Sara Stone - Command Performance

The food arrived and the conversation flowed. They talked about travel and vacations, but never work or home life. She told him how she’d fallen in love with Italy when she was seventeen and visiting on a school trip. He told her about his favorite Greek island, Antiparos. They talked until she’d devoured half the salad (he ignored the other half), a third of a meat-filled lasagna (he ate the rest) and a bit of the vegetarian penne.

He barely touched the wine he’d ordered, sticking mostly to water, she noted, before pushing the thought from her mind. Now was not the time or place to study his behavior or compare him to her father. Tonight was for pleasure, and so far, the evening had exceeded her expectations. Sipping her own glass of white wine, Maggie thought, This is the best date of my life. And it’s not even a real date.

* * *

BESIDE HIM ON the bed, Maggie leaned back against a mountain of pillows. Forget Greece, he had his very own goddess right here. Her loose curls rested on the plush robe. Take it off, he thought. I want to touch you again.

He drained the last of his water and set the glass on the room service table while Maggie described her dream vacation: Paris. He’d only met her a few hours earlier, and in reality he knew very little about her, but he still felt closer to her than he had to most of the women he’d dated in the past few years. And he wondered if it was because she didn’t try so hard. She wasn’t here to find forever or to prove they were a good fit. She was just here because she wanted sex. If the erection under his robe was any indication, it was about time for another round. But first, she’d promised him a massage.

Hunter rolled his shoulder. Sex mingled with half a glass of wine had dulled the ache, but it was still there. “About that massage, you still game?”

“Oh, yes.” She sat up, transforming instantly from relaxed beauty to take-charge woman. Little Miss Maggie reminded him of a Rubik’s Cube, her colors constantly changing. One minute her yellow, innocent side shone bright, then a row moved, adding a touch of brazen red. And when she came, hands slapping the bedding? That’s when all the colors mixed together.

Hunter shrugged out of his robe and flopped down on his stomach, turning his head to the side to watch Maggie. She set her wine on the night table and crawled across the bed. “I don’t think you can give a proper massage with your robe on.”

“Is that an order?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, ma’am.” The side of his mouth hitched upward. “If that’s what it takes to get you naked.”

Maggie laughed as she loosened the fabric belt at her waist and unwrapped her lush curves. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her full, perky breasts, enjoying the slight rise and fall with each breath she took. But when she shifted to straddle his lower back, he wasn’t left with a choice. Her hands touched his aching shoulder, gently, yet exerting just enough pressure to push away the pain. The rest of the world slipped out of reach, leaving behind Maggie’s hands, her heat grazing his lower back. When he died, if Hunter could have his pick of heavens, he’d return to this moment.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes into the massage, the brazen Miss Maggie replaced her hands with her lips. Kissing and licking, she made her way down the center of his back, shimmying her wet core over his ass as she moved lower and lower....

He moaned.

“Roll over,” she whispered against his skin. “Please.”

Not caring who was in charge anymore, he obeyed, wondering if he would come the moment she touched him. Definite possibility. He opened his eyes and watched as she knelt beside him. Meeting his gaze as if she wanted permission, she asked, “May I?”

“Hell, yes.”

Her tongue licked the length of his shaft and his hips lifted up, demanding more. She gave it to him, wrapping her mouth around him. Her tongue swirled up and down, and Hunter dug his hands into the sheets. He swallowed a whimper when her lips rose to the tip. Then she wrapped her hand around one of his and lowered her mouth again. He closed his eyes and prayed the sensation would never end.

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