Risqué Page 8

  “Yeah, I uhh . . . kind of had somewhere . . .”

  “To be, right?” Zane stated completing her sentence. “And where was that?” he asked, knowing that she was nervous. Also knowing that her ego wouldn’t allow the true vulnerability to show.

  “Home.”

  “Oh, was somebody there waiting for you?”

  “Why all the questions?” she asked running a hand up and down the length of her arm. Then she smiled for the first time since he had approached. “Look, I’m embarrassed enough without you trying to make it worse.”

  “I’m Zane, by the way,” he said, realizing that he had never told her his name. He knew hers already, but wasn’t going to tell her that. So, he waited to see if she would offer an official introduction of her own.

  “Zane,” she repeated. “I’m Giselle,” she offered. “It’s nice to . . .” Her words trailed; her eyes lowered from his. He knew why.

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Giselle. Officially, that is.” He looked around the surrounding area. “You here with anybody tonight?”

  “I’m not. Came by myself,” she offered. She turned toward the Bellagio and pointed. “I’m staying up there for a few days.”

  “Now, you wanna hear true irony?” he asked.

  “Sure . . .”

  “Just so happens, so am I.”

  -20-

  Dark blue True Religion jeans. White Nike shirt with a black swoosh logo. Black tennis shoes. The man was damned attractive. I wondered how old he was. If I had to guess, I would say late 30’s, but men aged differently, so he might have even been in his mid-30’s. Shit, I hope not. Way too close to Skai’s age. But damn, he looked good! It wouldn’t be a compliment that I offered up, but he was definitely eye candy. That’s too much ego, Giselle! What would be so wrong about telling the man that he looks good? It was on the tip of my lips; I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  Perhaps it was some kind of weird inner conflict. Before meeting this man, having a conversation with him, and then having sex with him, the only men of his ‘kind’ I had ever found attractive were Ian Somerhalder, and the guy from Avatar. Oh, and Bruce Jenner’s fine-ass son, Brody. That was it. Until this new person, Zane. Zane with the nice blonde hair, goatee, and runner’s body.

  “All this space to yourself, huh?” he asked me upon entering my suite.

  How it was that we ended up back in my suite, I didn’t quite know. I just figured he was harmless. And he didn’t make fun of me for running off like the Roadrunner trying to get away from Coyote. He had pluses working in his favor. And his company wasn’t so bad. So, after we had talked for almost an hour in front of the water show, I was the one that invited him up. I was shocked when the words, “Would you like to come up to my room to talk?” came out of my mouth, but here we were.

  “Yep,” I boasted, in response to his question. “All this space to myself.”

  And then out of nowhere, catching me off guard, came, “So, what really made you run away, Giselle?”

  He snuck the question out so smooth and so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to come with a response. I hadn’t rehearsed anything because I honestly didn’t think it would come up, once we had moved the conversation to a different location. I felt that all the talking we had previously done, had served to push that out of the way. How wrong I was.

  I padded over to the wet bar, then over to the window where I slid the curtains all the way open so that I could see the full view. “I really don’t want to have that conversation,” I announced over my shoulder.

  “But why? It’s simple enough. You don’t think you owe—”

  “I don’t owe you anything, Zane,” I spat, defensively, before taking a seat on the chaise where I had a front row seat to the fountains. Soon he was sharing my seating space, but turned toward me, waiting. So, I gave it to him. “We did what we did and then I . . . I had to go.”

  “We did what we did.” His eyes pierced deep into mine. He wanted answers. “And what was that, Giselle?” he challenged.

  I didn’t know how to answer this man. I didn’t know why he was bringing up the past—however recent it was. We weren’t a couple. It wasn’t like I ran away from an argument or a piece of some relationship. I left after we had sex. What was the big deal?!

  I knew right then that inviting him here was a bad idea. A real mistake.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked, hunching my shoulders. “What do you want me to say?”

  I abandoned the seat, then walked to the balcony where I opened the doors. I needed air.

  Soon he was standing near me, towering. “I want you to say why. That’s all I want. Nothing more and nothing less. I thought we were in the middle of something great. It felt good to me. I know it felt good to you. You wouldn’t have given me the access you did if it didn’t. It’s only natural that I’d want answers.”

  “And the natural thing for me, is to want to forget it.”

  “What parts of it?” he shot, not letting up.

  “All of it. I had no business there. In that setting. With that . . . behavior. I just didn’t. I don’t even know what got into me. I don’t even know how I ended up there at a place like that. I just . . . I just don’t . . .” I didn’t know how to complete the rest of what I needed to say. “It wasn’t me,” I concluded, turning my back to him and focusing on the last moments of the water show playing outside.

  “It wasn’t you . . . because you were with a white guy?” he deduced. “Is that what you mean?”

  “Damnit, Zane! No, that’s not it!” I shouted in frustration. “Sorry. Not to yell, but you’re pushing an issue that—”

  “Why can’t you admit that your issue, your hang up, is that you had sex with—”

  “Okay, that’s enough. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing at all, Giselle. I’m just trying to understand. Understand why a grown woman of free will, in charge of her own sexuality, to do with as she pleases . . . would behave like a young—”

  “Okay. I’m done,” I said storming past him and toward the front door. “It’s time for you to leave,” I spat.

