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Authors: Christine d'Abo

30 Nights (9 page)

BOOK: 30 Nights
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Eric crooked his fingers and increased the pressure on that magic spot deep inside me. My pussy felt warm, burning, as though my orgasm had a fuse that had been lit and it was only a matter of time before it exploded.
“Shit,” I whispered. My attention focused on the places where our bodies met.
His cock was a rock against my side as he moved against me. I wished I could have reached over and grabbed him through his pants, but that would have meant removing my hold on his shoulders. Still, I nearly risked it. If he hadn’t taken that moment to lower his head and mouth at my breast through my shirt, I might have.
With his teeth ensconced behind his lips, he worried at my nipple, rolling and teasing it. Pleasure fired my breasts. I wanted to strip naked and rub against him still fully clothed. It was crazy, he was
making
me crazy.
I cried out in frustration as my orgasm refused to come. Eric lifted his face, shifting his body so his hand was better positioned to rub my clit. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
I no longer had the ability to speak. My mouth was open and the air barely reached my lungs, I was breathing so shallow.
Our gazes locked for a moment and I knew he was as shaken, as aroused as I was. “I can’t wait to put my face between your legs and lick your pussy. I want to know what it feels like to have your thighs squeeze my face. What your come will taste like.”
And that was it. Nothing was going to stop me from coming now. My body was too primed, my pent-up lust having gone on for far too long to ebb away now. It was full speed ahead, and Eric was going to carry me over the finish line. He pressed a bit harder as he leaned in and sucked my earlobe. He flicked the lobe in time with his hand on my pussy. The dual sensations connected and I felt my muscles begin to tighten.
I sucked in a breath and for a moment I didn’t know if I would ever be able to let it out. My body tensed and tightened before that first burst of pleasure exploded. My eyes squeezed shut, my mouth opened, and I cried out.
“Fuck!”
Pleasure rolled through me at a lightning pace. It consumed me, chewed me up and spit me out. It was as though Eric had let something loose inside me that I’d never be able to stop. He continued to fuck my body with his hand, moaning softly in my ear. Whether intentionally or not, he pressed his cock hard against my side, and for a moment I thought he might come in his pants. He might have for all I was aware.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the intensity faded. My body slumped against his, and it took everything I had to simply catch my breath. With only his hands and his voice, he’d given me the best orgasm I’d had in ages. I couldn’t imagine that I’d survive if we ever had skin-to-skin contact. Wow.
Eric held me as he removed his hand from my panties and righted my skirt. Never before had I had this sensation rolling through my body after sex of any kind. I was drained of energy, and yet my senses were heightened. And there was still a rock-hard cock pressed against me. He hadn’t come, and so far hadn’t made a move to do anything about it.
Once I started to move against him, clearly recovered, he placed a kiss to my cheek and took a step back. “That was everything I could have wanted.”
“But you haven’t come?” Sure we didn’t have a condom, but I was more than happy to repay his awesomeness with a hand job. Anything. “Let me do something for you.”
“No, this wasn’t about me. Besides, the bruschetta should be at our table.” He held out his arm for me to take. “Shall we?”
My brain couldn’t wrap itself around this. He’d whisked me away to a private room and given me the best orgasm ever, and was refusing any reciprocation? Was he even real? Was I a fool for not grabbing him and refusing to ever let him go again?
I took his arm. “Your erection is very obvious.”
“We’ll walk back to our table slowly then. I won’t talk for a few moments so I can picture some horrible things in my head to make it go away.”
“Guys really do that? Like imagine dead puppies and plane crashes and stuff?”
The air was just as pungent when we emerged from the storage room. Eric gave his head a shake as we walked through. “Yes, we do. That smell will also help.”
He was right; by the time we made it back to the table our bread and wine were waiting. Unlike the first time he pulled out my chair, this time his fingers brushed along the back of my shoulders. When he sat down, I made sure to reach out and put my hand on his thigh.
“Why did you do that for me? Why not let me do the same for you?”
“I wanted you to be certain. This might just be about sex, but not everyone is compatible. Now we know that we are.” He took a deep drink of his wine before turning his attention back to me. “And I wanted you to know that I’m doing this for you, too. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you. I couldn’t do that.”
