Tease Me, page 12
We arrived at Kamoto’s Karate dojo twenty minutes later and dashed through the rain to the front door. In the reception area, as I slipped into my Gi, Master Kamoto admonished us for not coming every week.
We waited out his speech in silence. It was a ritual we went through every once in a while, and after a brief discussion, he once again seemed to give up on converting us, turned his back, and walked away.
Lolly and I weren’t perturbed; we did karate purely for self-defense, not to win any competitions. I was happy with my green belt status, and I was sure Lolita was happy with her purple belt, two levels above me.
Odors of pine and disinfectant invaded my nostrils as we entered the large room surrounded by floor-to-ceiling mirrors. About twenty or so men were already in there, and Lolita and I found our own space at the back of the room, dropped our bags, and started with a warm-up.
After a series of stretches, Lolita led the routine, and we launched into a punishing workout of punches, kicks, strikes, blocks, and stances.
Lolly paused after she’d just kicked the crap out of a body bag I was holding, and when her eyes bulged, I braced for the announcement I knew was coming. “Okay, I have a plan.” Damn, she was loud.
Everyone in the room turned to us.
“What?” I whispered as I chuckled at her outburst.
“Come on.” She plucked our bags from the corner, then grabbed my arm, and I apologized to nearly everyone as she dragged me through the crowd and led me outside. The rain was easing, and a flock of rainbow lorikeets struck up a chorus as Lolita indicated that I should sit on the bench seat at the front of the dojo.
She stood, rubbing her hands together. “Alexander is a cocky asshole, right?”
“Understatement, but yes.”
“He probably thinks he’s done nothing wrong.”
“Well, obviously, my parents think that.”
“True. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go to your father’s birthday.”
I rolled my head back. “Oh, Lolly, I don’t know if—”
“Shhh, hear me out.”
I cocked my head at her bossiness.
“You are going to that party, and you’re going to look so fucking hot they’ll hardly recognize you. That bastard is going to regret ever cheating on you.”
“I don’t think he knows what regret is.”
“He will when he sees the sexy, confident woman you are now.”
It had been more than three and a half years since I’d left Mildura, and Lolly was right; I had changed. For the better, too. But could I confront Alexander? Just the thought of seeing him again had an inferno of anger flooding through me.
She jiggled from foot to foot. “Oh my god, this is so exciting. We need to go shopping and buy you the sexiest fucking dress ever. His eyes will pop right out of his head.”
I couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm.
“Oooh, and you know what? If you get close enough to that bastard, you can knee him in the balls, too. You’re getting good at that.”
We both roared with laughter, and as I pictured doing exactly that, her phone pinged, and she tugged it from her bag. “Shit, Cal says Savannah’s been throwing up. Sorry, babe, I’ll have to take you home.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.” We started toward her car.
“Don’t be sorry. You know you can call me anytime.”
“Thanks, Lolly. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Pfft. Stop it—this’s what girlfriends do.”
As I buckled up, I thought about the friends I’d had before I moved here and met Lolita. Chelsea-Lea had been my best friend, and she’d turned out to be the biggest back-stabbing bitch ever. “Not all girlfriends.”
She shot me a glance. “Oh yeah. When you see that slut, slap her across the face from me.”
As I laughed aloud, I wondered if Chelsea-Lea had given birth yet, and then I wondered who the father was. Suddenly, the idea of going back to Mildura was appealing. Maybe it was time I went home and showed them just who Jane Nichols was.
Lolita drove into the drop-off zone at the Hot Horizon Hotel. We said our goodbyes, and I made my way to my room. After a quick shower, I crawled into bed, and as I tried to predict how my next encounter with Alexander would play out, I drifted off to sleep.
Seven hours later, I woke feeling completely refreshed. I’d had a surprisingly great sleep, considering the morning I’d had. I jumped into the shower and washed my hair. After a quick blow-dry, I made a simple meal of grilled salmon and a salad that I tossed out of a packet.
