Want It Bad (12 page)

But when she considered the intensity and quality of last night’s orgasm, ashamed didn’t even come into the picture.

She giggled. “I’m probably not paying him enough.”

Carla wished he’d let her tip him. She tipped waiters, and bellmen, and cab drivers, and hairdressers, and always left extra money for the maid. Jake was most definitely in the service industry—Carla couldn’t recall ever having better service, anywhere. She was, at this point in her life, wealthy and successful and able to afford the finer things in life.

And Jake definitely qualified.

He was an extravagance, and she was treating herself. Like that two hundred dollar bottle of Sam Adams Utopias—the world’s most expensive beer—that she had in the closet. Or those Gucci pumps that cost more than…

Well, they cost a lot. A whole lot. And as much pleasure as she got from the Utopias, or the Guccis, she got a lot more from Jake.

Stepping out of the shower, she ran a wide-toothed comb through her hair then worked in some styling gel and let it air dry. She moisturized her body with lotion, gave her teeth a floss and scrub, and by the time she was done, she felt like a million bucks.

So… what to wear?

This wasn’t a date, so Carla didn’t want to dress like it was a date. She opened her closet, but all that jumped out at her were business suits. Stylish, expensive, and impeccably tailored, they made her feel like a professional, powerful and secure, but Janet was right that they weren’t much fun.

Carla wanted to dress fun.

She rummaged through hanger after hanger of neutral blazers and trousers and her weekend uniform of tailored jeans, finally finding some color on the end. The first thing Carla fished out was a ratty denim mini from her college days. Fun. Young. Worth a try.

She slipped it on without underwear. It still fit, which bolstered her confidence right there, but staring at herself in the full length mirror reminded her of Daisy Duke. All she needed was hayseed sticking out of her teeth.

Pass.

She tried another skirt, a beige leather one she’d bought on sale right after she’d joined the firm but had never worn.

Too long, down to mid-calf.

“Who would make a skirt this awkward length, and why would I buy it?” she asked herself.

Pass.

Next to it was a jade wrap dress, one she hadn’t worn in ten years but loved. Three-quarter length sleeves, just above the knee, a low neckline, fun and flirty and possibly the most comfortable item of clothing she owned besides yoga pants. The only problem with it was finding a bra low cut enough to work.

Not a problem if I don’t wear a bra.

Carla smiled to herself then put on the dress. It draped over her curves perfectly, the V neckline accenting her breasts and the light fabric showing just a hint of nipple. Definitely daring and fun.

She padded over to her underwear drawer. What panties would be best? Cotton and practical? Satin and naughty?

“None at all,” she said to herself, and a little thrill shimmered up her spine.

Standing in front of the mirror, she gave a little twirl. The dress clung to her skin, a small breeze lifting the skirt and whispering over her bare skin. Positively decadent.

For shoes, she went with her Gucci pumps. The most expensive item of clothing she owned. The heels were maybe a bit too high, but she liked how they made her stand more erect, made her back arch, made her butt lift.

Perfume? No. Just some unscented deodorant. She really liked the smell of Jake’s house, of Jake. And, somewhat embarrassingly, she also enjoyed the scent of her own arousal. No need to cover that up.

Make-up?

Carla hardly ever left the house without make-up. She never went full-blown beauty queen like Janet, who wore enough bright lipstick to be seen by orbiting satellites. But Carla did like a deliberate, professional appearance. Some foundation to smooth out skin tone, powder to set it, a touch of blush, a bit of eye liner and…

No. Fuck it.

She wasn’t out to impress her clients. Or her business associates. Or a man, for that matter. Carla wouldn’t wear make-up if she was going to the spa, so why wear it while treating herself to a day of debauchery?

Instead she found a tube of cherry lip gloss. It gave her a hint of color, but she cared more about the fact that it moisturized and tasted like candy. Next, jewelry. Considering the, ahem,
situations
she expected to get into later, she didn’t want to wear anything delicate, or that could get snagged or lost. She chose a thick gold cuff for her left wrist—a birthday gift to herself when she’d turned forty. Then she remembered Coco Chanel’s advice; before you leave the house, remove one accessory. So Carla took off the bangle, and decided it was the right move. 

