Total Abandon (6 page)

His harsh breathing bounced off the tiles, filling her ears with proof of his need for her. Bobbing her head, she set a steady rhythm. His fingers brushed her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face. She took a moment to glance up at him and discovered him staring back out of half-closed eyes, watching as she loved his cock with her mouth. She was giving him his own personal erotic movie, and his flesh had turned the livid color of a man about to lose control. A taste of salt testified to how close he’d come to orgasm. Totally amazing.

Very carefully, she feathered the fingers of one hand over his sac and found the sensitive skin just behind as she took the head of his cock between her lips.

“Holy shit,” he said. That was a pretty nice noise, too.

“Should I finish you?”

“That wouldn’t do you any good, would it?”

He had a point. While she’d enjoy watching him climax, taking a ride on him would feel so much better. “Got a condom?”

“They’re everywhere.” He reached to a basket of soaps and sponges and retrieved a square packet.

She took it from him, tore it open, and rolled the condom over his erection. It didn’t go all the way to the base, but then it didn’t need to. With a lazy smile, Brent slid into the water. When he reached for her, she went to him and grasped his cock. Nearly weightless, she floated down onto him, taking him inside her one rock-hard inch at a time. Finally she settled against him, having enveloped him completely.

For long seconds, they stayed that way, staring into each other’s eyes. The warm brown of his eyes seemed so deep she could fall into it. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. Sweet, almost innocent, in contrast to the presence of his cock in her pussy.

Squeezing, she tightened her inner muscles around him. Right on cue, he groaned again and thrust up into her. “You’re going to make me lose it.”

“That would be bad?”

“This is supposed to be about your pleasure,” he said.

And pleasure it was. So intense. The build-up of the massage had stretched her nerves to the breaking point. Now she finally had his huge cock inside her and could ride him until he’d satisfied her every need.

He moved inside her again, and she nearly dissolved in a pool of pure carnal delight. Her breasts pressed against the solid wall of his chest. He’d made her nipples so responsive with his massage, and now the stiff peaks sent a charge along her nerves to awaken other sensitive parts of her body. Her clitoris came to life again, throbbing and demanding more contact. She slid her hand between their bodies, easing the fingers toward her sex.

“I have a better idea,” he said.

“Hm?”

“Turn around and face away from me,” he said.

She had to climb off him to accomplish that, and after a moment he gripped her hips to help her. She sank onto him again, closing her eyes to concentrate on the passage of his flesh inside hers. In this position, his hands could roam over her front, and he immediately covered her breasts with his palms and repeated the magic he’d worked on them before. Such an incredible combination of sensations: his cock filling her while his fingers wreaked havoc with the rest of her. After a few delicious minutes, he moved his hand over her belly.

Though her logical mind recognized his destination, her intellect could never have predicted her powerful response when his finger landed on her clitoris and rubbed. Her whole body shuddered, and she let out a loud “Ahhh” that sounded like steam escaping.

“See?” he said. “Noises.”

Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.
“Just don’t stop.”

“Not a chance.”

He continued, pressing and rolling the sensitive bud. Her heart thudded in her chest, beating wildly, while currents of need swirled inside her. Every inch of her flesh ached, straining for release. She needed the orgasm, and yet she needed to hold on to this ecstasy for as long as she could. He seemed to want to string the moment out, too, because he could have ended her with more pressure. Instead, he gave her enough to keep her hanging without finishing her. She’d have to thank him when she could speak again.

“You’re getting me very excited,” he murmured into her ear. “Should we come together?”

In response, she could only whimper.

“That’s how I feel.”

If he’d felt like she did, he couldn’t have uttered a word. But why quibble when he was taking her apart with his fingers? She’d hit the high plateau where nothing mattered but satisfying her need. Soon, she’d soar into climax, and, oh, would it be good.

“Shit,” he whispered. “Can’t . . . last . . .”

His fingers moved faster, pushing harder. When he rolled her clit, she snapped. A rush of energy coursed through her, blotting out everything but the explosion in her pussy. This time, she had Brent’s cock inside her. All that firm flesh, driving her pleasure even higher. The spasms kept coming fast on each other, so powerful.

