YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS when your own life feels too dull and you just want to get laid by a hot stranger? I’m having one of those days. Most times I ignore the urge and move on, but today I’m indulging myself.
The guy who just walked into the bar is drop dead sexy. I’m not the only woman in the room to notice him; two women in business dress at a table close nearby look his way too, and the brunette waitress collecting glasses pauses to give him the once over, and then the twice over. I don’t blame her. He’s not regular hot. Lots of guys are that, but this one has that special something that turns him into an eye magnet. You know what I mean, right? He isn’t necessarily the most classically handsome man in the room, and not usually the loudest, but he’s always the one you’d pick to take home, if you happened to be in the mood to pick a stranger up in a bar.
Which, as luck would have it, I am.
This isn’t something I do often; very rarely in fact, once a year at most. I kicked work to the curb an hour ago and headed here to the hotel bar I always choose for this, because it’s never packed out and rowdy but always busy enough to not feel conspicuous drinking alone. I’m wearing black capri pants and my favourite sheer purple blouse and skinny chiffon scarf, a classy outfit that suggests work, or maybe dinner. I could be perched on this barstool waiting for a first date who doesn’t show, or maybe meeting a friend who just texted me to cancel. Easy cover stories I can explain away with a wry smile and a slight shrug.
He hasn’t looked my way yet. That’s okay. It gives me time to make my assessment, to decide if he’s definitely the one. The bar is set out in a square and, for now, he’s taken a seat on the opposite side.
I nurse my almost done with martini, sliding the olive from its stick with my teeth as I look over at him unobserved. He’s not a suit; his tawny hair is too long and he has the kind of tan that comes from spending days outside in the sunshine rather than in a spray tan booth. He chats easily with the server, and then seconds later he drinks deeply from the tall beer glass, as if his day has been every bit as long as mine. He closes his eyes as he swallows, as if beer is his religion and he’s paying it due respect. I know that feeling well, and it reminds me that my glass is empty.
‘Another?’
‘You read my mind.’ I smile at the wet behind the ears server. He can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, but he mixes a decent martini and he’s attentive enough to notice when I need re-fuelling. Attention to detail is a trick most guys should learn early; it goes a long way with a girl if he can remember how she takes her coffee and whether she prefers Pinot or Chablis. Not that I’m considering parking Mr.Cute Hair on the sub bench in favour of bar guy; give him twenty years and then maybe I’ll look again. I like a man who has enough experience to know how to handle me, and my instinct tells me that my one night-stand is sitting at the bar rather than working it.
‘Give him another too,’ I nod discreetly towards the guy as I murmur to the server when he returns with my freshly mixed martini. For a second he looks surprised, a slight lift of his brows, then he nods once and does as I’ve requested without another word.
I look down as he replaces the guy’s empty glass with a full one. Eye contact at this point would be too direct on my part. I don’t want to come over as pushy, or for everyone else in the place to know what’s happening, at least not until I’m certain how he’s going to respond. A public knock-back is something I can well do without on a Friday evening.
For distraction I check my phone and smile at a couple of new texts, and when I look up again he’s not on his stool anymore. Crap. Was I too obvious? Did I scare him away?
I glance casually around the room, trying not to blatantly search for him.
‘Thank you.’
The voice is right behind me, and I don’t need to turn to know it’s him.
‘Don’t tell me your name,’ he says, and his arm slides out to place his beer on the bar beside my martini. His ‘n’ hers. It looks a damn sight better than a pair of monogrammed bath towels.
A tiny shudder of pleasure strokes feather light down my spine. His voice is rich with quiet confidence, and his choice of words tells me that he and I are cut from the same cloth this evening.
‘It’s Rita,’ I lie, and he laughs softly as he slides onto the bar stool beside mine.
‘It’s not Rita,’ he says. ‘Pick again. My ex's name was Rita’
I play with the stem of my glass. ‘kate?’
