Page 70 of Filthy Dirty Dom
The teenager's interest was palpable, yet she seemed determined to keep her nonchalant attitude, shrugging her shoulders in a clear attempt to downplay her interest. "So?"
Leslie decided to push forward, leaning back into her chair. "Well, I couldn't help but notice the cut and design of your top. It's rather unique. Did you design it?"
Bella's eyes lit up for a fraction of a second before she composed herself. "Maybe," she said guardedly.
"Interesting," Leslie remarked, her smile widening. She recognized that flicker of interest. Bella was intrigued despite her best attempts to hide it. "I love experimenting with different styles and fabrics. My recent collection was actually inspired by the eclectic fashion scene of New York."
"New York, huh?" Bella replied, trying to sound nonchalant but her eyes had a telltale spark. "Do you do couture, or..."
"Both ready-to-wear and couture," Leslie said. "I love the creativity and precision that comes with haute couture, but I also enjoy the accessibility and practicality of prêt-à-porter."
Bella seemed to be deep in thought, her skepticism slowly fading away as Leslie talked about her work, her experiences, her passion. The teenager seemed to relax slightly, even going as far as asking, "You got any photos of your designs?"
30
After almost getting caught with a hard on by Bella in the library, Leslie went for another swim, this time choosing a white bikini. Her mischievous smile when she came out wearing it was a clear challenge: Alex had told her she couldn’t go skinny dipping, that her body was for him to see and no one less, and yet her little loophole indicated she wasn’t above flaunting her independence in his face. Alex just smiled and enjoyed the view, filing her defiance in the back of his mind. He’d enjoy punishing her for it in a way that would make her scream with pleasure.
After her swim, they went for a walk then headed upstairs. She’d flipped through some magazines that Rosa had brought them, but he could tell she was beginning to feel a bit of cabin fever. It had only been two days since they’d went to that sex club together, but in that time, he knew she was itching to speak with her family about everything that had happened.
A late evening storm had rolled in over the sea and the air in Alex and Leslie’s suite crackled with electricity. Alex could smell rain even though not a single drop had fallen on the suite's balcony. Leslie stood at the window, still wearing his jacket, which he’d give her when they went for their walk given she was still wearing her bikini top with shorts and the air had already started to cool.
Alex rifled through his black duffel bag, which was filled with not only the clothes and toiletries that they procured before leaving New York, but several things he’d brought to pass the time since he had no idea how long they’d be here. After he retrieved what he wanted, he dropped the pack of cards on the table, and the sound made Leslie turn just as he'd predicted.
“Let’s play poker,” he said.
"Poker?" she asked. Then she smiled. “Only if it’s strip poker.”
Alex grinned. They were on the same wavelength, just not on the same channel. “You read my mind.”
Alex was amazed at how easy it was for Leslie to turn him on. And seemingly without her even trying. Or knowing. But just the sweetness of her voice and the quick little spark of lust in her eyes had been enough.
"Why not push things a little further?" he asked, tipping the cards from the box. As he ran his thumb along the stack, he said, "Win a hand, you get to add a sexual favor to the list of what we’ll explore tonight.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprised delight. “And if I lose?”
“You have to give up a secret.”
Now she frowned. “What kind of secret?”
“A sexual fantasy.”
She laughed. “We already talked fantasies at the sex club, remember? Besides, winner gets a favor, loser reveals a fantasy. Don’t those lead to the same thing?”
“Not at all. The winner definitely gets what they want tonight, the loser might get it, be it tonight or in the future.”
“Ah, so the winner enjoys the anticipation, while the loser walks away with questions: if and when. Subtle torture.”
“Exactly. Are you in?”
When he’d had the idea for the game, he'd wanted to give Leslie a little bit of fun to keep her mind off her restlessness or darker things. Now the sexual tension in the room was off the charts.
Was her heart racing as fast as his was? Did she feel like this moment was as dangerous as he did?
He couldn't seem to help himself when it came to Leslie. It was all fun and games, and he could try to convince himself it was all he wanted from her. But then she gave him a look that caught him off guard or spoke in a voice that stabbed right through him and he knew that it wasn't enough. And it never would be. Not with Leslie.
“Oh, I’m in.” Leslie threw the jacket he'd lent her earlier for the evening chill onto the back of the couch and stepped up to the table in her bikini top and shorts.
Picking up the deck, she looked at him with determination in her eyes and asked, "Are you dealing? Or am I?"