“I know. Look, you seem really worried that I’m not a willing participant in this.” I took a moment to collect my thoughts. “I’m twenty-eight years old. I’m happily single, but I do enjoy sex. I’ve played things safe my whole life. When I found these cards it was as though someone was trying to tell me to get out there and do something crazy, something beyond my normal, safe bubble. I’m not going to force you into marriage or blackmail you if that’s what you’re worried about. Honestly, I just want to have awesome sex. That’s it.”
“I can relate to that. Two normally solitary people seizing on an opportunity to have some fun.”
“Yeah. There are only thirty cards. We can do a few and then stop. Or whatever.”
Eric nodded and held out his hand. “Agreed then. Thirty cards, thirty nights. We can stop whenever.”
“Deal.” As we shook on it my heart raced. This was it. “So where do we go from here?”
There was no mistaking the wickedness behind his grin. He lowered his chin and narrowed his gaze. “Now we pick a time, a place, and a card. So what’s it going to be, Glenna? Where do you want our thirty nights to start?”
Without breaking his gaze I reached into the deck and pulled out a card.
Part 2
An Experimental Phase
11
W
ith my cell phone in hand, I stood in the hall outside the hotel room and debated going home. It was Saturday night, four days since Eric had gotten me off in a storage room and we’d made our plans to tackle the first card that I’d selected from the pile.
 
Day Ten
Play strip poker
 
I had to reassure Eric that yes, I did indeed know how to play poker. I was actually pretty good and had made a surprising amount of money when I was in grad school. Great Glenna had been the one to teach me when I was much younger. She was also the one who pointed out that I seemed to have a natural ability to count cards and recommended that I never go to Las Vegas. Ever.
There were a few times I’d been tempted, but so far I’d managed to keep out of the casinos. Still, it was cute that despite my assurances about my skill level, he was being all chivalrous about the game.
We can change it to something else. I don’t mind.
So cute. So misguided.
When he’d e-mailed me to tell me where he’d gotten us a room for the night, I was flattered. It couldn’t have been cheap booking a suite at the Westin Harbour Castle, and yet he had. He’d let me know what time he was planning on arriving and the front desk told me that he had in fact already checked in. There was no reason I should be standing out in the hallway.
None whatsoever.
Just because I was about to use sex cards from a graveyard with a professor from my school—purely as a sexual research experiment, just to see what it would be like to engage in sex beyond the missionary position. Why should I be nervous? I’d agreed to this, I
wanted
to do this.
Not to mention that I’d been thinking about Eric and his amazing ability to give the best orgasms ever since our dinner. Every time I closed my eyes I could see him. I could hear his voice and feel his cock against me. I would be able to have the real things as soon as I used the card in my hand and opened the door.
“Chickenshit.” I closed my eyes and counted to three before I slid the key into the reader. The electronic lock snapped its release and I stepped inside.
The room was huge. There were two love seats opposite each other in the living room, flanked by end tables. The wood flooring made my heels click as I walked across it to explore. The windows were large and the curtains pulled open revealing a gorgeous view of Lake Ontario. I didn’t see a bed, but figured it was in the other room. This place was miles above my apartment in beauty and décor.
Eric stood in front of the windows, dressed in his typical dress pants—black—and shirt—light blue. Knowing what we had in store for our first . . . date? Experiment? Thing? . . . whatever, I’d chosen to wear as many layers as I thought I could reasonably get away with. He could be a poker shark for all I knew. No reason to make things easy for him.
“Hi.” I’d pulled my hair up into a bun, but had left several tendrils around my face. It was tempting to reach up and play with one, but I didn’t want him to think I was nervous. Even though I was actually freaking the fuck out. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was being, especially given what he’d already done with me back at the restaurant.
He didn’t say anything immediately, instead giving me a once-over. I’d always laughed when I’d read a book and it would liken a look to a lover’s caress. How could that even be a thing? Going forward, I would
never
make fun of that again. My skin seemed to know exactly where his gaze landed, tingling as though being caressed by invisible fingers. When he finally looked up again, I could have sworn I saw relief.
“I’m glad you came. Can I get you a drink?” He walked over to the ice bucket and pulled out the chilling bottle. “Claude reassured me that this is a good vintage. I’m not as familiar with this region, so I’ll have to trust him on this one.”
