by Cara Thereon
“Come inside, Naomi.” He straightened up and turned away.
He walked into the room apparently believing that she would follow. As the door bounced against the stopper that kept it open, sanity returned. Was she really going to walk into the room of a very sexy, half-naked, guest? Her body was certainly saying yes, but her mind was telling her to wait a minute. She needed to grow a backbone and not let herself be bossed around by sexy, half-naked men. Stop shaking and just tell him that you will have one of the night handymen help him, she thought. She pushed the door open just a little.
“Mr. McKee.” Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke. She attempted again a little louder. “Mr. McKee. Um… Derek?”
A hand grabbed the door and held it open. His silky voice beckoned. “Naomi, come inside please.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized he was standing right by the door. When she opened her mouth to reply, nothing came out. She lost her nerve under his intense look and scurried under his muscled arm into the room. The door shut with a soft snick. She felt him right behind her and stood still feeling for the world like a hunted animal.
“Sit.”
Derek’s hand landed on her lower back and she felt it straight through her layers of her uniform. She stepped forward quickly dismissing her sadness when his hand fell away. It was the customary hotel room with a king sized bed, nightstand, desk, and TV. Naomi crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to shake apart.
“I think I’d rather stand.” It shocked her to hear how strong her voice sounded. “I can help you better if I’m standing anyway.”
That firm hand was on her shoulder. He turned her to face him and then he pressed gently until she was sitting on the bed without any understanding of how he’d done that. Now she was frustrated. Some of her natural shyness melted away in the face of his highhanded behavior.
She sprang to her feet ready to tell him that this wasn’t a good idea, but she didn’t gauge his closeness and managed to collide with him. His arm snaked around her waist drawing her to his body. The air, and the fight, whooshed out of her. Naomi’s eyes got hung up on his chest; his very broad, very muscular, and very bare chest. She melted like wax into him.
“You are very beautiful, do you know that?” Was there a hint of surprise in his voice?
Her eyes flew to his. She searched his face for signs that he was pulling her leg, but he looked very serious at the moment. “Thank you?”
“You are welcome.” He nodded thoughtfully. ”I think we should have a seat now.”
Naomi was sure that meant she’d sit in the desk chair and he’d sit on the bed, but that’s not what he meant at all. Some how he repositioned them and she found herself sitting stiffly in his lap on the bed. He kept an arm around her waist, as though positive she would flee; she was too torn to decide what to do.
“Now, to what I need your help with.” He brushed her hair back from her face then settled a hand on her thigh. “How old are you?”
“How old am I?” She looked at him in confusion. ”What does that have to do with anything?”
“Answer the question.” There was the command again.
She opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but out came, “I’m twenty-nine.”
“Good.” His hand stroked her thigh up and down.
What was going on, she wondered as his fingers continued their slow caress of her clothed leg. She watched utterly fascinated as he traced up the inner seam, lingered at the crease where her thigh met her body, then retreated back down to her knee. He repeated that over and over until she found herself opening her legs a little wider hoping he’d touch her where she throbbed. When his index finger pressed against her zipper, she mewled like a kitten.
The hand around her waist rose to her nape where he massaged her tense muscles gentle. He tilted her head to the side and pressed warm lips to her neck. She wasn’t even thinking of fighting him as his lips brushed her skin. The button of her pants was undone allowing his fingers to tease the skin above her panties.
“If I slipped my hand inside,” He whispered in her ear, “would you be wet for me, sweet Naomi?”
She would, she was; it was unreal how wet he’d made her with so little effort. Words wouldn’t come to her to answer his question though. He obviously wasn’t looking for one because he slipped by the flimsy barrier of her panties touching her with a sure hand. She gasped at the contact, leaning forward to place a supporting hand on his thigh.
He groaned in her ear. ”Just like I thought you’d be.”
Naomi couldn’t get her mind back on straight with him touching her this way. She’d never had a man do this to her before; she’d barely tolerated the few encounters she’d ever had with a man. This was doing something insane to her body that she’d never had. Her legs opened wider, her hips thrust forward into his hand, and the most helpless moans were spilling from her lips. Derek would whisper erotic things to her that fired her passion higher until she thought she was going to explode. She squeezed his leg needing something to cling to fearing she’d fly apart at any second. He nuzzled her neck and brushed a kiss below her ear.
“I know what you need, sweets. Just let me take your body where it needs to go.” His breath came out heavy signaling his own arousal.
She moaned as her body strained toward something unknown to her. His teeth grazed her earlobe and it he unleashed something with that contact. Naomi cried out as her body erupted. It was unreal the sensations crawling through her. He continued his caresses until there was nothing left of her passion except a few flutters. She slumped against him feeling sated.
Derek’s lips pressed into her hair. “You are sexy like that. All that shyness falls away and your whole body vibrates. I have a feeling few people have seen you that way.”
