ice cream in the sun. I tried to remember why I had thought this was a terrible idea – and failed miserably. Nothing this good could possibly be wrong…could it?
* * * *
Sunlight was hitting me squarely in the face when I opened my eyes the following morning. For a moment I smiled as I remembered the events of the previous night, but when I stretched my arm out, the bed was cool beside me and I tried to ignore the pang of hurt that ripped me apart.
He had been there when I finally fell asleep, our bodies locked together. He had also been there when I turned back to him a few hours later, eager for more love. Conversation had not exactly been high on my list of priorities, but I had assumed that he would still be here in my bed this morning.
Apparently he hadn’t felt the same. That stung. More than I would have expected.
I curled up on my side and closed my eyes again. It did me no good to analyse the situation – if he had chosen to leave then I had to accept he had only ever been after some casual fun.
My flight was booked for three days time anyway, so soon I would be back in the real world. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. In the meantime, he knew where I was if he wanted me. I was too old to play games and I sure as hell wasn’t going to chase him.
* * * *
“Oh he’s flown home,” Jane told me when I casually enquired where Tom had disappeared to that e
vening.
I hadn’t intended to, but when I bumped into her outside, the words slipped from my mouth before I could prevent them.
“Family problems,” she said with much rolling of eyes as she unpacked her shopping. “That bloody wife of his, I never took to her,” she fumed as oranges escaped from the paper bag.
Mindlessly I picked up the stray fruit and passed them to her.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully. “We’re going to a nice restaurant on the harbour tonight if you’d like to join us?” she asked as she closed the door on the car.
I shook my head, allowing my hair to shield my face from her quizzical expression.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I said politely. “I need to pack.” I had just made an instant decision to catch the next flight home.
“Oh never mind,” Jane said. “Do come and say goodbye before you leave!”
I assured her I would as I hurried back into the blissful tranquillity of my villa. Or at least it would have been tranquil if not for the scorching memories of Tom that assailed me every time I closed my eyes.
Damn that man. I should have known better than to trust another member of the male species.
* * * *
“What’s this meeting we have scheduled for half eleven?” I asked Chris, my business partner. My desk was overflowing with new work and judging by the list of things that needed doing, it was going to take me weeks to catch up.
“Tell me, did you actually check your fucking email while you were away?”
I blinked innocently at him and decided to ignore his bad temper. “Actually no. I was on holiday, remember?”
He swore profusely and I made a mental note to book him in for some ‘anger management’ classes.
“Well if you had bothered to keep in the loop, you’d have known about the new brochure I’ve instructed the graphic design agency to come up with. You’d also know about the five new contracts I have taken on in your absence.”
“Nice to see you’ve been busy,” I grinned.
“Well guess what,” he said gleefully, “It’s my turn to piss off on holiday now so I’m leaving for Mauritius at the end of next week. Two weeks in the sun, shagging Erika senseless, will do me the power of good.”
I was not so amused now. “Hey that’s not fair!” I grumbled as I grabbed my briefcase and headed for the conference room. “I’ll end up working twenty hour days while you’re away!”
“Tough shit,” he said, still grinning widely.
We both turned to greet our visitor.
“Stella, this is Tom, the photographer. The agency has hired him to do the images for the brochure,” Chris said briskly.
I wasn’t sure who was more taken aback – Tom or I.
* * *
My contribution to our subsequent discussion about the artistic direction of the embryonic brochure was minimal. Chris repeatedly threw curious glances in my direction for it was completely out of character for me to be so passive during a meeting, but I ignored him.
Instead I drew complicated doodles on my notepad and sent repeated subliminal messages to Chris to hurry the fuck up and end this nightmare. Not that he was listening. Unfortunately, much to my annoyance, Chris insisted on going over every last detail of the pictures he felt were vital for our brochure.
“What kind of shots would you like of the two of you?” Tom was asking when I tuned back into the conversation.
“Oh informal I think – nothing too stuffy,” Chris said thoughtfully. “We’re not that kind of business.”
“I have a few ideas on that score,” Tom said. I saw him looking at me and I had a sudden recollection of the pictures he had taken of me beside my pool.
My pencil snapped loudly in my hand as I dug it viciously into the pad and Chris turned towards me with irritation written all over his face. “Do you have useful anything to add to this?” he snapped crossly.
“No,” I snapped back. “You’re doing a grand job. In fact, I think I’ll adjourn to my office and check my email.”
