When in Rio (23 page)

“You just need to practice now. Learn the feet, then I will teach you about the hips,” Lourdes said blithely, sweeping Arthur off for another round of sultry dance floor doings.

“She could teach us all some things about the hips,” Jack admitted, waiting while I donned my shoes again and then pulling me back into his arms.

“She is sort of a force of nature,” I agreed, trying to look into his eyes some more and just follow his lead, giggling hopelessly when I inevitably goofed and stepped on his feet. It would happen quite a few times that evening, I knew. “Why didn’t you just tell me you already knew how to do this? I still would have come.”

“Would you?”

“Well, probably. Maybe.”

“You mostly like to do things that you already know how to do well.”

True. “Don’t we all?” I asked.

“You didn’t have a chance to study up in private about this before people saw you doing it.”

Ah, also true. But when the hell had he become such an expert on my insecurity?

“Have you actually been stalking me for the past two years, Jack?” I was being flippant, but there was a real question in there somewhere, a question to which I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know the answer.

He thought about it before answering, in the meantime attempting a spinout that failed hopelessly, to our mutual amusement. “Not as such. Not driving by your house or taking clandestine pictures of you or anything like that.”

“You’ve taken at least one clandestine picture of me,” I pointed out, thinking back to the unexpected image on my digital camera that first day. Jack had the grace to look a little chagrined.

“That one’s for your scrapbook. I was really just planning on pushing your camera down a little farther in your bag. I was worried about it being right there on top where a pickpocket could grab it. And then I couldn’t resist—when you walked out of the dressing room you looked so pretty. And that dress…”

“That’s very sweet of you, in a
stalkerish
sort of way,” I teased.

“I promise that’s the only one. Okay, a couple at the last company picnic but those were all just group shots. I think you’ve seen those, actually.” He reached a hand to tip my chin up. I’d been looking away again. “Maybe I’ve been mentally stalking you without meaning to. Just a little. Fantasizing, anyway. You keep, um, fulfilling my fantasies of you, is the thing. This week especially, of course.”

“I hope you never had a fantasy where we danced a great samba together,” I demurred, blushing typically. He spun me out again and it worked a bit better this time. I lost my step but was able to regain the beat when he whirled me back in.

“It’s a start,” he said, rather graciously I thought. I still felt very much like I was operating with two left feet, only able to accomplish as much as I had because he was such a strong lead. “It takes a long time to dance a really great samba together though.”

“You looked great with Lourdes,” I pointed out.

Jack laughed, looking over at the
Johnstons
who were moving like one being across the floor. “Good maybe. Not great. Just competent. And besides,” he winked, “she kept trying to lead. And as you can imagine, that really bugs me.”

The music was ending, a faster tempo taking its place, and Arthur was heading back to the table as Lourdes arrowed in on Jack with a determined gleam in her eye.

I didn’t even try to get in her way, just stepped back and let her tug Jack back out onto the floor. She seemed to possess endless stamina when it came to dancing. But somehow, this time I didn’t mind so much. I rejoined Arthur and ordered another drink, and we yelled over the music at each other about ecology as we watched Jack and Lourdes tear up the dance floor.

Chapter Twenty

Walking home started out slow and cool, our arms twined around each other’s waists, my head on Jack’s shoulder. The professors had taken a cab back to the hotel but Jack had declined to share, pulling me down the sidewalk instead. It was still busy, even at one in the morning, pedestrians everywhere and the streets still lined with cars. Music poured from clubs, one song carrying us to the next as we marked the blocks back to the hotel.

The first time Jack tugged me into an alleyway, I followed with a lighthearted giggle. It seemed such a romantic, unexpected thing to do, perfectly in keeping with the feel of the city at night.

“I couldn’t wait anymore to do this,” he explained, and then kissed me with a heat I hadn’t expected. Perhaps it had been all the samba. As he nipped along my lips, pressing me into the wall and making absolutely sure I knew he was aroused, he lifted my arms slowly over my head and gripped my wrists lightly, one of his large hands easily holding both of mine in check. The next thing I felt was his now-free hand, slipping up my bare thigh under the dress.

