I was surprised at how easily sex had come to me. Things had been awkward with Aaron, but he'd assured me that first times were always like that. I wasn't sure that the difference between the first and second time was that drastic with everyone, but there hadn't been any awkwardness with Reed. It had felt natural, right. My body had moved with his in a way it hadn't with Aaron, and I didn't think it was simply because I'd done it once before.
His hair fell across his forehead and I gently pushed it back. I smiled at the mess it was. I could almost imagine him struggling with it before going in to work, trying to get it to lie flat. I wondered if it ever did, but as much as I tried, I couldn't quite picture him with neatly combed hair. In a suit, yes, but not looking like the hundreds of other businessmen I'd seen. My smile widened. It didn't matter what he wore or how he looked. Reed could never be like anyone else.
A lump rose in my throat and my eyes pricked with tears. I couldn't put it off any longer. I eased out from under his arm. I'd promised Tomas and Kai that I would leave with them, and I meant to keep my word. I wouldn’t give them any excuse to burst back in. Reed and I'd had our perfect night together and I would keep that memory safe, untainted by a confrontation.
I climbed off of the bed as carefully as I could. I didn't want to say good-bye. Mostly because I didn't know how to do it. We'd already done the awkward one-night stand good-bye, but this time it was different. He meant more to me than just a single night. But I didn't know what that actually meant. I couldn't tell him that I hoped we'd see each other again, because that could never happen. If he woke up, I wouldn't know what to say.
And I couldn't say for certain that I'd have the strength to leave him if he did. One kiss, even a kiss good-bye, and I couldn't guarantee I'd be able to walk away. I didn't think clearly when I was with him, when he was touching me. The very fact that I was here was evidence to that. Before I'd met him, my rebellions had been little ones. I would never have dreamed of spending a day in Venice without my bodyguards, but he emboldened me, made me act more impulsively than I ever had before. Even my rebellions had been planned out.
I gathered up my clothes from where I'd left them and headed into the bathroom. I didn't take a shower, not wanting to waste the time or risk Reed waking. I cleaned up as quickly and as best I could, then dressed again. I scowled as I pulled on the clothes I'd worn yesterday. I hated the feel of them, but I didn't have any other options. At least one good thing would come out of having to go straight to the plane and home. No one would think it weird I wanted to shower, put on some clean clothes and sleep.
How different this would be if I'd just been some girl he'd met in Paris. Someone with a normal family.
I shook my head and splashed cold water on my face. I couldn't think of that now. The time for flights of fancy and daydreams had passed. It was time to move on, to do my duty. I knew what it would mean and what was expected of me. I’d been raised for this. Born for this.
I took a steadying breath and walked back into the bedroom. I'd half expected Reed to be awake, but he was where I'd left him. More or less. He was on his side now, but he still appeared to be asleep. That was good. I didn't want him awake, but I also didn't want to leave without something to say good-bye. Reed deserved better than that.
On the desk was a sheaf of paper and a pen. A note would have to do. I stood there for a moment, wondering what to write. The words came more easily than I'd thought and it didn't take me long to get them all down. I folded the note and turned towards the bed. I set it on the end table and let myself have one final look at Reed. I leaned down and brushed my lips across his forehead. I couldn't stop the tear that trailed down my cheek, but I hurried out of the room before others could follow.
I'd wanted the time with Reed so I'd always remember him, but as I left the bedroom, I knew I couldn't hope for Reed to do the same. He needed to forget me. And that's what I'd told him.
My note had been simple.
Thank you for giving me what I needed. I can move on with my life now. I wish you all the happiness in the world.
And I did wish him that. I just wished that he could've been happy with me.
Twenty
Reed
I hadn't fallen asleep with any of the women I'd slept with since leaving the States, but it had felt natural to do so with Nami. Her body fit perfectly against mine, back against my chest, head tucked under my chin. I'd wanted to stay awake all night, knowing that I wouldn't have this chance again, but the lack of sleep the previous night and a busy day were a strong combination and I hadn't been able to resist. It was a deep, dreamless sleep and when I started to gradually wake it was that slow, thick waking, the kind that felt like swimming through molasses.