With a sneaky glass of wine and my wholesome meal in hand, I moved out to the balcony. The rain had stopped, and the setting sun cast an interesting sepia color over the ocean. People were out in droves on the beach again, enjoying the mild breeze and the final gasps of sunshine. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, and I finished my meal in about two minutes flat.
As I sat back and sipped my wine, I considered Lolly’s idea. With each mouthful of Shaw & Smith Sauvignon Blanc, the concept of going home grew more appealing. I truly had changed since I’d moved to the Gold Coast. And not just in looks. I was now a strong, independent woman . . . who was having sex on a weekly basis. I giggled.
Alexander may have cheated on me with nearly every woman in Mildura, but at least the sex I had didn’t hurt anyone. In fact, it did the opposite. I always felt better afterward, and I was pretty sure the men I met did, too.
As if on cue, a man strolling from the shoreline with his pants rolled up and shoes in his hand caught my eye. His knitted jumper alerted me to his identity. It was Cameron, the wedding planner.
I was pleased for him; it looked like the weather was going to be nice tomorrow after all. As I tried to picture him without the worried scowl on his face, the idea of going to him and having a rollicking good romp before my shift snapped into my mind.
I took my dishes inside, tossed them into my sink, and with another top-up of my wine, I headed to the bathroom.
Cameron and I had chatted for some time this morning, so I needed to change my eye color. I chose brown today and popped the contact lenses with ease. Applying more than enough makeup, I transformed myself into Memphis and selected the cute blonde bobbed wig.
At my closet, I debated what to wear. I wanted to make this a bit of fun. Cameron needed cheering up, and I also wanted to show him that not all women were bridezillas.
The poor man needed fixing.
With that thought, I pulled my naughty nurse uniform from the clothes hangar.
Chapter Fifteen
Giggling, I held the naughty nurse uniform against me. This is exactly what Cameron needs.
Last time I’d worn this, I didn’t wear any underwear. It was wonderful to have clothes with fabulous memories to go with them. This time I chose a white bra and a G-string that was made from barely any fabric at all. I put on my lacy stockings and secured them at the top of my thigh with the decorated elastic trim. I pulled on the costume and tugged it together at the front to do up the zipper.
I chuckled as I stood in front of the mirror. It sure was sexy. Now for the shoes.
I tugged my boots from the bottom of my closet, slipped into them, and did up the back zipper. By the time I was dressed and ready, my insides curled with excitement.
With my trench coat covering my naughty Memphis outfit, I grabbed my bag with its trusty supplies and headed toward Cameron. I just hoped he was ready and willing to have a little bit of fun. As I rode the elevator down to the next floor, I fiddled with my wig in the mirror.
The pep talk I’d had with Lolita this morning made me feel amazing. I am invincible.
Thanks to Lolly, I couldn’t wait to show all the people back home the new me.
In the meantime, I had a sexy man waiting for me in room seven who needed cheering up. And I was in exactly the right mood to do it.
I strode to his door, removed my coat, fiddled with my boobs a little, and then knocked. After a couple of heartbeats, the door opened, and his jaw dropped.
“Hi.” I did a silly wave thing. “I, ummm, saw you downstairs, and you looked a little sad. I thought you’d like some cheering up.” I bobbled my head like a ditzy teenager.
“Oh, well, geez. This’s a little embarrassing.”
“What is?”
“Ummm, well, I’ve never had a . . .”
Oh God, he thinks I’m a hooker.
I guess with my costume, he could be forgiven for thinking that.
“Oh, it’s nothing like that. I’m not a prostitute or anything. I’m just a single woman who’s horny, and,” I leaned in to whisper, “I like to masturbate in front of complete strangers.”
It’s official. I’ve lost my fucking marbles.
His jaw dropped more, and his eyes bulged.
I crinkled my nose. “I know, it’s a little weird. But it’s the truth.” I shrugged. “So, may I come in?”
