Page 15 of The Pleasure Zone

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Page 15 of The Pleasure Zone

Nairobia placed the palm of her hand up against the security panel, and the elevator leading to the top floor slid open.

She blew him a kiss, and Ethan swallowed as the elevator closed behind her. He stood a moment longer, then, before he slid behind Nairobia’s car’s wheel and drove off to park it in its designated spot, he looked around the parking garage, then slyly leaned in and sniffed her seat. He licked over the leather where he believed her pussy and ass had been. He imagined she tasted like honey and felt incredible. Fuck, yeah, baby. He fantasized about having his long cock in her. She was nothing like the campus sluts he rammed. Nairobia was a grown woman. Experienced in the art of fucking. And he wanted to be covered in her heat. Painted by her warm juices.

She was his ultimate fantasy.

One day he’d drum up the courage to make it a reality. He knew he’d probably bust fast. Of course he would. In most of her five-minute movie clips, she’d been able to make the male actors in them come quick. And they were pros for Christ’s sake!

Ethan groaned inwardly. He’d never last with her.

He’d have to take

two Viagra pills and a Red Bull.

And invest in a cock ring to keep up with the infamous Pleasure.

SEVEN

She leaned back against the brass handrail, and glanced up at the surveillance camera mounted in the corner and mouthed, “Lick my kut.” She enunciated the words as if she were speaking them directly to someone. She felt like being naughty. Felt like giving whatever horny soul was on duty today a peep show. But she licked her lips instead, and pulled out her ringing smartphone. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway.

“Ja?”

“Bonjour belle.” Hello, beautiful.

Nairobia caught a glimpse of herself in the elevator’s mirrored walls, and smoothed her hair over her shoulder. She had to admit, she looked remarkably stunning for a woman who’d only had three hours of sleep. Beauty was only skin deep. Nairobia knew that. And she knew once the physical beauty faded, if you didn’t have good character, if you didn’t have a good heart, then you had nothing. She’d known over the years beautiful people who were downright ugly on the inside.

Nairobia ran a hand through her hair. “MarSell, mijn liefde. Bonjour. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“I was thinking about you, baby,” he said in his rich baritone voice. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure.” The elevator dinged, announcing the arrival to Nairobia’s floor. She stepped out into the marble foyer when the door slid open. “You know I live for today, my darling. Why?”

“Well, baby, how about you live for tomorrow and let me whisk you away for the day?”

“Oh, no, no, my love.” Nairobia placed her palm against a wall-mounted security pad. “You call me from a private number, then want to kidnap me for the day?” The smooth mahogany doors slid open automatically. And Nairobia stepped in.

Marcel chuckled. “I’m not tryna kidnap you, baby. Simply tryna spend the day with a beautiful woman on my arm.”

Nairobia dropped her bag and keys on the credenza, then headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of coconut water from the massive stainless steel refrigerator and popped it open.

“Flattery will get you almost everywhere,” she teased.

Marcel smiled. “Ah. Then permettez-moi de vous ai…” Let me have you. “Pour la journée.” For the day.

She took a sip from her water. “Mmm,” she moaned, leaning up against the kitchen’s marble island. She had a state-of-the-art kitchen, but couldn’t tell you where most of the cookware or cutlery were. “You know I love when you speak in French. Keep it up and I may lose myself to you.”

“Then come lose yourself, bébé. Come to Rhode Island with me.”

“Rhode Island? Why on heaven’s earth would I want to go there?”

“Because I’d like to be in the presence of your company,” Marcel said firmly.

“And you’ve called me from a private number, no? You call me private like I’m some stranger to you, no?”

Marcel shook his head. “Definitely not. My bad, baby. I’ll text you my number if that’ll make you feel better.”

She feigned a pout. “It is too late. Damage already done.”

“Nah, it’s never too late, baby.”




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