The Masseuse (9 page)

W
e took his car. I wasn’t stupid enough to drive after a couple of drinks, and when I offered to split a cab, he’d called me cute and laughed at me. Five minutes later, I was in the passenger seat of his Jeep, cruising west on Highway 60, distracted by the vibrations in the seat and the seemingly subconscious way his thumb stroked the shifter when he changed gears.

He was different—just as gorgeous, oozing the same sexuality as before, but more visibly tense despite his down-to-earth car and casual clothes. The storm clouds were practically visible over his head. I knew it was safer to keep a distance, enjoy only his body until we parted ways, but I still wanted to know what he was thinking.

I turned my attention to the deep water of Tampa Bay as we merged onto the bridge that led us away from the bright lights of the city.

“I love the water at night,” I said, watching the way the moonlight caught the soft swells below us. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

His hand moved to my thigh, the touch making me ultrasensitive. I became aware of my whole body—my heated skin, the silky movement of my hair on my shoulders, the sudden tightening of my nipples. My gaze tracked up his arm to his face, and found his attention to the road unwavering.

“It is,” he said.

“Did you grow up here?”

His fingers climbed an inch higher. I reminded myself to breathe.

“Here and there,” he said.

I frowned at his vague answer. “You grew up here and there, and do this and that for work.”

“Tell me about this dress.” He changed the subject, fingertips rubbing the seam of my skirt. “Did you wear it because you knew it would make me crazy?”

His knuckles skimmed an inch higher, now just a hand’s width away from my naked slit.

I’d picked it because he’d liked my red panties so much, and because I hoped it would remind him of what had happened in the room at Rave. But mostly because it made me feel sexy and powerful.

“I went out with someone else, remember?” I said. “Maybe I was trying to make him crazy.”

His eye twitched. And then his hand traveled the seam of my dress toward the valley between my thighs. My fingers flexed against the sides of the leather seat.

“Baby,” he growled. “He wouldn’t have known what to do with you.”

Alec was probably right about that. Randall may have looked fine, but I doubted he was interested in orgasmic reciprocity.

The hand inching up my legs slid beneath my skirt and climbed higher, until one finger traced the V at the apex of my thighs. He’d just realized I wasn’t wearing underwear; I could see the surprise tighten his features.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “You little tease.”

My breath shuddered.

“I wore the dress for me,” I confessed. “I left the panties off for you.”

His eyes remained forward as he slowly gathered my skirt and pulled it up around my hips. The cool air against my hot skin made me squeeze my thighs together. I could already feel the moisture gathering there, making my cleft wet and slippery. I almost pushed his hand away; it didn’t seem decent to be so obvious with my desire.

“So this is all it takes to get to the truth,” he said, dipping his middle finger into my folds. “Interesting.”

My toes curled in their sandals. I clenched my teeth together.

“What else do I need to know about this dress?” he asked, his finger rising, coated with my arousal, then slipping back down again. He wasn’t going deeper; it was almost painful that he wasn’t inside of me.

“What?” I managed.

“Zippers?” he asked. “Buttons? How does it come off?”

I bit my bottom lip to keep from groaning. For some reason it felt dirtier to be here in his car, driving sixty-five miles per hour down a dark road while he stroked me, than it had when his face was between my thighs. Before, he’d been almost reverent. Now I wondered if he was using me. In the part of my mind that could still think straight, I wondered if this was punishment for going out with Randall.

“Zip . . . zipper.” I moaned as the heel of his hand pressed on my mound.

“What’s the matter, Anna? Having trouble concentrating?”

I glanced over, but he was still staring straight ahead. If not for the muscle jumping in his jaw, I would have thought he was completely unaffected.

“Why are you doing this?” My breath was coming faster. Everything inside wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap. I could feel my pulse pounding hard in my sex.

“Can’t focus. Can barely breathe. That’s how I feel all the time now,” he said, glancing over at me. His eyes were so dark I could barely see the irises reflected off the glowing gauges on the dashboard. “Ever since I first saw you. I don’t know what it is, but my cock is so hard I can’t even fucking think straight.”

