“I thought you wanted shopping and champagne this afternoon,” Jameson murmurs in his richly sensuous tone.He is so seductively dark and entrancing, I have completely forgotten about shopping and champagne.Unfortunately for me, two things are colliding at this moment, given our arrival at the VIP valet station.First, the limo comes to a halt.Second, out of the corner of my eye, I see a uniformed man approaching the vehicle to open the door. I can’t risk messing up my lipstick by kissing Jameson, with no time to fix it.Thus, with an inward sigh, I carefully extract myself from the hunkiest man on the planet and settle into my seat to collect myself. Then my belongings. As Jameson alights and turns back to me, I have my purse and coat in hand, leaving my laptop bag as he did. Apparently, he thoroughly trusts our driver with all our possessions, including the luggage in the trunk.He helps me into my coat as the valet holds a large umbrella over our heads while light flurries fall.J
The light fare is perfectly filling without the bloat. Yes, I am ultra-conscientious of my body in this incredibly tight dress as Jameson pulls back my chair and holds out a hand to me. I stand as he collects my clutch. Then he escorts me out of the restaurant. All eyes are on us again.I modestly comprehend the curiosity is wrapped solely around him. But I wishfully think that perhaps they all find me intriguing enough, as well, to justify being on his arm.That’s a tough notion to process and certainly not one I’m going to reconcile.In the grand scheme of things, I did orchestrate something that has led us to this moment, by originally putting myself up for auction. Then by perpetuating what was only meant to be a fantasy. However, in all reality… I’m nowhere near being in this man’s league, regardless of any clever, though mostly desperate, maneuvering on my part.What this all propagates is a tinge of insecurity that is coupled with a more daring conception of at least attempting
“I’m willing to wait as long as necessary,” he says.I eye him, with a small smile. “You have high expectations.”“The highest.”“Gee, no pressure there.” I laugh softly. Honestly, I should be shaking in my Pradas, but I think I can totally nail the look for this second portion of our evening. Thus, I finish my water, deposit the glass on Simon’s silver tray, and bounce off to the room he’s recommended for me.All of my new dresses are hanging in the closet and the butler has efficiently unpacked me. I keep my hair in the ponytail, given the style will show off the necklace. I darken my cosmetics, though, creating smokier eyes and thickening my lashes and brows. The makeup artist at the salon found the perfect shade of lipstick to match the pearls and I love the cranberry hue, with a slight shimmer.I slip into a sliver of a dress, in an almost identical color. It’s tight at the hips and has a ridiculously short hem that just barely covers my ass. The waist has gathered material that
It’s not really a question that needs to be posed. Obviously.Except… There are now myriad thoughts invading my mind.Erotic ones, wrapped around voyeurism.Jealous ones, considering Jameson might have just ordered an orgy for us to participate in—and I’m not interested in sharing this man.And anxious ones, because this might be the place where he demonstrates his dominance, bringing the collar into play.Oh, shit.I pull in a few deep breaths. Then I suck down half my glass of bubbly. And breathe some more.Beside me, Jameson casually takes a drink. The entire scene is elegantly sensuous, with the glamourous chandelier and sconces on a dim setting, the plush furniture and the fancy décor. The incredibly hot and hunky male who’s orchestrating all of this. He’s amazingly cool and collected. Like this is nothing out of the ordinary for him.And, suddenly, I wonder if that’s true.I more carefully query, “Been here before?”Okay, that’s not the least bit cautious. I dove right in, didn
There’s a soft knock on our door.Jameson says, “It’s fine to enter.”Our attendant has returned. Just in time to refresh our flutes. Then he crosses to the far wall and uses a remote to slide back the panels, which collapse into each other and display an enormous plate of glass.I instinctively know this overlooks everything downstairs that was behind the partitions.I slip from the sofa and go to the viewing window, my champagne in hand. There it is, the scene that’s straight out of Eyes Wide Shut. A treasure trove of wicked doings. Only, again, there are no masks. No one is hiding behind… Anything.Interestingly, it’s a very classy setting, with over-the-top decadence. This isn’t low-budge porn or actors you pay by the hour. These people are real, in the sense of their various shapes and sizes and ethnicities. In their absolute reckless abandonment.They are here for their pleasure—and to pleasure others.With his remote, the attendant turns up the volume, so that the moans and the
I mean “personal” in a different capacity than what we’ve touched on recently. But I can’t fully define the term, because it’s so damn complex.We’ve been insanely intimate with each other, yes. However, that doesn’t transcend us to a “relationship” status beyond the sexual one I have reminded myself is the core of our current out-of-office association.And I likely didn’t help myself by getting so intense with Jameson just now.Yet… He doesn’t appear put out.He is on edge, though. And that makes him even sexier.Jesus, is he sexy.His jaw works and his shoulders set.I am suddenly desperate to enter an erotic rite of passage and slip to the floor of the limo, press his legs apart, unzip his pants and make him come.The desire to do so burns through me.But I want to enjoy him at my leisure, not be in a rush.I one-thousand percent do not want to be in a rush.So I divert my thoughts from wicked ones to the track we were on previously, saying, “Sorry if I cost you money at the club.”