“Yes, please. I never did ask how you two met.”
“Our mothers were friends for years. They ended up getting pregnant around the same time and we pretty much grew up together.”
He handed me my glass and I quickly took a sip. “Were friends?”
“Claude’s mom passed away a few years ago. It was hard on him. She was a single parent and he never had much of a relationship with his dad.”
“That’s awful. I can’t imagine not having my parents in my life.” Now that I’d started to relax, I noticed the wooden desk he’d pulled out, positioned by the window with a chair on either side. “So this is where our poker match is going down.”
“I bought some cards in the gift shop. I didn’t have any at home.”
“You should have said something, I have a bunch.” They were more than well loved and probably not ideal for poker, but would have served our purpose for tonight.
Without waiting for him I opened the card deck, pulled out the cards, and started shuffling. This was something that Great Glenna had also taught me at a young age. She claimed that it was because she had arthritis and that her hands hurt too much to do it. Mom told me later it had more to do with the fact that it kept me busy for ten minutes, which gave her time to enjoy her drink, a gin and tonic. She’d claimed that the staff at the nursing home where she lived never quite made them right the first time she asked for one, so she always had them make her a second.
God I missed her.
Lost in my thoughts I hadn’t realized that Eric was still standing up. I smiled and nodded toward his seat. “Going to join me?”
“You play cards.” His eyes were a bit wider than normal and he seemed to be holding his wineglass a bit tighter.
“I told you I did.”
Wait a minute.
“Do I detect a note of fear in your voice, Professor?”
For the first time in the year that I’d been aware of Eric’s existence, he looked uncomfortable. He took a sip of wine before joining me at the table. “I just hope I’ve brought enough clothing.”
I couldn’t help it, I got excited when I smelled blood in the water.
This is going to be so much fun.
“We’ll start off simple then, just so we each get a feel for each other’s skill level. Straight poker, nothing wild, one discard. Fair enough?”
“Fine.”
I dealt the cards and turned my attention to my hand.
Oooh, a pair already.
“How many?”
Eric was staring at his hand with a narrow gaze. “Four.”
“You have to put them into the discard pile before I can deal.” He dithered for a moment before tossing the cards. “You’ve played poker before, right?”
“Yes.” He drained his wineglass. “Once.”
Oh dear.
“Dealer takes three.” I didn’t improve on my pair of eights, but I wasn’t worried. “So what do you have?”
He stared at the cards for a long time. “Can you tell me how the winning hands go again?”
“Sure. Straight flush, four of a kind, full house, flush, straight, three of a kind, two pair, pair, high card.”
“Right.” He stared at his cards a bit longer. “A flush is all the same suit, right.”
“Yup.”
Oh bless.
I was going to obliterate him.
He looked at me, then back down to his cards before he laid the pile between us. “Ten high.” The way he said it, I knew he wasn’t certain that was the right way to call the hand.
“Dealer wins with a lucky pair.” I shouldn’t have been this excited for a game. I’d come here to have sex with Eric, to finally sate the curiosity that had been burning inside me for so long now. And yet, I had a competitive streak a mile wide and couldn’t help but be thrilled with my win.
“I guess that means I need to lose a piece of clothing.”
I hadn’t played strip poker before, preferring to play for money instead. But anytime I’d seen it in a movie or heard about it from a friend, most people who lost would remove the smallest article of clothing they had first, saving the bigger pieces for the end. Eric either hadn’t watched the same movies that I had, or else he had a different strategy in mind. He stood and began to unbutton his shirt.
Starting at his sleeves, he undid the buttons and loosened the ends. He then went to work on the trail of white circles that held the well-tailored shirt together. Any smugness I’d felt from winning the game evaporated as each inch of firm, tanned chest was revealed.
An entire year of looking, of wondering, hadn’t quite prepared me for the awesomeness that was a half-naked Eric.
There was nothing soft or bookish about his body. Hair covered his chest and trailed down to his stomach where it stopped just above his belly button. His biceps and triceps were balanced and well defined, as much as his pecs. He wouldn’t pass as a bodybuilder, but he clearly looked after himself.
Finally seeing what I’d wondered about for so long made my libido take notice. My nipples tingled and I became uncomfortably aware of how full they felt. A burst of arousal spread through my pussy and I had to fight the urge to press my hand between my legs. This was going to be harder than I’d assumed.
