Mirage (7 page)

Julie was impressed. He was both the brains and the brawn in his enterprise. She sat quietly, spinning the coral beads on her necklace round and round as she listened to him, mesmerized by his big square hands.

He’s really good looking, yes. But he’s also really intense. So vital and alive.

More than once she caught herself wondering what he was wearing under that loose robe.

She watched him work the table, talking to everyone except Bish. He somehow managed to smoothly change the direction of his conversation each time it reached the sulking guide.

When it was time to go, she was surprised when Tor picked up her tab and paid for her meal. He didn’t even ask. And she was further surprised when he held the restaurant door open for her on the way out.

“Thank you. No bike, tonight?” she asked, peering down the street.

He laughed. “No. I walked. I learned my lesson last night when I saw you struggling with your skirt. I’m sure I can’t ride in a dress, either. Come on, let’s walk along the colonnade.”

“Okay, but I’d better ask my mom first.” She laughed at the startled expression on his face, then said, “Only kidding.”

They wished the others a good night and turned toward the majestic third century archway in the distance. She could feel Bish’s dark eyes burning a hole in the back of her head as she walked away.

The sky was as black as the night before, the stars as bright. But this time Julie felt curiously relaxed with Tor beside her. Strong and sure of herself. Maybe it was the meat, she thought. Or maybe it was because she’d sensed his interest in her. It was more than friendly, and it was more than she’d expected. Although he had been busy making conversation with other people at the table, she knew he was always acutely aware of her, sitting across from him. Watching, and listening.

He played to her. Even if he wasn’t looking at her, everything he said was calculated to woo her. She knew this from experience. She smiled as she walked beside him, under a starry desert sky. He wanted her.

He made no move to touch her as they slowed their steps to wander side-by-side along the floodlit columns. It was supernaturally exotic. Romantic. A perfect place for a man and a woman to be alone together. She shivered and pulled her wrap more tightly around her shoulders against the cool night air when she thought once more about what he might be wearing under his
didashah.

Maybe nothing.

They approached the Roman theatre, which was surrounded by a high metal fence. When they stopped at the locked gate, she said, “I’ve never been in here. Apparently, it’s difficult to get permission. Or at least that what Bish said.”

“That’s what Bish said, is it?” Tor reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a lone key, holding it up in front of her face in the dim light. “I’m going to prove him wrong,” he said, grinning.

“Wow, I’m impressed. Where did you get that?”

“I have my connections. That’s all you need to know.” The gate slid open smoothly and he ushered her in. Then he closed it, making sure it was locked behind him.

They walked into the center of the arena, dark with shadows. Julie was awed by the solemn majesty of the architecture. She knew the theatre complex had been built in the first century, and wasn’t restored until the nineteen fifties. Rather small, as far as Roman theatres went, it was perfectly proportioned. She counted nine rows of stone seats surrounding the arena.

“It’s in amazing condition,” she said in a whisper, as if she were a trespasser.

“Yes. I was here earlier today, and I thought you might like to see it.”

“Thank you. I love it.” A flood of emotions welled inside her chest, making her voice husky. Her heart began to hammer in her chest.

She looked at the vast stage, made entirely of stone and backed by a proscenium wall decorated with beautifully carved niches. Now empty, they’d once held statues of important men. Maybe even Nero, she’d read somewhere.

There were rooms back there, too. A senate building and a Tariff Hall. But they were half hidden in the dark and looked a little spooky. Besides, she didn’t want to leave Tor’s side. He was her protector, her desert lion.

And now, a gift-giver.

She turned toward him when they reached the edge of the elevated stage. “It was very kind of you to bring me here. And to buy me dinner.”

He looked down at her, his eyes shining with reflected light. “You look beautiful tonight, Julie. I wanted to tell you earlier, but I guess I had to wait until we were alone.”

Her heart lurched. His words were so unexpected. “Thank you. So do you.”

“What?”

She felt herself blushing, and tried hard to keep from stammering as she said, “You look very beautiful tonight, too, in your robe.”

He laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that I’m beautiful.”

“But you are. To me.” Now her face was really red. She was grateful for the low light.

That was when he touched her.

She hadn’t expected that either. She was too full of words and feelings to be able to read his.

He reached out a hand and picked up a strand of her hair, pulling it gently. This one small gesture sent a jolt of electric desire through her entire body. She began to tremble, acutely aware of his large, masculine shape beside her, the smell of his body, the sound of his deep voice.

Looking up into his eyes, she anticipated what he would do next. And for a moment, he did nothing. Her mouth fell open as she waited, holding her breath, weak with longing. She wanted him to embrace her. Kiss her. Sweep her off her feet and transport her.

Not breaking eye contact, he let go of her hair and moved his hand to the back of her neck, causing a shiver of pleasure to run down her back. Then, slowly, he lowered his face to hers, pulling her head up to his.

His breath was hot and moist on her face, and she felt goose bumps race down her neck. His nose brushed hers, causing an exquisite tingling of pleasure all along her face. He kissed her cheek, first, and she felt it burn in response. Then he moved his mouth to her open lips and touched them with a feather-soft kiss.

Her belly flipped. This visceral response to his first small kiss caught her unawares, and she gasped into his mouth, trying to catch her breath. Then she kissed him back. The taste of his warm, wet mouth made her dizzy. Everything seemed to slip sideways a little, and she reached out to grab his robe to keep herself from sliding to the ground. The fabric was soft in her fists, and she could feel the hard muscles of his chest underneath her fingers.

They broke for air, dove back into each other, and she experienced the thrill of his big arms encircling her body, lifting it upwards. He was outrageously strong. She’d never been embraced by such a big man, and the effect was intensely erotic. She wanted to go limp in his arms, melt into him, so he could mold her body into his own. Her arms encircled his neck and she hung on as she sucked his hot, sweet tongue deep into her mouth.

Pressing into him, she could feel his erection under the thin fabric of his robe. It sure didn’t feel like he was wearing any underwear, and she smiled in the middle of a kiss. His hands were running up and down along the length of her back. Her shawl slid to the ground as she pushed her breasts and belly into him.

He pushed her backwards until her tailbone hit the edge of the stage. Then, in one swift movement, he lifted her so she was sitting on it, legs dangling. He wedged her knees apart by walking into her, kissing her more deeply, more passionately. Her dress rode up and she wrapped her legs around his hips, and held on.

She had a feeling this was going to be the ride of her life.

“Take this off,” Tor said, pulling at Julie’s dress. He liked the way she wiggled her butt to slip the dress up past her hips and then over her head. She leaned back, looking at him with her big, dark eyes. Somehow she could do the sexiest things with those eyes. He wondered if she knew the effect they had on him.

He looked down at her lacy bra, almost shining in the dark, the whitest thing around for a mile. It pushed her generous breasts up and together, just the way he liked them. Her stomach was flat, and his gaze dropped to see she was wearing a tiny white thong. His hard cock throbbed when he thought what he would like to do next.

Instead, he kissed her again. She was a good kisser, really into it. He could tell she was almost ready to let him inside, but he didn’t want to rush things. They had plenty of time.

“You’re lovely,” he said into her neck. “I knew you would be. And you smell really good.”

“So do you.” She snuffled his ear, then licked it, causing his cock to pulse even more and the back of his scalp to tingle.

He pulled away from her slightly, afraid he’d come all over himself if she did that thing with her tongue again.

Stepping back, he said, “I want you to get up on the stage for me. I want to look at you.”

Eyes flashing reflected light, she smiled her pretty smile, took the hand he offered, and pulled herself to her feet. Then she stood up straight, about three feet off the ground, her belly button level with his nose.

“Turn around.”

Slowly, she obliged.

“You have a magnificent ass.”

“I know.”

“And you’re very modest. I like that in a woman.”

She laughed, and the sound pierced through the unhappiness he’d been carrying with him all the way from Denmark. He smiled.

“Do you know what I want you to do now?”

