A Taste of Pleasure (7 page)

Rick called to say he was running a few minutes late, but that he was sending a car for her and he would meet her at the restaurant.
What a nice gesture
, she thought, then she pondered his reasoning. She was sure he wanted to take her home tonight, and without her car, there'd be no escaping him this time. She contemplated for a moment, then threw all caution to the wind and agreed. She opened the gates and awaited the arrival of her chariot. Before long, she saw the headlights approaching and went out to meet the driver as he circled in front of the château. An older, kind-looking gentleman leaped from the car and ran around to open her door. “Ms. Shelby, I presume?” he said with a smile.

“Yes, sir. And thank you,” she smiled as she eased into the regal black luxury sedan.

They traveled into the city in silence, with only the soothing sounds of soft music playing. Her anticipation of the evening grew with each passing mile. As they got closer, she noticed the driver making a brief call on his cell phone.

As they drove up to the entrance, Rick was waiting on the sidewalk with a dozen roses and a big smile. She grinned at his dimples again. The driver must have let him know they would be arriving soon. She was flattered as Rick opened her door and extended his hand, helping her from the car.

“These are for you, my dear,” he said with a smile as he handed her the roses.

“Thank you,” she said and gave him a quick kiss.

He leaned in the passenger window of the car, paying the driver and thanking him. She thought,
I could get used to this special treatment.
London hooked her arm through Rick's and he escorted her inside. He had reserved a private corner booth. She eased into the seat, he slid in beside her, and she snuggled up to him. They enjoyed the view, the ambience, and the delicious cuisine. After dinner, they sipped their wine, chatting and flirting. Rick slipped his hand under the tablecloth and under her skirt, sliding his fingertips across the tops of her thigh-highs, occasionally working a finger under her stocking and then gently snapping it against her leg. He was tantalizing her and she was hot, wet, and wanting. He leaned in for a kiss and slid his hand farther up her thigh. He gasped as he touched her sex, pulling back from their kiss with a shocked and excited look on his face as he discovered she was not wearing panties. His eyes narrowed and he kissed her deeper, sliding a finger into her wetness.

She stopped him, nearly panting at this point. “Rick, this is no place to be making out like two teenagers,” she said, trying her best to look serious, but failing and giggling instead.

“But baby, I want you so bad. Let's get outta here and head back to my place,” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. She was sure this evening would end in his bedroom. She took a long, cool drink of her wine to calm herself as she squirmed in her seat, when a tall good-looking guy approached the table.

“Hey, Rick, how ya doin'?”

Rick's face blushed. “Hi, Joe,” he said, and turned reluctantly to London. “London, this is Joe, one of my business rivals,” he said with distaste. London nodded; she was uncomfortable and unsure how to reply. Rick continued, “So, Joe, I'm fine. How are you?” he asked sarcastically.

“I'm doing just fine, and it sure looks like you are too.” He looked at London and grinned. “So, Rick, how is that beautiful wife of yours? I heard she was ill. Is she doing any better now?”

Rick's face flushed darker now, with anger and humiliation combined. Choking on his reply, he said, “If you must know, she is not doing well. The treatments have failed and she's in the ICU. It's only a matter of time now. But Joe, this obviously isn't a good time.”

Joe feigned a weak apology, despite his obvious intentions, and excused himself.

When Rick looked back at London, the color had drained from her face. She looked at him with disbelief and disappointment. Her heart ached and her head spun. Despite her reservations about him, she was just beginning to loosen up and enjoy his company. She was beyond astonished, and as much as she began to feel sympathy for this wretched soul, she was disgusted at the same time.

“London, I'm sorry. I-I was going to tell you, really. There just wasn't a good time,” he stuttered nervously, pleading with her. “She's been sick for so long, and that's why I was at the hospital when I saw you that day. She slipped into a coma, and I've been so lonely and I just . . .”

“That's enough,” London replied vehemently, her color now returning and blazing into a fiery red. “Please move so I can get out.”

“London, please . . .”

