Love in the City, an erotic romance novel (22 page)

He closed his eyes and kissed her arm. “I’m glad I please you
, m’lady.”

“Now let me please you,” she said as she rubbed the oil between her hands to warm it, t
hen rubbed it on his erect cock, rubbing in the pre-come from his tip in with the oil.

He groaned with the pleasure of her sexual touch. He watched in
the mirror as she stroked him.

She rubbed oil everywhere between his legs, lifting and cupping his testicles, rubbing oil underneath them, all over them. She loved the look of
the dark hair between his legs, how it accentuated his form. He was utterly, completely masculine. She poured more of the oil in her hand and began stroking his cock in long, even strokes.

In the mirror, he watched what she was doing to him, his eyes closing every few seconds as the pressure of his arousal pumped
furiously through his body, intent on one thing. His sexual responses reached a fevered pitch. His hips pumped, his natural instincts taking over.

She watched him as he fell into his desire. She loved doing this to him, getting him so excited. It was thrilling that it was due to her, to her touch. His cock glistened and throbbed as she stroked it faster. “You are huge,” she sa
id, admiring his full erection.

He had beads of sweat on his brow and chest as his arousal crested. “Anabelle…” he whispered.

She gripped his cock tighter and stroked his shaft faster.

“Oh, you’re going to make me…” his breath caught in his throat and he gripped the
duvet. “Anabelle…I…”

“I want to make you come. I want you to show me just how much I turn you on,” she said, her strokes fast and even and sure.

His hips pumped harder. “
Uhhh
…I’m coming…,” he said, his voice deep and husky as his thighs spread more. He let out a long, loud groan as his semen shot from his cock. He came in waves. More and more semen kept shooting from the tip of his shaft. He shuddered with the intense orgasm as his body expended his load.

Anabelle rubbed his shaft gently as his orgasm finished. She ran her fingers through the warm semen that landed on his
lower waist and stomach and dripped over his cock.

He
reached for her arm and pressed his face into it as he let out a long sigh, his body trembling. He kissed her arm. “I think that’s the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had. It felt like three orgasms.”

“I’m glad it felt good,” she said, still gazing between his legs. “You are all man, and you are incredible. Artists should sculpt statues of your naked form.”

“No, I’m way too shy for that,” he said, burying his face in her arm again. “I can only do private showings.”

She laughed, then reached for the second bathrobe, draping it over him. “I can’t let you get cold. You must
also be taken care of.”

“You take amazing care of me,” he said as he pressed his
soft lips to her arm.

She slid down to lay beside him and wrapped her arm around his waist. She could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

They laid together in silence for a time, holding one another.

Then his
cell phone rang.

“Uh oh,” Anabelle said, “the sex police are after us.”

He laughed. “I’m going to ignore it, they’ll never find us.”

“Good,” she said.

A few seconds later, they heard it beep. Someone had left him a message.

Giorgio didn’t budge, he just held her.

They had started to doze off when his phone rang again a half hour later, startling them.

He sighed. “I’d better take a look and see who it is.”

“Alright,” Anabelle said, taking her arm off of him.

He got up and put the bathrobe on. He went to the sitting room to get his phone out of his inside jacket pocket. He looked at the message. He shook his head.

He walked back to the bedroom.

“Was it important?” she asked.

“No, just Portia wondering where I am. She said people are looking for me.”

Anabelle wasn’t happy to hear who it was. “Are you going to call her back?”

“Nope,” he said, getting back into the bed with her and setting the phone on the bedside table.

She smiled and cuddled up close to him.

Twenty minutes later the phone beeped again. This time whoever it was left a text message.

He grunted in frustration and reached for the phone. It was a message from Portia. “Now she says
Nikolas is looking for me, too.” He set it back down on the table. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wish she’d leave me alone.”

Anabelle didn’t say anything. She frowned. She wondered why it was Portia texting him and not his brother.

Fifteen more minutes passed by and the phone went off again.

“It’s her again, isn’t it? This is the fourth time,” she said.

He nodded as he read the latest text from Portia telling him again that guests were looking for him and reminded him that so was Nikolas. He pursed his lips, deciding what to do.

“Do you need to go?”

He looked over at her, his blue eyes searching hers.

“It’s ok
ay if you do,” she lied.

He looked disappointed, but he nodded. “This is partially my event, I really should head back down at some point I guess. People are probably looking for me.”