~ Nikki ~Jameson’s deeply contemplative as we roll to a stop. I don’t prompt him to speak. Sometimes, he delves into the far recesses of his mind, and I’ve learned to recognize when he’s in need of taking a moment or two to reflect and regroup.Sure, I’d love to know what he’s thinking. But there’s something about the way he gets lost in his brain that fascinates me, holds me captive. He is not a man who acts impulsively. In fact, I believe he constantly has wheels churning in his head, over a multitude of subjects and decisions he has to make.I’ve always found that enticing. Even more so, though, since I can say—of late—I suspect those wheels are also churning over me.The car door opens and he stealthily exits the limo, as though he’s been in the present, fully cognizant, this whole time. Another thing that’s scintillating about him, and the tingles ripple along my inner thighs, straight to my ankles, spreading over my toes so they scrunch up a bit, momentarily.He reaches back to
~ Jameson ~ “What girl would balk at that?” she counters, wantonly.“You’re no girl,” I correct. “You are one-thousand percent woman. And then some.”She laughs, so very softly. It’s a titillating sound, coming from someone I have discovered is no delicate flower. Granted, she has her fragile moments. But Nikki also has a fierce side. One I respect and admire.I help her out of her shoes and then settle her on the edge of the bed. I spread her thighs with my hands and wedge between them as she shoves my jacket over my shoulders, loosens my tie, then unravels it. Her eyes lock with mine as she starts to unbutton my shirt.The flicker of mischief in her irises compels me to say, “Fuck it,” and I yank the flap apart, sending buttons flying. “Not like I don’t have a dozen more of these on hangers,” I mutter.She bites her lip. Then she tells me, “That’s hot, Jameson.”The glow that tinges her beautiful face jerks something deep within me. So that I can’t ignore it.I strip off the shirt.
~ Nikki ~I’d question anybody else’s ability to divert our attention when I’ve dropped a colossal bombshell, such as agreeing to carry someone’s baby, but this is Jameson Richards I’m dealing with.I’m well aware he’s going to take a deep dive into this surrogacy concept I’ve just agreed to, yet he isn’t derailing our private moments in lieu of immediately jumping into his personal agenda. I know he’s more than capable of abandoning an intimate rendezvous to pursue a business transaction; however, as he engages me in the type of tongueless kisses that are meant to languidly reignite our passion without jarring us from the seriousness of what I’ve just shared with him and which eases us back into that seductive lane, I’m convinced he’s not inclined to desert a coveted interlude with me.“You’re smiling,” he muses as his mouth glides over mine.“Just thinking our roller coaster is of the corkscrew variety. Plenty of twists and turns.”“And a few cliffhangers.”“Everyday with you is une
~ Jameson ~I’m taken aback.This shouldn’t be the moment we hit upon a life-altering decision regarding this specific subject. It’s always percolating in the back in my brain, clearly. Constantly. However, I’m not expecting it to be on hers. At least… not right now.Hell, even I’m a little fuzzy in the head as my cock is throbbing and I’m gazing at her, naked and snuggled close. She’s just come with a ferocity that rocks me to the core, and now she’s staring at me with absolute amazement in her eyes over the orgasm—and her current epiphany. As a result, I’m also completely mind blown.I crook a brow, prompting her to continue.After all, one does not simply announce they’ll have your baby and then move onto another topic, like you’re merely discussing the weather. Even if it’s to pivot so that we’re back on track with the sexy times. Much as my body is strained to the point of snapping, what’s more important is what she’s deliberating over.Given that she doesn’t appear to have the w
~ Jameson ~I free her from her restraints. Rub her wrists. Then I remove her blindfold.She bats her lashes at me. She smiles, beguilingly, looking quite satisfied and dreamy. Her eyelids are only at half-mast, the partial irises shimmering.Her chest is rising and falling a bit quicker than normal, but not erratically. Her skin has a light rosy tint to it and the hint of goosebumps.I see a shiver run through her and she sighs contentedly.“That was…” Her lids flutter closed. She laughs softly. Then they open and she says just one word: “Fantastic.”I chuckle. “I do aim to please.”“Oh, God…” Now, her eyes all but roll into the back of her head. “Do you ever.”I like how she doesn’t temper her responses when she’s this entranced, this euphoric.I peel back the covers on my side and maneuver her under them. Then I crawl in next to her and she immediately snuggles close to me, her body curling into mine. Her flesh is warm and her curves are enticing.She twines her arms around my neck
~ Nikki ~I successfully manage to not destroy this gorgeous piece of furniture, but that doesn’t mean I won’t spontaneously combust, burst into flames and otherwise incinerate this luxurious bedding.Breathing is simply not an option at present. The fiery sensations consuming me are all I can focus on. They blaze through my veins, leaving a sizzling trail in their wake. My inner muscles clutch Jameson’s fingers, not relinquishing their hold on him as I draw out every single ounce of pleasure he’s just given me.I’d never discount his ability to get me off with ease—he’s that skilled and I’m that hot for him. But tonight, in addition to the blindfold adding an element of mystique… His technique is also magical. Extremely commanding.Plus, he’s paying tribute to all the tiny spots that feel like electrical zings when he touches them, licks them, suckles them. I’d had no idea I had so many sensitive areas on my body until Jameson discovered them. And chances are damn good, he’s nowhere
