Final Destination III (13 page)

I admired her long muscular legs and inhaled her delicious scent, a blend of sweetness and sweat as the SUV headed downtown to my loft. My loft, headquarters for a former import-export business, was located on the lower East Side. It was far enough away from my parents’ stuffy Fifth Avenue apartment and lifestyle, yet close enough to my work and sensibility.

We cruised down Broadway, steeped in silence until we reached my residence. Perfectly trained, Marcus slid the door open and let us out.

“So, you live in a warehouse,” she said, eyeing the exterior. She sounded unimpressed, but her wide eyes communicated a tinge of surprise.

“Yeah,” I said as I clicked a remote. The former garage door rose. We stepped into a wide freight elevator that rose slowly after I inserted a key into it. Again more silence.

The elevator door jerked open and left us out in my loft. True to fashion, Allee bolted out of the car. She surveyed her surroundings. If she was awed, she did not show it.

“A nice space you’ve got here. It’s like a museum.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly a museum but the two-story space was vast, filled with interesting artifacts, photographs, and art, each a souvenir from my travels around the world. The high exposed ceilings, polished concrete floors, industrial lighting, and floor-to-ceiling windows made for the perfect backdrop to my collection. Meredith had done the decorating—high-end, sleek Italian furniture that included oversized black leather couches, a burled wood dining table and chairs, built-in book chrome shelves for all my books, plus an antique Persian rug, her gift to me. A winding polished metal staircase led to the second floor where I slept and showered.

Leaving me behind, my companion freely explored the space. I trailed behind her, observing her gorgeous ass. It was firm and shaped like a heart. The kind you want to squeeze in your hands. And explore the crack.

Focusing on a photograph of me from my trip to Kenya, she said, “Did you used to write for a travel magazine?”

“Yup. Before I wrote for
Arts & Smarts
, I worked for
Travel & Fun
.” Another one of those magazines she’d probably pooh-pooh. Travel aimed at the Silicon Valley nouveau-riche.

Sure enough, she rolled her eyes. “Did you ever write an article on Paris?”

I shook my head. “I’ve been there several times, but I’ve never found the words to describe the City of Lights.”

“Probably because you’ve never fully experienced it.” Paris obviously meant a lot to her. I changed the subject. “What about that massage?”

“Yeah, Golden Boy, what about it? Her eyes roamed around the loft. “Where’s your bed?”

“Upstairs.” My cock twitched. The thought of having her in bed anyway I could was a turn-on.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Move it. There’s an expiration date on this free massage.”

With Allee right behind me, I headed toward the spiral stairs and mounted the winding metal steps. My bedroom, along with the adjacent state-of-the-art bathroom, occupied the entire second floor. It was my kingdom where I wrote and dreamed.

Allee’s eyes rotated around the room and landed on the king-size mattress lying in the middle of the floor. It was covered with a plush white duvet and numerous down-filled pillows.  “That’s your bed?” She shot me a scornful look.

“Yeah.” I felt a little embarrassed that I had never gotten around to buying a real bed. But truthfully, I liked sleeping so close to floor. It kept me grounded and expanded my mind when I gazed up at the skylight above.

“Take off your, t-shirt,” she commanded. “I’ll deal with the rest.”

I lifted the damp cotton tee, my Marathon souvenir, over my head and tossed it onto the floor.

She surveyed my torso, her eyes passing over my broad shoulders, toned pecs and washboard abs. All 6’2” of me. A regular at my health club, I had to admit I was in great shape. Her impassive expression did not confirm that. All that came out from her mouth was a throw away “hmm.”

“Lie down, facedown,” she ordered.

I got down on the bed, following her instructions. The cold crisp cotton duvet was soothing under my aching, heated body.

I heard her get down on her knees and felt her tug off my running shoes. My sore feet were at last freed prisoners. I let out a moan as she dug her thumbs into the sole of my right foot. She circled them around, pressing deep, releasing all the pain and tension that had gathered there from the long race. She ran her thumbs up and down my foot, from my heel to my toes not missing any part. Oh, God, it felt good! My whole body was letting go. Except one part. The flesh between my legs. The hard circular motions were arousing my erogenous zone, sending little electrical pulses there. Balls! I was getting hard.

