A Night At The Wesley
By Vallory Vance
Published by Vallory’s Calliope
Copyright 2012 Vallory Vance
Connie Atkinson marched into the restaurant of the Wesley Hotel in downtown Detroit, a frown etched into her face. She was in need of a glass of wine, preferably something dark to match her mood. She cleared her throat to signal the hostess stationed at the entrance.
The young woman didn’t move, seemingly more interested in twirling the heavily highlighted tendrils of her blonde ponytail around her fingers and batting her eyelashes at the admiring bartender than acting as a hostess. Connie cleared her throat again.
No response.
“Miss!” She stomped her booted heel so that it echoed causing several patrons to lift their otherwise disinterested heads in her direction.
Goldilocks looked at her with an air of annoyance and straightened the rounded band of what must be the hotel’s required uniform. Connie doubted that the young woman would have opted for the white lacy collar and contrasting light-weight pale green blouse on a blustery Friday night.
“Table for one?” Goldi grabbed a menu and turned toward a tiny table near the bar.
“I want the booth by the window.”
Goldi spun around and twisted her mouth into a condescending grin. “Booths are reserved for parties of three or more.”
“Then I’d like to speak to your manager,” Connie said icily. Having worked in the service industry to pay her way through college and law school, she knew that there were rules employees followed. However after being grounded in Detroit and missing the first four hours of her vacation in Vail, she was in no mood to be amenable.
Goldi blinked back in astonishment. In a room full of business travelers, mostly male, Connie doubted that the hostess had met with an ounce of resistance to her clipped orders.
“That won’t be necessary.” Goldi dipped her head, offering an insincere smile. “Right this way.”
Connie quickly followed Goldi’s long strides to the bay of large windows surrounding several unoccupied circular booths. Sweetie, you can’t outpace me, she thought stifling a laugh.
Slipping around the edge of a black lacquered table, she bounced down on the springy pink leather cushions. The view was the saving grace of the Wesley – the lights of downtown Detroit twinkled in a swirling white haze. Tiny pockets of snow glistened in the nooks and crannies of the beveled glass and a soft whistle of wind floated around her like the melody from a much loved piano. The perfect backdrop for relaxing in front of a roaring fire in the lounge of the Mountain Lion Resort and Spa…in Vail.
Tonight she should have been enjoying all the luxuries that the villa-inspired resort had to offer including a private masseuse and a slice of the decadent Death by Chocolate triple tiered cake topped with mocha ganache. Instead she would have to endure a meal in the cavernous dining hall sparsely outfitted with cafeteria style tables and darkening cream walls lined with artwork reminiscent of the Miami Vice era. “Ugh,” she groaned. “May I have a wine list, please?”
Connie looked up to notice a quick roll of the young woman’s eyes. Well, at least the Wesley has fantastic service.
Pulling out her phone, she speed dialed Jessica. After a few rings, Jessica answered with a snorting laugh. Then there was a metallic clang followed by muffled, garbled noises.
Those bitches are already drunk.
“So you think you’ll get here tomorrow?” Monique finally retrieved the phone from a fumbling Jessica.
“Weather reports are saying that planes can leave mid-morning to early afternoon so I should be there sometime tomorrow.” In the background, she could hear music, Jessica’s tinny giggle, and a man’s husky laugh. Connie sighed involuntarily.
Where was Goldi with her drink menu?
“Well you better get here. ‘Cause they’re gonna find this heifer during the spring thaw. She acts like this is her first…”
“Connie, these guysss… from Brasssil bought us drinthks. They are sooo…” Jessica’s words slurred together and the clanging sounded again.
Monique reacted quicker this time and was on the line within a beat. “Bye. Let me get her out of here before I’m trying to stop a strip tease.”
“See you tomorrow.” She let out a small laugh. Jessica could be quite a character once she’d had a few drinks, but Monique was definitely the person to handle her. At least Jess wasn’t crying…yet.
Connie jammed the phone back into her purse and scanned the crowd. A room of other business travelers gathered at the bar or hunched over cell phones at tiny tables. They were stuck for the night in the lackluster Wesley and not an interesting one in the bunch.
If she hadn’t been held over taking the deposition of her client’s husband, she could have had a darkly tanned Brazilian with thick black hair and a sexy accent plying her with potent beverages. Only the thought of breaking her client’s prenup could atone for this disruption of her plans.
For the first time since her divorce last year, she’d taken a break from her role as lead attorney in a family law practice for a much needed vacation with her friends. She groaned, turning her attention to the list of cheap wines.
“Ma’am?” Goldi set a yellowish brown cocktail on the table.
“I didn’t order…” Connie’s voice trailed into nothingness as she stared at the vaguely familiar drink. She lifted it to her nose and was immediately accosted by the strong aroma of tequila. “What is this called?”
Goldi blushed. “Umm…A Long…”
“A Long Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against A Wall!” Connie howled in disbelief unable to contain the piercing laugh that bubbled from her mouth.
“It’s okay, sweetie.” She waved an obviously mortified Goldi away and reached for her phone. Thumbing through her contacts, she found Monique. Only her former college roommate would appreciate the humor of some ass using a lame pick-up technique reminiscent of their partying days in Memphis.
