Silk Stalkings (5 page)

She’d covered up midway through his scolding, feeling
dejected and rejected. Her goal had been for him to ravish her immediately and
scold her later—or not at all.

“I thought…” she began, but didn’t know what she’d thought.

The weight of the cruel parting words of the short list of
men in her past came rushing to her mind, making her lightheaded. She’d never
be sexy enough. Yancey wanted to be the hot chick all the guys wanted to fuck
but not marry. In her attempt at recklessness, she’d gone too far.

“No, you didn’t think,” he said. Diego bolted off his stool
to tend to the meal cooking on the stove. He muttered angry words to himself in
Spanish as he punished the food in the pan with a spatula. Covering the pan
with a lid, he turned the burner down and faced her. “I’m sorry.”

“I should go,” she said with a sniff of emotion.

“No,” he was quick to say, pointing an accusatory finger in
her direction. “Not dressed…I mean
undressed
like that. Not without an
armed escort. Me.”

She’d come too far to turn back now. If Yancey let him bully
her into compliance, she’d have made no progress whatsoever on her quest for
sexual exploration and freedom. She’d come all the way across town—naked—for a
reason. Yanking the coat open, she let it drop to the floor. She’d just eat
dinner naked. If he wanted to watch a baseball game, she’d do that in the buff
as well. Whatever he had planned, she’d be naked.

His eyes widened as they had before when she’d flashed him,
right before he’d reprimanded her. Feeling exposed and empowered at the same
time, Yancey slowly caressed her torso, hips and breasts. It beat letting her
arms simply hang limply at her sides.

A lump formed in her throat as she waited for his
recrimination.

Stepping closer, he said, “Here, let me do that for you.”
Diego reached for her, wrapping his fingers loosely around her wrist and
tugging Yancey against his body. His hands took over the task of caressing her
tingling skin. She liked it better the way he did it anyway.

“I appreciate your help,” she whispered. She really did. He
was warm. And complete nakedness was very cold after the heat of her
embarrassment had dissipated.

Yancey had been exploring her own body for several lonely
months. She knew her triggers, the curve of her breasts, the arc of her waist
and her inner thighs. All the sensitive spots she’d caressed with her
fingertips as a precursor to pleasuring herself. She had to know her own body
in order to fulfill her wish list of kink. Men needed verbal directions. Hell,
they needed written instructions and a life-sized schematic of the female body.

Except Diego.

It seemed he knew her triggers better than she did. His
hands alternated soft strokes with intense kneading on and around her pleasure
points. His knuckles skimmed the curve of her waist. His fingers kneaded the
flesh at her hips. He found a few erogenous zones she’d never known she had.
His lips dropped fiery kisses on her neck. His fingers fisted around her curls,
tugging her head back to suck at her neck. Pleasure shot down her spine,
settling between her legs.

Yancey drew in a raspy breath in response to his rough
treatment. “More.”

His teeth skimmed her jugular. She trusted him not to hurt
her in spite of not having known him for long. Yancey sensed that he’d take her
somewhere she’d never gone before. A place she’d want to visit often. With him.
His lips crushed hers in a powerful kiss. His tongue swept through her mouth in
a storm of searing passion.

Her phone jingled again, interrupting them. “Ignore that,”
she said, and he did, returning to explore the depths of her mouth. But the
ringing persisted.

“Might be important,” he muttered.

Breathlessly, she said, “It’s just some heavy-breathing, butt-dialing
practical joker.”

“What?” Suddenly letting Yancey loose, Diego nearly dropped
her. “Since when?”

“Since…since I don’t know,” she stammered, struggling to
clear the fog of desire from her brain. Reaching for the phone, she checked the
caller ID. Private. She displayed the screen to him.

“May I?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“Knock yourself out.”

“Yancey Peters’ phone,” Diego answered. “Hello? Who is
this?” His face screwed up as if he were listening intently. “Consider this a
warning. Do not call back. Do we understand each other?” He handed the phone
back. “He hung up.”

