Chapter Five

High Society

The Fairmont Chateau Laurier hotel sat upon the bank of the Ottawa river, bordered on the west by the Parliament Buildings and on the east by Sussex Street. The area had an old-world feel—as close to it as it could seeing as Canada didn’t have Europe’s legacy of rising and falling civilizations. There was a rumor that the Parliament Buildings had been built over an indigenous burial site, and this could be true. This land had been occupied when the settlers from Europe came over and ‘discovered’ it.

Our Uber driver was a middle-aged man who didn’t seem to care that we were two men heading to the fanciest hotel in Ottawa at 12:20 a.m. He let us off at the entrance and pulled away as Alastair ushered me inside. I tried not to be impressed but, really, who wouldn’t have been? It was a huge space, for one thing, with a warm glow of light that illuminated the gleaming and luxurious finishes. An arrangement of leather sofas and chairs defined the comfortable lobby.

Alastair made his way to the reception desk as I hung back, gazing up at the second-floor balconies that looked down on the lobby. There was no one around, so I was free to display my astonishment at the grandeur of the old hotel, until Alastair came back with our room cards.

“Shall we?” he said, handing one to me.

I looked at it, expecting it to be in gold or something like that, but it seemed like any other hotel room card. I was honestly a little disappointed.

The number six-fifteen was written on the holder in blue pen.

“It’s on the city side.”

“Huh?” I asked. “As opposed to the country?”

He laughed. “No, as opposed to having a view of the Parliament Buildings or the courtyard.”

“Oh. Wow, look at you. You have stayed here a few times.”

He shrugged. “Well, my friend…”

“I know. Her name is Delphine.”

Alastair blushed. “Yes. Well, Delphine can usually get me a good deal.”

“That’s why we’re here.”

“Yes,” he said. He stared at me curiously. “Are you okay?”

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling less brave than I had at Molly’s and wondering if this was a good idea or not. Probably it wasn’t, but I was trying to figure out how much I cared.

“Yeah, I just feel…a bit lost.”

Alastair reached out and took my hand—the one that wasn’t holding the room card. He looked around but we were completely alone.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

I contemplated the sincerity of his expression, then nodded. “I’m glad I’m here with you, too.”

He led me to the elevators. When we got there, he released my hand.

“Is this too much? I’m sorry. I just really like this place, and I knew I could get us in.” He seemed eager to put me at ease, which I appreciated. “I should’ve just found somewhere—”

“It’s fine,” I said, as the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. “I’m not used to being treated so well.”

He frowned. “Now that’s a shame.”

We stepped in, and Alastair pressed the button to close the doors. They made a soft swish as they did. We had privacy together for the first time.

In seconds the sexual tension was so thick I was swimming in it.

Alastair gazed at me with heavy-lidded eyes, and I was overtaken by the desire I’d been fighting since that first kiss on the sidewalk.

“Fuck,” I breathed, surging forward and grabbing the lapels of his coat.

“Toby,” he whispered, just before I attached my lips to his face.

He opened his mouth and let me plunder it with my out-of-control arousal. Whatever we had between us, it flared up like a five-alarm fire. He was hard. I was hard. And the elevator was whisking us up to a luxurious room on the sixth floor.

Ding.

We wrenched apart, breathing hard, as the elevator door swished open.

An elderly woman in a fur coat stood there. She blinked at us as we stepped into the hallway. I hadn’t expected to see anyone at this hour, let alone an old lady.

“Hello,” I said. “What a lovely evening.” I took Alastair’s hand and laced our fingers together.

Alastair puffed a laugh, his eyes dancing in a wonderful way, as the old lady looked us over.

“Looks like it will be,” she said with a smirk. I put my hand over my mouth as she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button. The doors closed.

Alastair and I gaped at each other, then burst out laughing.

“Shh, shh,” I said, “there are people sleeping!”

“Do you suppose she was on her way to an…assignation?” Alastair giggled.

“Oh fuck off. She was at least eighty.”

He pointed an accusatory finger at me.

“That’s ageism. I hope I’m still fucking people when I’m eighty,” Alastair said.

“Something tells me you will be,” I quipped, pulling him along. “Come on. By the time we get to our room, you might be that old.”

“Cute. You know, you’re bossy when you’re horny.”

