Me: Oh yeah?
Kale Kween: Yeah. So where should we meet?
Me: Would it be crass if we met at a hotel? Away from downtown. It’ll be a little quieter. I don’t want to run into someone who knows me.
Kale Kween: You have that happen often?
Me: Often enough that I don’t want it to happen as I’m trying to get a woman into a hotel room.
Kale Kween: Send me an address.
Fuck yes.
After confirming with Kale that she’s good to travel a few miles away from downtown, I book a room. I manage to speak to the manager, who knows me, and tell him I’ll be arriving a little after my “date.” He is to give her the room key, with instructions to stand by the sliding glass door, facing away from the room entrance. I’ve used this hotel more than once, and the manager has become an acquaintance. I give him tickets to the game when we’re in Chicago, and he doesn’t rat me out to any paparazzi.
I slip out a side door where I meet my driver. I’ve used the same company every time I’ve been in Chicago. I have trusted people all over the country, courtesy of traveling for games, and I don’t deviate from what I know. I’m striding into the meeting place twenty minutes later. Charles, the manager, hands me a key andquietly tells me the room number. I’m wearing a nondescript black baseball cap, a thick bomber jacket, and jeans. I’m hopeful that anyone glancing at me won’t recognize me, but I keep my head down just in case.
As I enter the room, I see Kale standing where I want her, and I’m pleased she obeys so well. While I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a Dom, I definitely like to be in control in the bedroom. It’s important that Kale recognizes the power dynamic now.
“Don’t turn around,” I say deeply as she begins to turn.
“Wh — why not?” she stammers, her voice breathy and perfect. I can already hear the edge she’s on, desperate for relief.
I shake off my coat, toss my hat to the side, and toe off my shoes. I’m behind her a few seconds later, my chest to her back. She’s tall. Taller than I thought she’d be, which makes no sense, because how can I assume height for someone I’ve never seen? I’m only four or five inches taller than her, which makes it easy for me to drop my head and kiss that perfect spot where her shoulder meets her neck. She smells … familiar. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s a scent I want to bathe in.
“I don’t have a lot of rules for the bedroom,” I murmur, smiling against her skin when she shudders. “I like to be in control. If you are uncomfortable with something, speak up. I can’t read your mind. Do you have any hard limits?”
Her breathing quickens as she nods. “Don’t tie my hands behind my back. It’s okay in front, but not behind me.”
Kale’s voice is quiet. Somewhat meek. A tremor of fury racks my body. What motherfucker tied her up like that? No. I don’t need the details. I only need to respect her boundaries. “I’d like to blindfold you, if that’s okay. We said no names, no faces. This keeps both of us safe so we can enjoy the moment. At any time, you may tell me to remove the blindfold. Do you have any other limits?”
She thinks for a moment. “I’m okay with a blindfold. That’s kind of hot, actually. As for any other limits, I can assure you I’m not into pain. If that’s something you like, then I guess I came all the way out here for nothing.”
I laugh quietly. “Nope. I don’t mind a little spanking here and there, though. Sometimes bad girls need to be reminded how naughty they are.”
Her body stiffens. “Can yo — can you not call me a bad girl? I really don’t like that. Hard limit.”
Woah. “Hard limit on bad girl, no pain, and no tying your hands behind your back. Anything else?”
“No, I think that’s it. But I’ll speak up if something happens that I don’t like. And you’ll do the same?” she asks, making me laugh. “Why is that funny?”
“It’s not funny. I’ve just never been asked that before.”
Kale shrugs, and her hair tickles my beard. As I carefully tie the blindfold around her head, she continues. “Consent is a two-way street, Ground Man. I like to ensure my sexual partners are on the same page as me. Unfortunately, I know what it’s like to have my thoughts and feelings viewed as unimportant. I don’t ever want to make someone else feel that way.”
Oh, someone is a dead man. “You want to share a name, sweetheart? No reason. Just want to have a conversation with the dude.”
Kale giggles, and the sound is perfectly melodic. “No. It was a few years ago, and he doesn’t live anywhere near me. I’m good.”
Alright then. Lifting a hand, I move her hair over to her right shoulder, continuing to press light kisses against her neck. I slide my hand around to bracket her neck, and I feel her breathing catch. She reaches back to grab both of my thighs, pulling me against her. I drag my hand down between her breasts, and she whimpers. As she rests her head against my shoulder, I get a whiff of pomegranate, and my body goes taut.
No. There’s no way.
Shaking my head to rid the ridiculous thought that Kale might be Layla, I slide my hand back up, grab her chin, and turn her head so I can reach her lips. I close my eyes as she sighs into my mouth. God, her lips are so fucking perfect. Just pillowy enough to be soft and buoyant, and when I drag my tongue along her bottom lip, she moans.
I wrap an arm around her hips, realizing her height means I can reach her pussy. I glide my index finger along the waistband of her pants, pausing to see if she speaks up, and when she’s quiet, I slip my hand into her panties. Kale is vibrating with energy as I slowly meander toward her pussy, enjoying how she digs her fingers into my thighs. I quickly skip over her clit, groaning when I feel how hot and wet she is, then laugh when Kale cries out. “No! Don’t skip over it! Please, I need to come so badly.”
Fuck. She sounds desperate, and while I normally would enjoy edging her until she’s a sobbing mess in my arms, I can’t seem to bring myself to do it to Kale. I want — no, Ineedto see her come. I need to feel her clench around me right fucking now. Slipping two fingers inside, her walls shudder around me, and her knees buckle. I force us both to step forward until Kale is wedged between me and the window. We’re on the seventeenth floor, so I doubt anyone can see us, but it makes me ask Kale a question. “Do you like this? How someone might be able to see? Know what we’re doing?”