His brows draw down. He studies my face, and it gives me the opportunity to notice his eyes are the same shade of green as the olive in my martini and shot through with shards of gold, as if someone flicked glitter in them. He’s an odd mix of outdoor healthy and darkly sexy; looking at him sparks something low in my belly. I recognise it as pure, absolute lust.
‘You look like a Hera ,’ he decides.
‘And you must be… Jace’
Those gold-dust eyes glitter. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
I incline my head and consider him over the rim of my glass.
Close up, I could see his handsome face with his well built nose and the laughter lines around his mouth when he smiles. They put him maybe early thirties, or maybe forty at most, which makes us just about equal. He might have a couple of years on me at best; I’m getting old so I plan on making every year between here and there count.
‘So, Jace. Are you in town on business or pleasure?’
I’m pretty sure that's my line.
‘Business up to now,’ he says, and his hand brushes mine on the bar as we both place our glasses down at the same time. ‘Pleasure from here on in.’
I swallow, and glancing away I catch the suited up business women eying him from behind; the look they give me is laced with envy. I can practically see the green eyed monster seated at their table with them. Sorry ladies, go cast your nets somewhere else. This fish has taken my bait and is well and truly on my hook.
‘Is that right?’ I flash him my you’ve-got-me-if-you-want-me smile.
He lays his hand on my knee, firm and massaging. ‘Want to know a secret, Hera?’
‘As long as it’s not your address or phone number,’ I say.
He leans in and pulls my stool closer to his, and his eyes tell me he understands and isn’t in the least offended. ‘I don’t want your Saturday nights or dinner with your folks, either. Just tonight.’
The bar tender is close enough to catch his words and I see his eyebrows hit his gelled fringe. Watch and learn, boy, because there’s a master-class in process here. I’m turned on, hot from the inside out by such clearly laid out intent. I have a couple of options here. Do I play it cool, or put my cards on the table? Oh, what the hell. I never much liked playing it cool anyway.
Slithering to my feet, I end up between his spread, jean clad thighs and wind my arms around his neck.
‘Tonight, huh?’ I look at my watch over his shoulder. ‘It’s still pretty early. That gives us a fair few hours until morning.’
His arm hooks around my waist and pulls me flush against him, and he pushes his other hand into my hair.
‘I’m done talking,’ he whispers, and then lowers his mouth to mine. Oh. My. Fucking. God.
If I’ve met a man who kisses better I don’t recall him, and if I’ve met a man with more charisma I’ve forgotten him for my own good. This guy, he kisses like a champion. He’s gentle until he isn’t, and his hand splayed on my back feels as if it’s branded against my bare spine. It’s a good job his name isn’t actually Stepbrotherbecause I’d have forgotten it.
We should probably stop now. It’s a little after six on a Friday evening and the bar is filling up, but how do you end the best kiss of your life? The answer is you don’t. I press my body greedily into his and thread my fingers through his hair, and at some point he moves from sitting to standing and I’m almost off my feet with the way he’s holding me captive against his chest.
‘I have a room here.’ He speaks into my mouth, sweet, delicious words, and then he lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his middle while he kisses me deeply. The heat of his cock presses into my crotch, and if we weren’t in public right now I’d work his zipper down and release it.
‘I do too,’ I breathe.
‘Yours or mine?’ He’s walking now, and I snag my bag from my stool as we pass. I don’t miss the incredulous looks on the faces of the other after work drinkers; for incredulous, read jealous as fuck. As pick ups go this one has been spectacular, and I am just glad I’m the woman in his arms rather than one of the various green eyed gals pretending to be shocked.
Someone coughs behind us, and I see a well-dressed security guard heading our way through the tables.
‘ Get a room,’ one of the two women at the nearby table grouses cattily, loud enough for us to hear.
‘We did,’ Stepbrotherbreaks off from kissing me to look down and respond. ‘And now we’re gonna go up there and fuck like animals.’