“You have no idea.”

I found room six-fifteen and slid my key card through the slot, pushed down on the handle and pulled him into the room behind me.

“Okay. I need you to sit down in that chair,” I said, pointing to the armchair by the window. “And wait for me.”

“Toby, do you like the room? Is it everything you dreamed of?” Alastair asked, sweeping his arm around us at the king-sized bed and the polished wood furniture. There was even a box of Godiva chocolates and a bottle of non-alcoholic wine on the table.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice. Honestly, all we need is a bed.”

He blinked. “Huh.” He put his key card on the table by the bed. “Wham bam thank you ma’am.”

He wasn’t actually offended by that remark, was he? I was relieved by the soft smile he gave me as he took off his suit jacket.

“Oh, you’ll be thanking me in about ten minutes,” I said, throwing my coat on the bench by the closet.

“Ten minutes!”

“No, no, no, I mean, for the first part…the very first part. I have a surprise.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, get on with it, then.”

“That’s very romantic,” I bemoaned as I ducked into the bathroom with my backpack. “Oh shit, it’s pretty fucking nice in here. Swanky.” My voice echoed off the tiles.

Alastair laughed, and it sounded surprisingly genuine.

“Are you sitting in the chair?” I asked through the bathroom door.

“Yes. I’m being a very good boy.”

Good.

I liked good boys—especially good boys who were actually just-shy-of-thirty-six-year-old men who were tall and hot and kissed you like they did in the movies.

I stumbled out of my jeans and T-shirt. My cock looked obscene trapped in the black lace panties, and I mentally told it to settle down and that we had a little time before the big event. How much time, I wasn’t sure, since it was heading on to one a.m., and we’d almost combusted in the elevator.

Anyway. I took the opportunity to give my bits a bit of a wash, in preparation for…whatever was going to happen between us.

“You going to be much longer?” Alastair’s voice startled me. The good boy had got out of the chair and must be standing right in front of the door. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you? I mean, just tell me because we don’t have to—”

I opened the bathroom door and poked my head out.

“I’m not having second thoughts. Are you?”

Alastair looked relieved…and also hot as fuck.

“No. Definitely not. I’m having trouble waiting.”

I gave him an ironic smile. “And having trouble sitting in the chair.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, yes. Sorry.”

“Go. Sit. I’ll be out soon.”

“Fine.”

I got into the garter and stockings, then sat on the closed toilet to do up my shoes. Then I put on the chemise and corset, making sure it was straight and that the chemise gaped in a pretty way. I touched up my eyeliner and rouged my lips. I messed up my hair a bit, giving myself an air kiss in the mirror. I almost forgot the velvet choker but remembered at the last minute.

Fuck, I looked totally luscious. He was going to die. Not literally…but of lust or something.

“Are you sitting in the chair?” I asked through the door.

“Oh my God. Yes. Are you coming out?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Close your eyes.”

“Fuck. Fine.”

“Are they closed?”

“Yes!”

I made my way across the carpeted room, over to where he sat in the armchair like a kid at detention, his ass halfway across the seat, legs splayed, foot tapping with impatience. His broad hand was over his eyes. I hoped he wasn’t peeking.

“Are you peeking?”

“Absolutely not.” But he sounded very, very turned on, and I had my doubts.

I leaned over and put an elbow on the desk beside the armchair, cradling my chin, and angled my bloomered ass toward him.

“Okay. You can look.”

He looked.

“Oh holy fuck.” He sounded breathless and impressed…exactly what I’d been hoping for.

His gaze drifted over me as he sat up and leaned forward, his eyes widening.

“Toby.”

“Yes, Alastair?”

“I thought you said—”

“Eh,” I shrugged. “I took a risk for you.”

Alastair could barely smile he was so turned on, but he tried. “Oh, I’m so glad.”

“I knew you would be.”

“Don’t fucking move.”

I froze, instantly obedient to the authority in his voice. If I was bossy, then Alastair was commanding. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t want to.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked, my voice rough.

“Shhh. Quiet.”

Oh, fuck me. I think I whimpered, but everything was a horny blur.

He pressed against me as he leaned over my body, circling his arms over mine on the desk, his lips on my chin as he kissed me with a gentleness that belied his easy authority.