“He?”

“You let me know if it happens again,” he said. “I’ve got an
ex who works at the phone company. Maybe she can trace the number somehow.”

Yancey didn’t respond. She certainly didn’t want Diego
connecting with an old flame on her account—not until she was done with him
anyway. No telling how long that would take.

“Promise me,” he said.

She crossed her fingers behind her back. “I promise.”

He cocked his head. “Now where were we?”

“You were about to go all Stone Age on me and drag me off to
your cave to ravish my body,” she said.

“Oh yeah.”

Lifting her off the floor, he carried her the short distance
to the bedroom, which beat dragging her across the floor by her hair, à la prehistoric
man. She hooked her arms around his neck and held on tight, letting go right
before he tossed her onto the bed. She bounced before freefalling back against
the mattress, laughing, delighted that he hadn’t scolded her again for being
naked. This was so much better.

“What’s so funny, girl?” Diego clutched the buckle above his
zipper, yanking his leather belt off in one swift motion.

Yancey gasped. Her stomached dipped with uncertainty.

He looped the belt, clasping both ends in one hand, and
smacked the leather into his other palm with a slapping noise. The sound pulsed
in her ears nearly as loud as the thrumming of her heart pounding in her chest.
A trickle of fear bled into her mind and must have showed in her eyes.

Diego tossed the belt away to the farthest corner of the
bedroom, where it landed with a clank of metal on wood that made her flinch.

The breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She would not add
being beaten with a belt to her Excel spreadsheet anytime soon.

Peeling his shirt away, he chucked the shirt on top of the
belt. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Yancey. Ever.”

“I know,” she said, albeit weakly. She had no idea what he’d
do to her—no idea at all. That in itself electrified her. It suddenly occurred
to her that she barely knew him. No one but Stanley had any idea who she was
with, and he only knew from eavesdropping on her phone conversation. Most folks
would excuse themselves during a private conversation, or at the very least
pretend not to listen.

Diego’s jeans pooled at his ankles and he kicked them off
and away before lying beside her, draping his leg over her thighs. “I was going
to tie your hands with the belt.” Diego choked out a laugh. “I’ve never done
anything crazy like that before.”

“No?” she whispered.

He gathered her wrists in his hands and held them cuffed
above her head. Being at his mercy quickened her pulse. He rose to his knees,
his other hand exploring her body below her waist—her hips, thighs and
abdomen—while his lips and tongue investigated her above the waist. She
squirmed, at the mercy of his hands and kisses.

His lips continued their exploration. “Baby, you make me
want to do wicked things to you. Things that are probably illegal in some
states.”

Yancey trembled under his touch. She shuddered from the
impact of his words. Each kiss landed with a zap of pleasure on her skin. His
words touched her deeper. There was no place on her list for what Diego did to
her mind. When he stroked her breast, he also stroked her confidence and her
libido.

“I-I do?” Her voice rang shakily in her ears. She didn’t
know if there was something wrong with her speech or her hearing.

“You do.” Tightening his grip on her wrists, he said, “This
is better than a belt anyhow.”

“Y-yes,” she stammered, but she imagined his belt cinched
tightly around her wrists, being his willing prisoner, tethered to the
headboard. She doubted this technically qualified as bondage, a never before
considered addition to her list. For some reason Yancey couldn’t explain, she
longed to be his captive, to have her culpability taken away. To be powerless
to stop him from defiling her in the most egregious ways. Desire twisted in her
belly.

He nudged her legs apart with his knee. Letting his prisoner
free, Diego kissed his way down the length of her quivering body. Again, she
couldn’t fight the reaction his touch caused and she felt anything but free of
him. Yancey wanted to be sensual and sinuous, not quaking like a Jell-O salad.
The look in his eyes, the tender touch of his fingers didn’t judge her, only
accepted her and her obvious inexperience.

