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Rita
Just before we reach the elevator, the doors open and an older couple starts to go in. We’re still seventeen stories high. That thing could totally get stuck again, or worse.
I take a hard left, heading for the stairs. Going down is easier than going up. I can handle it.
“Where are you going?” Dallas asks.
“Stairs.”
He chuckles and slips his arm around my waist, pulling me snug against his body as he gently redirects me toward the elevator. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“How can you say that after what happened?”
“We didn’t get hurt, did we?”
Well, that’s true. Just the opposite, in fact. We step inside and I put one arm around his waist, hanging on.
The doors slowly slide closed and I’m hyper aware of them, how they’re closing us off from all that space beyond and leaving us in this little box with these strangers who are just too damned close and that button panel with all the buttons because we’re so damned high and—
His voice sounds in my ear. “You’re okay.”
I close my eyes and turn into him, wrapping my arms around him and tucking my nose into the crook of his neck. He pulls me into a steady embrace and now it’s just me and him. I’m only vaguely aware of the fact that there are witnesses to my behavior. But they’re strangers anyway so why the fuck should I care if they think I’m too scared of an elevator to ride one properly?
All I know is Dallas is going to carry me safely down and I’m going to let him.
“Alright?” he whispers in my ear.
I nod.
“We should ride elevators together more often.”
I tighten my hold on him. “Is it almost over?”
“You mean are you one step closer to finishing what we started?” His voice still has that Rita Whisperer thing going on... that thing that tells me it’s okay and I’m safe.
But it also has this deep throaty quality that made me remember what I nearly forgot. We’re headed to his hotel room where I get to hold this strong body as much as I want. With clothes off.
My clit pulses.
“If there weren’t people in this elevator with us,” he growls deeply.
I make a humming sound, almost a purr, and mold my body to his in a different way. Then the elevator comes to a stop and I turn just as the doors ding open.
Well, that was fast.
The old couple leaves and Dallas brings me out into the building’s main lobby, our arms around one another and our sides linked together.
“How far is your hotel again?” I ask. He chuckles, but we both pick up the pace. He’s staying just a few short blocks from here, but it suddenly feels farther.
We go through the streets of Boise, lit up with street lights and flowing with people out enjoying a night on the town, stuck to each other’s sides and verbally flirting to keep the fire stoked.
By the time we reach his hotel and are stepping into yet another elevator—he’s on the third floor—we’re practically mauling each other. We’re the only ones in here so his hands are on my ass and my breasts and I’m stroking his massive erection all while indulging in shameless, hungry kisses.
I’m barely aware of going down the hall. Or of the door opening and closing. All I know is we’re alone at last and all constraints are gone.
He peels my dress off in one fluid motion. I undo his belt, which he rips out and throws to the floor. His shirt is somehow already untucked. I don’t even know where his suit coat went.
We tackle his shirt as one and when his chest is bared to me at last, I place both hands on his firm skin, followed by my mouth. I move to his taut nipple and suck, swiping the hard peak with my tongue.
He inhales, his hands hard in my hair. “Damn, Rita.”
His hand slides under the fabric of my panties, cupping my ass and giving it a firm squeeze. I slide my hand down the front of his open pants and wrap my fingers around his warm, taut cock.
He groans in my ear, his hand sliding between my legs from behind. I shudder, opening to him, going on tiptoe, wanting him to have room to touch me properly.
“Get on that bed, woman.”
We ditch the rest of our clothes and I comply, hurrying to lie down, ready for him come on top of me. He’s standing at the foot of the bed and squats slightly as he grabs my thighs and yanks me downward.
He leans over me, supporting himself on his arms as he kisses my mouth, my jaw, my neck. I’m angling my hips, trying to get him lined up. I want him right now. Then I remember.
“Condom?” I breathe.
“When it’s time.” Then he spreads those hot kisses along my collar bone, over my breasts, down my abdomen, my hips, the tender place at the crook of my thigh.
I open to him, aching for it. “Dallas.” I’ve never said anyone’s name with such raw wanting. “Please.”
When his tongue touches my clit, my back arches hard and my head angles back into the mattress. I didn’t realize how long it’s been for me until this moment. I don’t leave room for men in my life. And when I do, it’s not like this, so raw and vulnerable.
My body is consumed with fire, yes, but more than that, my heart is vibrant and molten. I’m yearning not just for a man’s touch, but for this man’s touch.
Does he know what he’s doing to me? He’s getting something inside of me to open.