“No.” She buried her face in his neck. “I don’t let strangers touch me like that.”
“I didn’t think that you did.” He kissed her again. “I need a little more help from you.”
She tensed at that. ”Okay.”
“Have dinner with me.” He stroked her face.
“Now? But I’m not dressed to go to dinner.” She made to sit up, but he held her head in the crook of his neck.
“I want you just like you are.”
She touched her lips to the pulse at the base of his neck. “You’re bossy.”
“Because I have to be.” He moved her to sit beside him and then stood up. “Don’t move.”
Instead of going to the bathroom, he stood right in front of her and peeled off his jeans. Naomi stared at him, namely the large part of him that pressed against his boxer-briefs, watching as he pulled on a pair of khakis and a t-shirt. He pulled her to her feet, buttoned up her pants, and laid a kiss on her lips.
“Let’s go. I’m very interested in learning more about you, sweet Naomi.”
“You are?” Her eyebrows crawled to her forehead in surprise.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and stared into her eyes. “More than you realize.”
Guilty Pleasure
Shame dogged her as she walked up to the window, but the moment she inched back the curtains she felt nothing but giddiness. Right on time.
Sylvia pressed against the edge of the window, just out of sight and watched as he pulled off his shirt. Their houses sat close enough that she could see straight in. Sweat sheened over his chest and neck, and she swallowed when a single drop slid down his stomach, disappearing into the line of his shorts.
“Come on, let me see you.” She dropped a hand to the front of her pajama pants, heat radiating from between her thighs.
He turned away from her, and she hung with bated breath as he pushed his shorts and boxers down revealing his tight behind. Seeing the muscles of his back ripple in the light made her hot. Her fingers caressed the lips of her cunt through the fabric, enjoying his slow walk to the shower.
The clear curtain obscured nothing. She licked her lips as he soaped his hands and run them slo
wly over his chest, down his stomach, and directly to the growing erection between his thighs. He was impressive all over, broad and muscled. She imagined the weight of him in her palm, heavy and full, silky and warm. She’d kneel at his feet, the spray of the water beating down on her, and allow him between her parted lips. Just the thought of it made her frantic with need.
Her hands slipped beneath her clothes, two fingers delving into her own wetness, eyes riveted to his caressing. One arm braced against the tile as he stroked up, teased the head before moving down the base. Sylvia couldn’t take her eyes off him, slick with water, eyes closed in total focus. Pleasure rippled through her body as she thumbed her clit.
The first flutters of her muscles let her know how close she was just watching him, it wound tighter with each plunge of her fingers, but she wanted to wait for him. It wouldn’t take long; she’d watched him enough to know. He began to tense, his hand moving faster and faster as his other hand fondled his balls. Almost… Almost…
He stilled and lifted his head, his eyes seeming to lock on hers across the distance. Sylvia froze, but her surprise did nothing to stop the orgasm that rocketed through her body. She dropped the curtain and fell back against the wall as she shook and clenched around her fingers. The look in his dark eyes made her shiver hard as the lingering ripples of her passion fanned out.
Embarrassment and fear pushed in before that languid feeling could grip her. Sylvia rushed upstairs to her bathroom, turning on the cold water and splashing her face after washing her hands. She stared at herself in the mirror, anxiety evident in the way she chewed her lip and the furrow of her brow.
This was the first time he’d ever looked up. Maybe he hadn’t really noticed her, but she knew that the way they burned into her answered the question. Maybe he wouldn’t nothing would come of it.
A shower would cool her, and she slipped out of her pajama bottoms. She started to turn on the faucet, but the ring of the phone stopped her in her tracks. Her stomach bottomed out as it rang, taunting her with who it might be. Every step toward it made her sick with nerves and for a moment she contemplated letting the machine pick it up. A nagging worry about what he’d do made her snatch it up on the last ring.
“Hello?” She croaked out.
Silence filtered across the line, but as she thought to disconnect, he answered, “I see you.”
Sylvia knew, knew in her bones that it was her neighbor. Bile churned in her stomach, threatening to send her running back into the bathroom, but she stood unmoving by her bed. What did he mean by the statement.
“How long have you been watching me?” There wasn’t a hint of anger in his voice, but she knew she needed to answer.
She swallowed down the lump that prevented her from answering. “Long enough.”
His voice dropped to a rough whisper, rasping across the line and her nerves. “So you’ve been spying on me for a while then. You know it’s not nice to stare into people’s windows.”
“I know.” She wanted to sag on to the bed, but the fear kept her upright.
“What do you think I should do about it?”
Whatever he chose to do, she deserved. She couldn’t help herself, even when she knew it was wrong, she looked. Just watching the way he moved, the bunch of his muscles, the way the light hit his skin . . . She was hot now thinking about it.