Once he’d folded his shirt and set it on the bed, he sat back down at the table. “Another hand?”
If he was nervous about losing, he didn’t show it. Probably because he knew that naked Eric was a surefire method to distract me. I dealt the cards again, but this time my excitement about the game had been replaced with anticipation for what would come after.
An annoying side effect of card counting is that it’s not a skill you can simply ignore. I didn’t have to work to remember what cards had been played and what the probabilities for the other cards were. It meant that, given Eric’s lack of experience, I had a greater opportunity to direct who would win which rounds. On the next hand I threw away an ace, king combination, ignoring my sobbing inner gambler. “Seven high.”
“Pair of threes.”
“My turn I guess.” There were two ways I could go about this. I could take off my sock and keep as much clothing on until Eric was well and truly naked, increasing the tease. Or I could lose my shirt, which would put us on even ground.
I stood and pulled it off over my head. I couldn’t be bothered to fold it, so I dropped it on the floor by my chair. “Next.”
While I might not be the flirtiest girl in the world, I still took pride in my appearance and appreciated it when a man noticed. In preparation for tonight, I’d gone out and bought a bra and pantie set that had little to do with comfort and support and everything to do with making my breasts and ass look spectacular.
And they really did.
Still, when Eric made a noise that for a second I thought sounded like a growl, I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of relief and anticipation. “Pardon?”
“Deal.”
I grinned and took another sip. “We can change the game up if you want.”
“Deal.”
“I’m good with Crazy Eights, or Go Fish.”

Glenna
—”
“Okay, okay. Dealing.”
I showed no mercy for the next three hands, winning each one. I think it was then that Eric realized that I clearly had the upper hand and he changed tactics. He took off both of his socks and his belt. The next round I’d been hoping that the pants would be the next thing to go, but he surprised me with a straight.
“Nicely played.” I stood and unbuttoned my pants.
When I’d gotten dressed, I’d decided to go with my garters and stockings. If he’d turned out to be a good player, it gave me a few more bits and pieces to dole out. But I also knew the overall effect the lingerie would have.
Tossing my pants to the side, I paused for a moment before slinking out of my panties as well. I then sat down on the edge of the chair and crossed my legs. “Any more of that wine?”
Eric stood so quickly that his chair fell over and landed silently on the carpet. He stared at me for what felt like forever, when in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. He might not be a good poker player, but he had the smoldering glance down to a science. He came around to my side of the table. I turned in my seat, but kept my legs crossed, enjoying the added pressure on my clit.
“I concede.” He spoke softly, but there was no weakness in his words.
“Winner takes all?”
He held my gaze as he pulled the front of his pants and freed the button. With a steady pull the zipper came down and with it, the last of my reservations. Gravity tugged the fabric to the floor, leaving him with one final article of clothing. Eric’s erection was pressing hard against his briefs, straining to be freed. I wanted to reach out, to do the last bit of the work myself, but I couldn’t move. Heat rolled from him that made my head swim. Or maybe that was the wine and the rush of excitement that flooded through me. Either way, I was more than ready for whatever was to come next.
He didn’t leave me wanting for long. Slipping his thumbs beneath the waistband he held my gaze as he pulled them down over his hips and thighs, all the way to the floor. I watched the muscles in his arms and shoulders move as he did. The way his chest rose when he stood up again, taking a deep breath. I couldn’t wait any longer. My gaze slipped down to the one part of his body I’d wanted to see more than anything.
Holy. Shit.
His cock was perfect. Well, perfect for me. I’m sure there might be other ones out there that would qualify, but none of them were attached to Eric. It was thick and straight and not too long. His balls were tight and he looked ready to rock and roll. I wanted to take him in my mouth, suck him until all I could hear were moans coming from him in that low rumble of a voice.
I would have done that if he hadn’t taken that moment to drop to his knees in front of me. His gaze traveled up my leg, pausing briefly on my pussy, my stomach and breasts, before landing on my eyes. He took my foot in his hand, and my breath caught in my throat.
“May I?” There was no smile on his face, but I could hear the teasing in his voice. I might have won the poker game, but we were still in the middle of a very different competition. Who could arouse the other the most?
BOOK: 30 Nights
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