Shiraz (6 page)

His nose was millimeters
away from touching mine. “This has to be your call. You have to
want to give yourself to me, I am not going to
take
you unless you demand I
do.”

His eyes narrowed like those of a wolf
realizing they have found their dinner. Just before our faces could
touch he pulled back and handed me the key.

“
I have a feeling I’ll be
seeing you later, Min.”

I was physically and mentally
incapable of responding in words. I looked at his eyes, still
sizing me up. I looked down at my feet, back at him, and opened my
car door just after looking away. I took several jittery steps in
the direction of my apartment, and without turning around, I heard
his car pull off.  

I reached into my purse,
dropping the keycard into a small pocket, as I reached for my phone
at the same time. I unlocked my phone to see not a single text from
anyone except Antonio which had a drunken array of misspelled words
that read
“Heay Medusa, are ok u$?”
Alrighty then, he was obviously drunk
texting.

I swallowed hard, without a single
drop of saliva in my mouth. I looked back in the direction of the
street, and Ryan was already gone. I looked back at my phone making
absolute sure there was not a text from Brandon. I checked Facebook
and when I went on his page it displayed he had been on moments
ago, yet he didn’t text me? I clicked out of the Facebook app. I
dialed a number on my phone, put the phone to my ear, and after a
few short rings a woman picked up the other end with a warm
hello.

“
Hello, this is Uber,
where are we taking you tonight?”

With a condescending smile, “Hawthorne
please.”

Chapter 3

Melinda

The Hawthorne sat just minutes away
from my house. The whirlwind of emotions - fear, anxiety, lust, and
doubt formed a whirlwind in my stomach. I flipped down my car visor
checking the mirror ensuring that my hair was cooperating for
whatever I was about to experience. I look like a deer in
headlights. Before heading inside I made sure my car was parked
carefully between each car of either side of me. I stepped out of
the car shivering as the gusty wind blew past me, despite it being
almost sixty degrees outside.  The Hawthorne was not a
shithole motel that offered hourly rates, instead it was a nine
floor beauty palace of luxury which made it the nicest place anyone
could find around here. A revolving door took up the entrance which
led into the lobby of marble flooring and statues that danced
around the wide front desk. A miserable looking night auditor
barely greeted me from the newspaper he held in his hands as I came
through the door, perhaps already knowing why I was here, thanks to
my outfit.  

I blew past the front desk
and punched the call button of the elevator. The towering silver
metal doors opened immediately allowing me to hop in alone. I
pressed the button that read
9
, no movement. I hit it again, and
still no response. Noticing the card reader next to it I took out
the key Ryan gave me and slid it through the reader. The button lit
up white and I stared at the trim of the double doors which
displayed the current floor number as it blinked. Every number
closer to nine was like a multiplier for my heart rate. By the time
the doors opened I kept my body back in the elevator leaving only
my head visible as I peeked out into the carpeted hallway. The sign
adjacent to the elevator directed me left for rooms 916-933. I
gulped loudly as I quietly trooped in the direction of Ryan’s room.
I felt warm as my face flushed with anticipation.

Another left turn and room 932 was
directly in front of me. Considering the amount of wall space
between this one and the room at the end of the hall this must have
been a massive suite. I looked side to side and a sudden pang of
paranoia coursed through me like an electric shock.

I clutched the keycard in my right
hand hesitating for one last fleeting moment before I swiped it in
the same manner as I did in the elevator. The door clicked, and I
pushed down on the handle which granted me access to an extravagant
room which obviously did not resemble the work of a man. A glass
dinner table with four matching chairs sat prettily as it was
positioned next to the window overlooking the highway, surrounded
by still life paintings on the walls. A TV measuring up to sixty
inches perched on the wall furthest from the door at a perfect
angle to be seen from the couch which was set in the middle of the
room. A coffee table was decorated with art books and local tourist
suggestions.

A narrow hallway gave way
to a bedroom. I stopped short when I noticed a bleach white blanket
adoring the foot of the bed. It was a king size, the headboard set
with at least ten pillows, joined with a red comforter. Assuming it
was Ryan’s, a travel bag rested at the foot of the bed opened all
the way with several shirts strewn about. I set my purse down next
to the lamp on the wooden nightstand. Where
is
this guy?

The only door that was left was
slightly cracked. A light spied through the crack and I heard the
shower running once I inched closer. I glanced in the only space I
had available; through the steam I was unable to see much of
anything. I edged the door open a bit releasing some steam which
allowed me to focus in and the only thing that appeared was a
dresser which sat across the room from the bed that a bottle of
Shiraz and two glasses shared. Creeping in, I helped myself to
unscrewing the top, thankful that I didn’t need to find a
corkscrew. The room still full of steam, I didn’t even bother
pouring it into a glass, I was so thirsty I guzzled several
mouthfuls straight from the bottle. I was thankful to finally have
something to liquidate the inside of my mouth.

The rain of the shower turned off. I
slammed the bottle on the dresser placing it back where I found it
as if stealing some wine was the worst act I had committed all
night. I heard friction between the shower rod and the rings of the
curtain as the curtain was pulled back. I sat on the edge of the
bed remaining invisible as he took two feet step out of the
bathroom. Should I speak up? Did he know I was here? I certainly
did a fine job announcing my presence with that bottle.

Ryan emerged. . . I am in awe. His
hairless chest still stood beaded with water. His torso looked like
a clear draft for Michelangelo. His abs were so toned his stomach
could grate cheese. He wore nothing but a pair of black silk boxer
shorts, which carefully outlined his concealed packaged. His legs
like stallions, the product of hitting the bass pedals throughout
the years, no doubt. He was toweling off his head when he looked up
and noticed me on his bed.