The first thing I knew was that she was no longer in bed with me. Her body heat was gone, but I could hear her moving around. I kept my eyes closed until I heard a door close. I opened my eyes and saw that she'd gone into the bathroom. I rolled onto my side, unsure of what I should do.
Would it be better to let her know I was up? Should I actually get up and dress so I could walk her to the door? Or would it be better to stay in the bed and say good-bye from here? That felt crass. But what would I say when she walked out of the bathroom? A simple 'good morning' felt trite, but I didn't think it'd be fair to expect anything else.
I didn't know how to do this. How to say good-bye. The other women I'd slept with had either left when we were done, or I'd been the one leaving. There hadn't been cuddling, sleeping, lingering. There'd been no expectations and no hard feelings. Before everything had gone to hell back home, I'd dated, but in those instances, the morning after good-byes hadn't been weird because I'd known I'd be seeing them again. With Nami, that wasn't the case. I had no clue what was appropriate.
I had another problem with not knowing what to say. It was less about appropriate and more about not being able to find the right words to either tell her what I felt or to hide it. Would it be fair to tell her that I didn't want her to go? Would she think it was a ploy, just me saying it to make what we'd done feel less like a hook-up?
And if she believed I was telling the truth, what then? It wouldn't change anything. Before she'd told me the truth, I might've thought she could do what I'd done and break away, but I knew now that wasn't a possibility. A family business was one thing. A kingdom was another. And telling her that I wanted to see her again would just be cruel to both of us. We both knew it wasn’t going to happen.
The other option was just as unappealing. If I walked her to the door or stayed in bed, only telling her good-bye and that it had been fun, would she think I didn't care? Would she believe this entire thing had only a mere blip on my radar? Her words to me echoed in my mind. She said she would never forget me. I felt the same way. No matter where I went from here, I'd never forget her and the short time we had together.
I was torn, neither choice giving me anything to work with. Unless, the thought came to me, I didn't let her know I was awake at all. If she wanted to talk to me, she could wake me up. In that case, I could let her speak first and base my response on her words. And if she didn't, it would've been her choice not to say good-bye.
The doorknob turned and I made my decision. I closed my eyes and kept my breathing even. I heard her walking, then nothing for a minute or two. I risked opening my eyes a sliver. She was still here, standing at the desk and frowning at a piece of paper. As I watched, she wrote a few lines and set down the pen. I quickly closed my eyes and a moment later, I was glad I had. I felt more than heard her coming towards me and stop next to the bed.
The light brush of her lips against my forehead almost made me lose my resolve and then I felt a drip of liquid on my skin. My stomach twisted. She was crying. It took all of my self-control not to jump up and go to her. I hated knowing that I'd been the cause of her tears and the thought of her in pain made my own heart ache.
Dammit!
When I heard the main door close, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. Had
this been a bad idea? Should I have walked away at the club? Not gotten on the train? Not suggested we leave together? I'd had a dozen points where I could've walked away and I hadn't used any of them. Who knew how different things would've been if I'd done the smart thing. It seemed like all I did lately was second-guess my decisions.
I sat up. It didn't matter now. I made my choices and, for better or for worse, I had to live with the consequences. Unfortunately, one of those seemed to be a deeper attachment than I'd ever meant to have.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, ready to head into the bathroom for a long, hot shower. That's when I saw it. There was a folded piece of paper sitting on the table next to the bed. I didn't want to read it, but I picked it up anyway. It was brief and I read it three times before the words sunk in.
She planned to move on and she wanted me to do the same. She wished me all the best. I wished her the same. I just wished it could've been with me. She was right, and I hated it. We had to move past this. It was the best thing for everyone involved.
