The Touch of Bliss — A Sensual Reckoning (Muse of Shadow) (3 page)

She pulled her top back on, pert and professional again in a
heartbeat. But as she gathered up her basket and stepped to the second door,
she turned back.

“Most of the guests go for dinner around six or seven, but the
chef lays in an even better course at nine. I’ll book a table for us. If you
like.” When she smiled, it carried the shyness again, so completely at odds
with what had just happened here.

“I’d like that,” I heard myself saying. Then she was gone.

Part Four

D___ HAD PICKED OUT the resort, but as with the outfit
I’d worn for the drive up, I’d picked out my clothes. Even leaving the
apartment in tears as I had, no idea where he’d gone or if he was coming back, I’d
clung to that last shred of the life I felt rapidly falling apart around me.

As I stepped out of the bath that night, I was very glad of that.

How long has it been since you had a first date, anyway?

The afternoon had passed by in a blur. I hadn’t stayed long in
the bodywork suite, and I certainly hadn’t gotten myself off again, as she put
it. I felt like I was making some sort of walk of shame through the spa,
worried that every set of eyes would be watching me, that every gasp and groan
and moan of pleasure I’d made had been heard. But no one looked at me as I
quietly padded back to the elevator. No one commented on the flush that I still
felt at my face. No one heard the wetness between my legs that I was sure must
be sloshing as I walked, it was so overwhelming.

Back in my room, I soaked in the tub until the water had grown
tepid. I dressed and went for a long walk, following the signs along what
looked to be the easiest of the resort’s hiking trails. I had my earbuds in and
my iPod turned up, because I needed not to think. Because I needed not to let
myself feel as afraid as I knew I should be.

Everybody says that change is always scary.

I needed to not remember what had happened in that white room,
because I felt that memory waiting to swallow me whole and never let go again.

When I got back to the room, I stripped off my clothes and hit
the shower. I masturbated furiously. Then and only then, I let myself remember.

Remember her licking you. Remember her hands on you, her
fingers inside you as you climax for her. Remember how much you want to lick
her back now, to taste that dark bush and the sweet flower within.

I climaxed once in the shower. I climaxed twice more in the bed.
I had to stop and turn the TV on at one point, because I was worried about the
noise I was going to make if I managed a third time.

And would she even let you lick her? Would she want you to?
Would you be good enough for her?

I needed a nap when I was done. I ordered a clubhouse from room
service at four-thirty. I watched HBO while I ate. I masturbated again.

This is becoming seriously habit forming. How is it that you
never managed to realize this before?

I showered one last time, keeping it cool to try to calm the heat
at my crotch and the flush that refused to leave my face and breasts.

I put on a black lace-waist thong. No bra, which excited me more
than it probably should have.

I picked out a lace-trim pencil skirt in black that D___ had
always said did an optimal job showing off my butt. I topped it with a silk
tank top in white that left my nipples visible from a mile away. Those I subtly
subdued beneath a cropped tuxedo jacket that I hadn’t worn in years.

I hadn’t worn the jacket in years because D___ had stopped liking
it at some point. That seemed important to me.

I chose a set of diamond earrings in white gold. I kept the
makeup to a minimum, if only because my hands were shaking and I didn’t trust
myself with mascara or eyeliner. A cherry-red lipstick went well with the pink
flush that was still coloring my cheeks.

From the two pairs of dress shoes I’d packed, I went with the black
flats, conscious of how I was taller than her and not wanting to accentuate
that. Not wanting to stand out.

I was almost at the door when I stopped to pull the panties off.

This is wrong. This is right. This is what it needs to be.

By the time I reached the elevator, I felt an unaccustomed
coolness between my legs where my sex was already growing wet. My pulse was
beating quickly, tripping in my chest as the doors closed.

The restaurant hadn’t been part of my initial tour, but its
elegance matched the rest of the resort to perfection. Fireplaces blazed along
each wall, small tables set at a nicely intimate distance apart and covered
with white linen that fell almost to the floor. The lighting was subdued but
not dark, the walls hung with drapes in gentle shades of blue. The
wall-to-ceiling windows showed the starlight beyond, layered with the faint flickering
of candles that burned with the honeyed scent of beeswax.