~ Nikki ~I can read into his intentions.Perhaps, more importantly, I can buy into his intentions.I comprehend there’s a very fine line to walk, between him wanting everything he wants, and understanding that he can’t necessarily have everything he wants.For a powerful man like Jameson Richards, that has to be pure torture.And since he’s articulated a particular want—an extreme one, at that—which was ultimately met with resonant silence from the person he wants it from, he has to right his axis. This is how he plans to do it.Can’t say I mind.There is a wild thrill running through me over all the unknown variables presented. The inherent danger here is that I can only take a stab at what he might be up to, without fully knowing. Because he can tie me up and make me surrender to him… Or he can abandon the kinky items he’s just laid out and go straight for the kill.As I gaze at him and his jaw works rigorously, I see he’s contemplating the two options as well.And the satisfying
~ Nikki ~I duck into the en suite to brush my teeth, then spritz a light fragrance in the air. I walk through the mist, just to pick up the essence of it. I slip out of the robe and into a peek-a-boo nightie with a violet, lacy, angled bra-bodice that dips low between my breasts and is extremely revealing. The skirt is lavender charmeuse, with a short hem in front and a longer one in back, creating a soft, rippled effect. There are matching, lacy slippers, but I don’t bother with them. I do, however, opt for the charmeuse thong. The satiny material is irresistible.I pass Jameson as he’s headed in the direction of the bathroom. His gaze roves my body, his jaw tightens and heat flares in his eyes. He makes to divert his trajectory and, instead, follow me to the bed, but he stops himself. Lets out a low rumble and says, “Just give me a minute.”“Not like I’m going to fall asleep when I know what awaits…” I wag my brows, suggestively.It has become infinitely easier to flirt with this m
~ Nikki ~I have not a single coherent thought in my brain, and it has nothing to do with the lovely buzzing state I’ve returned to as I relax under scented bubbles and sip from an uncouthly filled glass of wine. A serious double-pour if ever there was one. I’m extra careful not to spill as I tip the rim toward me and take a deeper drink.Every fiber of my being is screaming that I am way, way, wayyyy over my head with Jameson Richards. At the same time, I’m appreciative that he’s not breathing down my neck or pacing alongside the tub, expectantly, waiting for me to say something.For the most part, we arrived at this particular juncture in a very straight-forward manner and yet… No. I feel as though we’ve taken one of those scary-AF, sliver-thin roads that are cut into craggy mountain sides that you see posted on Instagram or Facebook. The caption always asks, “Would you?” and I always, vehemently declare, “Oh, hell no!” To no one in particular.And yet… I’ve gone and found one of th
~ Nikki ~I certainly don’t have to voice the query that seeks clarification of his highly unanticipated remark. It’s quite obvious he’s as bewildered as I am.He hadn’t intended to heave the sentiment into the universe—and I have the distinct feeling he’s not even fully sure of its true or full meaning.He pours bottled water into two crystal tumblers and passes one to me. I sip in silence, knowing we still have a lengthy drive and it’s going to be an uncomfortable one.Though… Playing it cool doesn’t really work for me. Pretending I didn’t hear what I heard isn’t going to fly. With every passing second, the demand for an explanation becomes more insistent, so that it’s clawing up my throat and I can’t even swallow down the raging curiosity with the water.Suddenly, I involuntarily blurt, “What was that?”He very casually retorts, “That was us not being able to make it to the villa without tearing each other’s clothes off. Even though we’re only ten more minutes away.”“Ten minutes?”
~ Nikki ~I ignore my own internal query and add, “Much as I’d enjoy dinner with you, I do have a full itinerary.”I pray this is diplomatic and tactfully delivered.Marco tips his glass to me and easily contends, “Next time.”No one is nonplussed. They polish off their cheesecake, wine and espresso. I force myself to do the same. We all share departing pleasantries, and Jameson and I are returned to the main entrance and building, alongside the olive orchard. I excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room.I’m admittedly tipsy as I meet up with him at the car.He, on the other hand, is a tad stoic. And rigid again.I take my own wild gander at what has him on edge. Leaning into him, I murmur, “You didn’t really consider I’d accept Marco’s invitation, did you?”“You enjoyed flirting with him,” he simply counters.“Because I can’t flirt with you,” I whisper. “Not in public.”His jaw sets.There is clearly something on his mind. Something serious.I’ll have to take a stab at drawing it out o