The New Girl (Fantasy Heights) (6 page)

A few steps shy of the lounge she heard a raised voice coming from Steph’s office. It was Steph she heard, shouting.

Amanda froze where she stood, surprised. She was about to back away and get out of there before she heard something she shouldn’t when the muffled voices became clearer.

“I don’t care,” Steph was complaining. “Even if you’re right and he’s just as messed up as you say, that still doesn’t mean he’s gonna do anything about it.”

Thomas’s voice followed. “Don’t ignore this. Back in my old life, I could spot these guys a light-year away. I know what I’m talking about, Steph. The guy is dangerous.”

“What if you’re wrong? Do you have any idea the damage such an accusation could do to him?”

“I couldn’t give a single fuck less what happens to him. It’s everyone else I’m worried about. The resort, too. If something happened and the media got a hold of the story, what do you think might happen?”

“You know what?” Steph snapped. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You’re wrong, Thomas. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were jealous.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, get over yourself. You’re one of the smartest women I know. How can you be so stupid about this one thing?”

Amanda backed away, wishing with all her heart and any number of other vital organs that she hadn’t heard a single word of that exchange. She might dismiss it as none of her business if it weren’t for the threat of media exposure. Her anonymity mattered, and if Steph was harboring some kind of doomsday secret here at Fantasy Heights, Amanda’s time of refuge might have to end before it had really begun.

She frowned all the way back to her car, wondering what ‘guy’ could be so dangerous. No one queued themselves up as a suspect. Everyone she’d met on the staff, with the exception of Thomas himself, had seemed pleasant enough. They did have to pass frequent medical and mental health checks. From what she’d experienced so far, management didn’t mess around with those.

Maybe the guy in question was a client, or someone Steph was involved with? Josh popped momentarily to mind, but she just as quickly ruled him out. Of anyone she’d met at this place, he was the least worrisome. Besides. Thomas clearly wasn’t afraid to go after his employers. If he had a problem with Josh, he wouldn’t hesitate to take the fight straight to him.

The taint of worry lingered through her days off. Monday came without the rumor mill producing anything juicy. Amanda was anxious and ready to get back to work. She didn’t have to go in until late that afternoon, and by then, she was derailed by something else entirely. The first piece of snail-mail she received at her new address was an invitation to her former fiancé and stepsister’s wedding.

Standing at the mailbox, she shook her head and laughed. Just when she’d thought it safe to send Dad her new address... What was she supposed to do about this? The rest of her family didn’t actually expect her to attend, did they?

She thought about it all the way to work. If she went to the wedding, it would be awkward. If she didn’t, everyone would think she was bitter, or a coward. And as much as she would like to say, “Fuck it, who cares what anyone thinks,” this was her family. There would be consequences whether she went or not.

She was still preoccupied by the dilemma as she walked into wardrobe, where Kara attacked with hot-rollers, eyeliner and red lipstick. The same silk halter dress she’d worn for her threesome waited on its hanger until the rollers were out and Amanda’s hair flowed in dark, 30s-starlet waves down her back.

Thinking she looked like the dark-side version of Veronica Lake, she had an extra sway to her step as she crossed the quad and headed for
The Eastern Star
where someone had booked a private party for the night. She would be the party favor once her client arrived. Until then, she was to take up position on the dance floor, put on a blindfold, and wait.

The club was deserted, save for an unfamiliar observer hiding out in one corner. Over the rail between palm fronds was her blindfold. She fastened it carefully so that it wouldn’t undo all Kara’s hard work. Blind now, she followed the handrail onto the dance floor, getting her bearings, and slipping her shoes off. She was nudging them off to the side when the music came up to dampen all other sound.

A bit unnerving, she thought but, willing herself to relax and go with it, she began to move to the bluesy classic rock song with a simple sway of her hips, raising her arms over her head. Before the first verse had given way to the bridge, she felt a gentle hand whisper over the silk at her waist. By the chorus, her male client’s hands had found the sides of the halter, much the same as her threesome client Lisa’s had.

Heated memories fueled a primal urge to fuck, and she wished her companion would do more than toy with the idea of slipping his large, warm hands inside that halter. When it hadn’t happened by the second verse, she took control and reached behind her head to unclasp the halter, letting the silk slither down, baring her breasts.

The client never made a sound, but lost their shyness. She felt something brush her hand and then slip around her wrist. It was too much to hope that she would get handcuffs and a spreader bar, but she got the next best thing: a soft fabric cord. The client wound it around her wrists before hooking it onto something above her head.

Excitement coursed through Amanda like electricity through a wire, heating her, lighting her up with need. The client didn’t let her down. He went to work on her nipples, thumbing, twisting, and then sucking and nipping until they were so sensitive the slightest touch was echoed between her thighs. He put his hands at her waist, dancing for a time in a slow grind that turned her pussy damp and hot.

If only she could use her hands, she would arouse her client beyond the point of restraint. Against her belly she could feel a long erection. She liked the way his hands were commanding yet gentle. This was someone experienced. Confident, but certainly taking their sweet time building up the hunger.