He’s also bringing me to a rushing, raging orgasm, almost embarrassingly fast, but it feels too damned good to leave room for embarrassment. His tongue is like liquid fire. I’m bucking and crying out and trembling on that delicious, delicious sharp edge.
It’s almost unbearable, the acute ecstasy peaking between my legs and the powerful waves of pleasure washing over my body. All under the masterful ministration of Dallas Huntington.
Then I’m gripped in the claws of climax, shaking and gasping and wanting it to never, never stop.
And it damn near never does. Whether from instinct or experience, he knows exactly what to do to draw out every last ounce of pleasure until I’m left a boneless mass on the bed.
He stands up, wipes his mouth, and gives me an erotic, in-command look that perks up my core in anticipation.
“Is it time?” I breathe. I look at that massive cock standing at full attention. Please, let it be condom time.
He answers with a naughty, crooked grin and retrieves the necessary goods from his wallet. As he sheathes himself, his hand running firmly over his hard cock, my heart doesn’t know whether to calm down from the high of the world’s most amazing orgasm or speed up in anticipation of Dallas coming inside me at last.
He doesn’t scoot me up on the bed, and I don’t bother either. He hitches his arms under my knees, stands right there at the foot of the bed, and enters me as I’m spread and exposed.
It’s a pretty tight fit and he stretches me pleasantly, but I’m so slick that he comes right in. “Oh yeah,” I breathe as he pinches his eyes shut, a mixture of pleasure and relief on his face. Because he’s been craving it, too.
This part is just as fast as the other. Not because he’s rushing either one of us, but because we’re speeding down this track together and can’t seem to stop. I’ve never needed anyone like this. No matter how much he gives me, I want more, harder, faster, more, more.
He’s giving it to me rapidly, just like I need it, his hands pressing against my inner thighs spreading me hard. Every time he hits bottom, I’m jolted with a burst of pleasure. A pleasure that’s sharply rising as my body starts climbing again.
His muscular abs and chest flex as he takes command. His eyes are on me the whole time, his face awash with raw desire as mine must be. This is new for me, too. This kind of eye contact in the midst of such shameless lust. It’s making the whole thing so much better, so much more, but it’s almost too much for me to handle.
Then he falls on his elbows and I wrap my legs around his waist and we are a hungry tangle of lips and limbs, moans and thrusts. He’s bringing me high enough that I’m starting to believe he may actually give me that elusive second orgasm.
Usually I can’t get there twice, especially so soon, but all I need is a few more minutes of Dallas’ expert attention. I may cross that peak again before he does.
He reaches down, grabs the base of his cock, and aims for my G-spot like he knew exactly where to find it. Then it’s all over. Even more than when he claimed me with his mouth, I am undone. My head thrashes back and forth, once, twice, then we’re both coming together.
His body is taut in my embrace as he jolts and shudders and I am out of my mind with pleasure.
“Yes,” his deep voice resonates within me. “Rita. Yes.”
And the sound of my name on his lips carries my heart to his.
Turns out, banging around with Dallas Huntington works up the appetite. He ordered in and paid for it online, so when I hear the knock I’m free to jump up and grab it. I’m wearing nothing but my underwear and Dallas’ shirt that goes to my mid-thigh. If the delivery guy wants to judge me for it, I don’t really care.
I grab the bag of Styrofoam containers and hand over the cash to cover the tip. Dallas wanted to pay for everything, but that was the deal.
As I bring it to the dining table near the patio doors, Dallas joins me. Advantage number one of wearing his shirt instead of my dress is it’s more comfortable. Advantage number two is I get to watch Dallas walk around bare chested.
It all works out for everybody.
The spicy scent of enchilada sauce gets my stomach to actually rumble. I’m fine with the distraction. My mind’s spinning a little with everything that’s happening with Dallas. But eating, I can handle.
“Now to see if Boise is worthy of a location change. If they don’t have good Mexican food, I can’t be living here.”
I freeze and our eyes meet in surprise. I can’t believe I just said that.
Now, I dig up dirt for a living and know how to keep my lips sealed. It’s not like me to let something slip that I don’t want out there. But all my usual rules don’t seem to apply with Dallas. I still don’t know why. I just know that they don’t.
“You’re moving here?”
And I surprise myself yet again. For two reasons. One, the thought of coming to Boise while he stays in Swan Pointe is strangely disturbing. And two, Dallas asked me a question I intend answer. Honestly.