“People like Portia.”

“Well, she’s taken it upon herself to do the hounding apparently.”

“She’s persistent.”

“I know, I’m sorry about that. She always wants to get her way.”

“I’m sure,” Anabelle said, turning her head.

He reached out and gently turned her face back to him. “Why don’t you get dressed and come back down with me?”

She thought about it for a moment, but then shook her head. “And leave a five-star hotel room overlooking Central Park? To go mingle with people I don’t know and can hardly relate to? Thanks, anyway, but I think I’ll pass. Besides, you left me feeling way too good to want to leave here.” The last thing she wanted after their romantic interlude was to go back downstairs and get stressed out again. She wanted to revel and linger and relax in the satisfaction of the moment.

“I understand,” he said, stroking her arm. “You’ve been quite a trooper already, coming to something like this on short notice. I sure am glad you’re here.”

She turned back towards him and smiled. “Me too.”

He leaned over and kissed her. “I’ll try not to be too long. I’m going to have a quick shower first. Go ahead and order room service, anything you like. It’ll automatically be charged to the room.” He got up and grabbed his pants. His bathrobe was open to the waist, showing his chest and firm stomach
, sexily accented by dark hair.

“Thanks,” she said, watching him with a
lustful eye, admiring his form.

He noticed her watching him and blushed.

“You are an incredibly sexy man, you know,” she said.

“I’m glad you like what you see,” he said, smiling shyly. “That means I can
keep pleasing you.”

“Oh
, you please me, alright,” she said, as she rolled over on her side, keeping the sheet wrapped around her, but purposely showing a lot of cleavage. “You are sexy and gorgeous beyond belief. You should come with a warning label, you know. You drive me completely wild.”

He walked back over to her. He knelt down and kissed her, slipping his tongue gently into her mouth. As he did, he gently pushed her back over on her back. He then pulled the sheet down to her waist. His hand caressed her naked breasts. He lifted his head and bent down to kiss her nipples. “Likewise, beautiful girl,” he said as he gazed admiringly upon her feminine shape.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with desire, loving his eyes on her body. She felt so womanly around him. Her body ached again for his touch. “Hurry back,” she whispered.

He kissed her again, a long, lingering kiss. “Don’t you go anywhere,” he said as he touched a finger to her lips.

Giorgio headed back downstairs to the Dream Ball, which was still in full swing.

“There you are,” a man’s voice called out. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Nikolas,” he said, going over to greet his brother. They briefly embraced, patting each other on the back.

“Hey
, man,” Nikolas said. “Where’d you go? We’ve been trying to find you.”

Nikolas, a couple of inches shorter than Giorgio, with a slightly slimmer build, had the same coloring and blue eyes as his older brother, but kept his hair sh
orter. Plus, whereas Nikolas always wore a tie to work, Giorgio almost never did. Nikolas always teased him about his model-worthy bed-head look and how he should have a more polished business appearance. Giorgio refused. He liked a few loose threads here and there.

“Yeah, I know,” Giorgio said, running his fingers through his hair.
“Portia’s been texting me non-stop. What is it with your wife? I shouldn’t be on her leash.”

Nikolas laughed. “She thinks anyone with anything to do with Tsar Enterprises is on her leash. That woman’s obsessed with the business and how it looks to the outside world. You
, as the company’s leader, disappearing at an event like this sends her blood pressure boiling.”

Giorgio shook his head. “She drives me nuts sometimes.”

“Me too, bro,” Nikolas said, patting his shoulder, “and I’m married to her. Speaking of women. Where’s your date? Has she ditched you already? I didn’t even get a chance to meet her yet.”

“She’s uh…upstairs.”

“On the second level?” Nikolas asked. “Let’s go, you can introduce me.”

“Not there. S
he’s in the hotel.”

“Oh, too much partying for her already? Did you wear her out?”

Giorgio grinned. “You could say that.”

“Oh, I
seeee
,” Nikolas said, drawing it out for emphasis. He laughed and gave his brother a playful punch to the shoulder. “You devil. Misbehaving at a charity function.”

Giorgio laughed and nodded his head. “Actually,
I think she was quite pleased with my behavior.” He winked at him.