Her hair was still damp, so she spritzed it with a styling spray to control the flyaways, did another quick twirl in the mirror, and then headed over to Jake’s.

When she rang his front doorbell, Carla had a flutter in her stomach, and her nipples had tightened, even more noticeable poking out through the form-fitting fabric. Definitely a side effect of going braless, the cool morning air swirling under the dress. But Carla knew it was more than that.

I’m excited.

Her job was immensely satisfying, and it certainly had a lot of instances where celebration was in order. Every time a verdict went her way, or she landed a big settlement, Carla was geeked.

But standing on Jake’s front porch was a different kind of excitement. Like getting onto a roller coaster after waiting in a long line. She was nervous and giggly and psyched and amazingly turned on, even though he hadn’t yet opened the door.

When the door did open, Carla jumped.

“Good morning,” Jake said.

“Good morning,” she managed to answer, taking him in.

He wore jeans, an untucked button-down shirt with much of his chest bare, and his dark hair damp like hers. He looked like he was ready for a Gap photo shoot.

He’s gorgeous.

He smiled at her with those blue eyes. “You look lovely.”

It was said with such obvious sincerity, Carla blushed. She’d purposely dressed for herself, not for him or anyone else. But the way he looked at her, the glint in his eye, the curl of his mouth, she knew he liked what he saw. And she had to admit that pleased her. “Thanks.”

“Ready to eat?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Good, because I’m starving.”

Jake dropped to his knees, raised the hem of her dress, and ducked underneath. Gripping her hips, he moved close, parting her legs with his body, and took her with his mouth.

“Oh. My. God.”

Carla staggered backward, pressing against the door frame. There was no teasing like yesterday. No tickling her with his breath, getting her warmed up. His tongue went straight for her most sensitive spot, and he pinned her with his mouth, devouring her.

Carla’s legs wobbled, and she wished she had a bedpost to hold, handcuffs to keep her on her feet, the challenge of standing under her own power making every sensation sharper. He found the rhythm she liked, and she ground against him. Finding her balance, Carla hooked her right leg over his shoulder. Her breasts bounced in the form-fitting dress, nipples pointed straight in the air.

Why didn’t anyone tell me about escorts when I was in my twenties?

She stared out into the neighborhood, wondering if anyone was watching him take her like this, and somewhere deep inside, Carla liked the idea, even imagined for a moment that she was totally naked for all to see. Her muscles clenched tighter, the pressure building, the roar once again filling her ears. She grasped his hair and pulled him closer, riding his mouth.

Zero to orgasm in sixty seconds.

Carla’s legs folded, but she managed to catch herself, holding on to Jake’s shoulders as he continued to consume her. A moan shuddered from her throat, and she bit back a scream.

When the shudders of orgasm slowed down, Jake carefully balanced her back on her feet and stood up. He grinned, his chin glistening with her juices. “Ready for coffee?” he asked.

“I don’t need any,” she said on a puff of breath. “I’m up.”

“Me, too.”

Carla lowered her gaze to the erection straining against Jake’s jeans. She reached for him without thinking, needing to touch him.

He caught her wrist. “Remember the rules?”

She chewed her lower lip, tasting cherry. “Sorry. I forgot. I’m new to this.”

Jake’s eyes twinkled. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish you for that.”

Carla squirmed at the thought, still a little afraid, but mostly so turned on she wasn’t sure she could walk.

As if sensing the weak tremor in her legs, Jake looped an arm around the small of her back and led her into the house. It was a simple gesture, polite, but somehow it felt even more intimate than when he’d just gone down on her. Carla remembered the intimacy of holding hands with a boyfriend, his arm around her as they walked, and she realized she missed that as much as the orgasms.

Well,
almost
as much.

When they reached the kitchen, he guided her into a chair at the table and went to the refrigerator. Jake brought out two plates of fruit salad and set one in front of her. Grapes, cherries, and cubes of apple, various melons, kiwi, and an assortment of berries.

“No fork?”

Jake sat across from her and popped a slice of kiwi between his lips. “Eating with your hands is sexier, don’t you think?”