His erection nudged me from under the fabric of his pants. He rocked his hips as he licked the shell of my ear, and I almost died.

“Oh fuck,” I said.

He groaned and pressed into me with more force. Then, suddenly, he was gone. I felt bereft. I went to stand, but his hand pressed against my lower back, keeping me there. It was so goddamn assertive and hot that I was about to explode.

“Stay still.”

“Okay.”

“I just want to see,” he said, his words practical but the tone almost reverent.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He took his hand away, but I stayed where I was, lowering my chest to the desk and stretching my arms out in front.

He slid his fingers under the elastic waistband of the bloomers and dragged it past my ass, until it was mid-thigh.

“Oh, my fucking God,” he murmured. I felt the warmth of his breath on my bare skin, then he kissed my buttock, making me gasp as the soft hairs of his goatee tickled it.

“I know, right?” I gulped, wondering how long I could go without embarrassing myself by coming like a teenager.

“This is part of the uniform?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus. Those guys go all out. I figured it would just be modern stuff. Not…not fucking lace and garters.”

“You like?” I asked, wiggling my ass.

“Oh my God. Toby.” He kissed my other buttock and fingered the strap of my garter. “I want to jerk myself off all over you.”

“No! I have to take this stuff back tomorrow!”

He groaned and stroked his hand along my hip and up in between my thighs.

I gasped.

“You’re killing me,” he said, but I heard the smile in his voice.

“I really hope that’s not true.”

“No,” he laughed, but it sounded like a hiccup. “Anyway, I’ve got a better idea.”

“Cool,” I said, trembling like a fucking schoolgirl. I wished he’d get on with it. “I don’t want you to fuck me, though,” I said. “Anyway, not yet. Maybe later.”

“I promise I won’t unless you change your mind.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s only common courtesy,” he said.

“Not as common as you think.”

“Touché. May I take your panties down?” he asked.

“Why, yes, you may.”

Alastair’s fingers trembled as he hooked them under the edge of the elastic and edged the panties down my ass, slow as treacle.

“Wait. They’re snagging on my”—I puffed a laugh—“boner.”

“Oh shit, sorry.”

I slipped a hand down to pull the edge of the panties over my cock, then got back into position as Alastair tugged them down.

“Wow. You have a gorgeous ass.”

I wiggled it for him. “Thanks.”

“No, really. It’s fucking beautiful.”

Nobody had ever called me beautiful before. I tried not to let it go to my head—and failed.

I pressed my forehead against my arm. “Well, Alastair—or should I call you Mr. Kenney?—if it’s so damn beautiful, can you please do something to it before I perish into a puddle of goo on this desk?”

“Okay, okay. Wait! Would you call me Mr. Kenney?”

“Of course, Mr. Kenney. Whatever you say, Mr. Kenney.” Oh, that was super-hot.

“Fucking hell. Yes. Yes, that’s good.”

I couldn’t help a shaky laugh. “Is it?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Beautiful? Perfect? This man could sweet-talk me off the edge of a cliff—something that should have made me wary but only reminded me how much I’d been playing it safe lately.

He used his thumbs to spread me, and I was glad I’d washed there with soap and water when I’d changed.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I panted.

He swiped his tongue over my hole as I cried out for Jesus. He kept going, making me squirm and pant and beg, his goatee soft on my sensitive skin and his tongue even more so.

I saw stars and couldn’t control my breathing. My heart pounded, and my cock dripped. I was a mess.

“I might… I might come…” I warned him, but he only gripped me harder and went at me with more force. “Oooooh, fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

My arm shot out of its own volition and a pencil holder skidded off the desk.

“Shit.”

“Never mind,” Alastair said, pulling back to speak. “Come if you want. I don’t care.”

I don’t know why those careless words made it harder to fight it, but I knew I was losing the battle.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” I keened.

The tip of his finger breached me.

I whimpered and pushed back against him. He sank his finger in deep and fluttered his tongue on my perineum.

“Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I yelled as I came in violent spasms, my body riding a wave of chaotic ecstasy as Alastair—Mr. Kenney—teased me with his fingertip.

He waited until I’d turned into a wet noodle before saying primly, “Well, that was unexpected.”

I blinked and tried to breathe. What? What!

