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Authors: Sarah Bailey

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BOOK: Enticed (Dark Passions)
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     “Yes,
deeper” I managed to murmur, making him grab my buttock and angle me so he
could plunge to the very wall of my depths. With each thrust of his hips, each
magical dive of his cock, I felt the tension build and build. He grabbed me by
the hair, and pulled my head towards his mouth, his breathing heavy, his cock
still slamming relentlessly, and whispered, “Look at the view, Mel. Look at the
view when you come.” My eyes lifted to the window in front of me. Millions of
twinkling lights, a golden glitter in the dark of night. My eyes dazzled as my
excitement mounted. I got lost in the steady rhythm, the rhythm of his pounding
as he drove me closer and closer to sheer, unbelievable pleasure, and the
rhythm of the lights as they twinkled in the distance. And then I cried out,
loud and strong, and it all converged; a feeling of pure bliss rippled through
my body, and the city lights themselves felt like a million little explosions
euphoria.

 

     Bradley
pulled me into his arms and flipped me onto my back. “I want to feel you
against me when I come,” he murmured, and plunged back inside of me. I watched
his face become strained, his eyes still hungry and fierce, until finally his
face contorted in a spasm of euphoria, and he drove into me with the last of
his strength, my sex clenching around him, sucking everything out of him and
into me. Then he collapsed onto me, his chest hot and slick with sweat, his
breathing still hard and heavy. When his breath slowed down, he pulled back and
looked at me affectionately, gently running his fingers through my hair. “God,
Mel,” he said. “You’re going to be the end of me.”

 

     I
gave him a lazy smile, and trailed my fingers along his back, making him
shudder. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get some sleep.” With that he got to his
feet, lifted me into his arms, and carried me to his bedroom. When we entered
his room, he turned on a giant tiffany lamp, which revealed a large king-sized
bed, sitting in the middle of a huge room. The ceilings were very high, with
ornate moldings. Bradley walked over to the bed and playfully tossed me onto
the black silk sheets. I sprawled out, and smiled up at him.

 

     “I
could get used to this,” I said. He sprang onto the bed, and wrapped me in his
arms.

 

     “I’m
glad,” he said, “Because I intend to tie you to this bed and never let you
leave.”

 

     I
looked at him in mock horror and asked, “Who will feed and bathe me?”

 

     “I
will,” he said, grinning. “I’ll wash every inch of your incredible body, and
feed you my cock regularly.”

 

     I
gave him a playful slap and rolled over on top of him. I ran my finger along
his chiseled features, marveling at his rugged beauty. “You really are a handsome
man,” I said.

 

     He
cocked his head to the side and said, “I thought you said I was hideous.”

 

     I
laughed. “A girl can change her mind, can’t she?”

 

     He
gave a sharp slap to my butt, then squeezed it. “You have a fine ass, Ms.
Winters. And yes, I’m glad you’ve changed your mind. And now that you have,
I’ll do everything I can to stop you from changing it back,” he said, giving me
a look that was both intense and earnest.

 

     “I
don’t intend on changing it back,” I said, equally earnest.

 

     “Good,”
he said. “Then come with me. On an adventure. I promise it will surpass your
wildest fantasies.”

 

     I
turned my head away and bit my lip. Then I shook my head.  “I can’t,” I said,
pulling away from him.

 

     He
turned on his side, his expression soft, and stroked my cheek. “It won’t be for
long this time. Just a week.”

 

     I
sighed in frustration, and gave a little squeeze to his hand. “I’ll think about
it,” I finally said.

 

     “Okay,”
he said, matter-of-factly. “That’s a good start.”

 

     “Where
do you want to take me?” I asked, my voice full of curiosity.

 

     “To
Manhattan. In the Seventies.”

 

     I
shook my head in disbelief. “I still don’t think I quite understand this.” excitement.

 

     He
stroked my cheek and said, “We’ll take the journey together. I won’t leave your
side. There are some incredible people I think you’d love to meet.”