Before moving on to the other foot, she pulled each toe, one at a time, and then clasped her fingers between them. My other foot was screaming for equal treatment, and she did not disappoint. I was moaning and getting harder.

From my toes, she moved on to my tight calves, squeezing and kneading each one. The delicious pain made me scream out, “Fuck.”

“Pain has its benefits,” she said in that deep, raspy voice.

I was eager for more and got it when she moved up my thighs to my hips, pressing deeply into the sore sockets. God, she was good. My back couldn’t wait for her skilled hands.

But it was not her hands that made contact with my back. A warm, wet sliver of velvet slithered up my spine. Her tongue! The movement was slow, continuous, and focused. Tingles spread through my body, pooling in the engorged area between my inner thighs. She was driving me crazy and giving me a boner. I wanted that aerobic tongue in my mouth. And then I wanted to fuck her.

When she reached the nape of my neck, her hands took over. With her magic fingers, she kneaded my lower back and made her way back up to my upper back, tight shoulders, and neck. Oh, yeah! I was in heaven. Except for my hungry dick.

“You carry a lot of tension in your neck and shoulders,” she said squeezing the flesh along my shoulder blades.

“I sit in front of a computer too much,” I mumbled, wanting to tell her that I was carrying a lot of tension between my legs.

“You need to stop doing that, Golden Boy.” It was another command.

“Turn over,” she ordered.

I rolled over onto my back. Her knees were still straddled over my hips, but there was now a bulge between my legs. It was hard to miss. Rolling her eyes, she gripped my shoulder blades and met my gaze. She didn’t blink, and her mouth was curled into a wicked, dimpled smile. Man, she was sexy.

She leaned into me. Her warm breath heated my cheeks. “How do you like your massage so far?”

“I’ll show you how much I like it.” I couldn’t help myself. Grabbing her ponytail, I yanked her down toward me, and covered her lips with mine. Not resisting, she moaned into my mouth. I moaned back before parting her lush lips with my tongue. It immediately found hers and I massaged her mouth all over. She tasted delicious.

A wicked blend of guilt and lust surged inside me. Here I was practically engaged to another and kissing this girl I’d just met who was making me as hard as rock. And damn it, I wanted to consume her every which way I could.

Lucky for me, she abruptly pulled away first.

“This is not part of the deal.” Her voice was gruff.

She was right. And I was wrong. What right did I have kissing this girl I hardly knew when I was practically engaged to another? “I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“I’ve gotta go and you got an article to write,” she said, climbing off the bed. With her long legs, she bounded down the spiral stairs. Leaving my t-shirt on the bed, I trailed behind her, unable to keep my eyes off her ass.

“I recommend taking a hot bath,” she said, seductively leaning against the elevator. Her eyes roamed down my body and stayed glued on my crotch. “It’ll make you feel better.”

My cock was throbbing. She had successfully managed to blue-ball me.

I inserted the key into the elevator, resisting the urge to thrust my body against hers. The elevator door opened. As she gracefully slid backward into the elevator, she said, “Good luck, Golden Boy, with that article. I might even buy a copy of that schlock magazine and read it.”

The elevator door slammed shut before I could say a word.

Following her advice, I headed back upstairs and drew myself a hot bath in my antique copper tub, another gift from Meredith. Leaning my head against the back of the tub, I stared at my swollen dick which was shooting out of the water. I couldn’t get Allee out of my head, and the more I thought about her, the harder and bigger my dick got. It was crying out for relief. Holding my heavy, aching balls in one hand, I circled my fingers around my girth and moved them up and down the shaft. Harder and harder. Faster and faster, jerking myself off. Closing my eyes, I arched my back and fantasized Allee in the tub with me, her long deft fingers taking over. My breathing grew ragged as I raced with single-minded ferocity to a climax. As my cock finally exploded, I growled her name. Damn it. She was right. The bath made me feel better.

UNDYING LOVE…COMING SOON.