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She took me, back arching, and all that magnificent sweat rolled down her perfect, wonderful skin. I slapped her ass and kept going as her pleasure mounted, her moans getting louder, her words unintelligible, because there were no words anymore, this was physical, pure and animal and physical, it was the thing I didn’t know could transform me, but as I felt her come, her pussy clenching and dripping, her head throw back, her moans coming loud and wild, I knew I was changed, or at least I would change—for her, I’d try.
I came inside her moments later in a white-hot bliss.
We sat together, panting and sweating. It felt like hours had passed. She kissed my chest, and I kissed her lips, and pulled at her hair, and marveled at how small she was. I could throw her around if I wanted—and I did want that, I wanted it very much.
“Is this what you had in mind when you said you had to come over?” she asked, leaning up against my chest.
“Not exactly,” I said. “But as soon as you let me inside, it might’ve crossed my mind.”
She let out a little laugh then looked up at me. “What do we do now? I mean, that’s a line we can’t uncross, right?”
“I don’t want to uncross it.” I kissed her softly. “I thought I’d stay over for a while.”
“Oh, did you?” She grinned a little and I could tell she liked the idea. “I hadn’t invited you.”
“You will though, because in a few minutes, I’m going to want to do that again.”
She chewed her lip. “Are you?”
“Absolutely. Then when I’m finished with you, which might take a while, and I promise you’ll enjoy every second, then we can talk business.”
“What sort of business?”
“The sort that’ll help get us out of this very bad situation.”
“Coming up with a plan already?”
“I’ve got ideas. You’re very inspiring.” I ran my fingers through her hair. “Should I stay then?”
“Yes, doctor,” she said, sitting up and looking at me, one elbow on the back of the couch. I let my eyes roam along her body, along the graceful curve of her neck, her chin, her nose, those bright, pretty eyes.
“This might take a while. Think you can handle it?”
“Absolutely.”
I leaned forward and kissed her with every intention of taking my fill of her and much more.
19
Lori
He picked me up in a black car I didn’t recognize. I was cold in my short, forest-green cocktail dress, and it took two hours to get my hair just right.
He smiled, cocked his head, and noticed. “You look good.”
“You look good yourself.” I smiled and leaned across the car and kissed him.
He caught me before I could move back to my side and kissed my lips for a long moment.
I sat back, flushed a little, and smiled like a moron.
He hadn’t been kidding that night, when he said he wanted to take me some more. It wasn’t until after midnight when we finally started talking about what to do, and even then, he wanted more—one final taste before bed. I felt sore and happy for the week after.
Part of me thought he was joking when he invited me to a charity gala. The idea of Piers going to any sort of event seemed too hilarious to picture, especially not one that required fancy outfits and plenty of mingling with donors and the like—and yet he really did show up, and he really was dressed in a black, perfectly tailored suit, and he really did look fantastic.
“Phase one of the plan,” he said, pulling the car into traffic. “Now, remember, you’re not here as my date.”
“What is the story, anyway?”
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he sped toward a banquet hall out in west Philadelphia, near the University of Pennsylvania. “I’m bringing you to network. Which means you have to network.”
“You could always tell people I’m your assistant.”
He snorted. “Nobody would believe it.”
“And would they believe that you’re going to an event like this to begin with?”
“Fair point.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll make the rounds and see if there’s anyone you should suck up to.”
His jaw flexed. He wasn’t happy about this, that much was obvious, but that night we’d talked about the plan, which boiled down to this: Piers was going to do his best to play the game, make nice, and hope that Caroline and Gina changed their minds about him.
It was spotty at best, but this hospital gala was the first step. He’d been invited, like every prominent doctor was invited, and normally he would’ve ignored the whole thing—but I talked him into showing up.
Of course, I hadn’t expected him to really follow through, but it was a pleasant surprise.
He parked in a garage reserved for the event and we crossed the street to a relatively large and upscale hotel. It had a classic facade with lots of extensive brickwork and columns, while the interior was on the modern side, with lots of marble floors and simple but chic decorations. The main ballroom was over near the bar, and men and women in expensive clothes lounged around, drinking and talking.
