Page 24 of For Your Eyes Only
For a moment, I consider going backstage. I could easily excuse it as concern over her well-being. I told the dancers this was a safe place, and what happened to her broke our rules and violated her safety.
Franco’s words drift through my head.She doesn’t want to meet you. Glancing down, I decide it’s probably for the best. With the shape I’m in, I’d appear equally as threatening as the rest of these creeps. I know what women like, and it isn’t meeting drooling assholes for the first time with tents in their pants.
So I cut out the side door and head to my car.
Hopping in the steel-gray Lamborghini Franco insisted on renting for me, I hesitate when I see a crowd surrounding the shiny, black SUV waiting at the back door. Easing my car forward, I catch a glimpse of two dark-haired women in hoodies and sunglasses as big as their faces dashing into it as camera flashes strobe in the night.
My stomach clenches, and my fingers tighten on the steering wheel.It’s her.
The crowd of mostly men push forward on the SUV as it slowly drives out of the parking lot. They’re like ravenous dogs, trying to follow her home, and I realize how smart she is to hide her identity.
Hunger burns in me. I’m dying to touch her. I know where she lives, but I’m not going there. I’m better than that. Fuck, if only my dick would get the message.
* * *
The backof her dark head presses against my shoulder, and her full lips are parted in anOof ecstasy. My hand slides down her flat stomach, joining hers between her thighs, and now I thread our fingers as I stroke her clit, increasing the pressure as I drive into her from behind.
She’s hot and tight and so wet. I’m starting to come, even as I try to hold back, to make it last longer. I’m too desperate tonight; she’s made me too feverish.
Looking down the front of her body, I watch her gorgeous tits, full and bouncing with every thrust. They’re perfect, and the ribbons of her costume hang on each side. I untied them tonight, slowly, and as they fell away, I pulled her hard nipples into my mouth, sucking on them, squeezing them, lifting them in my hands.
Now I’m inside her, and we’re riding all the way to heaven. Her orgasm mixes with mine, dripping from her pussy onto my thighs. We’re coming together, and she bucks her ass against my pelvis. I kiss the side of her neck, moving my lips higher, behind her ear as I speak hot words to her.
“That’s my good girl. Ride my dick. Come all over me…” My voice is ragged, and I groan loudly as I finish.
Her ass moves faster, drawing out every last drop, pulling me from base to tip, until my legs are trembling and weak. My knees give out, and we have to collapse forward.
Only, it’s just my forearm pressing against the stone wall of my shower. I’m alone, holding my dick, wringing every last drop of orgasm from my body as her image slowly fades from my mind.
An angry growl replaces my moans. I want to hold her in my arms for real. I want to slide my fingers along her jaw and turn her mouth to mine so I can slip my tongue into her. I want to taste her. I want to possess her.
I can’t go on like this. My hand is no substitute for the real thing.
* * *
In my robe,with my fourth vodka of the night in my hand, I quickly place the online order. It only takes a few moments, tapping on my phone face to be sure it’s delivered by dawn. It’s an expensive gesture, but it’s worth it. I’ve got to get this ball rolling.
Sliding the device in my pocket, I step to the window and look out at the lights reflecting off the water. My condo faces the intracoastal waterway, and I gaze at the drawbridge with its old-fashioned, Spanish-style tower in the center. The blue water sparkles brilliantly.
Spring is the perfect time to be here. The air is cool, the humidity low, but it’s still warm enough for the girls to wear slip dresses and the air to taste of salt and sin.
I take another sip of expensive, ice-cold liquor. It has to be my last or I’ll feel like shit tomorrow. The tension has left my body. The fever is gone, and I’ve started the wheels turning. Placing the glass on the counter, I start for my bedroom when my phone buzzes.
I’m not in the mood to speak to anyone, but I check it to be sure there isn’t a problem with my order. Hana’s face is on the screen, and I slide my finger across to answer. We always answer.
“You’re calling awfully late.” I continue walking.
“Am I catching you at a bad time?” Her voice is tentative.
I hear street noise on her end, and I glance at the clock. It’s after one. “No, I was just going to bed. You okay? Not walking up Fifth Avenue alone, I hope.”
“Debbie’s with me. She’s been fighting with Grish all night. It seems she finally believes the rumors about her mother.”
“Sounds like a terrific time to be hanging with those two.” Sarcasm is thick in my tone, and I sit on the bed, stretching my back straight against the headboard.
“You know us so well.” She’s quiet, and it’s not like Hana to call at this hour simply to chat.
As I’m deciding how to approach this, I hear a voice I recognize in the background. Odd–it’s Blake’s voice.