I laugh into his shoulder, shocked, and let him stride through the bar with me in his arms. Those people who can see past their own jealousy give a ripple of applause, and I laugh again, exhilarated. This guy… he’s like a legal high.
He doesn’t put me down as we head for the lift bank, and the hovering security guard scurries ahead of us and presses the button, keen to get us out of the eye-line of the respectable general public.
As we step into the lift and the doors move together, Stepbrotherpresses me back against the mirrored wall and fills my mouth with his hungry, demanding kiss again, no longer holding anything back for the sake of not being arrested.
‘God,’ he breathes, ‘You’re the hottest woman I’ve never fucked.’
‘Yet,’ I whisper, palming his violently hard cock through his jeans.
‘Yet,’ he acknowledges, stabbing at the lift buttons before coming back to my mouth to give me more of his I-can’t-wait-to-get-you-naked kisses that are setting my blood on fire.
The lift pings, and he sets me down so we can stumble from it out onto the carpeted hotel corridor, and he tugs me along by the hand at a pace that would have me out of breath even if he hadn’t just kissed me breathless.
‘Slow down,’ I laugh. He turns to me and narrows his eyes, and then he stops altogether and sandwiches me against the wall with the heat of his chest. He looks down into my eyes, and then his fingers unravel the knot of my scarf and pull it so it slips from my skin and into his hands. A slow smile creases the corner of his mouth as he winds it around his fingers just before he delivers an ultra- slow, searching kiss that sends me reeling. When his tongue touches mine, it’s a sensual brush, not a demanding probe. He cradles my jaw between his warm hands, his eyes closed, a low sound of pleasure in his throat. He’s not doing this just for me; he’s enjoying this change of pace too.
‘Better now?’ he asks, when he opens his eyes. I slide my hands inside the softness of his T-shirt over the hard muscles of his back.
I don’t really need to answer him because he already knows, but I nod anyway.
‘Which room is yours?’
He pulls his keycard from the back pocket of his jeans and peers at it. ‘324.’
I scan the numbers along the corridor and see that we’re outside his door. It touches me that he didn’t take me inside for that kiss.
‘Giving you a chance to change your mind,’ he whispers, dragging his thumb over my lip.
I shake my head. ‘Not a chance.’
He swings the door wide and pulls me inside, and for a second I’m nervous because slowing the pace has given us both thinking time. The urge to have sex with him is still strong enough to classify as violent, but I’m nervous too.
Stepbrotherseems to sense it because he lays the key down and takes my bag from my fingers, then strokes my jaw with the back of his hand. I’m surprised when he turns me against the wall, sweeping my hair over one shoulder so he can kiss my neck. It’s a good move, one that feels screamingly sexy, the kind of thing you only ever do with a stranger or your illicit lover. He fills his fists with my hair, lifting it, kissing the back of my neck when he exposes it as if he knows that it’s my kiss-me-there-and-I’ll-do-anything spot.
‘You like that?’ he whispers when I groan. ‘You like it when I kiss you here?’
I close my eyes and nod, unpicking the buttons of my blouse. He lowers his hands and helps me, takes over, tugging my blouse free of my waistband and opening it so he can touch my breasts.
I rest my forehead on the wall in front of me, loving his mouth on my nape as he covers my breasts with his big hands. He’s breathing fast and his crotch is against my ass as he undresses me, and then he unhooks my bra and slides it off and I skip a few breaths.
‘Turn around.’
I do as he asks and watch as he picks up my discarded chiffon scarf. My pulse quickens when he slips it between his hands and then lifts it to in front of my face.
‘Yes?’
I love that he double checks I’m okay with it.
‘God, yes,’ I say, and my stomach plummets as my world plunges into darkness. He lifts my arms over my head and links my hands, his breath on my lips as he slides his own hands down the length of my arms to cover my bared breasts.
‘So, so, sexy,’ he whispers, tracing my lips with his tongue as he cups me.
‘You make me feel it.’
‘Good.’
