Page 3 of Role Play
And I’m so ready to be turned on.
“Has it been a long time? Between drinks, I mean?” he asks, and I don’t think we’re talking about champagne anymore.
“Let’s just say I was ready,” I reply, taking a sip of my sparkling wine, and the bubbles dance on my tongue. “But I’m only thirsty for a particular kind of beverage. A certain special order, if you will.”
“And what kind of order is that?” Lust dances in those dark eyes, and I swallow, lean in, take a deep breath.
“I want a man I’ve just met to worship me. To tease me and to pleasure me.” I whisper the naughty words then pull back to meet his gaze. Our lips are only inches from each other, the heat from his body warming me from head to toe.
“I bet you want someone to take control,” he says in that gravelly tone that makes my pulse flutter. “You’re tired of making decisions at work all the time.”
“I am,” I reply, running my fingers up his tie. “I want someone to take the lead.”
He slams a bill down on the bar and laces his fingers through mine. Heat jolts through my body as he pulls me a little closer in this intimate corner of the room. “I’m going to take the lead right now.”
“Please,” I say.
He leans down, brushes his lips over mine. It’s a short kiss—soft, sensual—but it’s full of heat, and it fires through my body at the speed of light. In that one kiss is the promise of things to come. Of sexy, heady sighs. Of spiraling sensations that fizzle and pop. Of kisses in other more intimate places.
I go to pull away, but he grips my wrist, drags me back. The kiss is like the champagne, going straight to my head in a fizzy whirl.
I slide my hand under his jacket and grip his shirt, pulling him closer. The firm length of his cock presses against my stomach, and want surges in me. I want more with him. I want more right now.
“I have a room upstairs,” I breathe between kisses. “And I know we’ve only just met. But I want to be ravaged by a sexy stranger in a three-piece suit.”
“Then it’s my goddamn lucky day.” He takes my hand, and we leave the bar with sex in our eyes and lust in our hearts.
In the elevator, tension threads the air between us. It’s all I can do not to rip open his shirt and map his chest with my hands, but I keep myself together because security cameras.
Finally, the elevator dings and lets us into my penthouse suite. Seconds later, he begins to make good on all my dirty dreams. He kisses, touches, teases. He tantalizes and torments. He even ties me up, and he brings me to orgasm using the latest Just for Her toy from my subscription box. I let go and invite in the intimacy that I was afraid of for so long. I’ve found what works for me, and oh, does it ever.
When the man of my dreams comes seconds after me, we both collapse onto the sheets, spent. He links his fingers through mine and presses a kiss to my knuckles, soft and tender, another side to his personality.
“I love you, sweet Blanche,” he whispers as he takes his wedding ring—the one that matches mine—from the pocket of his suit pants and slides it back on. “And I’ll be your mystery man any time you want.”
“Thank you, my love,” I reply, and take my own rings from the bedside table. Pretending my husband was a sexy stranger was definitely a mystery that delivered. “I love you too.”
As we both drift off to sleep, I smile, so happy that my husband was thrilled to be my lover and more than willing to accept this new and sexy side of me. And now that I know how to let go, I’m certain I’ll never be anything short of satisfied again.
