“Yeah,” I nearly groan into the receiver. Yeah, it’s a hassle to keep the lid on stories this public, but the fact that it’s happening to Allison… shit. Shit shit shit.
“How do you want to proceed?” Heidi asks.
Under normal circumstances, a story like this would blow away in the wind as soon as a Kardashian sneezed, but the Carrs are prime real estate for gossip rags. And with a bastard like Evan dipping his dick into a different chick every other week, they feed the press like a smut news soup kitchen.
“Contact his PR, but stay mum. We don’t want the media to smell blood and we damn sure don’t want Allison getting hurt in this.”
“Allison?” I can hear the amusement in Heidi’s question. She’s as sharp as a tack and knows I never refer to clients so casually. She’s a shark, just like me. And sharks don’t get comfortable. They don’t slip up.
“Mrs. Carr. You know who the fuck I mean,” I reply sternly. I’m still a shark. Regardless of how guppy-fied Allison makes me feel, I’m a shark, goddammit.
“Fine. You know this wouldn’t be an issue if you would just listen to me sometimes. How many times have I told you-”
I press End.
I don’t need this right now. Allison doesn’t need this right now. And the fact that I’m aware of the demise of her marriage while she’s been hanging out, eating ice cream with me, makes me feel kinda guilty. Yet, not guilty enough to want to stop.
I dress for the day and head to the main house, more determined than ever to make this right for her. To make her into the picture of erotic perfection, so she will never have to face this kind of pain and humiliation again.
To transform her into the whore that Evan wants.
It’s not fair to her– hell, it’s not fair to me– but he won’t stop. He’ll never change his philandering ways. It’s all he knows, all he’s ever seen. And Allison, as smart and funny and fucking amazing as she is, will never leave him.
Welcome to the realgame of Life, where we’re all players, but no one ever truly wins.
The moment Allison enters the room and walks to her seat, I’m moving towards her. I grasp her shoulders and pull her into me, causing her to gasp with surprise. Those wide, sparkling eyes search my face for a motive for my sudden erratic behavior. I look back at her, searching for the same thing.
“Ally…” I swallow, suddenly nervous to utter the next words. Not because they’re any more shocking than what I’ve said in the past. But because they’re probably the truest, realest thing I’ll ever let myself admit. “Ally, I need to touch you. And I need you to touch me too.”
She doesn’t answer, but her body, so soft and breakable in my firm grip, quivers with compliance. I let my hands slide from her shoulders and down to her hands, where I lace my fingers with hers. Then I pull her to the front of the room without breaking my penetrating gaze. She doesn’t resist me. Her feet move one in front of the other, matching my footfalls in a synchronized dance. She wants this. And maybe, on some level, she wants me.
My voice is loud and clear, but I speak only to her. “The act of love making, of sex, is a feast for the senses. It isn’t about just feeling, it’s about seeing your lover writhing in ecstasy. Hearing her moan your name. Smelling their rich, musky arousal.” I lick my lips in anticipation of my next words. “Tasting her on your tongue.”
Allison’s lips part, but no sound escapes. Her eyes linger on my mouth for just a beat, then flicker down to our locked hands. I’m hyperaware of what she and everyone else sees, and I force myself to pull away. I turn her body to face the class.
“I’m going to show you how to feel your partner with your whole self. To explore the power of sensation and drive them wild before you even open your legs,” I announce, my voice raw and almost choked with self-inflicted torment. “Pair up; it’s time you got to know your housemates a little better.”
I brush Allison’s scarlet hair to one side and lean down to place my lips at her ear. “You’re with me, sweetheart.”
SOFT, SENSUAL MUSIC plays in the background. Every light is dimmed to a muted glow. And the women...blindfolded. Everyone is, aside from me.
“Start at the nape of her neck, slide just the very tips of your fingers to her shoulders. Yeah, that’s right. Just like that, ladies. Now take turns trailing them up and down her arms to the inside of her palms. Slowly. Go slow. Remember: it’s about the journey. Good. Now slowly move your fingertips to the top of her chest. Slide them down to the sides of her breasts. Yeah, right there.”
They do as they’re told, relying only on the sound of my voice and their other heightened senses to guide them. I hear them pant and gasp at the newfound sensation as the ladies explore each other’s bodies, but I can only see the one in front of me. The one that captured my attention the moment she walked into my life and set fire to my desert oasis.
My fingers stroke the bare skin at the hollow of her throat before sliding down to the tops of her breasts. I want to touch her so badly. I ache to let my hands keep going down this slippery slope to the hard, pebbled nipples that strain against her green silk blouse. She sucks in a breath, causing her chest to rise, and I swear she extends her breasts to me, aching for the same.
“Lean in, ladies. Let her scent surround you. Don’t be afraid to use all your senses. Tell her how good she feels in your hands. How sexy you feel touching her.”
They all comply. I knew they would. We’re going into Week 3, and the women are dying for physical contact. See, believe it or not, women are the more sexually uninhibited gender. While men are more vocal about their desires and get hard if a strong breeze whips through their legs, women can be aroused by almost anything. Gay porn, dirty talk, a gentle caress, a simple smolder…it all works to get them hot. As long as a woman is mentally open, so are her legs. But that’s a different lesson entirely. To teach all the ways to attract and seduce a woman would take longer than 6 weeks. Hell, I’d need 6 months.
“Do you feel that? The way her heartbeat stutters when you graze her breasts? How humid her skin grows when you rake your fingers across it? That’s arousal. She’s hot for you. Congratulations. You’ve made a straight, married woman yearn for your touch.”
I’m not ignorant to the fact that I’m just reciting Allison’s reactions to me.There’s so much more I could do to her, so many more ways I want to feel her squirm in my capable hands. I want to get closer, but I won’t. And with my dick, hard and throbbing, begging to break free, I can’t. So for now, I’ll take this. It may be the only chance I get.
I step forward an inch so that our bodies just barely touch, our heat creating an undeniable friction that seizes our skin with electricity. Then I take her trembling hands and place them on my chest, stifling a groan.
“Your turn, Ally,” I whisper only for her ears. “Touch me.”
She sucks in a breath and bites her quivering lip. “How?”
My voice is low and raspy, wavering with my restraint. “Just like I touched you. Exactly how you want to be touched.”
I watch as she takes a few breaths to steel her nerves. Then slowly, torturously, as if she wants to strip away every bit of self-control I have, she slides her delicate hands up to my shoulders, kneading the hard muscle sheathed in a white linen shirt. It’s amazing how she can make such an innocent touch feel so dirty and sexual. It feels like she’s undressing me, exposing me. Corrupting me.
“More,” I rasp. My breath comes out in ragged pants, and my skin is on fire. Allison moves her hands down my arms until her fingers stroke the inside of my palms. Then she’s touching my waist, my stomach. Her nails rake over the hard ridges of my abs, taking the time to feel each and every mound of muscle. I hold my breath, afraid that she’ll continue her journey down south. I’m not ashamed of my body’s reaction to hers, but I know nothing good will come of her feeling my hardness in her hands. And chances are, she wouldn’t even know what to do with it.