  “That’s fine,” he said on my heel. “Avoidance is your way of handling the hard shit. That’s what it is.”

  “It’s not hard,” I insisted, standing in the walkway waiting for him to reach me before opening the door. “You just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  When he was seconds away, I turned the handle, but Zane put his hand over mine, preventing me from completely opening the door. “I don’t know what I’m talking about?” he asked.

  “No, you don’t,” I replied looking him dead in the eyes.

  “Prove it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Prove it. If what I’m saying is a lie, that me being white, has nothing to do with anything . . . prove it.”

  His hand was still on mine, and he had moved closer. His cologne danced around my nostrils, the heat forming in between us, closing me in. Another step, and he would be pressed against me. With a wall behind me, there was nowhere for me to move. I was stuck. Trapped.

  My breaths came short and labored when I responded to him. “I . . . I don’t . . .”

  Before I could finish a complete statement, he had his finger under my chin and bringing his lips toward mine. Not a single part of me wanted to stop what was happening. I don’t even know if I really ever wanted him to leave. Just wanted him to stop probing in a place that had jumbled answers, with nothing of substance to offer.

  For a few minutes, I did basic reciprocation, but the more his body moved against mine, the more aroused I became. The next thing I knew, I had let go of the door’s handle, and my arms were snaked around his neck, and we were tearing at each other. All precaution slid through the cracks of the door and left that suite. There was nothing left but passion, and it was ready to be explored.

  Being pinned to the wall gave me the excuse I needed to fully surrender. I mean, where
would I go? I was between a rock and a hard place—literally. The pressure of his manhood pressing against a place that it was no stranger to, was taking full control of my actions. Actions that caused me to push against him so that I could have the room to slide the arms of my jumpsuit off my shoulders.

  “Sexy as hell,” he uttered as my garment left my body and slid to the floor. “So fucking sexy.”

  His words of admiration sent chills up my spine, and through to my echoing woman parts.

  “You’re sexy as hell yourself,” I said to him, freeing him from his jeans, then pulling his shirt over his head.

  I was preparing to step out of the small pile of material beneath my feet, but just like before, Zane lifted me off my feet and carried me.

  We kissed so heavily, I didn’t know if we would find our way without running into a wall or two. But it was smooth travels as we made our way to the back. My legs wrapped around the sides of his waist, and feeling his flesh erect beneath mine knowing that we could fall victim to an irresponsible act, both alarmed and excited me.

  When he deposited me onto the softness of the bed, I released a heavy sigh. I looked up at him. Then down at him, and my bud began pulsating beneath her hood. His erection was beautiful and quite the sight. I already knew what kind of beautiful damage it could do, so I was wet and ready.

  But wait.

  I can’t. I had no protection.

  He had no protection.

  But in one fell swoop, my ankles were secured between the palms of his hands, and his face had disappeared between . . . my . . . fuuuuck . . .

  My pussy was in his mouth. He nibbled, he sucked and he licked, then he blew a warm shield over my wetness. Then opened me up more so that the gentle breeze could reach a further destination. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.

  He felt good. His mouth felt amazing.

  My hands found their way to the longest part of his hair. There, I held on for dear life while my pelvis thrust forward in a desperate frenzy. I couldn’t control it. My hips, my clit, my folds were all on a mission of their own.

  “Zaaanne,” I cried as the shockwaves rippled through my core. “Ohhh . . . Ohhh!”

  “Mmmm . . .” I heard him humming. The vibration that it brought with it, drove me insane. It was phenomenal. Then came the slurping noises, where I envisioned his tongue slip sliding across, hydrating on the juices of my nectar.

  “Aaahh!” I groaned loudly. “Uh-uh-uhhh!”

  They were pleasure sounds coming from the pit of my sex, and pushing out through my mouth. There were tiny stars . . . a lot of them . . . dancing around in the darkness behind my lids, and that had my mouth wide open. His mouth wasn’t the only weapon he used to assault my womanhood. His hands were there, his nose was there. I felt it all. When his thumb entered me, then curled into my G-spot, it was nothing short of an ambush.

  The orgasm shook me so hard I was sure that my entire ass lifted from the bed. It was that potent.

  -21-

  Zane locked his lips around her clit, her powerful orgasm signaling her approval. He knew when that small bud began swelling, expanding beneath his tongue the inevitable was quickly approaching. She displayed no signs of running this time, judging by the tight grip she had on both his hair and his shoulder. Her breathing was rapid, her cries were unpredictable going between soft and hungry. He loved every minute of her reaction to him. He felt vindicated. Almost…

  As she struggled through labored breaths, Zane left her side momentarily. He figured she could use the time while he made a trip to the living area of the suite. It’s where his jeans were. Where the protection was.

  “Hey, where you going?” she asked softly as he retreated.

  “Just have to grab something from the front. I’ll be right back…”

  Seconds later, as promised, he was back. He was sheathed and he was inside her—once again.