“I told you I was gonna come!” I shouted, except it sounded like a dying gasp.

“I thought it was only dirty talk,” Alastair confessed.

“You thought… You thought…” I couldn’t scramble enough brain cells together to finish the sentence.

“I can’t believe you came hands free,” he said with amazement. “I thought that only happened in porn.”

I couldn’t believe he was still talking. I was floating, drifting on clouds of bliss and afterglow.

“Shhh. Shhh,” I said.

“What?”

“Quiet, please. I’m enjoying the aftereffects of your very skillful rim job. Don’t blow it.”

We realized what I’d said at the same time and started laughing.

“Can I get up now?” I asked.

“Let me help you.”

He pulled me to standing. I swayed, dizzy from the reorientation as my body came down from my orgasm.

He bent to pull my panties up, but I stopped him with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, really, what’s the point? Might as well take them off,” I said.

He smiled. My gaze landed on the outline of his massive erection under the dress pants.

“Ooh, you poor thing,” I murmured.

He saw where I was looking and blushed. “Yeah, well, that was pretty fucking hot, Toby.” He glanced at the carpet under the desk, and so did I. A decent-sized bubble of milky splooge sat primly on the paisley carpet.

“I’m going to clean that up,” Alastair said.

“That was your fault. I said I was gonna come.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It was definitely worth the mess.”

Alastair cleaned up my spunk with a bit of tissue then used a wet towel to wipe the spot, as I watched with fascination and amusement.

“You are such a gentleman. No wonder you’re so popular.”

He laughed and threw the towel into the bathroom. “Here… Come sit on the bed, and I’ll get these things off for you.”

Such a gentleman. And such a goddamn whore when he had me naked in front of him. The perfect combination, really. No, no, don’t think that way. This is only one night. It’s perfect for one night.

I walked over to the bed with my panties and stockings around my thighs, my cock tapping out, waving before me like a drunken sailor. I sat on the edge of the mattress and watched, wide-eyed, as Mr. Kenney went to his knees and lifted my booted foot into his lap. He smiled up at me, fire in his gaze.

“These are the sweetest shoes. Honestly. I think they’re my favorite part of the whole”—he gestured at me—“outfit.”

“A foot fetish, Mr. Kenney? You do surprise me.”

He laughed. “I like boots, I guess…and leather. And these are…so cute.” He undid the laces and eased the shoe off my stockinged foot.

“I hope my feet don’t smell,” I said.

He smiled, and lifted the boot to his nose, closing his eyes as he inhaled.

“Oh my God. Why is that so hot?” I squirmed, as desire ignited my core and made me half hard again.

He put down the boot and picked up my stockinged foot, lifting it to his face and sliding his nose along the arch. I leaned back on my elbows and watched with an incredulous smile. Whatever this was, I liked it. Nobody’d ever done anything like this before, and I was here for it.

He turned and kissed the bottom of my foot as I wiggled my toes. Then he lowered it to the floor and took off my other boot the exact same way.

“Wow. You are…dedicated.”

“I like to take my time. Enjoy things,” he murmured. “Enjoy you.”

I glanced at the clock. “It’s almost two. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Are you working tomorrow?” Alastair asked.

“Yeah. But not till three. You?”

He didn’t answer right away. He was pulling my panties and stockings down. I wondered if he’d sniff those, too.

He did.

Then he bunched them up and placed them to the side.

“I think I might call in sick,” he said.

I blinked. “Wow. That’s…very privileged of you.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” He shrugged. “I’ve been working there a long time. I have some leave saved up.”

“Convenient.”

“Very. That is, unless you have somewhere you need to be before your shift starts.”

We gazed at each other. This was supposed to have been a quick, let’s-get-each-other-off-as-fast-as-possible, results-focused encounter. And, I mean, I had fulfilled my part of that deal. But he didn’t seem to be in a rush. And if I was gonna get another nut out of it, well, I was fine with that.

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I don’t have anywhere to be before my shift.”

In fact, if I could avoid going home for a day, that would be fantastic. But he didn’t need to know about that.

Alastair smiled and gave a slow, satisfied, nod.

“Good.”

He stood and put a knee on the bed, looming over me, making me lean back until I hit the mattress with a giggle.

“Because I want to take my time.”