Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You want a nightcap or anything?” Ryan asked, kicking off his shoes as soon as they arrived back in the hotel room.
“I’m thinking more of anything,” said Isobel, planting her hands on his shoulders and pressing herself into his chest.
“You enjoy yourself tonight?”
“Very much. The limo was so much fun. And your friends seem like a nice crowd.” The maid had turned down the bed and left a chocolate on each pillow. Isobel picked one up, bit it in half, and offered it to him from her tongue. He deftly took it from her, and locked his lips on hers, and they passed the chocolate back and forth, a trickle of brown escaping down his chin, until it melted into sweet nothingness in their mouths.
“So they’re not quite the posers and piranhas you expected?” he said, as he played with the curls in her hair.
“I never said that.” She popped the remaining half of the chocolate in his mouth, and this time he crunched down on it before putting his lips back to hers.
“But you thought it?”
“Maybe, a bit, it’s the Hollywood image I suppose, Sunset Boulevard and everything.”
“So I passed the test?”
“It wasn’t a test,” she said, tracing her hands over his collarbones, “I’ve been curious to meet them. That’s natural, isn’t it?”
“So when do I get to meet your friends?”
Isobel let out a laugh. “When you next come to my Yoga class.”
He slipped her leather jacket off her shoulders and tossed it on the bed. He started to unbutton her blouse.
“We can have sex in the morning, if you’d rather get some rest.”
He took her hand and put it against his jeans. She could feel the swollen gland pushing against his trousers. “Does Henry want to come out and play again?” she asked. She rubbed him up and down through his trousers, feeling him respond to her touch. “I think he does,” she said coyly.
“And I think the lady may be right,” he replied, pushing her blouse from her shoulders.
She unzipped him and took out his cock, kneading it up and down its full length. “What’s getting you this excited?”
“Apart from your hand, you mean?” He unfastened her slacks and pushed them down over her hips.
“Apart from my hand.”
“I don’t know, maybe tonight just got me thinking about something…”
“Thinking about what?” she said, intrigued and continuing to play with him.
“You remember that night in the taxi, coming back from El Cajon?”
“Yeees,” she said, stiffening slightly.
“Would you be up for doing something like that again?”
“Something like what?” she said, as if she had no idea, not wanting to make it easy for him.
“You know…having someone watch us.”
“You’re not fantasising about what Cindy suggested?”
“Maybe,” he said, as her slacks slid to her ankles. “But she’s only allowed to watch.”
He was hot to her touch. “You want to play pretend?” she asked, dragging her nails down his back.
“Can’t hurt, if it’s just pretend.”
She smiled to herself, recalling Maria’s account of her night with Greg, and their thoughts on the predictability of men. “You sure Henry can take two of us? Cindy looked like she could be hard to handle.”
“I could give it a try. But they do say she has studs and rings in the most awkward of places.”
“Like here, you mean,” she said, taking his hand and gliding it down her belly.
“So they reckon,” he replied, twirling a finger through a wisp of hair.
“Who is they?”
“Half the girls on every shoot.”
“Quite an appetite then,” she said, wriggling out of her knickers. “So they reckon.”
She saw that he had closed his eyes, an actor living the scene.
“What if she wants to do more than watch?” she asked, happy to indulge him.
“Whatever works for you, babe.” The lines between fantasy and reality began to blur. He kicked off his trousers. “Tell me, how does it go? Do I take you first?”
“We’re still just pretending, not rehearsing, okay?”
“Sure babe,” he said, seeming to be happy with any terms that let the game continue.
“Cindy takes me first, you have to watch.”
“How does she take you?”
He pulsed with excitement in her hand. “I’m sitting on your lap, on a chair, my legs spread across your thighs.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Just my earrings.”
“And what’s Cindy doing?”
“She’s kneeling, between our legs.”
“Eating you?”
“Hum, but looking into your eyes. She can’t wait to get to you.”
“And then?” he asked, his fingers deep inside her.
“She gets up and puts her tongue in your mouth. But it’s me you can taste on her lips.” She pushed her tongue past his lips.
“Christ babe, you taste so fucking good. And then?” Her hand slithered up and down him, wet with his pre-cum. She smiled.
“Then I switch with Cindy. Now she’s sitting on your lap. She wants you inside her.”
“Where does she want me inside her?”
“I’m busy in between her thighs. There’s only one place left.”
“You horny bitch.”
