Encounters (The Alpha Stranger) Book 1 (3 page)

I take a quick shower in the bungalow shower. By the way, this was not a good idea. The longer I stay in this place, the more I realize that I live in a crap hole apartment. I jump into my Honda and get back to Culver City at a little after two. I open the door and thankfully find the living room empty. Good, my roommate is asleep. I don’t need her to see me right now. I go to the fridge and grab a small bottle of Gatorade. As I open the bottle, the light turns on. My roommate Deb is staring at me. “You got lucky!” she says.

How the fuck does she know?! I play it coy. “Maybe.”

“You have that post-orgasmic glow.”

I meekly put the cap on my drink and head to my room. As I pass Deb she says to me, “Looks like your evening was a lot more interesting than mine.”

Yeah, if she only knew!

***

I thought I would be beat. It’s 9:15 a.m. and there is a spring in my step as I get off of the elevator to my receptionist job. I see all of the people walking into the office with me and I am the only one who is smiling. I have this dirty little secret that makes me feel like the most exciting person in the building. As I watch all the women make their way into the office, I notice them all do a double take on my face. Damn, I think all the girls know I got fucked last night. The guys are none the wiser. Notice I use the term guys. Because that’s what they are. They are immature grown boys. None of them could rock my world like that dashing, masculine alpha stud that used my ass for target practice.

As the morning wears on, I begin to feel this strange sensation - I am getting horny. Oh wow. I have never been this turned on before! Every other minute, I’m thinking about my unknown lover’s broad chest, deep voice and flat stomach. He has become such an obsession that I find myself slow to answer the phones at my desk. I better keep my act together. The last thing I need to do is lose my job over a casual fuck buddy!

After lunch, I begin to watch the clock. I am hoping and praying that the handsome stranger has a new message for me. I want to meet him so bad. 2:00. 3:00. 4:00. When 5:00 rolls around, I begin to get really wound up. I pace around the reception lobby and start chewing gum like a smoker going through nicotine withdrawal. A few people start to leave the office. I would like to get the fuck out of here. Alas, my shift does not end until 6:00. When 5:50 rolls around, I am ready to dart out of the office.

“Carrie. Can you come with me?” the office manager asks.

Oh, what the hell?! Am I going to have to stay late? I follow my office manager to one of the conference rooms. As I walk inside the windowless room, my heart begins to sink. The company is having a new business presentation tomorrow morning and they need people to help set-up the presentation boards. It looks like I’m going to have to stay until at least 6:30. Drat!

6:45. I am finally released from the cruel confines of the windowless conference room. I dart to the elevators and head down to the parking garage. The long shadows cast by the downtown LA buildings tell me that I am leaving later than usual. Well, at least I am paid hourly. Those extra 45 minutes should help with the gas money. I get to level three and walk towards my Honda. As I make my way to my humble vehicle, I see a little piece of paper tucked under the driver’s side windshield! The mysterious stranger is back!

I run up to my car and open the note. “
10 PM. Shutters on the Beach. Santa Monica. Be there.
” Damn right, I’ll be there. Shutters on the Beach is one of those ritzy hotels located right on the sand in Santa Monica. I may not know much about the stranger but I do suspect the man has cash. First the Chateau Marmont. Now Shutters on the Beach. Reservations like that don’t come cheap!

I then notice something else on the windshield, a key card. I look at the inscription on the card -
Shutters on the Beach.
Oh well, the handsome stranger is kind enough to get me a hotel key this time. Perhaps our relationship is getting a little more formal. Oh please. I get into my car and slap myself on the face. I have to remember that he isn’t my boyfriend. The last thing I need to do is delude myself into thinking that this is something more than it is - an anonymous booty call.

I drive home wondering what I will wear. A little black dress would seem a little, I don’t know, slutty to wear in a hotel like Shutters on the Beach. Maybe I’ll wear something in white. I have a cute white dress that I haven’t worn since my vacation in Cabo. Dammit. If Deb sees me leaving at 10 .m., she is going to bombard me with more questions. I certainly can’t tell her the truth. She will think I’m nuts. This is definitely one of the times I wish I could afford to live on my own.

***

Alright, it’s 9:30 p.m. Since I’m on the Westside of LA, getting to Santa Monica should only take me about twenty minutes. I study myself in the bathroom mirror. The white dress does look cute on me. As I turn around to check my ass out in the mirror, I hear a knock on the door.

“Are you almost done?” Deb asks me.

“Yeah,” I say as I open the door. It takes my roommate less than two seconds to know something is up.

“Wow. You’re meeting up with your one-night stand again tonight?!” Deb says with a mischievous laugh.

“Oh, I can’t even explain what is going on,” I tell her.

“This is so unlike you. I’m supposed to be the wild one and I’m the girl who’s been stuck inside the apartment. You are going to have to tell me your secret.”

I want to spill the beans. But the whole situation is so bizarre. I guess I’m going to have to continue to play it coy. “Yeah, I’m meeting the same guy again. It’s a little weird.”

As I am walking out the door, Deb says the last thing I wanted to hear, “Oh my God. Maybe he’s married.”

Fuck! Why did she have to go there? “He is not married!” I insist.

“Are you meeting him at his place?”

“No.”

“Then he is married.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Do you even know his real name?”

I look back at my roommate. Checkmate. It’s true. I don’t know his name. But I know he is not married. The handsome stranger is too well dressed and has too much swagger to be a married man. Nonetheless, Deb is starting to make me wonder about this stranger. I fake a smile and tell my roommate, “He doesn’t fuck like a married guy.”