“I’m sorry.” Even as she said it, Sylvia knew she wasn’t. Embarrassed that she’d been caught, but not sorry in the least.
“That’s not good enough,” he bit out, causing her to grimace. “I need something from you.”
“I don’t have anything to give you.” She found herself walking back toward the window, drawn there by some unknown force.
“But you do.” Fabric rustled in the background. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”
His demand caught her off guard. She debated hanging up, but knew she wouldn’t be able to do so. After a deep breath, she confessed, “A t-shirt and panties.”
“Open your window.” He didn’t raise his voice, but she found herself pushing the curtain back and opening the pane so the evening breeze blew in.
Upstairs in her room, the closest window in his house was low enough that she couldn’t see him if he was there. The angle would allow him to see her though. She glanced across, but only saw a light on in the room.
“Go turn on your lamp and come back to stand in front of the window.” The way his husky voice slid across the line made her want to do what he asked.
She moved at his command, turning on the light and then coming back to stand in her place. With the light behind her, she knew he could see her clearly.
“Take off your shirt.”
Her hand was at the hem, pulling it over her head before putting the phone back to her ear. The breeze was warm, but still caused a shiver as it brushed across her heated skin. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his eyes and her nipples tightened painfully.
“Touch yourself.” Husky now, those words triggered an instant reaction. Her body heated and she felt her cream dampen her panties.
She bit her lip so hard she could taste blood on her tongue. Even as her mind asked her why she was doing this, her hands cupped her breasts. She twisted her nipples between her fingers and moaned softly into the phone. It was his hands she pictured at her breasts, driving her crazy as he tortured her.
He groaned. “Take off your panties, I want to see you.”
She sat the phone down and turned her back to him. Inch by inch she pushed them down, bending at the waist so he could see the puffy lips of her sex. She turned back toward him and retrieved the phone again.
“Shit.” He breathed.
Hearing the strain in his voice made her wetter. He wanted her, knowing that was empowering. That she could make him lose himself made her giddy.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed.
The awe and tenderness in his voice made her smile, and for once she accepted those words for what they were meant as; a compliment. His eyes sliding over her body shook her to the core, but she held herself still for him. Embarrassment slipped away; replaced by a longing so hot it nearly singed her. Her body ached with that repressed desire; her sex was painted with it.
“What’s your name?”
“Sylvia.” She tried to match her tone to his, but she simply sounded breathless. Nowhere near the low and seductive pull of his.
“Beautiful.” And she knew he meant it. “Spread your legs, Sylvia.”
“Wait. What’s your name?” The question was an afterthought. Her thighs moved apart at once.
He continued on as though she hadn’t asked. “Open yourself up for me, I want to see you.”
What the hell was wrong with her? The thought flittered through her mind as she let her hand settle between her thighs, opening herself for him to see. She was unbelievably wet and knew he could tell even from a distance. His breath whooshed hard across the line.
“I want to put my mouth there.” His silky voice and his words made her moan. “Would you like that, Sylvia? Would you like my mouth on you, buried there, tasting your sweet cream?”
Her hips rocked as her mind conjured the picture of him holding her thighs, his mouth and tongue teasing her. “Yes.” She panted out.
“Show me how much you want that. Touch yourself and show me how bad you want it.” Hypnotic in its deep rhythm, his voice continued to move her into action.
She parted herself wider and began rubbing like she did when no one watched. Her hips rocked harder as she began circling her clit with her finger. She almost dropped the phone, but she needed to hear him as he murmured encouraging, dirty things to her.
“Faster, Sylvia. I want to see you let go.”
He demanded and she did. When he told her to slide a finger inside herself, she did that, too. He spurred her on, asking for her moans, making her gasp at his words. Her hips moved of their own accord in a restless rhythm as she strove to make herself come for him.
“That’s it, pretty
girl. Move those hips for me. Your breasts look so delicious swinging like that. I bet they’d taste so good. I’d put one of those plump nipples in my mouth and bite hard until you screamed.”
Her orgasm crept up on her at his words. She cried out and wished she knew his name so it would be on her lips. She’d been too scared to look it up before and at this moment, as the strength of her climax stole her breath, she wish she had. She thought she heard him say her name in a broken whisper, but her wild moaning drowned it out.
Sylvia felt weak, dazed as shockwaves continued to tremble through her. She leaned against the sill, her thoughts a hazy mess.
“You’re beautiful like that.” His breathing sounded as ragged as her own. “Talk to you tomorrow, Sylvia.”
“Can I know your name now?” She begged.
“Tomorrow.”
The sound of the dial tone buzzed in her ear.
***
She was already standing at the window the next night when he called. Even as she’d gone about her day at work her mind kept circling back to him and what he’d made her do. As she’d tapped away at her computer, she’d been tempted to look him up. She hadn’t though; she wanted him to tell her his name.