Do something, Yancey. Anything.
She squeezed her eyes
shut, struggling to recall her list. “I want you to eat my pussy,” rolled
quickly out of her mouth. Talking dirty was a start. No shame in asking for
what she wanted.

“Patience.” He planted his mouth on her nipple. Parting his
lips, he gently teased the hard tip with his teeth. “That’s where I’m heading.”
He traced a drunken trail along her torso with his tongue. “You’re so smooth.”

“And you’re rough,” she murmured, feeling every whisker on
her sensitive skin. The combination of the coarse hair and his soft tongue made
her belly flutter pleasantly.

Clutching one of her breasts, Yancey reached out to comb the
fingers of her other hand through his hair. She wanted to take a walk on the
wild side, not actually be a whore, but couldn’t stop herself from drawing her
knees up, spreading her legs for his anticipated lips. She needed to feel the
combination of his tender lips and his prickly whiskers on her cunt. He didn’t
make her wait long.

Her back arched, her hips rising to meet his open-mouthed
kisses on her pussy. Warm, wet lips wrapped around her clit, stroking and
massaging. No man had ever anticipated her needs before she’d even known she
had the need. His tongue dipped into her slit, flooding her channel with heat.

Wanting more, she dug her high heels into his mattress,
lifting off the bed, giving him complete access to her pussy. When had she
become so greedy? He groaned deeply as he devoured her, licking and lapping,
stopping only to pet her cunt with his entire palm. Sitting upright, he rested
on his haunches and dragged her onto his lap, as close to his lips as he seemed
to be able to manage. She’d gone past the point of no return. There wasn’t
anything she wouldn’t do to reach her climax. Demand. Plead. Beg.

“Diego,” she whimpered, near her breaking point. “Please,
yes, please.”

“Please, yes, please what?” he taunted her cruelly.

“Finger me like you did in your truck,” she demanded, but
the words resonated more as though she were begging.

As requested, he treated her to his fingers, as he had in
his truck, stroking her inside as his tongue caressed her clit. Her thighs
trembled, and not just from the exertion of holding her body up. The quivering
radiated out from her center, turning her muscles to mush. Yancey powered
through, intuitively pulsing her pussy at his talented lips, even though she
felt a bit like a contortionist.

Warmth, wetness and desire swirled together like a whirlpool
in her lower belly.

Diego’s cell phone chimed but went unanswered. Yancey was
the focus of his attention.

The ringing phone shot a sense of urgency through her,
triggering a chain reaction of mini bursts of pleasure that erupted through her
entire lower body. Diego had the key to her pent-up yearnings for satisfaction.
He’d opened the floodgates of longing, causing a fast-moving flood of ecstasy
and emotion to run its course.

“Yes,” she shouted. “Yes.”

She clawed at the bedspread and writhed in rapture, calling
out his name over and over again. She closed her eyes and an explosion of color
burst behind her eyelids to accompany the blast of warm, wet pleasure that
splashed inside her. Yancey bit her tongue to keep from declaring her undying
love for a man who could make her feel so euphoric. It was merely a cocktail of
sexual chemicals affecting her brain, she told herself.

Her self didn’t want to listen. Her self wanted what all
women had wanted since ancient times—to be in love and loved in return.

Chapter Five

Diego rode out the powerful waves of her orgasm, continuing
to stroke her G-spot with his fingers while his tongue fondled her clit. Before
the last ripples of her climax subsided, he rolled the condom on and slid his
cock into her slick pussy. Through the condom he felt her warmth and the easy
glide of her wetness. He groaned. Most of all he felt her pussy hugging his
length and the last remnants of her orgasm contracting and releasing around
him. His balls tightened, but he wanted—no,
needed
to last longer than
he had the night before. Longer than he had that afternoon. He had something to
prove to her. What he lacked in education, he made up for in dogged
determination.