I saw her from across the room as I hung back at the entrance,
waiting to avoid the hostess while she led a younger couple to their table. I
slipped toward my mysterious masseuse with my gaze downcast, a quick count
showing thirty or so people still in the dining room, and me desperate to not make
eye contact with any of them.

She smiled as I sat. “I’m glad you made it, Mrs. ___.”

“Thank you,” I said. My voice sounded far more controlled than I
felt.

She was in a cream strapless dress whose sweetheart neckline was
far too distracting. I managed to focus past that view by forcing my eyes to
hers. My mind was trying to form a single question that I needed desperately to
ask her, even as I knew how ridiculous it would sound given what had already
happened between us.

“What’s your name?”

She laughed at that. “Serina,” she said. “I’m so sorry, I really
should have said.”

“I’m Lori,” I said. “Not Mrs. ___. Most likely not, anyway.” A
board of fresh-baked bread was still steaming on the table between us, and I attacked
it with the knife to avoid seeing her reaction to that.

Sitting across the table from me, I was aware of how absolutely
beautiful she was. In a weird way, I hadn’t seen that before because of how
even more overwhelmingly sexy she was. She had gone more all out with the
makeup than I had. Her eyes were gorgeously edged with a sweep of violet
mascara, her lashes long and dark. A hint of rouge against her chocolate skin
picked up the dark red of her lipstick, the same that she’d worn this morning
by my guess.

One kiss, barely a moment, and you remember those lips on
yours better than you remember any kiss you’ve ever had. How is that even
possible?

A waiter swung by with two carafes of wine, a white and a red, that
Serina must have ordered before I arrived. She made a motion for me to choose,
and I went for the red. It was perfect, dusky and dry. For my first sip, I
drained half the glass before I forced myself to stop.

She took a sip from the white, her dark eyes watching me. “I’m
sorry about you and your husband,” she said. “I hope it works out for you, one
way or another. But I think you made the right choice coming here by yourself.
You can’t let these things stop you from doing what you need.”

That only would have made sense before coming here, though.
Before everything you thought you needed suddenly started to change.

“How did you know about…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say his
name.

Not here, not now. Don’t ruin it by going back…

I focused, speaking more clearly. “How did you know why I’m here
alone?”

“I was with another client at the front desk when you checked in.
I heard you talking to the concierge. You told him pretty much everything.”

The look on my face must have given away my confusion.

“You don’t remember?” she asked gently.

I could only shake my head. That entire process of arriving had
been nothing but a blur of voices and uncertainty in the immediate aftermath.
In the aftermath of that aftermath, with everything that had happened since, it
was even more so.

Serina smiled, just a little sadly. “Poor baby,” she said. “I’m
glad you’re feeling better.”

I felt her foot on my leg suddenly. I had to fight not to flinch.
I glanced around from the corner of my eye. But even more than the fact that no
one else was paying any attention to us, I remembered when I saw the nearest
tables how low the tablecloths were hanging. No one could see what was
happening.

With an expert precision that I could only marvel at, Serina was
up and under my skirt, up my thigh and between my legs without missing a beat. No
mean feat with a pencil skirt. Then she discovered the lack of panties. I felt
myself blushing. As her toes began to tickle my bush, her smile got even wider.

Dinner was prime rib and Yorkshire pudding, and I don’t remember
a bite of it. Serina did most of the talking, filling me in on how long she’d
worked at
BLISS
(three years), and where she’d come from beforehand (Ashland,
Oregon), and before that (backpacking across Europe and Asia for most of three
years). I managed to fill in a few details of my life, or at least the parts of
it that I could talk about. She didn’t press for any of the rest, which I was
thankful for.

I don’t remember what we ordered for dessert. Some kind of white cake
with clotted cream, strawberries and melted chocolate on the side. I’m sure it
was delicious, but I was focused on just watching Serina eat. With every bite,
she made sure to slip her tongue out to embrace her fork before her lips closed
around it. She knew I was watching. She knew what she was doing to me. It only
made her giggle, which made me laugh in return, the two of us acting like
schoolgirls suddenly.