He’s looking right at me now. I waited
for him to speak, to thank me for deciding to take him up on his
offer, but he said nothing. Surely he had some witty comment in
store just like the other conversations we shared earlier in the
night, but he still stood motionless. The silence between us was
deafening, enough to send me into cardiac arrest if my pulse kept
increasing any more than what it already was.  

He took several calculated steps in my
direction. He wore the same look I had seen in his eyes when he so
boldly handed me the key to this very room. Our eyes met and I
remained powerless as the weight of this pressure was great enough
to hold me down.  What was he planning?  

Stopping just two steps away from my
face he planted his feet on the outskirts of my own. His crotch
directly in my face, he reached out his left hand and took my right
arm, urging me to get up. I followed his lead and stood amazed at
how I didn’t fall over. With my right arm still in his left, he
placed his right hand around my throat. The grip circling my neck
was menacing and forceful . . . just like I like it. He stopped
short of squeezing any harder and just simply held my neck as if it
were a drink, ready to be consumed.

Not once did his eyes
break contact.
Gosh, he’s so good at
that.
His gaze so intense, resembling a
vampire smelling an open wound I did not know was bleeding. I
closed my eyes as I scented his freshly washed chest. I opened them
again, his lips now hovering close to my chin. He was smelling me
as well. His nose traced a line from my shoulder skimming up to my
neck. My knees buckled and just as I felt the need to collapse both
of his hands slipped under my arms and held me up. I lifted up my
chin and locked eyes with him once more.

We both moved in at the same time, and
connected simultaneously. My lips smashed against his so hard and
so quickly there was no room left for the slightest bit of air. I
am amazed that neither of us chipped a tooth. We inhaled and
exhaled each other, blowing hot steamy air across our cheeks. His
tongue explored the inside of my mouth as mine did the same to him,
and I felt the back of his throat. My arms wrapped around his neck,
and I dug my fingertips into his bare back. I sucked on the rim of
his bottom lip as he ran his hand with a rough touch through my
hair. By the bundle he forced my mouth into his own once again, but
this time with much more force. He explored the space behind my
teeth, running his tongue across them like a pianist running his
hands across an entire keyboard. He tasted like granite and
leather. I could feel my pussy soaking through my skirt.

He pulled his mouth away from mine,
staring at my mouth in what looked like disbelief.  He smiled
again, an evil display of his power over me. He shoved me backward,
spilling my body onto the bed. I fell on my back as he crawled over
me, pinning my wrists to the bed underneath his grip. I struggled
to free myself just enough to show him this was what I wanted. I
don’t think he would have let up if I tried harder. He dove into my
neck like an eagle swooping down from the light sky, licking my
shoulder and snaking his tongue all the way up my clavicle, back up
to my earlobe. In that same exact spot he took it between his teeth
and bit down. I cried out in ecstasy as my inner thighs are ready
to set the bed on fire.

He let my wrists free so that his
hands could slide down my arms to cup my tits through the corset.
He continued to kiss me as if a bomb flick off if he neglected my
lips for more than five seconds. He pressed up against my body and
I could feel his cock filling up through his shorts, nuzzling my
knee. He sat me up, pulling my head and forcing it into his chest.
I zig-zagged my tongue all over it taking both nipples in my mouth,
one after the other, and sucking on it until they each hardened. He
growled a savage snarl that told me how much he was already
enjoying this. His talented hands unzipped my boots as I was
sprawled out on the bed. Sliding each boot off my leg gave my feet
some much-needed oxygen.

He took my leg by my ankle and raised
it into the air, pointing my toes to the ceiling while appraising
my leg like he had just excavated it from an ancient burial ground.
He ran his fingers across my calf, massaging the muscle as if he
were kneading dough. He gently kissed it as he spread my left leg
apart from the right and eyeing up the space between my legs. I
propped myself up on my elbows in quick attempt to grab his face
and bring it closer to mine, but he just as quickly took his face
from my grip. Kneeling on the bed, he ran his palm across my corset
again, palming the outlines of my tits. I looked down at his
package, the outline of his shaft begging to be set free from his
shorts. I took one hand and began tugging at his underwear, but he
grabbed my hand and set it back at my side.  

His fingers began to unhook each link
on my corset, one by one. If this was any other time I would have
asked if he had a lot of experience performing such a ritual, but I
refuse to kill the mood. My last hook finally free, he parted the
corset open, exposing my chest and stomach. With his tongue he
teased the imprint of the corset as it left marks all across my
torso, exploring the whole surface as he reached for yet another
handful of hair. He brought his tongue back up to my chin, down my
neck, and across my right breast. His other hand joined in and
encircled both of my tits in unison, somehow arousing my nipples
even more. I moaned in pleasure feeling the nubs of his fingers
drawing circles around my nipples.

He once again sprawled me
across the bed, this time closer to the headboard. I could have
cried, he was so fucking good at this. His tongue went rogue,
escaping my mouth via the path my neck made for it and found my
left breast.
For how violated my breast
feel he must be obsessed with them.
He
flicked his tongue like a snake, forcing my back to arch. Clenching
my nipple with his teeth, I flinched at the pain. He mimicked this
with my other nipple, paying equal attention to the underside of my
tits. His other hand clawed across my thigh and squeezed my ass
through my skirt. Holy fuck, this was incredible.

I felt obligated to give him a hand.
While he continued to tease and suck at my tits, I unzipped the
back of my skirt. He must have heard the unzip of the zipper . . .
both of his hands scratched at the skirt, wiggling it down my legs
and letting it slide off my feet and drape to the floor. He moved
two fingers to the inside of the line of my black panties, letting
the elastic snap back against my waist. With each handful he
grabbed two handfuls of underwear and yanked, unearthing my pussy
that was his for the taking. He ran two fingers along my trimmed
hair, sending my juices into a frenzy. I was going to die if he
didn’t dive in already.