  Their bodies moved in sync as they made full use of the king-sized area they had to work with. Missionary was the starting position. However, before long, quick maneuvering had Giselle riding him reverse cowgirl. While she held onto his ankles and bounced up and down on his erection, he spread her ass cheeks for a deeper view of his newest obsession.

  Fuck, I wanna violate her! he thought, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He bit down on his bottom lip as he plowed into her. That tight hole was staring at him, calling to him. But as badly as he wanted to send digits in to give her a little extra, he refrained. He was aware that most women considered that a sacred hole. Swearing off never having it penetrated. So, out of respect, he just let the thought serve as further incentive for his dick to proceed in its steel-like state.

  They fucked long and hard, moaning their mutual appreciation as the session reached its climactic conclusion. Zane was satisfied. That first night she felt good. Tonight, she felt even better. She was something he could get used to, for sure . . .

  A while later, Zane emerged from the bathroom. When he did, he noticed that Giselle was looking to the ceiling. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed, and was lying in the same position he had left her in when he went to dispose of the used condoms. Her body was amazing, even in the semi-dark he could make out the fine details that were her shape.

  “How are you?” he asked a relaxed Giselle, who looked at him with a faraway look in her eyes. She had a look that brought back memories of when he used to smoke weed in college.

  “I’m good,” she responded. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks to you. And umm, I’ll go so far as to say . . . I think I’m addicted.”

  She released a soft giggle. “Addicted?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, anytime you need a fix, just holler,” she laughed.

  “Don’t say what you don’t mean. I might be hollering like a wounded dog at different parts of every day. So, you may wanna rethink or rephrase that.”

  “Nope. I mean it,” she said showing that pretty smile of hers.

  “That’s sounds good as hell to me. So, question . . . you kickin’ me out or is it okay to stay a little longer?” He smiled when he asked that question.

  Giselle pat the empty space next to her on the bed. “Please stay a little longer,” she said. Zane quickly slid back in bed next to her, and pulled her to him. “Oh, he’s a cuddler,” she cooed. “I think I like that,” she said getting comfortable.

  He stroked her hair, then placed a quick peck at the top of her head. “Yep, he cuddles. How could I not? It would be downright rude and disrespectful for me to do anything other than that after all we just experienced together.”

  “Agreed,” she giggled. “I hope your friend doesn’t put out an APB for you, though.”

  “He won’t. Trust me, that dude is good. Probably doesn’t even know I’m gone. He was pretty busy when I left him.”

  “Ohhh, I see. He sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “You could say that.”

  Suddenly, an eerie silence fell over the room. Nothing but the sound of the two breathing, could be heard. Zane didn’t know what Giselle was thinking, but for his part, he was wishing like hell he had more condoms, because the longer he held her, the more he began wanting to make love to her again. It was clear to him that she was going to be an appetite pleaser. Whether that was a good thing, he didn’t know.

  “So, what’s next?” he heard her ask, breaking the quiet streak.

  “What’s next as far as?” he posed, knowing full well what she meant, but wanting her to say it. He was smiling, but she couldn’t see it.

  “I don’t know. I’ll leave that up to you. I’m just glad that you’re interested in what’s next. I wasn’t sure—”

  “I know. I wasn’t either.” She lifted her head from his chest and propped up on one elbow so that she could look at him. “You were right earlier about the fact that you were white and that it was what was dictating how I felt. But how stupid would it be of me to be operating off of those feelings when we had already crossed a brid
ge?” She shrugged. “I have to be better about opening myself up. My background with men is sorta unique.”

  Zane smiled broadly, stroking the side of Giselle’s face with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Giselle. And for the record, I don’t think you have anything to improve upon as far as opening yourself up. You’ve mastered that.”

  Giselle’s mouth flew open before she began to laugh uncontrollably. “I can’t believe you!” she blushed.

  “What? It’s true,” Zane said, laughing alongside her. “I enjoyed you opening your—”

  “Okay, that’s it!” she shrieked, moving to cover his mouth from saying anything else. “You’re officially muted.” He laughed against her hand, then held up his hands in surrender. “You promise you’re not going there with the commentary?”

  Zane nodded his response, still smiling. Giselle removed her hand from his mouth. “I promise,” he said.

  “Jesus,” she said rolling over on her back and laughing heartily.

  “No need to bring Jesus into this. Especially after what we just—”

  “Zaaane!” Giselle hissed out.

  “I know, I know,” he said unable to keep a straight face. “I’ll stop. I’ll just answer the question you asked about what’s next.” Now, it was him that leaned up on his elbow, to look down at her. “I say that we go on a few dates, get to know each other on a deeper level.”

  “I think that sounds like the perfect idea.”

  “Good. I think as long as we go somewhere that has no water, we should be able to make it through conversation without—”

  “See! Breaking promises already!” Giselle scolded.

  Together they fell into more hilarity, and before they knew it the sun was coming up.

  Amusement of course, turned to quiet time, where once again, the shared desire arose. Knowing that they faced limitations, Zane decided to close off their time together with a feast from his new favorite menu…