“No abuse, lover boy, or the game stops.”
“Abuse! That is respect, babe.”
They fell silent as both their breathing shortened, their hand movements quickening. Her head had dropped onto his shoulder, her hair falling against his neck. She inched backwards, bringing him with her, and fell across the bed, her legs spread invitingly. “Now your turn to give Cindy what she needs, and she needs it slow,” she said.
He knelt beside the bed, grabbed her ankles, and pulled her to him. “Okay if I begin with the appetiser,” he said, and ran his tongue up her quivering thighs, before lifting each one onto a shoulder.
“Cindy says she likes her appetiser.”
The warmth of his breath bathed her skin and a tremble of excitement ran up her body. She closed her eyes, letting her fingers comb through his hair. “That’s right, lover boy, that’s right,” she coaxed, “that’s just how Cindy likes it.”
The sound of water from the bathroom woke Isobel. She checked the clock and fumbled for the bedside lamp. She waited for Ryan to appear before growing impatient. She fished in her bag and took out a bottle of almond oil. When Ryan finally emerged he was wearing his boxers and carrying his cell phone. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d check my messages. What about you?”
She tossed aside the cover, revealing her nakedness. “Just waiting for you.”
“You’re determined to wear me out.”
“What else do you think I’ve come here to do?”
“I’m not sure I can go again right now, babe.”
“We’ll see.” She held out her palm, revealing the bottle cupped by her thumb. “Maybe a massage will help. Someone once told me I had magic in my hands.”
“Me too.” He knelt beside her and took the bottle from her. “You want me to get a towel? Or we’ll have the chambermaid gossiping.”
“A bit late for worrying about that.”
He patted the side of her leg. “Let’s start with that rear of yours, I guess I owe you that.”
She laughed. “You don’t owe me anything.” But she turned herself onto her stomach nevertheless. “Maybe the shoulders first.”
He did as she asked, first pushing her locks aside before working her neck and shoulders with his firm fingers. She luxuriated in his gentle touch, arching her back a little as her mind and body relaxed. Excitement and frustration built up within her in equal measure as his hands continued to dwell for what seemed an eternity on her upper body, his hardness now and again brushing the valley of her backside.
“Maybe lower,” she murmured, unable to contain the need within her.
He emptied the last of the almond bottle onto her, dripping it down along the whole length of her spine and onto her backside, then dragged his fingers down to the curve of her lower back, kneading the flesh above her kidneys, before inching his fingers back northwards.
“Please…Ryan…” she said, her words quiet but urgent.
He leant forward and licked her neck, and itched his evening stubble into her shoulders, but said nothing, before again dragging his nails down through the oil that glistened on her tingling skin He shifted his weight down her body and his hands moved to her thighs, dancing up and down the smooth and eager flesh. With each upward stroke he let his fingers brush lightly against her smooth labia before tantalisingly dragging them away. She murmured her frustration, and eased her thighs wider in blatant encouragement, but he denied her, moving his hands to her buttocks. He massaged her cheeks in slow circular movements, dragging a finger up and down the valley between them, now and again lingering over the over the small band of muscle.
She allowed him his moment of forbidden pleasure before clenching her buttocks. “Cindy had to go, remember?” she said.
If he had wanted to test her boundaries further he did nothing to indicate it, instead teasing his finger along the lips already moist with her own excitement. She lay still, letting out low sounds of satisfaction, as he slowly explored in and around her softness, until coming to rest on the centre of her desire. He leant forward again, licking her earlobe as his finger massaged back and forth.
“That working for you?”
She nodded, and he leant up from her, continuing to caress her with his fingers as she closed her eyes, willing him to take her.
As the spasms of excitement built up within her and her body tensed, ready for its release, his hand left her.
“Don’t stop,” she cried, as desperate need took over, her knuckles white as her fingers dug deep into the pillow.
Still not inside her, he put his mouth next to hers. She could bear it no longer and her own hand went to her hotness to finish his work.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
“I want you inside me,” she said, each breath short and urgent.
“More babe, I want to hear the words that you’re thinking.”
She told him.
“Now tell me where you want it.”
She told him.
He thrust into her as her fingers strummed furiously at the hot spot of her own desire. The lust in him responded to her guttural pleas, his movements more rapid than before, more forceful than he had ever been with her. He cried out her name as he spent himself inside her, his nails gorged deep into the flesh of her shoulders, as her whole body shuddered with her own fulfilment.