Closing his eyes, Diego shook from his muddled mind the
scent of her pussy on his lips. Her unique fragrance alone stiffened his dick.
He caressed her thighs where they were wrapped around him, taking pleasure from
the silky feel of those sexy stockings. Her bare legs would do the trick, he
wanted to tell her, but he sensed a fragility in her and couldn’t risk hurting
her feelings in any way.

She uncoiled one leg from around him. Opening his eyes, he
nearly lost his concentration at the sight of the high heel she still wore as
she stretched her leg toward the ceiling. Yancey pointed and flexed her toe
before hooking her leg around his waist again. Probably warding off a Charlie
horse.

Tuning out the heels and the stockings, he concentrated on
Yancey. Her eyes. Her lips. He leaned in and kissed her mouth, slow and
sensual, mimicking the rhythm of the in and out of his cock in her snug pussy.
He sensed that she wanted a sexual adventure from him, so he once again roughly
pinned her hands above her head with his hand. His grip tightened around her
delicate wrists. That didn’t last. Sentiment grabbed hold of him and he laced
his fingers with hers while he continued the easy cadence he’d established of
his body rocking into hers.

Her breathing had begun to return to normal after her
orgasm, but now picked up momentum again. Diego ramped up his tempo, thrusting
faster, harder, deeper, to match her labored breaths. Her chest rose and fell
heavily. He had to hold it together. His home phone rang, breaking his
concentration but not the pace he’d established. If anything, he plunged
faster.

Releasing her hands, he gripped the lip of the mattress and
forged ahead. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. His muscles ached from
exertion. His heart drummed in his chest but he wanted to see the glow of a
second orgasm on her face.

Her head fell to the side, eyes closed, and she moaned. Her
body tensed, her pussy milked his cock as her fingers dug into the flesh of his
back. A rush of warmth coated his cock. He came in the middle of her climax,
taking that blissful tumble with her. The dizzying mix of prickling skin and
emotions disoriented him. He lost a small chunk of time, almost as if he’d
blacked out, his mind blank to anything but the pleasure he found in her pussy.

They remained joined for several minutes. Diego reveled in
the comfort of being wrapped in her arms and entwined in her legs as if he and
Yancey were one person.

“Did you know that orgasms relieve tension, improve sleep
and suppress the appetite?” she asked.

Diego chuckled. “You don’t say?”

“It’s true,” she said. “Google it if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” He pecked at her swollen lips. “My cell
phone is ringing again.”
Must be important,
he thought.

“Go. Answer it.”

“You don’t mind?” he asked.

Sexual etiquette frowned upon answering phones so soon after
sex. Sent a bad message. Unless a bad message was what you intended. He didn’t
feel the strong urge a guy sometimes experiences to make a getaway on the heels
of a climax, as if a woman’s cunt were a trap he’d narrowly escaped. There was
no little voice in his head asking, “What the fuck have you done?” The voice
was prompting him to do it again—soon and often.

“Right now,” she said dreamily, “you could steal my credit
cards, my car, my dog…”

“Good to know.” Diego kissed her soundly to hopefully offset
the inevitable annoyance she’d feel due to the phone call he knew he had to
return. Would not be good news. “Do you even have a dog?”

“No.”

He rolled off her with a gasp, pulling out of the warmest
place he’d ever been. She turned over to lie on her side. Diego leaned in to
kiss her near-perfect ass. A lazy smile crossed her face. He swatted her
playfully, making her squirm and laugh. He sensed that she really didn’t mind
if he made a call. Some women say one thing but mean another. She wasn’t like
that. Yet. Maybe Yancey was different.

Scrolling through his texts, he let out a sigh. “Bad news, baby.”

Lifting her head off the pillow that smelled deliciously of
him, Yancey asked lazily, “What is it?”

So many possibilities crossed her mind—unsettling
possibilities. Perhaps he’d just been notified by the health department that he
had crabs, and now she did too. Maybe his parole had just been revoked for bad
behavior. Hopefully an ex-girlfriend wasn’t on her way up, wanting to give
their relationship another go. Now. This very second. Yancey braced herself for
him asking her to hide in the closet or slip out of a third-story window.

