The couch he was seated on was next to a marble fireplace, and the plush wine-red carpeting gave the lobby bar a rich, old-money feel to it. It was like a private club. He rose and planted a kiss on one cheek, then the other. Then, a deep, possessive kiss on her mouth. As if he were marking her.
When they pulled apart, she felt dazed. Her head was foggy. The details of the day, of her talk, of her chat with Julien and Denis scattered on the ground. She didn’t mind, though; her day had been amazing, and now she was going to take her reward. Jack would be her dessert.
“Did you bring down the house?” he asked, as he gestured for her to sit next to him. She did, crossing her legs. He watched her.
“You’re staring at my legs,” she said.
“I know. I’m thinking about them draped on my shoulders.”
She laughed. “I need a scotch.”
He signaled the waiter, and ordered a drink for her as well. “So?” he asked, returning to their conversation.
“It was amazing. I was so energized. I really felt like I was connecting with the audience, and they were responding and learning. It was incredible,” she said, and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face if she tried. Professional pride coursed through her. “Days like this remind me that I am so utterly lucky to be able to do what I love for a living.”
He held up his glass in toast. “To the smartest, sexiest, most wonderful woman I know. Congrats on a job well done,” he said, and a minute later, the waiter brought her drink, so they toasted once more. She took a swallow, then shared more details of her day. The conversation helped keep the focus on the type of relationship she and Jack were having—a temporary one. “I’m not exaggerating when I say I think this day is one of the highlights of my career,” she added.
She was tempted to bring up last night, if only to let him know he should simply forget what she’d said, to free him of any sense of obligation. She didn’t want him to worry that she’d misunderstood their arrangement. She was a modern woman; she could handle this. She could adhere to the fine details of their verbal agreement. But she’d have to find the right moment for that, because whatever she had to say, she had to say it lightly. It had to be believable when she told him to forget she’d ever tried to bring love into the equation. She needed to be able to laugh it off, as if it were in the heat of the moment only—the rain, the perfume, Paris.
“Do you have any idea how unbelievably attractive it is that you love what you do so much?”
“Thank you. I could say the same about you.”
He nodded. “I can’t imagine not running Joy Delivered. I’m a lucky man to be able to do what I love, and to run it with my sister, who’s pretty much my best friend.”
“That calls for another toast. Just because,” she said, smiling as they clinked glasses once more, keeping their focus on matters of business and pleasure. “Did you approve any fantastic new vibrators today?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No. I did this instead,” he said, reaching into his pocket and handing her a small velvet bag.
“You have a thing for shopping, it seems.”
“For you,” he said. “Open it.”
She tugged at the drawstring and peeked inside. Immediately, her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson.
“Are you embarrassed?”
“No,” she whispered, closing the bag. “I’ve never used one.”
“Wear it to dinner,” he said in that confident, controlling voice that sent hot tingles racing down her chest, settling between her legs. “It’s part of the preparation.”
“I’m suddenly very hungry,” she said, losing interest for the moment in conversation. Her focus narrowed solely to pleasure. That was Jack’s true forte, after all. That was what he was good for. That was the only way he could be in her life for these last few nights.
She wanted to make the most of them. To savor every second of these nights with him.
He knocked back the rest of his drink, and she did the same.
“Let’s go upstairs first,” he said, and they made their way to the elevator, then to their room.
* * *
In the shower, she washed the day off her, and he did the same. Then he lathered up his hands, and slid them around to her ass, running the soap over her cheeks, then gently near her rear. Her breath hitched as he teased at her.
“Not yet,” he murmured, then turned her around, rinsing her thoroughly. Holding her face gently in his hands, he leaned her head back under the hot stream, letting the water wash away the conditioner. After he turned off the shower, he handed her a thick, soft towel and she dried herself. He wrapped his towel around his waist. Then he took the towel from her, hung it up on a hook, and walked her over to the vanity.
“I’m naked and you’re not,” she said with a pout.
“If it were up to me, you’d be naked all the time with me, so this seems like the way things should be,” he said, reaching for her body lotion, pumping some into his palms then dropping down to his knees and smoothing the lotion into her bare legs. She sighed happily, relishing the way he was taking care of her body. That was his specialty, and he knew it so well. He was a master at turning her on, even in the more gentle ways as he moved up to her belly, her hips, then her arms, rubbing lotion into her skin. He cupped her butt in his hands, smoothing lotion across her ass as a groan escaped his throat. Then he spun her around so she was facing the mirror.
He met her reflection in the glass. “Look at how beautiful you are,” he said, dropping his mouth to her shoulder, planting a kiss, then gently biting her skin. She felt beautiful as he looked at her. That could only be helpful, feeling beautiful, she reasoned. It could only help her to keep moving on.
He reached for a small clear bottle on the white marble vanity, drizzled some lube onto a few fingers, then returned to her backside once more, all the while keeping his eyes locked on her in the mirror.
“If anything doesn’t feel good, just tell me to stop. At any point,” he said as he teased at her back entrance. She lifted her ass for him, giving him all the access he needed.
She shook her head. “I know it will feel good,” she said, as he pushed a finger into her. She gasped from the pressure, closing her eyes from the quick hit of pleasure that burst through her.
“Just getting you ready,” he said, then reached for the bag on the counter, taking out the jeweled butt plug he’d bought for her while she was delivering her keynote. To think, this afternoon she’d been the respected psychologist from New York speaking to a crowd of hundreds of colleagues about serious relationship matters and treatment modalities, and tonight she was Jack’s lover, cheeks spread, ready to receive a jeweled pleasure toy in her ass. A Joy Delivered product, of course, the toy was silver, shaped like a rounded bullet and with a sturdy base. On the base, was a deep purple fake gem.