Brent’s voice sounded behind her, a rumble that built to a roar. He was coming, too, his orgasm drawing hers out as he slammed up into her. Incredible. Unbelievable. And real.

When it ended, she slumped back against him. His arms closed around her, and he rested his head on her shoulder, moaning. The water sloshed around them, warm and comforting.

“Wow,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” she said. “Wow.”

“Something about you really sends me into high gear.”

“I’m so glad.” Of course, she’d come here for her own satisfaction. But knowing she’d pleased him made the experience all the more intense. Brent was obviously a good guy—the perfect friend with benefits. Someone she could genuinely like. She’d be coming back for more.

F
OOD APPEARED WITHOUT
her having ordered it. Brent left her in the bedroom to answer room service’s knock, while she shrugged back into her robe and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the dressing table. Her makeup had long ago worn off, and the bath had dampened her hair. She appeared much the way she did when rising on a normal morning. Only the silk of the robe reminded her she was at an exclusive club.

All that changed when Brent returned, pushing a room service cart. The smells coming from the covered plates suggested enough spice and seasoning to make her mouth water. Mexican food by the smell of it. Her absolute favorite.

“How did you know I love Mexican food?” she said.

“Most people do,” he replied. “I would have sent it back for something else if you didn’t like it.”

He fluffed up the pillows on the bed—two for each of them. “Climb in.”

“Breakfast in bed.” Only it wasn’t breakfast. More like dinner, although she had no idea what time it was and wasn’t about to consult a clock. Who wanted to parse moments like these? She got in bed, sitting up against the pillows.

In no time, he’d put a plate on a tray with legs and set it in front of her. “Huevos rancheros, señorita.”

“Ye gods, you’re not kidding.” She’d tried making this dish at home, once. After dealing with the tortillas and the sauce and getting the eggs just right, she’d decided to leave huevos rancheros to restaurants. Now here she sat, having breakfast in bed in the middle of the night and eating her favorite food with the studliest man in the universe serving her. And to top all that off, he fiddled with what looked like a margarita glass, running a lime around the rim and dipping it into a saucer of salt before pouring something frothy from a pitcher on the tray.

He handed that to her with a bow. “For my lady.”

“I swear, I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Spice and tequila. A woman after my own heart,” he said. “Dig in.”

She sipped her drink first, savoring the salt and citrus and the kick of tequila. A world-class margarita. As she set her drink aside and turned to her food, he served himself and climbed into bed beside her.

Her first bite of her huevos rancheros had her groaning with pleasure. Crispy tortilla, savory sauce, and buttery eggs all topped with gooey cheese. She could hardly get it into her mouth quickly enough. A small pile of refried beans and a matching one of rice filled out the meal. Equally delicious, the beans had a hint of bacon, and the rice was fluffy.

Brent lifted his drink to hers in a toast. After they tipped their glasses together, Brent twined his arm around hers and they drank, staring into each other’s eyes. As always, his gaze held her rapt. Such a beautiful man with a warm and welcoming smile. How could any woman resist him?

“Enjoying your food?” he asked.

“It’s unbelievable. Do you always eat this well?”

“The kitchens here are top-notch,” he said. “Thank heaven the gym is, too, or I’d turn into a blob.”

She had to laugh. “I can’t quite picture you a blob.”

“Exercise your imagination.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “That’s not something I use a lot.”

He stopped in the process of lifting a forkful of his meal to his mouth. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not kidding. I deal in facts. Measurable data. Making things up doesn’t fit into that paradigm.”

He set his fork down. “You must have a fantasy life of some kind.”

“I go to a movie from time to time,” she said. “For an hour or two I’m convinced Ryan Gosling can’t live without me.”

“That’s it? An occasional movie and Ryan Gosling?” His mouth had dropped open. After a few seconds, he closed it.

“You needn’t look so aghast. We don’t all have to live in a made-up world. The real universe is fine for me.” She finished the last of her food and leaned back against the pillows, her margarita in her hand.

