Sensuality (14 page)

“You make me wanna come so bad,” Chris ground out in a shaky voice.

“Then no more of that for you. It’s not time.” I slipped off the edge of the table but left one leg propped on the chair and tugged him toward me by his cock. “First, I punish you,
then
you get to come.”

“Fine, whatever you say.” His eyes at half-mast, the tiniest smile on his face, Chris wrapped his arms around my neck,
as if he’d given himself over completely to whatever pain/ pleasure I might dole out. The sight of his surrender left me weak-kneed and achy.

“Move a little closer,” I whispered, giving another gentle tug.

He did as I instructed and I started a slow rhythmic pumping with one hand. We ended up forehead to forehead, whispering soft lover-talk to each other:
Do you like that…Harder…Can I touch you…Spank me.
A request I was happy to fulfill, smacking one plump muscular cheek while I continued to jack him off. I forced my eyes to stay open, forced myself to breathe, to stay in control despite my own growing need.

We stood there, our breaths mingled, the musky perfume of sex mixed with peaches and cinnamon and brandy. Chris’s long dark eyelashes fanned out under his eyes, his breath came in short huffs as he demanded I go faster, demanded I spank him again. Of course, that’s when I didn’t. Never mind that my pussy had grown slicker and wetter every time my hand connected with his bottom, so wet in fact, the tops of my thighs were damp.

I didn’t change a thing, not the speed of my hand on his cock, nothing, until he reached the point where he was begging. Begging for faster, begging to be spanked. All his earlier playfulness was now long gone.

“Relax,” I instructed as I fought the urge to give him what he wanted. Me.

“I can’t…I wanna come so bad.” His face was tight, his teeth gritted together and his body hummed with tension.

“Not yet, okay. Now relax or it’ll hurt more when I spank you. I don’t want to hurt you,
querido
.”

“I know you don’t, but if I relax, I’ll come,” he insisted.

The hand wrapped around his cock sped up. “Relax,” I hissed. “Breathe, Chris…breathe.” Under my other hand his right cheek muscle softened the tiniest bit and I smacked him again just as I released my grip on him, and he found himself thrusting into air.

“God!” He reared back, every muscle in his body tense as he sucked in a deep breath and fought for control. “Dammit, Fiona!”

“Touch me, lover.” I lightly fondled every inch of his erection with my fingertips. The head of his cock was nearly purple and the shaft swollen to delicious proportions.

His large, gentle hands wandered from my hair to skim the length of my back and caress the soft underside of my breasts, my shoulders, my arms, and my legs spread wide between us. Goose bumps popped up on my skin, and I hummed in pleasure as my nipples puckered even harder.

We kissed, wet, sloppy, breathless kisses until Chris came up for air, nipping at my earlobe and begging to fuck me.

I lay back on the table, closed my eyes, and handed him the reins, smiling as he jerked my bottom to the edge and thrust inside me with a rude grunt of satisfaction. I caught my breath at the sudden sharp invasion, then locked my legs around his waist and met every hard, hungry thrust. He’d definitely been more than worth the wait.

“You’re a…damned…tease…Fiona…” he insisted with each lunge.

“And you love it. Now c’mere.” I held out my arms and reveled in the hot, heavy length of him in me. Then slipped one hand between us. There was no way I could catch up with Chris, who was already beginning to climax, but I fol
lowed quickly, squealing and bucking against him and milking us both for all we were worth.

We lay there the longest time. Until the air-conditioned air cooled the sweat on his back and our heavy breathing had returned to normal.

Chris’s legs shook as he slowly pushed himself up on one elbow. “So what about Tennessee. Did you decide?”

I smiled but before I could answer, the oven timer went off.

She moans beneath him as the rhythm of his hips matches the tempo of the music. Each thrust of his cock into her cunt goes deeper and deeper, like the steady beat of the timbales. Sweat coats his skin and hers, the bed creaks beneath them, a breeze, redolent with the smell of the ocean and of mariposa lily and the intoxicating sounds of the salsa band playing beneath their open window sweeps across their frenzied bodies. His hands grip her wrists, holding her firmly against the mattress, his lips sear her throat, his teeth nip at her skin. She feverishly rubs her breasts against his chest, the black, curly hairs strafing her throbbing nipples.