She'd go back to her family and her country. Marry whoever her parents had chosen for her. Become a mother and a queen. I'd finish my trip and figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life. We both might look back on these couple days fondly, but that's all they would be. Memories.
I ran my hand through my hair as I stood. It was time to let go. Time to do as she'd said and move on. Still, a part of me said to go after her, to tell her that we owed it to ourselves to see where this could go. I silenced the voice as I walked into the bathroom. Shower, then eat. After that, I’d move on with the rest of my life. Our time was up.
Continues in Exotic Desires Vol. 2. Click Here to download the complete box set.
Bonus Book 3: Twisted Affair Vol. 1
One
Blayne
My life was fuck-freaking-tastic. Seriously. I was rich and not bad on the eye, or so I’d been told. I didn't have to give a damn about responsibility or anything that even smelled like it. And none of that was in my head. It was all true.
Chiseled good looks that women said resembled some of Hollywood's hottest. A naturally muscular build that I didn't have to spend hours at the gym maintaining. I was tall, but not freakishly so. A nice six-three. And I was more than well-proportioned, or so I'd been told. I was still a year away from thirty, no signs of gray in my sandy brown hair and no thinning. I spent all my time getting high, drinking and either watching naked women dance, or fucking them.
Like I said, I had a fuck-freaking-tastic life.
Case in point, I was currently in Philadelphia's hottest strip club. It was exclusive, so only people like me got in. The place was packed with the gorgeous, the rich or the famous. A lot were more than one of those things, but only a few were like me and all three. Okay, so I wasn't stop-on-the-street famous, but there were plenty of people who knew who I was, especially here.
“Hey, Blayne,” a man called out over the music.
I looked up and grinned as my friend held out his hand. We shook and I felt cool plastic slide against my palm. My grin widened.
“Thanks, Neal.” I palmed the bag as I pulled back my hand. The cops didn't exactly frequent Exotica, and the club's security tended to look the other way, as long as people were discreet and no one caused problems. Every once in a while, someone would do a little too much coke, get a bit overly excited and have to be asked to leave, but most of the time, things were pretty calm.
Me, I didn't do cocaine or any heavy shit. Pot to relax. X when I wanted to party. Tonight, I wanted to party. I'd already had a couple lap dances out in the main room, but my goal was to get a private one.
I popped a pill into my mouth and waited for it to take effect. I turned my attention toward the stage where the newest batch of girls were coming on. Exotica only hired the best, which was one of the reasons I enjoyed coming here. These weren't tired old hags who'd been gyrating for years, picking up tricks on the side, or whatever track-marked girls they could find on the streets. Exotica's girls were in their early to mid-twenties, or at least looked it. And there was variety. Dark skin, light skin, blondes, brunettes, red-heads. Tall and skinny, short and curvy. Various combinations of body sizes. Innocent. Sultry. Wild. A little something for everyone.
I liked it all. I didn't really have a particular type when it came to women. I enjoyed them all.
And I was particularly enjoying one seriously hot brunette who was dancing at the front of the stage. She was tall, with gloriously long legs I wanted to feel wrapped around me. Her hair was shoulder length, perfect for grabbing during sex. And those tits. Fuck, they were gorgeous. Big and firm – there was no way they were real, but I wanted them in my hands anyway.
“Her name's Angelique.” Another buddy of mine shouted in my ear. Tommy and I had been friends for years, mostly because I had the money and he had the connections. Whatever I was in the mood for, he could get. And none of that knock-off shit. He only worked with premium grade. Worth every penny.
“You asking around?” I didn't take my eyes off her as she swayed, teasing the audience by exposing tanned skin one inch at a time. “Don't want to step on your toes.”
“Naw, go ahead.” Tommy leaned back and stretched his arms out along the back of the couch where we were sitting. “Rumor has it she's a real tiger in the sack.”
I looked over at him and he grinned at me.
