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“Patience, Sugar. I’m calling the shots, and you’ll just have to go along with me,” he said.
He thought she might fight, but she threw her head back and relaxed her thighs.
“Fine,” she whispered, and he went back to reward her wet slit with soft kisses.
Her legs shivered.
He worked her up and down, languidly licking until her legs went from shivering to vibrating. Then he paused and dove deep to tongue-stroke her firmly, ending with swirls around the hard bud of her clit.
Every swirl made her twitch, starting at her hips and finally convulsing her whole body. When she murmured, “I’m coming,” he slowed down. When her body tensed in frustration, he picked up the pace and moved his tongue in a new direction.
He didn’t torment her beyond three rises, draping one of her thighs over his shoulder when he was ready. He pressed against her, sucking at her clit until her body exploded all around him.
He wrapped an arm around her slim waist, keeping her balanced until her body calmed.
When she seemed composed, he stood, wiping his sleeve on the juices that coated his beard.
She looked at him haughtily, curiously.
“Do you want to…” she asked, her knees moving hesitantly apart.
“I’m good,” he said, giving her a satisfying grin.
He could tell he’d shaken her world in a way she didn’t want to admit.
She hopped off the bike, grabbed her raincoat, and adjusted her skirt. Instead of a look of longing that Tally had worn earlier, this woman’s expression was all business.
Now would come the time where she’d asked to exchange information. Her saucy look had him reaching for the phone. She would be a distraction, but maybe that would be okay.
“That was fun,” she said, then stepped off his leather chap which still lay on the ground. “Oh, sorry.”
“No worries,” he said, picking it up and draping it over the seat.
“Well, enjoy Seattle,” she said, giving a fingertip wave and strutting away.
“Enjoy… what?” he asked, confused about what was happening.
She didn’t respond, just walked more quickly. Her heels tapped against the alley pavement, fading as she rounded the corner and disappeared.
Well, fuck.
6
Nita swiped her wristband against the sensor and waited as the black gate opened. Working on a Saturday wasn’t unusual. No, what was unusual was her getting hung up on a sexual encounter that she couldn’t categorize in her journal.
She glanced at the leather-wrapped Fuck Book peeking out from under her purse on the passenger seat. Hidden inside was an empty page marked “Mitchell,” followed by yesterday’s date and time, then… nothing. Even taking a few quiet moments in the car before she headed to work hadn’t helped unscramble her thoughts about the encounter.
Pulling onto the Cavendish estate, she drove past the first of nine themed properties. Her mind was a blank on how to describe the delicious orgasm Mystery Mitchell had given her. A guy had never stumped her when it came to journalling about her sex partners. Was Mitchell literally indescribable?
“Impossible,” she huffed, passing the Savannah House driveway on her way to her office.
The English Manor was the sixth property and the location of Cavendish Club’s headquarters. As always, marking the copper signs with each property’s name flipped a switch that shut down personal thoughts and got her into work mode.
Cavendish was a fantasy world built for the ultra-affluent, but the technology it used to uncover each person’s unique sexual turnons was something that hit her right in the values. Sex positivity was something she cherished, and she would never leave Cavendish unless it actually shut down.
She’d live on the estate if she could, probably in the Medieval Castle. And she’d dress up in a different costume every day and wouldn’t care if any of the women who ran the place laughed at her for showing up at meetings in the transparent Maid Marion gown.
Unfortunately, they only extended the perk of living on site to owners and consultants who were being trained. She was an employee, and if she couldn’t afford to buy into Kensley’s firm, she definitely couldn’t—and wouldn’t—buy into Cavendish, no matter how much she believed in the technology. The women who ran it were sorority sisters, and the only group of women she truly trusted was her derby team.