Her foot came back up between my legs at some point, gently
massaging my mound. I was thankfully too wound up, and her toes too far from my
clitty, to get anywhere near to a climax. But even still, by the time we
finished coffee and liqueur, I was sure I must have been flushed bright pink
from head to toe. I had never been more thankful for candlelight in my life.

Through the hour and more of listening to her talk about herself,
I felt one question rooting deep in my mind that I knew I had to ask. It was
hard, though.

When you don’t know where you are, it makes it oh so difficult
to know which way to turn.

“Do you do this a lot?” I finally blurted. Serina had a
chocolate-covered strawberry on its way to her mouth, and I felt myself
flushing even more as she slipped it between her lips.

“Dessert, you mean? Not usually. I don’t handle the carbs well.”
She smiled.

“Not what I mean. What I mean is… well, me. People. Strangers. I
can imagine what it’s like working with naked people all day. I’m sure you get
all sorts of chances to…”

Her hand reached across the table to squeeze mine. Her foot was
still at my crotch, so that I felt a sudden circuit connected between us, her
touch running into me, through me, back to her again.

“I knew what you meant,” she said softly. “I made a joke because
I’m feeling awkward enough about this that I’m still not sure how to say it.”

“Say it truthfully,” I said. “That’s all I want.”

But the truth is a dangerous thing and you know it. The truth
can cut you, can leave you all alone.

“No,” Serina said. I saw her bite her lower lip as if she was
thinking, but all I could think about was seeing that same expression in the
steam room as she climaxed. “I’ve never done this before. Never anything even
remotely like it. What happened today would cost me my job in a heartbeat if
anyone ever found out. It was so stupid of me, I don’t know what I was…”

This time it was my hands squeezing her. Her fingers tight in
mine across the tabletop. My other hand beneath the table, stroking her calf
inside my skirt.

“It’s okay,” I said.

She smiled again, and I saw the sadness there again. “It’s beautiful
here, but it’s remote. And I had a couple of flings with people on staff when I
first started, but when the fling doesn’t work out, you still need to keep
working together, and that’s tough. So I just kind of keep to myself, mostly.”

“So you never…?” I began.

“With a client? Never. Not until…” She shrugged, and she seemed
so incredibly young in that moment that it made me feel young, too.

“So why me, then? I mean, if you heard me blubbering all over the
concierge, I’m sure you felt sorry for me and all, but…”

“Because you’re so beautiful.”

I felt something trip over heavily in my chest. I felt my heart
suddenly hammering, my pulse loud in my head.

It’s been so long since anyone told you that. Longer still
since you told yourself that. How is it that you even recognize the words
anymore?

“I was barely even listening to you when you checked in. I just
thought you were so gorgeous. That mesh top you were wearing was just…”

She sipped at her coffee as her voice broke, as if looking for an
excuse not to speak. Her hands were shaking.

She’s as scared as you are. But how could what you are make
anyone feel the way she says she feels?

“I stuck the note under your door. It just felt like the
stupidest thing I’d ever done. But then you came, and in the hot tub… when I
saw you, I just wanted you so badly. I haven’t fallen for anyone like that,
just physically, I mean, for so long. I never should have come on to you like
that. And this morning, I booked you that appointment. I could have gotten us
both in so much trouble, Lori. I’m so sorry.”

Beneath the table, I hiked my skirt up high along my thighs. I
spread my legs as wide as I dared. I watched Serina bite her lip again as she felt
the full extent of my wetness against her foot. I felt her big toe blindly
seeking out my clitty, but I held her back, gently. Based on how wired I was, I
knew how dangerous things were going to get if she touched me there.

I felt her pull away from me, and a sudden ache rose at my sex
where I’d gotten used to her touch. She stretched herself, reminding me how
long she’d held her leg against me.

“Will you take a walk with me, Lori?”

I could only nod.