“Now, Rick!” she ordered. He rose from his seat and she squirmed out. She dug through her purse and threw some cash on the table. She picked up the roses and tossed them, saying, “Here, take these to your wife. She needs them much more than I do.” She turned and walked out of the restaurant on
shaky legs, tears welling in her eyes. As she waved to hail a cab, she vowed never to be without her own transportation again.

When she arrived home, she undressed and took a hot bath. She cried silently as the steam penetrated her, soaking away her anxiety. As she recounted the events of the past few days, she wondered what was going on with her.
Have I lost my good judgment? Have I lost my mind?
She was exasperated, and the last thing she needed right now was another married man in her life, especially that scoundrel. She realized she had been ignoring her own intuition. Her instincts had her running from Rick the moment they kissed, and she never should have doubted herself.

She remembered another thing her grandmother used to say:
“London, there are two kinds of women in this world, those who men cheat on, and those who men cheat with. You just have to decide which one you're going to be.”
She was beginning to understand this more every day, and although both choices seemed painful, she wondered why anyone would ever want to be a wife at all. She had resolved one thing, though: there was no replacing Deacon. There was nobody who could. After her bath, she crawled into bed, curled up around her pillow, and cried herself to sleep.

T
he season was changing, the air getting chillier and, thankfully, Deacon had resumed his virtual role in her life. His work pace had slowed down a bit and he had returned to heat up her nights with ever more intense sexual sessions via webcam. She was grateful and relieved. They were thriving on each other's company almost daily again. She longed for him to visit, but she kept those thoughts to herself.

But London's silent wish came true. Deacon called to tell her that he had to fly into New York on business the following week. He was overseeing a merger between a European and an American corporation. She was even more thrilled when she realized that her law firm represented the U.S. corporation's interest, so she would also be attending the same meeting. She immediately called La Fontaine Hotel, where the merger conference was being held to check on the availability of a suite. She spoke with Monique regarding reservations and she was informed that all of the rooms were booked, with the exception of the Imperial Suite, which was five thousand square feet of pure luxury.

“I'll take it!” She continued to arrange for early check-in so
that she could take advantage of the amenities before Deacon's arrival that day.

London requested a few more days off from work for the weekend following the conference so that she could spend time with Deacon during his stay in New York. She busied herself preparing everything in advance for the merger to ensure that everything would go smoothly. She didn't want any disruptions getting in the way of reuniting with her lover.

Her talks with Deacon became more passionate over the next week as the day of the conference grew closer. She was overcome with anticipation. She felt as if she were weightless and floating when she thought about being in his arms again. Her skin tingled as she daydreamed of his touch.

Thursday morning arrived. The conference was scheduled for Friday morning, but Deacon was flying in that afternoon, so he would be free for the evening and he was all hers! She took a shower and tied her hair back in a quick ponytail. She packed two suitcases full of all her favorite garments and lingerie, just in case. She dressed and raced off to the hotel.

She enjoyed the drive into the city and looked forward to a therapeutic day of pampering at the hotel spa. She gave her keys to the valet and was greeted by her personal butler, a service included as part of the Imperial Suite package. He was young and cute, edible even, but London had her mind focused on the main course, Deacon. She wanted everything perfect for him. The butler introduced himself as Bruce. He had the bellboy deliver her luggage to the suite while he gave her a brief tour of the legendary hotel and introduced her to the concierge. They explained all of the amenities and excursions that La Fontaine had to offer. The hotel lobby was remarkable Louis XV décor with crystal chandeliers that made her feel right at home.

Bruce escorted her to her private elevator and up to the suite, then reviewed the wine choices he'd selected for her as he stocked the private bar. He proceeded to unpack and arrange all of her personal items as they reviewed her agenda for the day. She planned to indulge at the spa for a manicure, pedicure, waxing, facial, and various other therapeutic treatments, followed by a one-hour full-body massage. Afterward, Bruce would draw her bath and have her meal promptly delivered. With the details finalized, he informed the spa of her arrival.

