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‘Tomorrow morning, early. At breakfast, plenty of time. Goodnight.’

The problem was her voice was steady, but her heart rate had risen.

Damn the man, attractive bastard. She always avoided being close to him and now he was standing one foot away and with that infuriating magnetic stillness.

‘Don’t be iron filings, Suchen,’ she said to herself. She took a breath and made to close the door. He put out his hand and she looked at him, indignant.

‘What—’ she began.

‘Sorry, orders from chairman. Check your phone.’

She frowned and turned. Her phone was on the bedside table and she looked at it. There was a message. It must have come in whilst she was in the bath. Some problem with the figures, he said. Check it out tonight.

When she turned back, Alex had closed the door, put his laptop on the desk and was looking at her. She suddenly realized she was in silhouette against the lamp and moved away.

He took off his coat and hung it on the back of the chair. He was wearing a white fitted T-shirt and it showed every dip and line of his flat abdomen and the muscles of his tanned arms.

Her mind began to spiral off in unwanted carnal directions. She felt an involuntary spasm between her legs.

Oh, no, no, she thought. No, you don’t. ‘Be right back.’

She grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom. She tied her hair up in a thick elastic ribbon. When her hair was down, silky smooth to her waist, she felt wanton. That would not do at all. She could certainly not sit around working with no clothes on. Sensible cotton bra and panties, plain T-shirt and good solid jeans. These were proof against any man’s charms. She looked at the bottle of champagne in the ice bucket.

A few minutes later she came out. ‘Champagne?’ she said, putting the ice bucket on the coffee table. Alex poured himself a glass and drank.

‘Might be a long, hard night,’ he said, refilling his glass. She raised an eyebrow. She was pretty sure he’d emphasized ‘long’ and ‘hard’. Subtle, she thought. He smiled and finished the glass of champagne.

She opened her laptop and sat at the desk. Alex drew a chair next to hers. They worked on the figures and quickly saw the problem. In no time, they’d straightened it out. He was smart and quick and really a pleasure to work with.

His arm brushed hers.

Her mind began a downward spiral of swirling coloured lights, like the credits of a bad Seventies movie.

Alex’s hand moved behind her. In a swift movement, he pulled the ribbon which bound her hair and it cascaded down her back.

‘Suchen,’ he whispered. ‘You are really beautiful.’

She felt the rising beat of her blood. It was the hair making her wanton, and she searched for the ribbon.

‘What do you think you’re doing,’ she said, and her breath was a gasp.

‘Making love to you,’ he said as he ran his fingers into her hair and held her head and his mouth was suddenly on her neck, his lips soft, soft, kissing her, small kisses up her neck, under her ear. She felt as if she was melting.

When he moved his lips to her cheek and began kissing and nibbling her mouth, she found the willpower to pull away.

‘Stop this, Alex,’ she said thickly.

But he didn’t stop, though she tried weakly to push him away. He took her hand and put it down between his legs. She felt the bulge and she could imagine the very cells of his blood coursing, expanding, engorging.

He took her mouth in his as if it was his right, a kiss of deep softness, and moved her hand on him, growing harder by the second.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he murmured against her mouth.

Futile, was about the last thing she thought. ‘No,’ she breathed. ‘Get naked.’

He stood, taking her with him. She sank to her knees in front of him as if she was at the altar of some erotic god. He took off his belt, slowly, like a damn striptease artist.

She licked her lips, waiting, like a child waits for candy. His pants dropped over his hips to the floor. He had no underwear and her eyes flew open and she took him into her mouth, moving her tongue and lips around and along him, listening to the cues of his moans. She wanted to taste every inch of this hard wonderful thing he owned, the feeling so strong, she began to kiss and lick him in a groaning frenzy.

Then he pulled away gently and leant down and brought her up to him.

‘Too fast,’ he said breathlessly. ‘Wait.’

He took off her T-shirt. She scrambled to get out of her jeans, and by the time he’d taken off her bra, they were both naked. She went to the bed. No subtlety here, she thought dimly. He was hard and beautiful. She felt dripping with wetness, ready for him.

Not yet, the look in his bottomless brown eyes seemed to say. His hair fell over his face as he dropped his mouth to her breasts, leaning over her, the smooth skin of his chest touching her belly, his soft lips on her nipples, moving his tongue until she felt like fire. She clutched him, willing him to come into her, so ready she thought she might ignite. The thought made her smile, even in the midst of these swirling emotions.

‘Alex,’ she said.

‘Not yet.’

He moved down her body, running his fingers into her wetness, then buried his head between her legs. She was not ready for the jolt which shook her as his tongue played with her, and she clutched his hair; don’t stop, don’t stop. The orgasm shook her, wave on wave sending her body into delicious, mind-darkening spasms.

As the light returned dimly, he rose and pushed himself inside her, sliding silky, thickly smooth and her hips rose to him, her body shuddering with absolute, mind-altering desire. She wound her arms around his perfect neck and slipped down the path of ecstasy.

They moved like great dancers, each movement a whispered response the one to the other, until she felt a rush of blood so powerful it pounded in her ears and she clutched him to her, wanting to enter his body, melt into his flesh. The orgasm lifted her hips off the bed and a river of hot liquid ran over him, drenching him in desire. He began to move hard, taking her hips in his arm, his mouth on hers, grinding his lips against hers, needing her flesh, and she clung to him until he came over the edge and fell down the long precipice with a great groan.

She looked at him. He was still slumbering like a baby. She smiled. She put the sleeping pills back in the cabinet, poured the rest of the champagne down the sink and rinsed the bottle. He’d be out all night.

She undressed him and took her lace stretch panties and her garter stockings and put them on him. The fit was very snug, but it just looked even sexier. A little eye shadow, mascara and her red lipstick. This was quite fun.

He was intensely alluring, strangely erotic even, and she let her hand linger, stroking the sexy bulge under the lace. He moved slightly and she reluctantly removed her hand.

She got her phone and took several photos from various angles. She made sure the newspaper with the date was in them, along with the hotel’s logo. She uploaded them to her computer and filed them under ‘Was it Good for You?’ Who could say where they might leak out to?

He was tempting, all the delicious hard beauty of him. Before she cleaned him up, dressed him and called housekeeping to take him back to his room, there was time. She kissed his ruby lips. Then she sat by him, propped up against the pillows, her legs spread, and ran one hand over the muscles of his smooth chest.

Her mind began a downward spiral of swirling coloured lights, like the credits of a bad Seventies movie.

CLUB KOYAANISQUATSI

Miss Izzy, Singapore

“On a diet?” she asked, giving him a lopsided smile that spoke of contempt and a gross fascination with his bulbous shape.