I don’t move, not trusting him. “With Claire,” I say. It is not a question, and I watch him lick his lips nervously before shaking his head.
“No, she’s too new,” he replies. “And not into women.” Thinking of the passion behind her kisses just hours before, I disagree, but it’s not worth the breath to argue. I want her and only her.
“Let me make myself clear. Claire is who I want. All evening.”
Johnny sighs. “Okay, but it will cost you a grand.” I can tell he thinks this amount will dissuade me, yet I reach into my coat for my billfold and produce five one-hundred-dollar bills.
“Half now,” I say. “Half after I see it is her.” I won’t allow a bait and switch. He eyeballs the money hungrily.
“Deal. Follow me and then I’ll go tell her.”
I hold up a hand. “Do not tell her it is me waiting.” I long to see the look on her face when she steps into our room and realizes I am the one asking for her.
“Whatever gets you going,” Johnny says with a shrug. “But I’m telling you again, you could do a lot better. I have anything you want. Big tits? Flexible? Dressed as a vampire? Got ‘em. Name it.”
“Claire,” I say and wave him forward. “Just her.”
He leads me upstairs and through a hallway of curtains covering doorways, much like a hotel. This place is nothing more than a brothel and makes me sick to know women are made to work here against their consent. My breath comes quick, and as I follow Johnny’s back, the itch to wrap my hands around his throat and bash his head into the wall is intense. Later. He will get his due later from one of my henchmen. Then Johnny will know what it is like to be exploited and forced to do things he doesn’t want.
Pulling aside one of the curtains, Johnny steps back and lets me enter. The space is small, no more than three by three, with an oversized black vinyl chair at the center. Cheap champagne is icing in a bucket near the door and mirrors cover two of the walls. The lights from the ceiling are muted and dim, giving the room more of sinister air then sexy in my opinion. Whips and handcuffs would fit in here, and although I know extreme pleasure can be had from toys like those, I want nothing but the excitement of our bodies tonight. “You know the rules, right?” Johnny asks as I enter and turn around. “No touching her. She can touch you if she wants, but you keep your hands and any other body parts to yourself.” He points to an obscure switch on the wall by the champagne. “That’s her panic button. If you do something she doesn’t like, she uses it.” The bastard grins. “And then I have my bouncers fuck you up.”
I nod. “I understand.” Claire won’t need a panic button. She will perform for me of her own free will or not at all. Ignoring his ridiculous threat at my bodily harm, I go to the chair and sit. “You can go,” I instruct him and clearly, he doesn’t like being told what to do, but he’s weak and a coward, so leaves without another word. The curtain falls shut, and I wait in the near dark. My mind races, as does my heart. As much I want to believe Claire will be pleased to see me, there is the slightest chance I am assuming too much. The parking lot was erotic and hot, but I know I can be very persuasive and now the woman has had time to think about it. She might regret letting me touch her. The thought makes my chest tighten with unexpected anxiety. I never feel like this, yet wanting her makes me care. I need her to realize she desires me too, because I know from her eyes and her body, she does.
Tapping my fingers on the arms of the chair, even though it could be no more than two minutes, my impatience mounts. The knowledge I will see her any second makes my body throb with anticipation. Everywhere. Then, as if I’ve conjured her, the curtain wavers, and I see her hand at the edge. Hesitant. No doubt she is having second thoughts about her decision, and my heart fills with respect for her. I know her outlook for the future is dire, else she would never do this, and I look forward to the day I can assure her everything in her life will be okay. For now, I take control. “Ask if you may enter,” I order her. Again, a pause at the curtain, and I wonder if she recognizes my voice. I hope she does. I want her to know what awaits her.
“May I enter?” she asks in just above a whisper.
“Yes.”
The curtain moves further, and Claire slips in before letting it swing closed behind her. I look at her while allowing her eyes to adjust to the light. The dress she wears is simple and black, with the zipper on the side. Something short and sexy, yet practical. Like a woman might wear to a cocktail party. I love it. I love that she isn’t dressed like a slut, but tastefully, leaving me to imagine what she might wear beneath rather than shove it in my face. Her hair is loose and flows blonde over her shoulders. A golden mane I itch to run my hands through and take hold. There is just enough makeup to accent her beauty, but for the lipstick. This is red and so sensual on her mouth, I am ready to climb from my chair and devour her.
“It’s you,” she whispers.
“It’s me. Is that all right?”
I watch as she bites her bottom lip, considering. My heart nearly stops as I wait for her answer. Even though I know I can seduce her if I choose, I have that power over women, I want her to come to me by choice. To desire me, the person, and not the billionaire. “Yes,” she finally breathes. “But I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t know how to do this.”
Her words are so sincere and innocent, I have to grit my teeth to keep from grabbing her to tear the dress away and ravish every inch of her skin. Instead, I let out a slow breath. “Do what your body wants,” I instruct. “I can’t touch you. All I can do is desire you.”
Claire licks her lips. I know she doesn’t even know she is doing that, but it comes from a response to the attraction she feels toward me. It’s a telltale sign she wants my mouth on hers. “I’ll try,” she answers. “But I need you to talk to me. Let me know I’m doing what you like.”
My body flares with heat at the request. Giving instruction is something I do well, and I cannot contain the smile playing on my lips. “All right,” I start. “Unzip your dress.”
9
As I watch, Claire bites her lip again but obeys. Perfectly. Ever so slowly, she draws down the zipper of her black dress. Prolonging the moment while watching my face. I cannot keep the hunger from my eyes and no doubt seeing it, even in the dim light, she shivers. “Can I take it off?” she asks, and I nod.
“Just as slowly,” I say not surprised my voice is deep and husky. My want for her is almost overwhelming. Sitting in this chair, obeying the rules, is not easy for someone like me. I live for action, especially when it comes to sex with a beautiful woman. Pleasing my partner to a state of utter euphoria is essential to me. I like knowing no one has ever made her come harder, for longer. Claire will see, in due time. For now, I force myself to be patient as she slides her hands inside her dress, lingering over her breasts, and then pushes it to the floor where it pools around red stiletto heels I only just now notice because of the shadows in the room. They match the lipstick, and I feel my body twitch. I imagine her in nothing but those heels, under my tongue with her legs in the air.
And they are beautiful legs, long, toned, and as I let my eyes travel back up them, I pause to take in her lingerie. Again, I am pleased. The black and white lace and satin of the sweetheart corset top, cupping her breasts, and the matching panties are sexy to the point of distraction, but tasteful too—the combination I most desire. She stands, almost shyly, letting me look at her. The burning low on my body grows stronger.