Date Night (6 page)

Olivia rolled her eyes even though she loved hearing him say this - as she was sure he knew. James was endearingly proud of being romantic. “How do you know our friends aren’t soulmates as well? Can’t soulmates be grumpy?”

James cocked his head, his expression the one he got any time he heard an idea that started his gears turning. His willingness to entertain other people’s viewpoints was part of what made him an excellent CEO.

“I suppose they could be,” he said.

“And,” Olivia said, encouraged by his attitude, “how do you know for sure
I’m
everything you need in a partner?”

And then she saw it: the tiniest shadow shuttering his friendly hazel eyes. At first, she thought the emotion the shadow inspired in her was fear. Her chest did go tight, and adrenaline certainly surged into her veins. When she looked inside herself, however, fear wasn’t what she found. James loved her. That she knew as surely as the earth going round the sun. Strange as it sounded, she thought her reaction to the idea that James had a secret might be excitement.

Intrigued, she sat up and looked down at him, her hand pressed to the place where her heart pounded in her chest. They both liked to swim every morning before they drove to work, and she was nearly as fit as him. Her red bikini wasn’t something she was embarrassed to be seen in. On the other hand, the way her nipples beaded painfully tight beneath it made her a tad self-conscious. Luckily, James was peering into her eyes right then.

But maybe it wasn’t nice to call that lucky when his expression was so

concerned.

“There
is
something,” she breathed, giving voice to her suspicions.

“Something you want that I’m not giving you.”

“Liv,” he cautioned.

“Is it the games?” she asked, her pulse drumming harder. “Do you wish we played them more often?”

He blushed, something he almost never did. His coloring was naturally dark, and usually it hid embarrassment. She glanced at his Speedo, which he carried off a good deal better than most men half his age - and never mind that his choice of swimwear sometimes gave their twenty-something daughter conniptions. If Violet had been around, instead of minding the store at Forster Media, he’d have had to cover himself. His cock was swelling inside the stretchy fabric, the swiftness of its rise and his not insignificant size creating an effect that was thoroughly X-rated.

Apparently, he couldn’t make it go down by reciting baseball scores. As soon as he saw her notice, his hard-on jerked bigger.

Olivia bit her lip and laughed. “You know I like our games, right? I have made that clear to you?”

“I never want to pressure you.”

She cupped his erection gently, hoping the touch was reassuring as well as pleasurable. The latter certainly seemed to be true. His entire bulging package jumped in her hold, his heat and hardness causing her to liquefy.

Violet wouldn’t have wanted to know about that either.

“You never pressure me,” she said. “Some of my favorite memories of us in bed are watching you go wild from me taking charge. What turns you on turns me on. It’s as simple as that.”

To her amazement, tears glazed her husband’s eyes. “I feel the same,” he said huskily.

“Oh sweetheart!” she cried, because he was almost too emotional to get the declaration out.

In that moment, she couldn’t think she was wrong to take such joy in pleasing him. She wasn’t a fifties throwback, as Sherri sometimes accused. James deserved every bit of adoration she gave him.

She swung one leg over his thighs even as he sat up to meet her. He took her face between his strong olive hands. Everything fell away but him, her universe filled with his tenderness. “I love you, Liv. Even more than you understand. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

He kissed her before she could swear that would never happen. He might like being dominated, but the way he kissed was all man. Twenty years hadn’t dulled the magic of his lips pressing hers open, of his tongue sliding sleek and hard against hers. He had the best lips ever, narrow but expressive, with smooth skin and firm muscles. Employing them to good advantage, he drew a sound of

longing from deep within her throat.

She pushed him back and he let her, both their breath coming quicker with anticipation as he fell back against the towel. James’s diaphragm went in and out, emphasizing the development of his upper chest. Somewhat lower, his erection prodded her bikini bottom, tempting her to roll on it. Feeling completely wicked, Olivia untied her bikini top.

“Liv,” he breathed. “Here?”

She’d always been on the slender side, her shoulders slightly broader than her boyish hips. Fortyish or not, her breasts sat prettily on her ribs. James’s eyes snagged on them, then rose admiringly to her face. Olivia admitted she liked both stares.