Her hopes were raised when the hands went to the small of her back, to the zipper there. The client lowered it and let her dress fall the rest of the way off. Then he did the last thing she expected: a firm mouth brushed against hers in a whisper of a kiss. For such a soft, delicate caress, it caused a heap of trouble inside Amanda. Flames licked to life in her nipples and an intense longing made her pussy ache.

The client, still absolutely silent, kissed her a second time, this one much deeper, and more intimate than Amanda was prepared for. She responded with invitation, opening her mouth to him, submitting to a probing tongue.

She moaned against his mouth, a sound of approval and appreciation. The client didn’t make a sound, and when he pulled away suddenly, she almost protested. One hand remained on her ribs while he reached up to free the restraint from the hook over her head.

His hands continued to guide her while he eased them backward and down. She felt clumsy and unintentionally resistant as the client repositioned them.

He lay flat on the floor while she was on all fours above him in 69 position. Her knees pressed alongside his ribs, her pussy and anus exposed to him. Her hands were still bound. She found a comfortable position resting her forearms on the floor between the client’s knees.

He wasted no time. He kissed her pussy even while rubbing lubricant onto her anus.

Nerves made her worry that she wasn’t ready for a stranger to take her this way, but he’d been so gentle and so purposeful so far, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. She let out a louder moan now, one of pleased encouragement. He stuck his fingertip inside her anus, and she felt a melting sensation everywhere. Deep inside, she could feel the sweetness of orgasm threaten already.

He began to pump his fingertip in and out, gentle, probing as his tongue had been. The lovely sting made her go very quiet to enjoy every second. She still had to concentrate not to tense up once he pressed past the second knuckle, but even when she did tense up, the client kept moving slow and steady, sensitizing the flesh even more.

So stimulated by the feel of it now, she began to pump against the finger on her own. Behind her, she heard a soft whisper from the client. She thought it might have been a curse word, but she could tell by the erection pressing against her belly that he liked what she was doing, that he was every bit as turned on as she was.

Maybe a little too turned on. He took his finger away and sat up, urging her forward while he shed clothes. He rearranged her so that she could ride him. By then, she was so eager to feel his cock buried inside that she grabbed his shaft with her bound hands and lost no time in wetting the tip of him along her soaking pussy.

He had a very wide, long shaft, and he split her, filled her. When she began to move, he held her hips, keeping her still. She wriggled in frustration but he only tightened his hold until she obeyed his clear order not to move.

She was so very, very glad she had when, a moment later, she felt something soft slip between their bodies right under her clit, a soft bullet vibrator.

His hands shook as he fumbled with it to turn it on. Then all thought was impossible. He had also reached around behind her and pressed his fingertip back into her anus. So much sensation hit her all at once, it was hard to focus on any one thing.

She couldn’t help it, then. Pleasure seemed to flow upward, through her, from him, from his cock and his hands. The gathering of pressure at her core was more intense than anything she’d felt so far, even more so than with Josh. She could not stop the orgasm. It was too strong, too powerful, and utterly different from anything she’d felt before. It began with a fluttering sensation in her internal muscles that travelled up and down his shaft. They were like the first raindrops before a deluge as the dam gave way and the clenching began full force.

Beneath her, the client made a muffled sound of surprise just before she felt him buck off the floor, as if her jittery orgasm had caught him unawares and set him off like a bottle rocket. The thought that she’d made him lose control made her smile, to gasp out a breathless laugh.

She thought it might have been a mistake when she felt the client reach up to make a fist in the hair at her nape. He pulled her down to him, crushing her mouth against his as his cock crashed up inside her, convulsing in the uncontrollable thrusts of male orgasm.

The penetration was complete now with his tongue in her mouth, his cock buried deep and his finger still inside her hole. The bullet had slipped but she needed no further stimulation to bring on a second wave of orgasm, much harder, sultrier and much, much longer than the first.

When she returned to earth some time later, she sighed. She’d just had the best sex of her life with someone she had never seen, had never heard.

He was already withdrawing, lifting her off him, but still kissing her. The last she felt of him was the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip.

She stood there, uncertain but happy and replete, for quite some time until the observer unbound her wrists. He stripped off the blindfold, and held a black silk robe for her to slip into.

Amanda eyed him a moment, weighing the odds he’d tell her who the client was, but she did not dare. There were reasons the others feared Thomas. She wouldn’t do anything so stupid as ask an observer to name a client who clearly wanted to maintain his anonymity. The observer would tell Thomas immediately. She would find herself busted down to non-stop group sex duty outside Corset’s shadowbox.

There had to be a way for her to find out who the client was. If she did find out, she didn’t intend to do anything with the knowledge.

She just wanted to know. And desperately wanted him to rebook.

Always a pleasure...

Meg Silver writes fun, fast-paced erotic fiction. Passion and pleasure are always the main themes, and the series installment format makes for great light reading, whether readers are looking to spice up a quiet evening, or warm up the engines for something more adventurous.

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