Nikolas gave a raucous laugh. “You are too much, G!” Nikolas then held his hands out. “Don’t even think of makin
g any more puns. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Just then, Portia came sauntering up. She had definitely had more to drink.
A lot more. She was walking with an exaggerated sway to her hips and her makeup was starting to look a little worse for wear. “What are you two up to?” she asked, her eyes watery and starting to look bloodshot around her colored contacts. “Trouble, I assume?”

“Just catching up with my bro,” Nikolas said. He gave her a half-smile. His wife was beginning to
worry him. He knew what she could be like when she was drinking.

She pointed her finger at Giorgio and then poked him in the chest. “You.”

“What?” he asked, his expression displaying his dislike for her demeanor.

She stepped closer to Giorgio, as Nikolas looked on with some disdain. She put her hands on her hips in a dramatic fashion. “Going up to a hotel room for a booty call
during an important function.”

Giorgio’s face reddened.

“I saw you two get in the elevator,” she said, again poking a finger into his chest, harder this time.

Giorgio frowned. “What were you doing in the hotel lobby?”

Nikolas raised an eyebrow. “Good question.”

She wasn’t about to admit she had followed them there. “Nothing, just making the rounds, wanderin
g around.” She was beginning to her words. She waved her hand dramatically in the air. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you disrespecting this event by getting your rocks off with some girl…”

Nikolas cut her off. “Portia, that’s enough. You’re being rude. Let’s go.”

“I’m being rude?” she said, her voice rising. “What’s rude is Mr. Loverboy here. I saw him getting hot and heavy with her earlier, outside on the terrace. Then, he’s got to have a quickie when…”

“Enough!” Nikolas shouted at her. “We’re leaving. Now!”

People turned to look at them.

Giorgio was furious, but bit his tongue. He didn’t want to make any more of a public scene than she had already done
or make things any worse for his brother.

She made to lean into Giorgio again, when Nikolas took her by the arm and led her away. “Sorry man, we’re going to catch a cab. Time to go.”

“Right,” Giorgio said, glaring at Portia. “I think that’s a good idea.” He then gave his brother a sympathetic look. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He watched as Nikolas tried to guide his wife out without attracting any more attention, but Portia was stumbling in her stilettos and angrily mumbling away.

People whispered and stared as they made their exit.

Giorgio was embarrassed for his brother.

As the night wore on, Giorgio was getting tired, both physically tired and sick of the drunken behavior of the crowd. He also knew he’d had a couple too many drinks already himself. Guests kept forcing him to share a drink with them and made a big stink about it if he didn’t. He was trying not to finish most of the drinks, and kept dropping the half-full glasses off on tables and ledges when they weren’t looking.

Many of the folks still partying hard in the ballroom were definitely crossing
all kinds of boundaries. Giorgio spotted a couple, not one that had arrived together, making out in a dark corner and get way too frisky in public. Several of the men were trying to outdo each other with loud, raucous stories about various business, sporting and sexual conquests. A few more women, most married, had also made blatant passes at him. They flashed hotel room cards or tried to paw him as they attempted to slip him their cell numbers for a future tryst while their husbands or boyfriends weren’t around.

He kept thinking of Anabelle. He replayed their intimate moments from earlier over and over in his head. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to be close to her. He wanted the ball to end and to just crawl
back into bed next to her. She was a breath of fresh air in what was turning into a carnal, booze-soaked carnival.

The final straw for Giorgio came when
he was ambushed him coming out of the men’s room.

“Hey there,”
Raquel said, startling him.

He looked around, frowning, then back at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” she said suggestively, holding a half-full glass of champagne

“Uh…ok
ay…”

She took a sip, then stepped closer to him. “I wanted to talk to you...” she stared at his lips.

“About?”

She giggled and look
ed down at the ground.

He could tell that she had downed her fair share of alcohol as well.

Her hand went to his arm, then slid across his chest. “Something private.”

“Raquel, I think it’s been a long night…”

“Shhh,” she said, as her hand slid down his chest. “I need to tell you something.” She leaned in to whisper something in his ear, but lost her balance, spilling the rest of her champagne down the front of his pants.

He inhaled sharply as he felt the
shock of the wetness on his crotch.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” she said as she awkwardly bent down to brush the front of his pants with her hand.

He quickly grabbed her wrist, but not before her fingertips had managed to make brief contact with him.

“
Ohhh
my…” she said, staring at his crotch. “Let me help you with that…”

He stepped back, still holding her wrist. “Raquel, leave it. It’s fine. I’m going to call you a cab.”