His hand ground against my clit and I squirmed beneath him. I fought to keep my eyes open, but my lids were shutting against my will.

“You think I could ignore you when I feel this way?” His hand moved faster, still not inside me, but with enough friction to bring me right to the edge. “You think I could touch another woman?”

He pulled his hand away and I cried out, but this time from the loss. I was on fire for him, burning, and then suddenly cold and empty and exposed. Immediately the shame washed over me. I shoved my dress down, cheeks glowing.

He pressed hard on the brakes, swerving off the asphalt. I was jostled in the seat, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

He threw the car into park and faced me. The muscles of his neck were taut.

“I want you, Anna,” he said, and the intensity in his gaze stole my breath. “And I won’t share you. If you can’t play that way, you need to tell me now.”

I didn’t want to share him either. I didn’t want to think of him with Charlotte, fucking her the way I’d seen her with Maxim Stein. My need for him was intoxicating, and he was right; it did make me crazy.

“I want you,” I said. “Just you.”

I grabbed his face in my hands and kissed him hard. I gripped his hair just like I’d wanted to from the moment I’d first seen him. He kissed me back, head tilting, lips parting, and then his tongue thrust into my mouth in the way I wanted his cock deep inside me. I felt his groan in our kiss, and then his hand, frantically seeking the place he’d abandoned seconds earlier.

His fingers plunged inside me—first one, then two, twisting, stroking, desperate and hard against my swollen walls. The orgasm tore through me unexpectedly. I arched back, tearing my lips from his, writhing in the seat as my world exploded.

“So fucking hot.” His words filtered through the rush in my ears. His mouth found my neck, feasted there with short flicks of his tongue and scrapes of his teeth.

“Spread your legs.” He pushed them apart. “Keep them open. Wide. I have to see you.”

His fingers fucked me faster, thumb rubbing against my clit. The slap of his hand against my damp center made me wild. I gripped his shoulders, digging my nails into his shirt.

“Alec,” I groaned. “Oh God.
Alec
.”

He kissed me again, his tongue battling mine in a frenzy of lust. I yanked his hair and he growled, the sound shooting straight through to my core. His hand changed position, and soon another finger was rimming the sensitive entrance to my rear.

I jerked in surprise, never having been touched there by anyone before. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and drew my nipple through my dress’s fabric with the circular motion of his opposite palm.

“You like that,” he murmured, his pinky finger easing inside. “I’m going to know everything you like soon.”

The thought of him exploring my naked body made me hate his car and all the stupid layers of clothing between us. We needed to find a bed and soon.

His forefinger curved, stroking me inside. My hips slid forward to the edge of the seat. Sweat coated my skin.

“You feel like hot silk. Squeeze me tight. Just like that.” My muscles flexed at his command, pushing the sensations higher. The cold distance was gone and he was with me now, driving me to climax again in his hand.

I came with a shudder, bright lights bursting behind my closed lids. The sensations pummeled me, wave upon wave of velvet heat. He stroked me faster, hissing through his teeth.

“Christ, Anna. The way you sound.”

Still flying high, I shoved his hand away and tore off my sandals.

“Your pants. Take them off,” I demanded.

A challenging look passed over his face. He leaned the seat down, but before he could lower his fly all the way, I was scrambling across the center console. He finished with the zipper and tugged the jeans down his hips.

“Come on,” I said, willing him to go faster. “Get them off. Hurry.”

I bruised my knee against the car door as I straddled his lap. My red dress bunched around my hips, too heavy and warm. His hips bucked; my wet, needy pussy separated from his straining hard-on by only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs. I moaned, desperate for more contact.

“Condom,” he said between his teeth, pulling the wallet out of his back pocket. I snatched it out of his hands, feverish now. Something primal had stolen my control, made me a slave to my own hunger. Every thought was directed toward one goal: impaling myself on his cock. Riding him into oblivion. I didn’t care that my head was smashed against the ceiling, or my ass was trapped between his hips and the steering wheel. I needed him inside of me immediately.