“Another fantasy fulfilled,” he whispered in my ear, as he shifted his attention to that stretch of neck he had clearly deduced was the fastest route by which to drive me insane with lust.

I had just time to remember what he was talking about before his fingers were pushing aside the silky fabric of my panties, stroking the soft skin of my outer lips. He hooked one finger around the fabric and held it out of the way as he teased his way closer and closer to the sensitive bundle of nerves that his caresses had already set throbbing.

At the next stop I felt a bit more apprehension. He pulled me farther away from the street this time, into a little well of shadow that particular alley offered, and thoughts of muggers flitted through my mind but were quickly dismissed by the sensations Jack was calling up. His lips were rougher, more insistent on my mouth, and his hand was just as demanding at my breast, plucking at the nipple until it was an aching, tingling knot of need.

“Take your bra off,” he ordered quietly, and I knew better now than to resist for even a heartbeat. I had the piece of silk and boning free from my dress in under ten seconds, despite how badly my hands were shaking. The bra dangled from my fingertips as Jack dipped his hand inside the wrap front of the dress, finally pushing the soft fabric out of the way completely and taking my bared nipple into his mouth for a torturous, sensual moment before releasing it with a gentle smacking sound and telling me to cover myself back up. The bra just fit into my evening bag, fortunately.

We were so close to the hotel by the third time that I’d honestly thought I was home free. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel…

I
couldn’t
see that light, however, from the secluded little courtyard I was led into, some little bistro’s walled-in patio now long since closed for the day. Jack sat me on one of the little wrought iron tables and raised my skirt nearly to my waist, stroking the soaked silk he uncovered with a speculative look before sliding one finger under it and inside me.

Yep, still wet
, I thought, and struggled to choke back the hysterical giggle I felt bubbling up at the feel of his finger pumping slowly in and out of my drenched pussy a few times before he removed it.

“Move this out of the way, little Katie.” He tugged at the silk, as if I needed any further explanation, and I lowered my hand to slide the moist fabric to one side, exposing myself to him and feeling exposed to the world. My other arm was behind me, braced against the tabletop, and I felt glad for the support—his eyes felt like a physical weight, as though they might actually push me over with the force I could see in them. I tried to get to a better place, to concentrate only on Jack’s voice, Jack’s orders…but I could hear the footsteps and voices from the sidewalk just a few feet away, and the knowledge of how easily we might get caught was as frightening as it was arousing.

“Play with yourself now. Just one finger. Slide it all the way in.” I did it, feeling my muscles clench. I realized then just how aroused I was, just how much I was depending on Jack to make this all right, and maybe he saw all that telegraphed on my face because the next thing he said was, “Good girl, Katie. You’re obeying all my orders perfectly tonight, pet. I’m very pleased.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I said gratefully, rather pathetically in all probability, but it seemed I was indeed that easy to train because just his words, the tone of his voice, made me hotter still, made me ache to do whatever it took to keep pleasing him and keep hearing him tell me I was a good girl, his perfect pet. Sitting there with my legs spread, the breeze blowing over my pussy as I fingered myself in a near-public place for Jack to watch, suddenly seemed like the best thing in the world I could possibly be doing at that moment.

“Now take your finger out and lick it all clean,” he said, kissing me deeply once I’d complied. His tongue flicked over mine, stealing my own flavor from my mouth, and his fingers found their way back to where mine had just been, brushing so lightly it was almost as if they were not touching me at all. He kept up that easy, maddening hint of contact as he stopped kissing me and gave me a grin of pure evil.

“Little Katie, I think it’s time to play with some of the toys you brought along.” And from his left breast pocket, he pulled the least dangerous of the three—my little silver bullet. My training toy, as I now thought of it. “To start with, let’s have a pop quiz. Question one—whose toys are they now, pet?”

“Yours, Sir,” I said without hesitation, but flinched when I heard the familiar buzz start up.