Robbed of my vision, I can’t anticipate his moves and his every touch is heightened. His mouth slides down my neck, and seconds later he blows cool air over my taut, aching nipples.
‘Lick them,’ I don’t know if it sounds like I’m begging or demanding, but it doesn’t matter because he sucks one of my nipples inside his open mouth. The heat hits me first, and then the wet slide of his tongue and the graze of his teeth.
I’ve never been blindfolded before, and Jesus I’ve been missing out. This is sensational, in the literal sense of the word. My every sense is more tuned and acute. I almost cry out with pleasure when he moves to suckle on my other nipple, his hand on my jaw, his fingers resting on my bottom lip. I bite them, lick them, turned on by the darkness and his added layer of mystery.
I feel him drag his T-shirt over his head before he takes me in his arms and presses his naked torso to mine. It’s a shock of skin on skin, and a gasp of warm delicious intimacy.
I wish I could see him because my hands tell me that he’s something special, but I don’t remove the blindfold because wearing it is such a rush.
I jump when his fingers slide down the side zip of my capri pants, and I don’t stop him when he lifts his mouth off me to ease my trousers down and helps me step out of them. I stand barefoot in just my panties and blindfold, vulnerable yet not at all frightened of him. My every instinct tells me that he isn’t a threat, unless you count the possibility of my self-combustion.
‘Blue’s my favourite colour,’ he lays a territorial hand over my lace covered mound as he stands up and moves his mouth over my ear. I’m wearing new undies, deep blue silk and french lace; I knew as soon as I slipped them on that it was the perfect set for seduction. I’m hot between my legs, damp already, and all I want is for him to slide his hand inside the silk and touch me properly. He curves his fingers to really cup me there, almost raising me up onto my toes, his fingers pressing the silk between my lips until I moan.
‘I want to suck your cock.’
The words are mine, the surprise is his. His fingers still as mine move to unbutton his jeans, and I feel him move to step clear of them.
I loop my arms around his neck. ‘Are you naked, Jace?’
I hear him swallow, and then he picks up my hand and moves it to his crotch.
‘Yes.’
He really didn’t need to speak to confirm his state of undress. His cock is heavy in my hand, silk ridged evidence of his arousal. My hands tell me what my eyes cannot; he’s hung, and he’s so fired up he could well burn this place down.
‘Lean against the wall,’ I say, working his shaft. ‘I want to keep the blindfold on for this.’
I drop to my knees in front of him, taking the chance to run my hands over his body. I’m already looking forward to the time I pull this blindfold off because I know he’s going to be damn glorious.
‘Hera…’ his words drift over me, quiet and then more ragged when he repeats it again as I lick around the swollen head of his cock.
‘You look so fucking sexy on your knees.’
His hand moves to cup the back of my head when I take him into my mouth, and I love his sounds of pleasure and the gentle pressure of his hand as I move back and forth. He isn’t holding me there, but he isn’t just stroking my hair either. When his hips start to thrust, he groans and moves my face back between both of his hands.
‘Stop, or I won’t be able to.’
I kiss my way up his body as he helps me onto my feet, and let him lead me across the room to the bed.
‘Kneel down again,’ he says, his hand on my shoulder to guide me. I feel the softness of the bed press against my thighs, and then I’m aware of him kneeling behind me.
‘Bend forwards.’ He runs his hands over the curves of my silk clad ass, and I jump when the heat of his mouth settles on the small of my back.
‘I love the shape of you,’ he says, sliding his hands up the length of my back. ‘So damn graceful.’
I relax as he massages my shoulders, his thumbs releasing the tension knots placed there by the pressured working day.
‘And your ass,’ he rounds his hands over my cheeks as he speaks. ‘So creamy. Smooth.’
He traces the edges of my silk panties, and then pulls them down my legs, leaving them around my knees on the carpet.
‘Open your legs, Hera.’
Fuck, I could orgasm right this second at the sound of his voice.
‘You have no idea how sensational you look like this, baby.’