I ripped the condom package with my teeth while he shoved his jeans down. An instant later his hands were beneath my dress, sliding up my sweat-dampened stomach. They found my breasts, finally, and hurriedly shoved up the cups of my bra. His thumbs grazed over my nipples while my hips began to grind against his.

“Yes,” I whimpered. “More, more, more.”

“Do you feel what you’re doing to me?” He thrust his hips up, rocked against my center. His face tightened into a grimace.

I pulled the condom free. He slid down his boxer briefs, now wet with my desire for him. I gasped.

“Oh,” I said, unable to do anything but stare. He was large. More than large,
huge
. The head of his penis was nearly even with my belly button, the shaft, veined and thick, was rock hard.

“Oh?” A wolfish grin lifted his lips.

I exhaled in a whoosh.

“I’m not sure that’ll fit.”

He held it in his hand and pressed the head against my clit. I gripped his shoulders, overwhelmed for the moment by the soft stone feel of him.

He laughed dryly. “It’ll fit.”

I didn’t care how big he was then, just as long as he put it inside me. I lowered the condom to his shaft. Later there would be time for me to touch him, feel him, put my mouth on him. But now I couldn’t take my time. The need was too great, too demanding.

A knock came on the hood of the car. I screamed, jumped. My butt hit the car horn and the subsequent honk made me scream again.

A round of applause went up somewhere in the darkness. I froze.

The nastiest curse words I’d ever heard ripped from Alec’s mouth as he tucked himself back inside his pants.

“Is there someone behind me?” I asked when I was able to speak.

“Yes. Goddammit.”

I still didn’t move. I couldn’t. I could only close my eyes and wish to disappear.

“I was afraid of that,” I said.

“Alec? That you?” came a voice from outside the car.

“Oh dear God.” I tried to move back to my seat, but Alec held me firmly in place. His seat back rose as he jerked the lever.

Then to my shock, he rolled down the window.

I buried my face in his neck, hiding beneath my wild, sexed-up hair. I could still feel the ache in my body, now heightened by the presence of others. Thank everything holy my dress was still covering my top half.

“Hey, Mac,” said Alec.

Shoot me now. They were friends.

“Just thought you’d want to know you’ve got an audience.”

With the window open, I could hear the voices through the dark. I didn’t chance lifting my head to look. I didn’t even know where we were. I’d been fairly distracted when we’d stopped.

“Can’t you tell them to fuck off?” asked Alec tightly.

“Hey!” called the man outside. “Fuck off, you guys! Alec and . . .”

“Anna,” said Alec.

I snorted. Or sobbed. And somehow ended up swallowing a laugh.

Kill. Me. Now.

“Alec and Anna need some privacy!” called Mac.

“Then they shouldn’t have pulled into a parking lot!” called someone through the distance.

“A parking lot?” I whispered. “You pulled into a parking lot?” I bit him hard on the neck.

He winced, hands squeezing around my ribs.

“You didn’t seem to mind a second ago,” he said.

“Well, I’ll just give you two a minute,” said Mac. “See you inside.” The sound of his footsteps trudging over the gravel disappeared as Alec rolled his window back up.

I pulled back to look him in the face. He had the good sense to look worried.

“A fucking parking lot? Are you kidding me?”

I looked behind me, but it was only dark. If I focused, I could hear sounds beyond the still-running motor—the water lapping against the shore somewhere nearby, the quiet thrum of music.

And several male voices, now booing.

“Technically we’re not in a parking lot,” Alec said. “The restaurant’s down the road a bit. Behind the trees.” I couldn’t see the lights behind the brush.

I slapped him on the shoulder. “This is the second restaurant today I can’t go back to because of you.”

“Believe me,” said Alec. “The people that come here have seen far worse.”

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he meant he’d done this sort of thing here a lot.

“So you brought me to some kind of strip club for our first date? Nice.”

He shrugged. “You said you were hungry. They have the best burgers on the Bay.”

I shook my head. As much as I wanted to move back to the passenger seat and make him take me somewhere else, I didn’t want to shrink off into the distance. He should know I wasn’t a coward.

“And those guys cheering are all your friends.”

He cringed. “Some of them. Mac’s the cook. He and I go back a ways.”