“I have a pretty good idea.” She turned around to face him again, putting her hands on her hips and rolling them suggestively.

“Oh, do you now? Tell me what you think I’m going to say.”

“You’re probably going to tell me to take off the rest of my clothes.” Her dark eyes, her pretty face, her smile were all irresistible.

“Hmm. A good guess, but you’re wrong.”

Her eyebrows rose. “So, surprise me.”

“I want you to get down on your hands and knees.”

He watched her mouth form a little O. Then she recovered, smiled again and slowly dropped to her knees, her bewitching eyes never leaving his. Bending over, she placed her palms flat on the floor of the stone stage and curved her back downwards. Her eyes challenged him. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Like that. Now turn a bit so I can see you from the side.” She adjusted her position until he said, “Enough. That’s just right.”

She had to turn her head to look at him now, and the expression on her face made his knees weak. He moved toward her and slowly ran one hand along her spine. He swore she trembled at his touch.

“You are exquisite like this. Do your knees hurt?”

“Not yet.” Her voice was low, provocative. With one hand he stroked her buttocks, gleaming in the dim light. With the other he cupped her breasts. He rubbed her belly, her flanks, her thighs, and then he placed his mouth on her shoulder. It tasted slightly salty. She was shaking visibly, now. All over.

“Imagine you are Queen Zenobia,” he said softly into her neck. “And you’ve come here late at night with your favorite slave.”

He could hear her breathing grow louder as he continued to read the contours of her body with his fingertips like a blind man. She groaned when he let his lips follow the paths of his fingers.

“If this is uncomfortable, just tell me.”

“I will,” she said in a whisper so low he wondered if he’d heard her right.

“You don’t want me to stop?”

“No. Don’t stop.”

“You like it, then?” He ran a forefinger lightly along the back of her thong to where it disappeared between her legs. She was soaking wet.

He heard a sharp intake of breath as she flinched. “Yes.”

“Or maybe you’d rather be one of Nero’s slaves? Brought into the arena after everyone else has gone to bed.”

“Ummph,” was all she said.

“Imagine the emperor places you here on the stage just like this. So he can admire you before he ravishes you.”

“Yes,” she said with an exhalation.

“And is there anything in particular you’d like me to do for you before I ravish you?” He smiled at her arousal as he gathered her thick hair in one hand and moved it aside so he could kiss her neck.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” He licked along the length of her neck, then bit her gently.

She jumped. “I want you to take off that fucking robe.”

He laughed. “It’s a deal.”

Breathing loudly through her mouth, she leaned back on her haunches and watched him pull the
didashah
over his head and throw it down beside her. He was naked underneath, and his swollen penis leaped free, bouncing in the night air.

“Happy now?”

Eyes big, she nodded solemnly. He knew she was studying his tattoo. It was centered on his right shoulder but ran part way across his upper chest and back.

“Now it’s my turn again. I want you to lie down on this.” He spread the robe as flat as he could on the edge of the stage. “On your back.”

She did as he asked. “Okay? What do you want now?”

“Not so fast. I want to look at you some more.”

He examined every inch of her. Her skin was pale and flawless. Her curves were all woman, but her arms and legs were long and toned.

“Queen or slave girl, you are a perfect specimen of a woman. Any man—slave or emperor—would be powerless to resist you.”

Watching her smile, he began to explore her body with his hands. He stroked her soft belly, felt the ribs beneath her smooth midriff, the strong muscles in her legs. He removed her sandals, slowly, sensually, and rubbed her feet. Then he kissed her insteps, one at a time, making her entire body twitch.

He felt her eyes watching every move he made, and when he used his tongue to trace a path from her quivering bellybutton to the tiny white triangle of damp fabric, he heard her sharp intake of breath.

“I believe it’s my turn, now,” she said, after clearing her throat.

“Go on, then. What do you want?”

“I want you to take off my bra. And kiss my breasts.”

“So demanding! But if I must, I must.”

She arched her back and unclasped the back of her bra, leaving him the task of peeling it off. Like the thong, it was damp with her excitement and stuck to her skin.