It dawned on her that she didn’t know him at all, but wasn’t
that the point of her wicked escapade down the wandering path to sexual
exploration? She wanted stories and memories and comparisons to measure other
men against. Why not, since they so readily compared her to other women,
finding that Yancey came up short? She needed to be sure that the next man she
allowed into her heart was worthy. Intellectually. Morally. Sexually.

Equals in every way.

To make that weighty a decision, she needed to sample a
random variety of men for comparison’s sake. How could one declare they’d found
the world’s greatest cup of coffee if they’d only ever sipped one brew? How
could a person declare carrot cake to be their favorite dessert if they’d never
tasted pie? How could someone hate the idea of chicken on pizza if they’d never
tried it?

Her stomach rumbled.
I think a certain someone is hungry.

In college she hadn’t entertained the idea of agreeing to
sex without several dates under her belt, a detailed romantic history and a
firm declaration of fidelity—which had sometimes turned out to be a lie. Yancey
refused to go the liar’s route, but she was definitely interested in padding
her sexual resume with some extreme sexual encounters, whether pleasurable or
not. Sometimes a person needed to parachute out of a plane to be sure they
didn’t like it.

“My buddy Chip is swamped with tow calls. Mine and his own.”
Diego dragged his hand down his face. “I gotta take one or two off his hands.”

She wondered if he’d planned this. Maybe he had a buddy
system where Chip—if that was his real name—called him after a couple hours in
order to get rid of her. Diego had got what he’d wanted and now he was done
with her. She felt a little used, but Yancey had gone to him specifically for
sex. She’d dressed, or rather undressed, for the part. But dinner would have
been nice. Chatting would have been a bonus. Staying all night had never been
part of her plan anyway, even though he’d said it was part of his.

With the deal sealed, it was time to get up, put her coat on
and leave.

“Stay. Eat something,” he said as he pulled on his shorts
and jeans. “Watch a little TV. Sleep. I’ll wake you when I get back.”

Pushing off the bed, Yancey said, “No. I should go.” She
doubted that he meant her to take him up on his suggestion. That was just
something guys said. There was a code. The underlying meaning called for her to
run along home.

“Not dressed in your birthday suit, you’re not.” His voice
was a command, not a suggestion.

She sort of liked his demanding side. All his sides,
actually. Front and back. And more. Yancey warmed inside and out to his
playfulness. His protectiveness. The way he looked at her, into her eyes, when
they made love. Correction—when they fucked. One fiery look from him brought a
blush to her cheeks and wetness to her pussy.

“I shouldn’t.” Her protest sounded weak, even to her.
Twist
my arm.

His bed felt firm beneath her liquefied body. A nap called
out to her from somewhere deep within. She needed food, water and rest to
recuperate from their tryst. Both sets of lips felt gloriously raw from his
whiskers.

“Come with me,” he said.

Rolling across the bed to assess Diego’s seriousness, she
said, “What? Are you joking?” Yancey watched him tuck his shirt into the
waistband of his jeans. The taut fabric hugged the muscles underneath. “I’m a
mess,” she said.

“A sexy mess.” He opened a dresser drawer and tossed a pair
of sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt toward her. After digging through his
closet, he returned with a pair of flip-flops. “I hate to see the shoes and
stockings go, but they’re simply not practical.”

Yancey opened her mouth to protest about the sorry state of
her hair and makeup. But honestly she wanted to be with him, however biological
her decision was. Clearly the sexual chemistry they shared had gone straight to
her head, resulting in infatuation. Nothing more than her pheromones liking his
pheromones. Why fight it? She should relax and enjoy it. Ride the wave until it
petered out.

She answered him by kicking off her heels, peeling away the
stockings and shimmying into his sweats. They hung comfortably, if not
attractively.

“I’ll go fix us dinner to go.” One side of his mouth turned
up in a boyish grin before he kissed her. “This night can be saved.”