He stared at me in disbelief as I grabbed my stuff and strode out of the room. Once in the privacy of my office I poured myself a coffee and counted to fifty. I knew I was being utterly childish but I couldn’t help it.
I took a seat at my desk and buried my head behind my monitor. The idea of disappearing for the afternoon was tempting, but I knew Chris would kill me if I did. Besides, I had too much work to even consider such a move.
So I opened up my email and began to work my way through all the correspondence I had ignored whilst I was away. By the time I had answered several enquiries and dealt with a few problems, an hour had ticked by and I was beginning to relax again.
A knock on my door made me jump and I looked up. “Come in,” I said gruffly, expecting to see Chris with a flea up his backside again.
It was Tom. “Can we talk?” he asked. His blue eyes stared at me intently and I shifted uneasily in my leather chair.
“Like about what the hell you’re doing in my office?” I replied bluntly, my anger at his disappearance from my bed resurfacing with a vengeance.
“You’re mad with me,” he said perceptively.
“No, not at all,” I lied.
He pushed the door shut and walked across towards my desk. “I’m sorry for buggering off like I did – trust me I really didn’t want to.” He raked a hand through his dark hair and looked at me with something I couldn’t quite interpret.
“That’s okay - your mum explained that you had problems at home. Your wife, she said.” I made sure I placed extra emphasis on the word wife. Then I proceeded to type a reply to another email.
“For fucks sake!” Tom swore vociferously.
Maybe he can join Chris in those anger management classes, I thought nastily.
“Stella, my dear mum didn’t exactly give you the whole picture.” He still looked annoyed.
“And what cosy picture would that be?”
“My wife is soon to be my ex wife. We split up four years ago, but she has only just agreed to a divorce. The reason I left as I did was that our daughter was taken into hospital with appendicitis. Thank God she’s okay now.”
Now I felt truly bad although it still didn’t make complete sense.
“Then why didn’t your mother tell me that?”
“Because when I got Helen’s voicemail, I just left them a quick note with no details and drove like a maniac to the airport – the last thing I needed was mum and dad rushing home too. I rang them that evening and explained everything, but I guess by then you had me pegged as a no-good charmer whose only aim was to seduce sexy ladies before dumping them.”
I looked at my monitor and realised I had just blithely accepted a ludicrously low offer on a job which would probably have cost us our profits for the next year. Hastily I deleted my ill considered text before Chris lynched me.
Before I returned my attention back to Tom again I thought over everything he had just told me. Maybe I had jumped to the wrong conclusions. It was a little unfair to judge all men by the morals and behaviour of my darling ex husband.
“I never said you were no good,” I told him softly. My anger was melting away and I was left with a sudden sense that maybe all was not lost. Tom and I had been far more than great sex and I was very happy that he felt the same way.
“That’s a relief,” he grinned. He walked around the edge of my desk and taking my hands, he pulled me to my feet.
“Leaving you in bed was the last thing I wanted to do,” he murmured as his arms slid around my waist.
“You have an awful lot of making up to do,” I warned him before he kissed me lingeringly.
When we broke apart I was breathless.
“How about I pick you up from work later and we can make a start on that making up?”
Naturally I agreed.
I figured that spending lots of time with the photographer was the best way to ensure the quality of any photographs of me that might appear in our brochure. Chris was ra
ther confused, however, when he saw me leaving the building late that afternoon with Tom’s arm around my waist. But he apparently thought better of suggesting I had schizophrenic tendencies.
Besides, if I was to have final say on the art work for the brochure - or so he politely informed me as I was leaving - he needed to be sure that I didn’t pick the most unflattering photographs of him for inclusion. Not that I would do that of course. Ha. Ha.
The End
ABOUT RACHELLE LE MONNIER
Rachelle Le-Monnier spent her formative years devouring a varied diet of romance and horror novels, whilst dreaming of true love ever after. Then she grew up and realized the happy endings were strictly fictional and hunky heroes were sadly lacking in her corner of the world. Not one to be daunted by cruel twists of fate and disastrous dates a plenty, she writes her own happy endings these days - in between juggling kids, work, fitness training and keeping her psychotic cat happy. When she isn’t running herself ragged, Rachelle enjoys foreign language films, dark chocolate and arguing with her teenage daughter. You can reach her at www.rachellemonnier.com
Peeping Tom Page 3