“Oh, man. This situation requires more tequila.” He took the trays to the cart, grabbed the pitcher, and returned to bed. After pouring them each another drink, he took a big sip and appeared to think for a minute. “When you were a little girl, did you dream of being a princess or an actress?”

“I don’t remember anything before I was five or so.”

“Fine.” He sighed. “After that. Say, when you went to school.”

She searched her memory. She’d studied hard from the beginning of her education. There’d been soccer, which was fun, and ballet, which wasn’t. She’d performed household chores and had done volunteer work with her family. “I guess I was too busy.”

“Didn’t you read books?” he said.

“Sure. There was one about dinosaurs. I loved it and did a diorama of the Cretaceous period for the science fair that year.” She took a sip of her drink. “You know, this is good, but I think I’ve had enough.”

“You have hardly had any.” He clinked his glass against hers again. “Drink up.”

“It’ll dull my senses.”

“I won’t let it get that far. Trust me?” He stared into her face, a study in sincerity. He had to know letting her get drunk would only make his work harder. So yeah, she could trust him.

“Sure.” She drank some more. The margarita really was delicious.

“So, no fairy tales, no Greek mythology, no romance novels?” he said.

She giggled. So unlike her normally, but this wasn’t exactly her normal environment. “The books with people ripping clothes off each other on the cover? Some of my friends read them.”

“My sisters inhaled them,” he said. “They went on and on about the dresses, the balls, and the gallant heroes.”

“That figures,” she said.

“Hm?”

“That you’d have sisters. You’d have to like women in your line of work.”

“What’s not to like? Women are great people,” he said. “Better than men in many ways.”

“And that led you to working at Club Ecstasy.”

He chuckled. “That and a failed career as a rock star. Honestly, my band sucked, and sucky bands don’t make it in the San Francisco Bay Area. I had a friend who was a struggling actor and worked here to make ends meet. Once I was hired, I discovered where my real talents lie.”

“A sensitive, intuitive person like you must be good at more than just having sex.” She raised her glass in a toast. “Although that’s an accomplishment in itself.”

“I’m studying seriously now,” he said. “Learning to be a musician instead of trying to be a star.”

“I know you’ll do well.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but we were talking about you, not me,” he said. “You really never had a fantasy life?”

“I hate to disappoint you, but no,” she said. She finished her drink and handed him her glass. The liquor had given her a pleasant buzz, but rather than muddying her thoughts, it seemed to have enhanced her senses. The sheets felt smooth beneath her butt, so she snuggled down into them and pulled the covers up to create a warm cocoon.

Brent did likewise, rolling onto his side so their faces were close enough for pillow talk. “How about during sex?”

“You mean, being with one man and pretending I’m having sex with another?”

“You have heard of that, right?”

“It just seems so, well, dishonest.”

“Oh, Angela.” He tapped her nose with the crook of his forefinger. “Everyone does it.”

“Do you?” Had he been imagining someone else while they’d had sex? It shouldn’t matter, really. But she did have
some
female pride.

“You mean did I use fantasy during our sex, don’t you?” he said.

She shrugged and didn’t answer.

“This is all about you. You have my total concentration.”

Have, rather than had. They hadn’t finished. No surprise, really. The night wasn’t over, and they’d cozied back in bed together. Her heart warmed at the prospect, anyway. Places south of there also heated at the possibility.

“But if you want to imagine I’m Ryan Gosling, I won’t be offended,” he said.

She laughed. “That’s sweet, but I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“I’m better than Ryan Gosling?”

“Of course you’re better,” she said. “You’re here, and he isn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’ve already done several things.” Several pretty amazing things. That last orgasm had surpassed anything she’d ever experienced. In fact, if she had orgasms like that for the rest of her life, she’d be more than satisfied.

“I’ve played with your body. I haven’t even touched your feelings.”

“Hey, whoa. This isn’t about feelings.”

He stroked the side of her face, brushing her hair back. “You can’t keep feelings out of sex, not if you want it to be good.”