Yancey placed her hands on his cheeks, gliding her palms
along his five o’clock shadow, which was more like an eight o’clock shadow, and
returned his kiss.

“Do I have a couple minutes to freshen up?” she asked. She
could only imagine that she smelled like a whorehouse on a busy Saturday night.

“Sure, but hurry,” he said. “I might like to do the same.”

* * * * *

Diego slowly cruised the deserted side road again. “I’m not
seeing a blue Taurus. You?”

Yancey searched the opposite side of the street. “Nope,” she
said. “Try the cell number again.”

“Keeps telling me the mailbox is full.” He sighed and turned
his attention to his sexy passenger. Having company was nice for a change.
Especially pretty company. Funny, sunny company. She’d entertained and educated
him on the safety and reliability statistics of the Taurus, followed by Ford
automobiles in general. “I hate to think of someone stranded out here in the
middle of nowhere with a dead cell phone,” he said.

Shrugging, she replied, “What can you do? Nothing. Maybe he
got his car started.”

“Yeah.” Diego accelerated and shifted into second. “Probably
called several tow companies. Someone else beat me to it. Happens all the
time.” His phone chimed. “It’s Chip.” He passed the phone to his co-pilot.
“What does the text say?”

“His tow call was a bust too. Weird, huh? He’s all caught
up.” Yancey smiled up at Diego. “You’re free for the rest of the night.
Whatever should we do?” she asked coyly.

“I’ve got an idea.” Diego winked at her.

“Is it a dirty idea? If so, I’m in.”

He laughed. “No, but I like how your mind works.”

He liked how her body worked. Diego liked plenty about her.
She looked fine and dressed sexily—when she dressed, that was. There was so
much to like about her. Except her recklessness. Her careless nature had its
perks, but she didn’t have a lick of common sense when it came to her personal
safety. Would that come with age? Caution and restraint had caught up with him
just recently, around age thirty, but he’d been backsliding since meeting her.
Yancey could make him misbehave to his own detriment. If he researched the
meaning of the name Yancey, it wouldn’t surprise him if it meant “temptation”.

She scooted as close to him as the seat belt would allow,
placing her hand on his thigh. “What’s the plan?” she asked.

Lightly caressing his leg, her gentle touch had his mind
wandering.

He didn’t want to slip back into the bar or nightclub scene,
if that was what Yancey was into. She dressed the part of a party girl. Sure,
the women were young at the bars, their dresses short and inhibitions
nonexistent, but he’d realized he would never meet a keeper in that
environment.

His mother had suggested church. He didn’t want to go to
that extreme either. He failed to see eye to eye with the church on several
issues. He didn’t want to misrepresent himself to women as someone he wasn’t.
He’d come a long way from the hardened sinner of his youth, but wasn’t ready to
join the saints either. His comfort zone was somewhere in between.

Diego needed to find out if Yancey could be satisfied with
the simpler things in life. Was she ready to settle down? Maybe he was asking
too much too soon. But better to ask the hard questions now rather than three
to six months from now.

“A picnic,” he replied, rather impulsively.
What could be
more wholesome?

She laughed at his picnic idea. “It’s dark outside.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Where’s your spirit of
adventure?”

Still laughing, she said, “I left it at your apartment with
my handbag.”

She’d left many things at his condo—sexy panties, silky
stockings and her fuck-me stilettos. He pulled into the entrance of the city
park.
Good, no other cars.
If there had been any, he’d have been obliged
to tow them off to the impound lot. With a city towing contract came great
responsibility.

He used to be the guy loitering at the park after hours, up
to no good. Necking. Drinking. Mischief. Diego had a history of vandalism and
misdemeanor offenses. Luckily his juvenile record was sealed and couldn’t be
used against him in adulthood. Now he was the guy enforcing the
no-parking-after-dark rule. He had mixed feelings about his new authority.
Necking, drinking and mischief were all part of growing up.