His moans echo hers and he punctuates them with fiercely whispered words in Spanish that she does not understand but the meaning is as clear as his pelvis grinding against her, his cock pulsating within her, his body possessing hers.

“Pay attention, Gloria.”

Startled out of her daydream by Eduardo’s words, Gloria twisted her ankle as she tried to turn where he was guiding
her. She stumbled and was slipping toward the hardwood floor of the dance studio.

Eduardo quickly grabbed her, his arm snaking around her waist. She looked up at him. His dark eyes glittered with annoyance, his firm, sensual lips twisted with irritation.

“I’m wondering whether you and I are wasting our time.”

She squirmed away from him. “Wasting our time? Haven’t I been coming here every week for the past month?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his black cotton shirt stretching over his broad shoulders and lean, muscular arms. “You do not feel, Gloria. And because you do not feel, I cannot teach you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You take the lessons but you do not
experience
what you are doing. Tell me, why do you want to learn to dance the salsa?”

“What does it matter, why I want to learn?”

“I want to know what is in your heart.”

“My heart? What the hell does my heart have to do with it?”

Eduardo shook his head, as if confronted with a misbehaving child. “There’s no need to curse, Gloria.”

“You call that cursing? Trust me, when I get to cursing, you’ll know.”

“When you asked me to teach you to dance the salsa, I made it quite clear that if you were not serious about it, I would not waste my time teaching you.”

Gloria clenched her hands. “I am serious. Why do you keep saying I’m not?”

He tapped her on her forehead. “You are not here when we dance. Your thoughts are elsewhere.”

No shit,
Gloria thought. Her thoughts were definitely elsewhere. For example, in bed with Eduardo as he thrust with what she imagined was a most delicious cock inside her, at the beach with Eduardo, waves washing over them as they fucked, on a—”

“There you go again. Daydreaming.”

Gloria focused back on Eduardo’s face. The smoldering dark eyes framed by thick black lashes, the classically sculpted face, the sensual lips. Why did he have to be so goddamn gorgeous? And how in hell was she supposed to concentrate on dancing when all she could think about was being naked with him, his long brown limbs wrapped around her, his thick, long cock (and, yes, she had no doubt it was thick and it was long) pumping steadily inside her hot, juicy cunt.

“I’m not daydreaming.”

“This is not going to work,” he said.

“What?”

“I am not going to waste my time teaching you, Gloria.”

“But…I’ve paid you—”

“I will return your money.”

“Why?”

He touched her forehead and then moved his hand, lightly touching her chest. Her nipples tingled. “In your head and in your heart, you are not here. I cannot teach you.”

“You are such a pompous ass,” Gloria blurted out, her sexual frustration finally lashing out as anger.

His eyes widened. “Pompous?”

“Yes, pompous. Why do you have to make such a big deal
out of everything?” She waved her hand at the other instructors who, along with their students, were staring at her and Eduardo. She didn’t care. “They don’t make such a big deal out of it. They’re just having fun.”

“Fun?” Eduardo nodded as if something had been confirmed for him. “If that is what you want, only to have fun, perhaps you’d be better off with one of them.”

“Fine. Maybe I would.”

“I’ll see that your money is returned.”

He walked away and Gloria, despite her disappointment and anger, couldn’t help noticing what a nice ass he had.

Damn him. Well, if that’s the way he wanted it, she would find another instructor. Maria’s wedding was five months away. She still had time to learn to dance the salsa.

“Why didn’t you just tell him you wanted to learn to dance so you don’t make a fool of yourself at your friend’s wedding?”

Gloria, her feet tucked under her as she sat on the couch, shifted her cell phone to her other ear.