“You know me,” he continued. “I prefer the passive ones.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to Angelique as she came toward the part of the stage closest to me. I never understood Tommy's preference. While I liked to be in charge in the bedroom, I didn't get the appeal of a woman who just laid there and took it. Where was the fun in that? I mean, she didn't have to be kinky or anything, but I at least wanted a response, someone who made it clear she was enjoying herself. I may not have been the kind of guy who'd call a girl the next day, but I prided myself on my reputation that I never left a partner unsatisfied.
I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. I usually tipped with twenties, but I wanted a private dance and hopefully more. The women who worked at Exotica weren't prostitutes, but the club didn't really enforce the 'hands off' rule if the ladies didn't complain. It was basically up to the women what they did and with whom. It wouldn't be the first time I'd headed to the back with one of the dancers.
Angelique's top was off by the time she bent over to let me hold out the folded bill. She glanced at it and then looked at me. I raised an eyebrow in question and she nodded. And that was that. As soon as she walked off the stage at the end of her show, I stood. I was already hard and everything had that nice, fuzzy edge that came with quality X.
“You need anything else?” Tommy asked.
I shook my head. I still had one tablet left and if Angelique didn't want it, I'd take it later. I may have been approaching thirty, but I was far from a 'one and done' kind of guy. I was hoping to get laid at least one more time tonight.
“You looking for a private dance?” Angelique was dressed again, if the skimpy thong and bra she was wearing could be considered dressed. Neither one seemed adequate enough to contain her considerable assets. Which, thank the fuck, was the purpose.
“And anything else you'd be willing to provide.” I smiled at her, watching as she looked me up and down.
“Follow me.” She walked toward the back where the private rooms were located.
Less than five minutes later, my shirt was off, she was naked and my cock was straining against my pants. Her body writhed against mine, her ass pressing down on my pants almost hard enough to hurt.
“Feels like you have a lot to offer,” she practically purred as she leaned back against me.
“Oh, I do.” I slid my arms up her stomach and grabbed onto those gorgeous tits. I pulled on her pierced nipples. “And I can give you something I'll bet few clients ever have.”
“Really?” She looked over her shoulder at me.
“I
can make you come harder than you ever have before.” I gave her my cockiest grin.
She stood up and turned toward me. Her feet pushed at mine, nudging my legs apart. “Why do you think I agreed to come back here with you?” She dropped to her knees. “I know who you are, Blayne Westmore. You have quite the reputation. I just hope it's not all talk.”
I gestured toward my crotch. “Why don't you find out?”
“Condom?”
Smart girl. I reached into my wallet and pulled out one of the several I always kept there. I had two more, just in case. I handed it to her and waited.
She opened my pants and I raised my hips enough so that she could pull them and my underwear down enough to free the rock-hard erection I'd been sporting for a while.
“Now that's a nice piece of work,” she said as she tore open the condom wrapper.
“I haven't had any complaints,” I said.
“I'll bet not,” she agreed as she wrapped one hand around the base of my cock, her fingers unable to touch until she'd slid her hand a third of the way up my length.
“Fuckin’ yeah,” I swore as she lowered her head and used her mouth to roll the condom onto my shaft. Damn that was hot! She was hot. Her hand. Her mouth. Her confidence. She didn't waste any time either, using her hand on what she couldn't take into her mouth.
Her hair brushed my thighs as my cock disappeared and reappeared before me. Her tongue worked around my cock and I wondered how it would feel without the latex between us. I never fucked bareback – no way was I going to risk knocking up some gold-digger or catch something that laughed at antibiotics – but I never insisted on a condom for oral. It was always the woman's choice.
Her free hand cupped my balls and I moaned in appreciation of her talent. She really knew what she was doing. When she took me as deep as she could without gagging, I gave her hair a little tug, my if-you-don’t-stop-now-I’m-going-to-come signal. If I was going to fulfill my promise and make her come, I needed her to stop right then or I was going to let her suck until I came. That would be a shame, since coming from oral when wearing a condom was pretty pointless in my opinion.