“I was going to be really embarrassed if that wasn’t you.”
A hand slid over her shoulder, halting her call to Monique, and Connie spun around on the slick leather seat to look up into the most beautiful brown eyes she’d ever seen. They glowed as if backlit by candles. At least that was what she’d written countless times in her journal.
“Noah.” She breathed out, too stunned to say anything else. He pulled her into a tight hug and memories of college swept through her with the speed and heat of lightening. In an instant a nineteen year old girl’s yearning for a study partner, who didn’t think of her in that way, was awakened from a long slumber.
“Wow, Connie. You look…fantastic.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, noticing that his eyes lingered longer than was appropriate at the deeply curved neckline of her sweater.
At her request, he slid into the opposite curve of the booth and her gloomy thoughts were abruptly uplifted. This night might not turn out so badly, she thought as she eased back into the tufted cushions.
She was no longer the shy girl too afraid to ask for what she wanted. And right now in lieu of a Brazilian buying her a drink in Vail, the object of a school girl crush would do just fine.
She clasped his left hand in hers, lightly brushing her thumb over his ring finger. No indentation!
“So Noah, what have you been up to?”
~~~
Dinner was passing too quickly and before he knew it, their server was placing a brownie topped with hot fudge and vanilla ice cream on the table. Connie took a bite, pulling the spoon through her full lips with a low moan of delight. “Mmm.”
“Good?” he asked, blowing out the breath that had stuck in his throat.
“De-li-cious” she whispered, h
olding each syllable in her lovely mouth before releasing it like a flamed arrow to his crotch. He shifted uncomfortably in the groaning, unforgiving booth.
All night, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her. Brief glances had become practical leers as he struggled to concentrate on their conversation. While she looked much the same as she had during their days at Vanderbilt - a slender pretty face, the color of dark caramel, bright hazel eyes and lips that had been too sexy for the shy pre-law student. Right now though, those plum glossed lips were curled up into a breathtaking smile that fit perfectly with the woman offering him a spoonful of hot fudge and melting ice cream.
“I don’t like chocolate.” He managed to say, distracted by the crush of her breasts on his arm as she leaned in closer with the spoon.
“Pity”, she crooned, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Noah grinned. He wasn’t planning on missing anything.
Her seemingly innocent flirting had driven him crazy throughout dinner. She had stroked his wrists while he talked and slid her hand down his thigh when they laughed about their small pre-law group. Now scooted close to him, she swirled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. The push of his erection against his zipper was impossible to ignore and he inched away from the incendiary heat of her body in hope of relief.
“You didn’t touch your drink.” He carefully picked up the melting cocktail and took a deep swallow.
“I never liked that.” Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin up in an apparent challenge. “I think you were thinking of either Heather or April.”
It had been her. On the night he was going to stop pretending that he thought of her as just a study partner, Andy had swept in with the drink. Immobile and getting drunker, he had watched Connie giggling and being felt up by the law school grad. “This is the drink Andy brought you that night at Topper’s. Remember? A few days before graduation.”
“Andy.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of her ex-husband and her smile briefly disappeared. “I knew there was a reason I couldn’t remember it.”
She grinned up at him and slid her hand down his thigh again. “Excuse me, will you?”
Her pinkie brushed over his zipper and he drew in his breath sharply between his teeth.
“Ohhh, sorry about that.” she slid out of the booth, an impish grin creasing her pretty face.
Fuck! His erection was throbbing and he twisted down into the booth to rub his hand down the front of his tented pants. Watching the sway of her hips in her tight fitting black jeans, was doing nothing for the painful ache; he increased the pressure of his hand.
Think! Racking his fevered brain for a clever ruse to get her back to his room, he took another swallow of the diluted cocktail - a long slow comfortable screw against a wall. Now, that would be an excellent start to a night of fulfilled dreams.
“Noah.” Her voice called him out of his roguish thoughts.
Straightening in the booth, he looked up into her dazzling hazel eyes. Shit! Should he just ask her up? He couldn’t miss the opportunity afforded by a freak snowstorm. “Connie…”
“Why don’t we talk in my room?” She handed him a keycard. “Room 326. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up, okay?”
“S-sure”, he stammered “I’ll take care of the bill.”
Slumping down into the booth, he had to adjust himself beneath the table. She had wiggled away, the roses adorning the back pockets of her jeans holding his attention until she was out of sight. The visual of pulling those black jeans down over the curve of her ass had flashed in his mind and caused his dick to harden…again.
~~~
“People do this all the time,” she told her reflection. Saying it out loud helped to quell the nervous jitters that had awakened as she tied the sash of the short lilac robe into a bow. She’d arranged her hair so that it hung down her back, curling at the ends and had taken the time to redo her make-up so that her almond-shaped eyes were outlined in a complimentary shade of purple that made them sparkle. She’d always thought her eyes were her best features and she smiled.
She flattened the robe’s rumpled neckline over her breasts. “Oh, well.” She grimaced. There was nothing she could do about her modest bosom and sashayed over to the door, wiggling her other best feature. She had a great ass and she knew it.