He’s next to me now, one hand in my hair, the other slipping down between my legs. I feel lewd and sexy, spread for his pleasure, and his erect cock is solid against my thigh.
There’s no rush; in fact I sense he’s drawing this out for both of us, because there is a line we’re going to cross, and when we do I don’t think either of us will have long.
He slides his hand under my throat, and there is something in the action that tightens the screws of my control closer to break point. There is a roughness in his technique, deliberately so I think, because in other ways he is the most skilled and sensual lover I’ve ever taken. My body is an odd mix of relaxed and taut, finely tuned by his attentions.
He bends to kiss the curve of my ass, moving back between my knees and spreading them as far as he can within the silk confines of my underwear.
‘I could fuck you now,’ he fingers me as he speaks, melting me into a hot mess. ‘I could push my cock hard into you and we could fuck like animals.’
He finds my clit with his index finger, his other hand resting on my ass as I move my hips. Like animals. I’m reminded of his words downstairs in the bar. I want it so badly now. I want him to fuck me from behind, to hear him growl, to make me howl.
‘Do it,’ I say, bunching up the bed sheets in my fists as he plays with my clit. ‘God Jace, please do it now.’
‘You have no idea how much I want to,’ he whispers, and his cock slides in the slickness between the cheeks of my ass. He’s a movement away from fucking me, and just when I think he can’t do anything but thrust, he moves, lifting me.
‘Where are we going?’
He doesn’t speak, but when a few seconds later he twists and the shower gushes into life, I realise we’re in the bathroom.
‘You can take the blindfold off anytime you like,’ he reminds me, but for now I leave it because this has just skipped up to a while new level of trust and a whole new level of erotic.
He tugs me under the shower and the hot spray of water hits my breasts.
‘I knew you’d look like this,’ he whispers, pinning me against the glass and slicking my wet hair back with his fingers. There’s an edge in his voice, an urgency that tells me how much he’s into this. Very much. He’s goddamn loving this every bit as much as I am.
He soaps my body, slippery warm attention, and finally his hand moves between my legs and touches me. His tongue is in my mouth, his other hand anchored in my hair at the back of my neck, and I wrap my leg around his thigh.
His cock strains between us, and when I reach down and slide him between the slickness of my folds he breathes hard and then suddenly surges himself into me without warning. I say his name in shock, reaching for his broad shoulders to steady myself. He holds me in place with his hips, his hand pushed into my hair as he kisses me, openmouthed, our faces drenched under the stream of water.
I’m done with the blindfold, push it up and off so I can drink him in as we do this. His eyes are open and laden with lust, and the knowing, excited look I see there makes me claw his shoulders. I cling to him, moving on him, watching his green eyes fill with urgent need as he slowly loses his control.
I’m glad now that we didn’t fuck like animals. We could have, we were so close to it, but this wet, slippery, steamy sex is so much hotter.
Every bang of his hips brings me nearer to my climax, and the way that he’s holding my face and kissing me is so goddamn gorgeous that I want it to go on and on. It doesn’t; it can’t, because we are right on the edge and one last slam of his body into mine is all it takes. I shout out, wrapping my body onto his as he jerks. He closes his eyes and puts his head back as he comes, agony and pure elated relief written across his face in invisible marker pen.
My heart is still banging out of my chest when he opens his eyes and looks down at me, and I’m struck all over again with how beautiful he is, and how lucky I am. I hold him for a while, soap his shoulders just for the pleasure of prolonging the best shower of my life.
I wake just before dawn, and he’s spooned around me, his breath steady on my ear.
‘Mi Armor" he murmurs. A half asleep laugh thickens his voice. ‘
I laugh softly too, my eyes still closed.
"Are we weird for introducing role play into our sex life"I say to him
‘I like weird, Happy anniversary,’ He whispers.
I press his wedding ring into his hand and then slip my own back onto my ring finger. ‘Same place next year?’
His hand moves to my hip and pulls me against him. ‘Every year, baby. Every year.’