He looked past me to peer up and down the hallway, then ran his eyes over my costume. “Okay.” He sounded so skeptical; I was amazed when he stepped aside.
I inhaled his lovely aftershave as I walked past him. It was earthy and masculine and totally yummy. The door clicked closed as I tossed my jacket and bag over the back of the chair. I turned to him, and he’d stopped halfway between the door and me and still wasn’t showing even an inkling of excitement. In fact, he looked even more worried.
“First . . .” I held up a finger. “Are you married?”
“Oh God, no.”
I nearly burst out laughing at his assertion. It sure was ironic, given his line of business.
“What about a partner? Are you attached?”
“No and no.”
Excellent. “Are you okay with this? All you have to do is watch.”
“Is this a joke?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“No. You look amazing, but this . . . type of thing never happens to me.”
“Then this is your lucky day.” It was time for Memphis to take over. “So, you can sit over there if you’d like.” I pointed at the bed, and Cameron sidestepped over and sat without taking his eyes off me. He ran his tongue over his lips, leaving a delicate sheen in its wake.
I strode to him, and as I put the toe of my boot on the bed between his legs, he quickly shuffled back. The whites of his eyes were visible.
Oh shit, I scared him.
With my sexy red boot now just inches from his groin, I offered him my most seductive smile. “Can you help me out of these, please?”
As if mesmerized, Cameron guided his hands around my boot like he was about to caress it. With one hand gliding down the zipper, his other hand was warm and soft against the back of my knee, and my heart skipped a beat.
When the zipper was all the way down, he cupped my ankle and eased the boot off my foot. His fingers were so delicate, like a lover’s caress, and my insides quivered.
I swapped feet so he could take off my other boot. Cameron had the hands of an angel and, thankfully, took his time taking this boot off as well.
I stepped back slightly to stand before him, and his pupils were wide, almost swallowing up his brown irises. Our eyes met, and it was as if something familiar crossed between us.
Burning desire lit up my insides.
Capitalizing on that hunger, I reached for the zipper nestled in the valley of my breasts, and with my eyes on him, I lowered the zipper. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, and the bulge in his jeans grew.
My skin-tight fabric burst open as I eased the zipper down my body, and my breasts bulged from the white material, happy to be free from the constraint. I pulled the zipper right to the bottom, and after a little tug, the dress unhooked from the hem and parted. With the nurse uniform hanging loose at my sides, Cameron had a sneak peek of my lingerie.
He devoured me with his gaze, and it made me so damn horny. Shivers charged through my body at the intensity in his eyes. I shrugged the dress off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
I reached around and unclipped my bra, and it, too, fell at my feet. His eyes grew wider as I stepped forward. My breasts were the perfect height for his mouth, and as my breathing increased, Cameron eased forward on the bed and cupped his warm hand beneath my left breast.
The shivers charging through me skyrocket.
Cameron must be some kind of magician because his touch took me to another world. His hands were soft and gentle, treating my breasts like delicate flowers. He leaned forward, and as he continued to caress my left breast, he took my right nipple into his mouth and sucked, drawing it out until my bud was rock hard.
Cameron was a boob expert, and I was prepared to experience his professional touch all night if he wished. All year, if he’d let me.
He was still fully dressed, and I reached for his sweater, greedy to see what was hidden beneath. He put his hands over his head, and I tugged both his sweater and flannel shirt off and I admired his magnificently toned torso.
His broad shoulders tapered into narrow hips, and in between, every muscle was perfectly formed. I had estimated Cameron was in his late thirties, but after seeing this incredible body, I wondered if I was out by about ten years. Either that, or he knew all the right moves at the gym.
Cameron returned his attention to my breasts, and with his hands manipulating one boob and his mouth savoring the other, I slipped into another world where my mind took a back seat while every sensation in my body took over.
As he flicked from one breast to the other, I clawed my fingers up his back and drove them into his thick hair. The sexual coil deep inside me pulsed out a tribal beat that had my pussy begging to be played with. I reached down and threaded my hand into my G-string, and the very first touch of that oversensitive bud nearly had me launching off the carpet.