“And whose toy is this?” He pressed a bit more firmly against my slick pussy but pulled away before I had time to do more than whimper and yearn. He casually licked the moisture from his own finger as I answered.

“Yours, Sir.”

“Any other toys of mine you’re carrying around with you, little one?”

I had always hated short-answer questions. “My…mouth. And my ass. Sir.”

“Very, very good. I may have to rethink my position on the Big Book of Submission, little one. I think you may have learned some useful things from it after all. And what can I do with all my toys, pet? I’m accumulating quite a few.”

“Whatever pleases you, Sir.”

“Absolutely correct. In fact, I think you deserve a reward for being such a good student, little one.” And he brought the still-vibrating bullet down to my clit with no warning, just resting it there enough to titillate.

I was just turned-on enough that it felt too good. If he didn’t take it off soon, I’d be close to the edge. But then he did take it off and I regretted the loss instantly.

“You know, I think I’m in the mood to hear more from that Big Book of Submission, Katie. I think I’m going to want to hear from you quite a bit tonight.” He was looking at me with amusement, with that evil glint in his eye, and it only got worse as he kept talking. “And I don’t want any hesitation or over-thinking either. Just say it when I ask for it. Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir.” I wasn’t happy about it, of course. I hated talking that way, mainly because I was always afraid of coming up with something really stupid sounding in the effort to sound sexy. But I was starting to think Jack would probably just take that in stride too. Even if he laughed at me, he would somehow make it all work out.

“So. More essay questions then. Describe for me, little Katie, what you would do if I told you to suck my cock right now? And remember, you get extra points for details.” He had turned the vibe off but was resting it against my thigh, his hand curled protectively around both the toy and its controller. It was the carrot, and I knew all too well that the stick was waiting in the hotel room. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and dove right in with one last frantic hope that I wouldn’t drown in the stream of consciousness I was about to enter.

“I would…get off the table and get on my knees in front of you. Then I’d stroke you…your cock, I mean, stroke your cock through your pants, maybe rub my cheek against it, because that soft fabric has been driving me crazy all night, it looks like it would feel really good against my skin. And then I’d unzip your pants. No, I’d unbuckle your belt and unfasten the pants first of course, and
then
I’d unzip them. And probably unbutton a few of your shirt buttons, so I could push it out of the way because you wouldn’t want to get come on it, it’s a beautiful shirt. And— Are you wearing boxers, Sir?”

“Huh?” Jack said a little stupidly. I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, his mouth open, his eyes blinking too rapidly.

“Boxers? Or boxer briefs? Sir?”

“B-boxers. Navy blue cotton,” he replied, still looking a bit stunned. I just nodded and closed my eyes again.

“So then I’d slide your hard, gorgeous cock out of your boxers and rub my face against it for just a little while, because even when it’s really hard the skin is
so
soft and I love the way it feels. I love everything about your cock, actually, I love sucking it and licking it and kissing it. I especially like kissing the end and closing my lips right around the head and running my tongue along the vein. And the…the
frenulum
, right? Underneath? But for now I think I’d start with just a few licks, right at the tip, just to taste those few drops I know would be there already. And then I’d press it up toward your stomach and start kissing and licking my way along the underside where it’s sensitive. Once I got to the base…well, your boxers would be in the way, so sucking your balls would be out of the question. I’d probably just play with them through your pants, just teasing a little.

“I think next I would work my way back up to the top and start working you with my hand a little, and then just when you’d gotten into that, I’d start taking your whole cock into my mouth, but
very
slowly, and I’d work my tongue against you while I was doing it, until—”

“
Stop
,” Jack gasped.

I looked at him—he was staring at me still, like a man who hadn’t seen a woman in twenty years. Vaguely it dawned on me that I must have done a bit
too
well, just about the time he’d pocketed my toy and dragged me back to the sidewalk so fast I nearly fell off my shoes in the effort to keep up.

“Sir,” I queried breathlessly, “that was okay, right?”

“Just…
God
. Just don’t…yes, it was okay, it was more than okay. Just don’t talk anymore.”