Carla selected a particularly juicy chunk of watermelon and placed it in her mouth. Sweet and cool and wet. Delicious.

“Napkins?” she asked.

Jake lightly took her hand and brought her fingers to his mouth. He gently sucked off the fruit juice, taking her into his mouth and moving his tongue over the pad of her finger.

A shiver fanned out over Carla’s skin.

“I’ve got some on my lips, too,” she said, surprising herself with boldness. Based on his oral skills, Jake was no doubt an excellent kisser. The thought of his mouth on hers, the stubble on his jaw grinding against her cheek, their tongues dancing was enough to make her toes curl in her Guccis.

For a moment, Jake didn’t react. He just stared at her, and Carla wondered if she’d crossed a line.

“Is kissing okay in your, um, profession?” she asked. “I know in
Pretty Woman
, Julia Roberts didn’t kiss any clients because it was too personal.”

Jake’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I just went down on you in the doorway. Some people would consider that to be pretty personal.”

“I…”

Jake leaned in and touched his lips to her cheek, cutting off her comment, slowly moving across her chin, and then meeting her mouth. He tasted like fruit and guy and something tangy. Carla realized, with a bit of a shock, that the tangy flavor was her own juices.

Jake’s tongue softly met hers, and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel it. Some men kissed with their lips, others with their tongues, but Jake seemed to kiss with his whole being. Just as he’d devoured her moments ago, he made love to her with his mouth now, and Carla could feel herself getting more aroused than she’d thought possible. She loved to kiss even more than holding hands. It was her favorite part of being a couple.

The thought made her pull abruptly away.

She and Jake
weren’t
a couple. This was a business transaction. She had to remember that. Here she’d been worried about Jake taking a kiss personally. Stupid. He was a professional. It was Carla who was in danger of making things personal.

Jake put his hand on the side of her face, brushed some hair behind her ear. “I like you, Carla. I like being with you. I enjoyed kissing you just now. I’m not some heartless robot driven by greed. I regret that we got off to a somewhat confusing start. I hope you can get beyond that. You deserve to have a good time. You owe it to yourself.”

She giggled nervously. “So, you read minds, too?”

“I’m going to do things with you that you’ve never imagined. Not
to
you.
With
you. Relax. Don’t overthink it. This is fun.”

“How did you become so wise when you’re so young?”

He winked. “I’ve learned a lot from older women.”

Jake brought a piece of strawberry to her lips. She opened her mouth, and he circled it around, lightly, teasing her. Carla finally strained for it, catching it in her teeth, taking the succulent fruit into her mouth. Then Jake brought his lips to hers, sharing the berry, the sweetness binding their kiss. Carla’s reluctance seeped away, and she lost herself in the moment.

“So,” she said when he pulled away, “aren’t you going to feed me while I’m blindfolded?”

“Isn’t that from the movie
9½ Weeks
?”

Carla nodded. She thought that scene was one of the sexiest ever.

“If you’d like me to. We could spend an hour where I feed you all kinds of things. Or I can take you to the pleasure dungeon and make you come a dozen times. Lady’s choice.”

A dozen?

Carla didn’t know if that many orgasms in one day were even possible. But since sexual pleasure was the whole reason she was here, she’d give it her best shot. She plucked a slice of apple from the bowl, popped it into her mouth, and said, “All done.”

Grinning, Jake took her hand and led her into the house. This time they passed the bedroom where Jake had handcuffed Carla, and came to a closed door at the end of the hallway. Hand on the knob, Jake paused.

“There are going to be some things in here that might seem scary,” he said. “But that’s part of the fun. If you wanted to have plain, vanilla sex, you could easily find some guy to accommodate you. The point of the dungeon is more than just orgasms. It’s to push boundaries. To see how much you can handle.”

Carla could feel the anticipation building. “You’re freaking me out a little.”

“Last night you said you wanted to test yourself, go places you’ve never gone.”

She had wanted that last night. But now? She didn’t know. The only thing she was sure of was that she wanted Jake. Or at least she wanted what he could do for her.

“Have you changed your mind?”