I sucked air through my teeth and flicked my clit again. A fire ignited within me, starting deep inside and blazing along every nerve in my body.
For some reason, I was really sensitive today.
As Cameron continued his onslaught on my breasts, I drove my finger over my throbbing clit and into myself. I was wet and hot and so close to climax that I squeezed my insides around my finger and bent my knees. I must’ve groaned or something because Cameron stopped his exquisite manipulation and lowered his eyes to my hand and its unbridled exploration.
The look of pure rapture on his face was a lethal aphrodisiac, and I hooked my thumbs into my G-string and dropped it to my ankles. I parted my legs and pushed my fingers back into my velvet folds, rubbing deeper, faster, and harder over my clit. Every delirious probe stacked another quivering layer of lust onto my orgasm, and soon, my climax was of mammoth proportions.
Cameron stood and whipped his jeans off. His cock was a mighty flagpole lunging from his body toward me. He wrapped his hand around that glorious rod and pumped it fast and hard. The gentle hands that had been on me were long gone and replaced with wild abandonment.
His eyes were closed. His mouth was wide open. And his legs were apart as he pumped his cock like there was no tomorrow. Standing barely a foot apart, the two of us performed the most natural, wild, explosive act.
It was erotic; it was mind-blowing. It was liberating.
White liquid shot from his crown, once, twice, landing in a long stream on his flannel shirt. The primitive joy of his ejaculation took me to the very edge. My legs threatened to buckle beneath me as I bent my knees even farther. Everything around me blurred into obscurity, so I closed my eyes and allowed my body to take over.
I tipped over that glorious edge and cried out as my hot juices trickled over my hand again and again. The sensations that gripped me unraveled, luring me into the blissful place that I’d come to love.
Sounds soon returned, and I heard our ragged breaths along with his television that I hadn’t noticed was on earlier.
He let out a big gush of air. “Holy . . . wow.” His eyes bulged at me. “Women don’t surprise me very often.”
I grinned at him. “Glad I could help.”
A frown drilled across his forehead. “You said you saw me downstairs. Where?”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “I watched you stroll up from the beach. You walked straight past me.” A truth and a lie mingled together—was that bad?
He lowered his eyes. “Hmmm, sorry about that. I don’t normally miss beautiful women.”
With that lovely comment, I pulled my wet G-string up my legs, and although it felt disgusting, I tried to ignore it. I gathered my trench coat off the chair and pulled it on. I collected my bra and nurse uniform and shoved them into my bag. Then I reached for my boots.
“Here, let me help you.” Cameron kneeled on the floor and reached for the back of my heel.
To have a naked stranger put my shoes on for me was both surreal and incredibly erotic. His hands were a gift from God.
Once he had both boots on, he eased back onto the bed and sat again. Before I did something silly like tear my clothes off and dive on him, I strode to the door.
“Oh, wait. Please tell me your name.”
“I’m Memphis.” I was glad he’d asked. I’d like him to remember me the next time he was dealing with a bridezilla. His smile was incredible, and with the vision of the naked man grinning at me permanently etched into my mind, I walked out his door.
My legs were rubber as I made my way to my room. I stripped off and stood under the hot shower for ages. As I reflected on my day, I sighed. It had been twenty-four hours of tumultuous emotions. But what had started out horribly had ended fabulously.
After dressing for work, I grabbed my diary and sat at the dining table. I turned to the 14th of August. At the top, I wrote Cameron Jax, Room 7, and as I thought about his wonderful hands, I wrote Gifts from God.
Cameron had made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. And not just with his hands—with his eyes, too. He’d mastered the art of truly looking at a woman. Maybe in his line of business, his gift ensured his success.
I lined the diary page with vivid details of what he’d done and, in particular, how we climaxed at the end. To watch a man ejaculate and know I’d caused that unbridled reaction was the most amazing thing in the world.