“Why not?” she said, flinging caution to the winds. “We’re behind a dune.

And we have the beach to ourselves.”

“What if someone comes close enough to see?”

“Then we’ll run back to the cottage, and some old codger walking his dog will have a story to tell his friends.”

James laughed, his hands coming up to cup and caress her breasts. His strokes were sure, the tips of his fingers deft. In seconds, he had her nipples achy and hard. He liked seeing them that way. He wet his lips as he watched himself tug them out.

“I think you should let go of me,” she said, her voice not as steady as before.

“I need to tie your wrists together.”

He inhaled sharply, his hands stilling. His whole body seemed to help him hold his breath.

“Above your head,” she said, pushing his strong arms there.

He didn’t resist as she bound them with her bikini top. He breathed more raggedly instead and got so hard he started leaking inside his Speedo. James had been her first lover, and she’d always been fascinated by his cock: the size of it and the heft, the way it responded so readily to almost anything she did. Their first game - which had happened by accident - had surprised her, because she hadn’t known he could enjoy sex more than he already did. She’d always thought one of his finest qualities was how much he loved fucking. She did too, and it was nice to be kept up with.

“Lift your hips,” she said, wanting to admire the picture he was making.

James lifted and she dragged his snug black swimsuit far enough down his ass to bare him. Digging between his thighs, she pulled his balls up so the elastic cradled them. His testicles were about half drawn up, and she knew she had time to play. Maybe he did too. He moved his hips restlessly, like he was trying to dig a deeper depression into the sand underneath the towel.

Rather than succumb to what she wanted, which was to plunge her aching

pussy over that tall thick rod, Olivia stood and skimmed her swimsuit bottom down her legs.

When she stepped out of it, completely nude in the open air, James let out a groan that said better than words how sexy she was to him.

Because she thought it would flip his switches, she stepped over him like a Valkyrie, one bare foot firmly planted to either side of his hips.

“I am your queen,” she said, the words oddly natural.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“You’re here to serve me.”

“Yes.”

“Anything I ask of you, you must obey.”

His eyes dipped to the triangle of curls that declared her a true redhead. In her legs-akimbo pose, she was certain he could see her sexual moisture glistening.

“Anything,” he said hoarsely, making it a plea.

She dropped to her hands and knees so quickly he couldn’t help but gasp. She was crouched over him like a cat, unmistakably predatory. As she’d hoped, this flipped his switches too. “You won’t come until I say, no matter what I do.”

This time, her darling husband could only groan.

She kissed him too quickly and too sharply for him to kiss her back. With the in and out rhythm of the waves as accompaniment, she nipped a stinging path down his long lean body. His nipples tightened for her biting kisses, and chill bumps broke out across his skin. His strong legs kicked when her fingers stroked the ticklish spots on his abdomen, and again when she stuck her tongue into his navel. The one thing he didn’t do was laugh.

He was too involved in what she was up to for that.

She’d reached his gorgeous erection. The thing stretched thick and flushed and veiny up his belly. It and he shivered when she blew on it.

For just a second, she wondered what other men looked like when they were this aroused. The thought disturbed her, and she shook it off. She didn’t need other men when she had James.

“I think my servant needs a bit more restraint,” she said.

They’d brought a little picnic down to the beach. Nothing elaborate, just sandwiches and salad and soda pop, bought ready-made from the small local grocery store. Olivia dug into the plastic bag to retrieve a rubber band she thought was the perfect size and thickness.

“Liv,” James said when he saw it, the word wrenched from him.

Liking that, she stretched the band between her fingers. “Tell me if it hurts.”

She bound it twice around the base of his balls. Their skin got tighter and darker, partly from the way the rubber band forced it taut and partly from his excitement. She petted his fullness gently, trying to gauge if she’d gone too far.

She hoped not. She really liked the way he looked trussed up and on display.

People were so wrong about women not being visual.

“Too tight?” she asked.

He shook his head jerkily.

“Will the constriction make it harder for you to come?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “It’s
really
turning me on.”