“
Nooo
, the night’s still young,” she pouted. “I was thinking…”

He held up a finger. “I’m going to stop you right there. We have a business meeting on Monday remember? You should go ho
me. Get some sleep. Prepare.”

Raquel looked indignant. She wanted to say something in her defense, but then part of her became aware of the business implications of the situation. “Fine. Thanks for a good night,” she said, avoiding eye contact with him. She waved her hand. “Sorry about the drink.” She walked away, setting her now empty glass down on a nearby table.

Giorgio let out a long exhale. “Great,” he said, frustrated as he looked down and felt the front of his pants. They were very wet and sticky. He looked at the washroom door, briefly considering trying to get some of the champagne off in the sink, but he decided against it. He wasn’t going to go back to the party after this. He’d had enough. He headed back to the hotel elevators, trying to avoid bumping into any more rowdy or frisky party guests.

*****

It was getting late. Over three hours had passed and Anabelle hadn’t heard a word from Giorgio. She had ordered room service and watched a romantic comedy on the TV while she ate, and then took a long soak in the tub. The room, the food, and the service had all been excellent. She’d reveled in the luxurious accommodations.

It had been a wonderful escape from the ball, but she couldn’t get her mind off of what was going on down there and where Giorgio was. She felt hurt that he was staying away so long after their romantic interlude. It had meant a lot to her, but obviously not to him, she thought bitterly. She kept thinking of all the women who had been hitting on him. Including Raquel. She had forgotten about her until now. Her mind started to spin with all kinds of awful scenarios. She knew Raquel wasn’t the kind of woman to give up easily.

Anabelle had crawled into bed finally and shut off the lamp in the bedroom. She pulled the covers up around her shoulders. She felt sick. And alone. She wiped away a tear. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted things to move too fast between them physically. Her emotions were now all over the place. The intimacy they had shared this night had been intense. Maybe too intense. Giorgio was like a narcotic for her, her feelings and reactions to him were almost too much for her to handle. He had a way of sweeping her into a heightened, dream-like state. She touched the diamond heart pendant she was still wearing. She was falling hard for him. Very hard.

She thought of what Sarah had told her
, that she needed to keep perspective, keep her wits about her. In spite of how amazing he had made her feel earlier, like the center of the world, he had left her to go back down to the ball.
And why?
she asked herself.
Because of Portia
. A woman she didn’t trust. Anabelle was beginning to feel like a fool.

How was she going to tell Giorgio what she
believed she overheard in the bathroom? What did she really know of his relationship with Portia? Maybe there was even something between them, either now or in the past. For all she knew, telling Giorgio about it might push him away. But she’d have to. Instead of feeling a fuller blush of romance after their intimate time together, she was feeling worried and scared. He had the power to break her heart. Badly.

Around 3:45 a.m. Anabelle finally heard Giorgio come in. She had tried to fall asleep, but with all of the events of the ball and her intense intimacy with him, she just tossed and turned as her mind went over everything, analyzing everything, considering different outcomes, tormenting herself with the worst possible ones.

He came in, not turning on any lights, trying to be quiet. She listened as he undressed in the living room, then went into the washroom. A few minutes later he came out and slipped into bed next to her. She could
smell the alcohol on him. He’d obviously had a few more drinks at the event.

She pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want to pepper him with questions and reveal her doubts and insecurities. This wasn’t the time. She was also afraid of pushing him away, but at the same time afraid of playing the dupe. She listened as he quickly fell asleep, his brea
thing deep and slow.

She turned over. She looked at him sleeping next to her. He was so handsome, like something out of a fantasy. But she wondered what all was really going on with him. What his plans were and if any of them involved her. She lay awake until dawn, tormented by her fear of the future.

Finally, around 6:30 a.m., she couldn’t take it anymore. She knew she was going to get into a fight with him. She was upset and hadn’t slept. She didn’t want that to be their last memory of their time in this room. He was still sound asleep. She got up, freshened up in the washroom and got dressed. She wrote out a note for him:

Giorgio, thank you for a wonderful evening. I will never forget it. I decided to head home to look after Jasper. I didn’t want to leave him alone any longer. I didn’t expect to be this late. Talk to you later.

Hugs, Anabelle

She headed downstairs, saddened, but needing to get away and clear her head. She stopped at the front desk and inquired about the taxi chits for the ball. The woman at the desk handed her one and politely wished her a good day. Anabelle nodded and left.