“Because it isn’t any of his business,” she told her friend, LaShonda. “I paid him to teach me, not to find out what is in my head or in my heart. What does that have to do with teaching me how to dance?”

“Girl, you are such a fool. The man asked you a simple question and you had to turn it into World War III.”

“And I didn’t like the way he was teaching me,” Gloria went on. “He was too hard.”

She bit her lip at the irony of her statement. That was the problem. He hadn’t been hard enough.

“But he was fine, right?”

“He was all right.”

LaShonda laughed. “Ain’t what I heard. I heard he’s more than all right. I heard he’s one fine piece of Latin love. Sexy, dark eyes. Nice, tight butt. And he dances like he could make a woman come until her throat is raw from screaming.”

Gloria’s cunt tingled at LaShonda’s words. It was true. All of it. But it didn’t matter. She was never going to see him again. But, damn it, she also couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“You should apologize.” LaShonda’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“Why?”

“Because the person at fault is usually the one who apologizes,” LaShonda said dryly.

“I’m not at fault.”

“Yes, girlfriend, you are. You’re at fault because it’s obvious you’ve wanted to screw that man since day one. But you’re too scared or prudish or stupid to tell him.”

“LaShonda,” Gloria said, her voice rising.

“So, either you apologize, finish your lessons so you don’t look stupid at your friend’s wedding, and then ask him out, or you sit there and masturbate. ’Cause, girl, you got it bad. Real bad.”

LaShonda said good night and hung up. Gloria put the cell phone down. It was uncanny how LaShonda knew her so well. But this time it didn’t matter what her friend said. There was no way Gloria was going to apologize to Eduardo. He’d made it quite clear how he felt about her. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself by apologizing to him. Because if there was anything Gloria hated, it was making a fool of herself.

But, Lord, he was so fine. Even now she found herself fantasizing about him.

His mouth moving slowly across her cunt, his lips rubbing against the wet lips of her labia, his tongue seeking her searing core, licking slowly at the wetness seeping out of her, the tip rasping against her clit.

Gloria shivered. She shoved her hand down her sweatpants and underneath her panties. Her finger slipped across her cunt the way she imagined Eduardo’s mouth would. She moved her finger inside her and imagined it was his long, agile tongue, invading her, tasting her, ravishing her.

She threw her head back against the couch, her thighs slackening, her legs opening wider as she stroked faster. She imagined Eduardo’s dark head moving between her thighs, his mouth engulfing her sex, his tongue lapping hungrily at her.

She bucked her hips, her finger moving wetly in and out, twisting and rubbing against the sensitive inner walls. She massaged her juices over her clit, slowly circling.

“Yes, lick my pussy, lick it,” she whispered.

She moaned as she fell deeper into her fantasy. She spread her legs wider, her finger moving quickly as she imagined Eduardo’s long, wet tongue licking and probing her cunt. She tossed her head back and forth, her pelvis humping as she stroked and rubbed her swollen clit.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” she moaned. “Oh, God.” Her fingers flew over her clit, her body shuddering, her hips quivering.

The phone rang. Gloria gasped, her orgasm just on the edge of peaking. Then she realized it wasn’t her cell phone. It was the house phone. The only person who typically called her on the house phone was her mother. She jumped up and ran for it, picking it up on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Gloria?”

She nearly dropped the phone. Eduardo’s sexy voice flowed into her ear like honey.

“Yes?”

There was silence for a moment on his end. “It is Wednesday night,” he finally said.

“So?”

“You are not here for your lesson.”

“Excuse me? Didn’t you tell me not to come back?”

“No, you said you were going to find another instructor. But you have not. I checked and you have not contracted with any of them.”

It was true, Gloria had not found another instructor but only because she hadn’t had the time to look for one. “Maybe I’m taking lessons at another studio.”

“You are not.”

“And just how the hell would you know that?”

“Why do you curse so much, Gloria?”

“This is not cursing. When I really start cursing—”

“Are you coming or not?”