She wandered through the magnificent four-bedroom suite and took in the spectacular view. The décor was exquisite, with sumptuous textiles and furnishings inspired by the ambience of the royal court of Louis XV. There was a grand piano in the living room, a den with a library that was stocked with a vast assortment of titles, an amazing kitchen, and a sophisticated dining room to entertain guests.

Once Bruce left her alone she ran into the inviting master bedroom and jumped onto the bed like a child, letting out a small cheer in anticipation. She rolled around in the luxurious linens, hugging a pillow and laughing at herself. She couldn't contain her excitement. Lustrous marble and granite surrounded her in the master bath, adorned by gleaming 24-karat-gold-plated fixtures. She looked forward to her relaxing spa time, but she also couldn't wait to get back to this room to soak in the alluring bathtub.

She took the private elevator back down to the lobby. She was guided to the spa, a lavish oasis where every inch of her body was pampered with opulent treatments, scrubs, wraps, and rituals. The finale of a full-body massage stripped away every bit of stress she felt.

She returned to the suite, refreshed and rejuvenated. Bruce had her bath-oiled tub water warm and ready, fragrant and
bubbly. She soaked awhile, admiring her French pedicure and her own long, slender legs. Feeling glamorous, she closed her eyes and pictured Deacon's face. Just the thought of him made her wet and wanting. She eased her hand down and toyed with her sex, teasing herself as she dreamed of his touch. She stopped contemplating whether or not she should save herself for him. She decided there would be plenty of orgasms for him to savor, and she slipped her hand back under the bubbles to pleasure herself. She rubbed her button and eased a finger inside to stroke her hot silky walls. It took only a few minutes and she was panting, tingling, and moaning to her own delicious motions. She let out one soft whimper as she exploded into the bathwater. She smiled and sighed.

She wrapped herself in her fluffy white bathrobe and rang Bruce to deliver her brunch. She was famished after the morning's activities and she feasted on pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and a fresh fruit platter. She savored each scrumptious bite as she counted down the minutes until she would see him again, all the while envisioning her mouth on his beautiful body. She hoped he would still feel the same way about her.

She primped and fussed all afternoon. She slipped into her silky thin-strapped black dress, black stockings, and stilettos. Although the shoes hurt her feet a little, looks were everything for a night out. She also hoped that after the business meeting tomorrow, she would be spending much more time in bed than on her feet.

Her tummy fluttered as she took the elevator to the main lobby and sat waiting for him to appear. She saw him enter the lobby and her heart skipped a beat. He was more handsome than ever. She stood up and walked toward him as their eyes met. He dropped his suitcase and hugged her tightly. She knew nothing had changed; she could feel it in his embrace.
Bruce greeted Deacon and took his luggage. He arranged to have it sent up to the suite as they headed for the dining room.

Deacon pulled out her chair for her and kissed her on the cheek, whispering, “Hi, baby.” She smiled as she felt the tingles between her legs. He took his chair and sat down with an ear-to-ear smile—that damn smile. She bent over and kissed him, her low-cut dress showing peeks of her breasts, and they were longing for his magic touch.

“Been waiting long?” he asked as she caressed his hand. Her tummy tightened up as his skin sent shivers down her spine. “Since I saw you last,” she replied, her desires evident in her hungry eyes. Her hand moved sensually across his hand, in between his fingers, along his wrist, and down to the end of his third finger, the one she wanted him to put inside of her so badly. She smiled and ordered a latté.

“It's been too long since we last saw each other, yet looking at you, it feels like I've never left,” he said. “The webcam just doesn't do you justice, London. You're more beautiful than ever.”

He smiled and grabbed the finger she'd been trailing along his hand. He cupped her hands in his and kissed them gently. She breathed in the fragrance of her freshly brewed latté, pulling it deep inside her, letting the fragrance fill her mouth with the warm aroma going right where she wanted him to be. She swallowed, her eyes never leaving his. She looked down at him as his arousal was beginning to show. She shared his anxiety, surrounded by so many watchful eyes.