Deb just looks at me dumbfounded. I close the door and leave. Let her ponder my last response for the rest of the evening!

***

I make the quick drive over to Santa Monica. When I get to Shutters on the Beach, my heart rate begins to quicken.
I can sense the stranger inside the hotel.
I can feel his danger. And I swear that I can smell his scent. I hand my Honda over to the valet, which will probably cost me more than what I will spend on gas for the week. The hotel has a nice understated elegance to it. I have seen the hotel during various walks on the beach. And I can’t imagine how much it would cost to get a room here. One thing is certain - I never thought I would be in this hotel waiting for a sexual rendezvous!

I look at the keycard and check the room: Number 402. I take the elevator up to the fourth floor. The elevator doors open and I head down the hallway to meet my mysterious lover. I find Room 402. Just as I am about to slide in the keycard and open the door, I decide to knock. After all, that would be much more polite than barging in on the man.

I knock. No answer. I knock again. After a few seconds, it becomes clear that my lover is either in the bathroom or he hasn’t shown up yet. That’s no problem. I’ll use this as an opportunity to make myself comfortable before we get down to business. I slide in the keycard and open the door. The lights are off. Instead the room is illuminated with the golden flicker of candlelight. How romantic! Perhaps my handsome stranger does have a soft side after all. I close the door behind me and see the balcony doors open. I walk out and see the white waters of the Santa Monica beach illuminated by moonlight. This view must cost at least $800 a night. Nice.

I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of the water crashing into the sands. I feel the cool ocean breeze brushing past my body. I am so relaxed that I kick off my shoes and feel my feet rub against the hardwood flooring off the balcony. As I listen to the ocean waves crashing, I hear another sound. I think I am hearing footsteps? I open my eyes. Suddenly, a large forearm comes across my neck. I feel myself get lifted off of my feet. I am too scared to scream. I am carried back into the living room. Then I am taken to the bedroom and tossed down on the King size bed.

“Put your face into that pillow,” says the familiar voice of the mysterious stranger.

Wow. I have never been so scared and so turned on in my life. I do as I am ordered. “Spread out your arms and legs,” the stranger demands. Well, his wish is his command. I spread myself out on the bed. I feel those strong hands remove my clothes from my body. Now, I am naked except for my white thong.

I feel the stranger put something around my neck. What the hell is that?! A collar?! I feel the stranger connect something to the collar. Then I feel a sudden yank around my neck. I pull myself up until I am on my knees. I look at myself in the bedroom mirror. And there I am, wearing nothing but a thong and a collar with a metal chain attached to it. My nipples are hard. My body is shaking. I look back at the stranger. He is wearing a pair of sunglasses. I can see myself in the reflection of the dark lens of the glasses. The stranger takes the chains on the leash and begins to rub them against my nipples. Oh, that feels nice.

My mysterious lover takes his tongue and runs it from my neck to my breasts. He nibbles on my breasts for a full minute. Damn, he is nice with his tongue. The stranger yanks me off of the bed and forces me onto my knees.

“Now crawl,” he demands. I crawl out of the bedroom. The stranger sits down on the sofa and demands that I, “undress him.” I remove my master’s shoes and socks. Then I reach up and unbuckle his belt. I pull it off. I undo his pants and pull them down. When I look up, I see a huge bulge poking up against his underwear. I take my hand and rub against that bulge. Dammit, I can’t wait one second more. I pull down my lover’s underwear and see that hard erect dick in all of its glory.

I pull apart the stranger’s legs and dive my mouth right on that dick. The stranger pushes my head down, forcing me to deep-throat him. It doesn’t take me long to suffocate on that dick. I try to pull away but the stranger is determined to see how much dick I could take. My eyes begin to roll into the back of my head. I swear I am losing consciousness. Right before I am ready to blackout, the stranger releases me, causing my body to collapse backward onto the coffee table.

I stare at the ceiling. My back is pressed against the glass coffee table top. The stranger slowly spreads my legs apart. He runs his tongue up my inner thigh. Oh fuck. I just lie there and receive his pleasure. I feel him running those strong hands up my body. He scratches at my flesh. I pull on his hair. I take the balls of my feet and run them across the stranger’s strong back. He is so going down there. And best of all, he’s in no hurry.

“Oh!” I moan out loud. The stranger grabs the chain and yanks on it. It seems as though every time I moan or say something he gets aggressive. I don’t mind. With a tongue like his, he could do whatever he wants to me.

The stranger pushes me up against the wall. He spreads my legs apart and slowly enters me from behind. I feel his teeth on my shoulders. I press the side of my face against the wall and enjoy the ride. He fucks me harder and harder. I begin to moan. The stranger puts his right hand across my face. I can’t breathe but I don’t care. When you are getting it this well, you can excuse the fact that your lover is slowly suffocating you to death.

My face turns red. My knees get weak. We both fall to the floor. The stranger lies on his back and makes me ride him. Of course, I have to face away from him. Hey, as long as I’m getting his dick, I don’t care which direction I am facing. And, as it turns out, riding my anonymous lover like this has an added advantage - he is spanking my ass with reckless abandon!

I hop up and down that dick, moaning my approval. The stranger pulls on the chain with every outburst. He certainly likes to correct me early and often. After a while, I have to weigh the benefits of moaning with the penalty of getting my neck snapped backward. Oh, what the hell, I could always wear a neck brace. The harder my lover fucks me, the more I moan. The more I moan, the more my lover chokes me with the chain. Something has to give.