Gloria’s lips twisted. I was coming, she thought, until you interrupted me. “No, I’m not. You’re right, Eduardo. It wasn’t working. We’re obviously not compatible.”

And she definitely wasn’t going to risk getting hurt by him. Just stay away from him. That was the best course of action.

“Gloria—”

“Good-bye, Eduardo.”

She hung up the phone and released a deep breath. She thought about resuming her masturbating but realized she
was no longer interested. Damn him. She wanted him, not her fingers.

The phone on her desk at work rang. Gloria contemplated not answering it. She was already days behind on her report. But, as she glanced at the display, she recognized the phone number. A smile broke across her face.

She picked up the phone. “Hey, girl!”

“Gloria!” María’s voice blared from the receiver. “How you doing,
chica
?”

“Okay.”

“Bad day?”

Gloria’s lips quirked. “What else is new?”

“How many times have I told you to get out of that white man’s rat race and come help me with my catering business?”

“You know I don’t like humid weather.”

“That’s the only way weather should be,
chica
. And it’s what you need. Lots of sun, warm beaches, and hot men.”

Gloria shook her head. The sun and beaches sounded great but the last thing she needed was another hot man upsetting her equilibrium.

“So, how are the dance lessons coming?”

Gloria blinked. She had forgotten she had told María about the lessons.

“Umm, okay.”

“Just okay?”

Gloria made a sound she hoped sounded encouraging.

“I can’t wait,” María said. “My brothers are already drawing straws as to who is going to dance with you first.”

María cheerfully went on giving Gloria the latest details about the wedding but she barely heard her friend. She’d tried to find another dance instructor, but either they were all booked up or they’d clearly been unqualified or they wouldn’t stop staring at her breasts.

“Gloria, did you hear me?”

“What?” She quickly brought her attention back to María. “Umm, yeah, I heard.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you at work.”

“That’s okay. But I should get back to work. I’m so glad you called and I can’t wait until August.”

“Me neither,
chica
.”

They exchanged good-byes and Gloria hung up the phone. She stared at the walls of her office. What was she going to do? The wedding was in three months. She wanted to at least learn enough Latin dancing so she wouldn’t look like a complete idiot at the wedding. Eduardo had been an excellent teacher. If anyone could get her ready for the wedding in time, it was him.

She chewed her bottom lip as she stared at the phone. For all she knew he was completely booked up. Or he would resent her for having quit and refuse to take her back as his student. Or a meteor could smash into the earth and solve all her problems.

She sighed, picked up the phone, and dialed the number for the dance studio Eduardo taught at.

“In Motion Dance Studio.”

Gloria frowned. The receptionist sounded like her mouth was full of food.

“May I speak to Eduardo Reyes?”

“Who?”

Oh, good Lord,
Gloria thought,
where did they find these people?

“Eduardo. He’s an instructor there.”

“Hold on.”

Gloria drummed her manicured nails on the desk. Then she noted that one of her nails was chipped. Before she could make a mental note to have it fixed, the receptionist was back on the line.

“He’s not here.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

Gloria gritted her teeth. “Do you know how I can contact him?”

“No.”

“Will he be in later?”

“I don’t know.” The woman’s voice grew flatter with each response.

Yeah, screw you, too,
Gloria thought. “Well, if he does come in, could you please tell him that Gloria Berner called?”

The woman hung up without replying. Gloria stared at the phone. The nerve of some people.

She glanced at a postcard she’d thumbtacked to the wall. María had sent it to her as part of her campaign to convince Gloria to move to Florida. White sands and an ocean as blue as the sky. She cupped her chin in her hand and sighed.

Eduardo is wearing swimming trunks and she a bikini. He walks next to her, his hand holding hers. He pulls her across the sand until the two of them are running. Up ahead is a grove of palm trees. They run in among them. He presses her against a tree trunk and puts his hand on her breasts, his fingers squeezing her nipples. She gasps, her
sex moistening. He pulls the bikini top down, exposing her breasts. He lowers his head and wraps his mouth around one of them, licking steadily at her nipple.