 

     “Like
who?” I asked, feeling bewildered.

 

     “Well,
Andy Warhol, for one.”

 

     I
felt my pulse start to race, and my eyes go wide. “Andy Warhol?” I said, not
able to contain my excitement.

 

     “Yes,”
he said, laughing. “And then we’ll go to Los Angeles. Meet some Hollywood
types.” He stroked my cheek, his warm eyes studying my face. “Anyway, it’s been
a long night. You’ve had a lot to take in. Let’s sleep on it.”

 

     “Okay,”
I said. “But how am I going to get home in the morning? I only have my robe and
pjs with me.”

 

     He
grinned at me and said, “I guess you’ll have to do the walk of shame.”

 

     I
scowled at him and slapped his arm. “Such a gentleman,” I said in a mocking
tone.

 

     He
stood up and strolled over to his walk-in closet. He disappeared for a moment,
then reemerged with a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweater. “These
are my sister’s,” he said. “She left them behind on her last visit. I think
they should be about your size.”

 

     I
eyed the clothing. It did look about my size.

 

     “And
I’ll drive you home,” he added. “On my motorcycle.”

 

     I
arched an eyebrow at him. “A motorcycle?” I asked. “You ride?”

 

     He
smirked at me and said, “Of course. The leather jacket and motorcycle boots
aren’t just for show. I’ve earned the right to wear them.” He turned to put my
clothes on a 1930s maroon leather chair, and I noticed the tattoo of a small
eagle on his back.

 

     “You’ve
got ink,” I said, smiling wryly at him when he turned back to face me. Then I
made my eyes go all dreamy and said, “I just love a man with ink.”

 

     He
shrugged his shoulders and gave me a disarmingly boyish smile. “What can I say.
It’s from my rebel days.”

 

     I
gave him a serious look and said, “I’d love to hear all about those crazy
days.”

 

     His
eyes glimmered with mischief for a moment, and then his expression became
noncommittal. “I’ll tell you all about my bad boy days one day soon. But right
now, we need to get to sleep.” And to signal the end of the conversation, he
reached for the lamp and turned it off, then snuggled up behind me, bending his
strength and warmth to the curves of my body. Encased in his powerful and
protective arms, I fell soundly asleep.

 

***

 

     It
turned out Bradley only lived a couple of blocks from me, in his luxury
penthouse condo on Crosby street, but the next morning he decided to give me
the ride of my life. Dressed in his sister’s clothes and a large black helmet,
I straddled the back of his motorbike and hung on for dear life as he took me
for a 6am joy ride through the streets of Soho. Hanging on tightly to his
waist, warmed by the heat radiating from his body, I took in the sights and smells
of early morning Manhattan as the cool autumn wind bit pleasantly at my cheeks.

 

     Before
I left Bradley’s place, I’d called the superintendent of my building with some
made-up story about how I’d lost my keys and needed someone to open my
apartment. Once home, I quickly showered and changed into my sensible work
clothes. As the workday wore on, the giddy feeling I’d had since the night
before refused to go away. That is, until I got a phone call from my mother,
telling me how reckless I was moving to New York and breaking up with Steven.
My mother. Calling me reckless. I tried to shove aside the feelings of dread
welling up in me, but by the end of the day, I felt flooded with grief and
confusion.

 

     I
cleared my desk by 6pm, and then decided I needed a walk to clear my head.
Bradley had tried calling me twice that afternoon, but I was too shaken to talk
to him. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I was reckless, and Bradley was a huge
mistake. When my feet hit the pavement, I found myself going in the opposite
direction of my apartment. Trekking up Madison, caught up in the rush of the
crowd and the frenetic traffic, my thoughts became swirling and hectic. I
realized I needed some peace and quiet, and headed toward Central Park. The
moment I veered onto the path leading to the pond, I found my thoughts slowing,
my head clearing. The fiery leaves on the trees were glowing in the setting
sun; the falling leaves, twisting their way to the ground, looked like curled
flakes of sunlight. I bought a latte from the café, and sat on a bench, facing
the rippling water.