A shiver ran across her shoulders, his excitement heightening hers. Her pussy was squirming, like it was trying to rub itself. His eyes held hers when her gaze lifted, their goldy-green-blue darkened by the expansion of his pupils. He was no stranger, and yet she’d never seen him as pushed to the edge as this. She felt as if she were a stranger herself, as if together they’d crossed the barrier into Neverland.

Her mind flashed back to the odd second when she’d wondered what other

men’s cocks looked like. Outside of magazines and X-rated movies, she’d never encountered one close up.

Momentarily nervous about what
her
eyes might reveal, she shifted her attention to James’s erection. Surely there couldn’t be a better visual than this. His hole was leaking more than before, the clear fluid trickling down the swollen crest onto his hard belly.

“I want to lick your cock,” she announced.

“My queen should do as she wishes,” was his breathless response.

Slick wet heat ran out from her sex. She wanted James to see it, wanted him to know what this game of theirs did to her. She turned her body to face his feet.

“I want you to pleasure me while I lick you.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “That’s what I’d like too.”

His bound hands settled on her butt, urging her down to him. Once she’d

lowered, he shifted them between her legs, his corded forearms pushing her thighs wider. When his mouth settled over the spot he wanted, his thumbs reached back to work her clitoral hood up and down. Since his mouth was also working her, this meant his thumbs were pushing under his lower lip.

Olivia temporarily forgot what she’d meant to do to him.

Oh he was good at giving head, strong and quick and very sure of himself.

She groaned at how close to coming one hard suck pulled her.

“Don’t,” she said, fingernails digging into his muscled thighs. “Don’t make me climax so soon.”

He backed off, and she could think again - enough to take in the view anyway.

His cock and balls stared her in the face, a feast of the first order. Olivia was no porn star. She couldn’t deep-throat a man James’s size. She couldn’t moan cinematically or even toss her hair around like one. She’d have felt too silly. Her main advantages were willingness, curiosity, and knowledge of her partner’s sweet spots. And love. That was probably an advantage when it came to driving a man crazy.

Olivia crooked her little finger under the cinch of the rubber band, then let it go with a snap.

“Christ,” James cursed, his body jerking as his mouth fell from her pussy.

Olivia didn’t ask permission. She snapped the band again, drawing a wild cry from him. Then, before the sting on those sensitive nerves could fade from his consciousness, she took the swollen head of him in her mouth. She pressed the soft warm flat of her tongue against it, made sure her teeth were covered, and sucked him once as hard as she could.

He nearly came. The taste of precum flooded her mouth as his body writhed under her. She slapped her arms on his thighs, bearing down with her weight and not coincidentally increasing his sense of being restrained.

Then she sucked him again.

His cry was garbled, pain and ecstasy and shock all rolled into one. She gentled her suckling, but that wouldn’t matter now. She’d already pushed him to the edge, nor would he have forgotten that she’d ordered him not to come.

“Oh God,” he gasped, twisting both to and from her suckling mouth.

“Stop,” she ordered. Instantly, he froze, giving her a heady sense of power. As she paused to decide on her next order, James sucked in a great gulp of air, no doubt hoping to recover his control. “No more thrashing, servant. I want my hands free to work on you.”

“Yes, my queen,” he said in a thready voice. His body tensed but didn’t thrash as she moved her hands to his twitching balls.

She didn’t hurt him again. James responded well to variety and surprise. She cupped and compressed his scrotum, then ran three fingers firmly over the smoothness of his perineum. He had nerves here that liked massaging. Sure enough, his back arched off the towel, and he groaned more luxuriously. When she sucked the upper half of his cock back into her mouth, he returned his lips and tongue to her. His bound hands rested compliantly on his belly, fisting and then relaxing as she did things to him that felt good. She wasn’t sure he knew she could see. His reactions made a handy sexual litmus test.

She used this to lull his worries that he’d disobey her by climaxing. Letting him relax, she nuzzled his balls, then licked his penis repeatedly. Down and down she swiped her tongue on his underside, over and over like a metronome. Using her saliva to make him glisten, she painted the stretch between the sweet spot under his rim to the cinch of the rubber band. This would feel good, but it wouldn’t push him over. The muscles in his thighs stopped bunching.