Of course Noah would knock instead of entering uninvited. She remembered that he had been as practical and courteous as she. However at the moment, practicality was not in her vocabulary. Excitement coursed through her and tingled down to her toes. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this, but there was no stopping her. She was on vacation stepping into the waiting embrace of her inner seductress.
She briefly wondered why he had accepted her invitation. He couldn’t really think she wanted to talk?
Pulling the robe down just a tad, she swung the door open to greet Noah’s sweet smile and impossibly deep dimples. His squared face looked pale and soft beneath the shock of black hair that fell across his forehead. He was a quietly handsome man whose serious eyes warmed her insides and made her momentarily unable to speak.
“Uh…Come in.” Her voice was as weak as her knees.
Noah didn’t move. His eyes traveled in a slow drift from her from her face to the robe’s hem. After a moment under his intense gaze, her thighs were clenching against the considerable tingles radiating between her legs. So much for being the seducer.
“Sorry.” He blinked up at her as if snapped back from somewhere else and stepped into the Wesleyan’s VIP room. It was merely a queen-sized bed wedged between two bedside tables and a faux oak desk with swiveling black office chair. His presence, though, illuminated the muted palette of dulled beiges and greens to a vibrancy that dazzled her vision.
“Have a seat.” The huskiness in her voice surprised her and she headed to the mini-fridge with dogged determination. After so long, why was the shyness that had crippled her early years creeping up her spine and turning the simple task of pouring a glass of wine into a monumental test of her dexterity?
You have faced some of the most arrogant men on the East Coast and never flinched, she told herself. Surely, she could meet the gaze of Noah Cohen.
Squaring her shoulders and shaking her hair back, she turned to find that Noah had chosen to sit in the office chair. She handed him the glass which he raised to lips immediately and swallowed, his eyes focused on the hem of the robe that landed just above her knees.
“Noah.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she slowly crossed her legs. “Why corporate law?”
His hand tightened around the glass and he swiveled abruptly away from her. “You know what you’re doing to me, right?” His voice was a deep, low rasp.
“What?” She walked slowly over to him. Her hands hovered, trembling, for a moment and then with great effort she began to massage his shoulders. “I never thought you were attracted to black women.” She kept her voice low so that the shakiness wouldn’t be as obvious.
Noah groaned softly and eased his body forward in the chair as her hands moved lower. No longer on the defensive, she was reinvigorated and bent to whisper in his ear. “All those pretty brunettes. Remember?”
His groans became louder, as she planted soft kisses over the curve his ear to the nape of his neck. His head rolled languidly to his chest, giving her room to nibble across the back of his neck to his other ear. Sucking his earlobe into her mouth, she twisted her hand into his hair and pulled his head back against the chair; her free hand snaked over his shoulder on a downward journey past his chest.
He sucked in his breath hard and grabbed her hand, securing it just above his waistband. “You really want to do this?”
She flicked her tongue into his ear before whispering, “The question posed to the floor, counselor, is… Do you?”
His answer came quicker than she’d expected. She found herself being half-pulled by his hand twisting into her hair and half-pushed by hi
s quick steps over to the bed that dominated the small space. “It’s up to me?” he asked, lifting her onto the bed.
Connie only nodded, her eyes peering at the gorgeous body that was revealed as Noah peeled off his conservative blue shirt and khaki pants. Looking up to the once soft brown eyes now burning with a dark light, she wondered if she had been too hasty in her choice for a seduction candidate. What had happened to this boy? Oh yeah, he had grown into a man.
Her breath stuck in her chest as he reached down to undo the bow with one quick tug at her waist and slid in next to her. Holding her against his chest with one arm around her waist and the other curled between her shoulder blades, he kissed her. A shy law student’s dreams were coming true with each lash of his tongue over hers. She wanted to savor the taste of him, tequila and orange juice, but his kiss was demanding and biting.
She struggled to pull her head back, but he held her fast. Pushing his tongue further into the recesses of her mouth, he twisted his hand into her hair to ensure her compliance. She needed to gain equilibrium from the dizzying effects of the all-consuming crush of his mouth and maybe be an active participant in what was supposed to her seduction of him.
Tilting her hips forward, she rubbed her aching sex against the hard muscles of his stomach. She groaned having found some relief from the intense throbbing between her legs and increased the pressure. Noah’s pulled his head back and slid his hand over the curve of her ass, squeezing her as she circled her hips against him. “Ahhh…ahhh”
“Take this off.” He jerked at the robe with a wild look in his dark eyes.
Oh, shit! She had always known there was passion boiling beneath his conservative appearance and sat up quickly, removing the robe to reveal her bare breasts and the multi-colored thong. His hands skimmed over her neck, down to cup her breasts, then to her stomach which twitched under his soft touch.
“Panties,” he commanded.
She lifted her hips off the bed, wriggling the thong down her hips and tossed it aside. Noah lowered his body onto hers, softly kissing along her neck. “I’m glad you want this,” he murmured against her throat as he slid his fingers gently into her and claimed her mouth again.
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