 

     Bradley
made me feel alive; I couldn’t deny that. Being with him was so deliciously
freeing. But I was also feeling reckless and out of control. I couldn’t believe
that I was seriously considering taking time off from a job I’d just started.
To go off into some crazy alternate reality with some man I barely knew. No, I
couldn’t do it. As much as it would kill a part of me, I had to let Bradley go.
I just couldn’t do this. I’d worked too hard for too long to put my career and
future in jeopardy now.

 

     My
phone buzzed. A text message from Bradley:

                                      

                                 
     Had another day dream of you in stilettos.

Can’t wait to
caress those gorgeous legs of yours again.

 

 

      I
sighed, and powered off my phone. When I got home, I took a long, hard look at
the photograph of Bradley above my mantelpiece. Then I took it down, leaning it
facing the wall. I spent the next two hours on my couch, sipping wine and
staring off into space. I felt completely empty, and deprived of the one person
who had sparked something to life in me. But this was the right decision.
Wasn’t it?

 

     My
thoughts were broken by a knocking on my door. “Melanie, it’s me. Open up.”
Bradley. Shit. I walked to the door, unlocked the dead bolt, but only pulled
the door open by a crack. “Let me in,” he said, his expression stormy.

 

     “I
don’t think that’s a good idea.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t think we should
see each other anymore,” I said, with a tremble in my voice.

 

      Bradley
sighed heavily, and then pushed his way into my apartment. He pulled me into
his arms, and then his lips were on mine. “Does this feel wrong to you?” he
asked, his eyes burning into mine. “Or this?” he asked, running his lips along
my throat.

 

     I
shivered, and then pulled back. “This is reckless,” I said, smoothing my hands
down my dress. “I barely know you.”

 

     “Then
we’ll take it slow,” he said. He took a step towards me, and cupped his hands
around my cheeks. “I want to take you on an adventure of a lifetime. We’d leave
tonight if I could convince you. But I see that you’re not ready.” His eyes
were full of passion and intensity. “I’ll wait,” he said, stroking my hair, his
eyes softening. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

 

     I
gave him a long, hard look, but my resolve was melting. With Bradley standing
right in front of me, rugged, handsome, and exuding a powerful sexuality, I
realized there was no way I could cut him out of my life. I wanted him. I
needed him. “Okay,” I said, looking into his glorious green eyes. “We’ll take
it slow.”

 

     Then,
my desire for him got the better of me, and I hooked my fingers into the belt
of his jeans, and started unbuckling it. “I want you now,” I whispered, pulling
impatiently at his zipper. I could feel him getting hard through his jeans. He
slammed the door shut, grabbed me, and pinned me to the wall.

 

     In
moments, he had his pants down, and he’d pushed up my skirt and ripped off my
g-string. His breath was hot on my ear as his finger slid deep inside of me.
“You’re so wet already,” he whispered, his voice gruff and full of
satisfaction.

 

     His
hands sunk into the flesh of my ass, and then he hoisted me up with his strong
arms, and held me against the wall. I wrapped my arms around his neck and
stared into his wild, hungry eyes. He groaned, and then with a thrust of his
hips, he was inside me, his cock filling me, caressing me with long, luxurious
strokes. I felt my sex clench and quiver around him, pulling him deeper; he
quickened his pace, pushing and pulling furiously, creating sweet bursts of
delight throughout my body, and building a deep undercurrent of glorious tension
that made me pant and strain and writhe in yearning for that ultimate,
explosive release. “You’re mine, Melanie,” he whispered in my ear, and that
sent me over the edge; I cried out and my whole body started to quiver with
intense, dizzying ecstasy. And he was right there with me, grunting and groaning,
his muscles trembling, as the wildest of pleasures tore through his frame. He
held me for a long moment, and when our eyes met again, his were soft.

BOOK: Enticed (Dark Passions)
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