One Night Only (22 page)

But even a girl who wants it can only take so much.

Someone had retrieved her trench coat. They propped her up and slid it onto her, moving her arms for her because she was
well beyond it. Kendrick left her hood on as he carried her to the car. He put her in the passenger's seat and gave her a towel, but she was far too tired and horny even to wipe herself. They'd take care of that once he got her home.

She heard faint voices outside—Kendrick uttering thanks, and slapping men on their backs for fucking his girlfriend. She felt her pussy trembling, twitching; how many times had she come? Too many. Too many to take. No sex would ever compare; she was sure of it. Except maybe the thank-you sex she'd have with Kendrick—that she intended to have with Kendrick, however he wanted and whatever he wanted, whenever, always, forever. He was golden to her in that moment: the man who had given her what she wanted. Finally.

There was plenty of night left. She'd later see
01:16:06
on the closing seconds of the raw videotape, as she was carried to the car soaked with come. She'd watch it over and over again, orgasming, buzzing herself with a vibrator or just rubbing fast with her hand. For a year, she'd watch her ravishment daily—with Kendrick and by herself. For a year after that, she'd watch it weekly. Then it would always be there, to remind her how much Kendrick loved her. Eventually it would be kept in a fireproof safe, to keep it away from their kids.

Would this get out some day and ruin her career?

She didn't really care. Scandal in Hollywood is cheap, and she was far too obscure to rate more than a line in a scandal sheet. One of the men would have to have recognized her before the hood went on, or put the pieces together afterward. And even if it ever did get out, she felt strongly that it would be worth it.

Haley Bennett had gotten what she wanted—a chance to give the performance of a lifetime.

And didn't all actors, ultimately, perform for an audience of one?

 

 

 

 

 

L
ouise sat down on the worn sofa next to Maria and crossed one leg over the other. She set her mocha grande on the small rickety table at her elbow.

Freedom of Espresso didn't have the most comfortable furnishings, but they made the best mochas in Renton. Louise always tried to indulge at least once on those rare occasions that she ventured back to the Seattle area.

“So, what have you been up to since I've seen you. Gracious, it's been years. Are you dating anyone?”

“Not exactly.”

At that moment, Louise noticed a tall, dark-haired man wearing an emerald-green linen shirt that emphasized a muscular chest and powerful arms. He stood near the end of the coffee bar a few feet away. His eyes ran the length of Louise's legs from the strappy sandals up her firm calves to where her tanned thighs disappeared under her shorts. His gaze continued upward taking in her narrow waist and the cleavage displayed
by her half-buttoned silk shirt.

She reached over with her left hand for her coffee cup. The man's eyes followed her movement and a smile played across his lips. He stepped to the side of the sofa, crouched down, and said in a soft voice impossible for anyone else to overhear among the coffee shop chatter: “I couldn't help noticing the ring you wear.” He looked at the gold triskelion on the middle finger of Louise's left hand and then up into her eyes. She found herself staring into the greenest pair she had ever seen. “May I assume you know the meaning of the emblem?”

Despite his quiet tone, his deep voice resonated through Louise. She nodded.

He reached out and traced the borders of the three interlocking patterns on the ring's face with one finger. “And that you wear it on your left hand deliberately?”

She nodded.

“Do you ever get involved with dominant males?”

Louise raised one eyebrow above the other.

He leaned closer and brought his lips near enough to her ear that she could feel his breath hot on her skin. “I am not submissive in any way, however I find strong, powerful women can be a real turn-on for certain”—he cleared his throat—“games. And I think you're very, very attractive.” He let his gaze linger on her breasts and the two tiny keys that hung between them on the gold chain around her neck.

Louise turned her head so she could whisper in his ear. She inhaled the scent of male musk unembellished with any artificial odors. “I find strong, powerful men can be a real turn-on for certain games and you're very attractive, as well. But, unfortunately I don't live here anymore, and I catch a flight early tomorrow morning for home.”

The man smiled, revealing an even row of white teeth. “I
don't want to interrupt your conversation any longer and I need to get back to the office for a quick meeting. But I would love to buy you a farewell dinner this evening. If I give you my phone number, would you call me when you're done here? I work around the corner and could return within a few minutes.”

Louise had planned to spend her final evening in town with her parents. She narrowed her almost black eyes a little. “If you give me your phone number, I'll call it later this evening. But I'm afraid I won't have time for dinner. A drink after, perhaps.”

He stood up, went to the counter, grabbed a napkin, scribbled on it, stepped back to the sofa and handed it to Louise. “This is my cell. I'd love to hear from you anytime before you leave town.”

Louise looked at the phone number, folded the napkin and tucked it into the breast pocket of her shirt.

“May I ask who will be calling me?”

“Lady Louise.”

He reached down, took her hand in his, brought it to his face and touched his lips to her ring. “Sir Peter so looks forward to hearing from Lady Louise.”

He rose and grabbed a paper cup from the end of the coffee bar. The bells above the door tinkled as he left.

Maria stared at Louise. “Whatever were you two whispering about? Was that someone from your sordid past?”

Louise shook her head. “No, just wishful thinking on my part.” She savored the complex chocolate and coffee mixture and wondered how Peter had picked up on her inconsistencies.

“So, I suppose there's no possibility of you hooking up with that guy later, falling in love and moving back up here?” Maria sipped from her clear plastic cup filled with ice and creamy Italian soda. “I've missed you.”

Louise laughed. “He's hardly my type.”

“Since when is gorgeous hunk of manhood not your type?” Maria tilted her head to one side. “And what did you mean when you said you were ‘not exactly' seeing anyone?”

Lowering her eyes to her cup to avoid Maria's gaze, Louise inhaled the fragrant steam. She and Maria had been best friends since high school. But she couldn't envision ever confiding that the preferred term for her current relationships was “in service” rather than “dating.”

“Let's just say that I'm not looking for anyone at the moment.” Even that wasn't completely truthful. Although two men competed daily with each other for the honor of fulfilling her every whim, the keys she wore were to the padlocks that kept their cocks encased in plastic. And sometimes she wanted more than a male who would lick her for hours on end or take her strap-on in his ass.

Louise knew it wouldn't be hard to sidetrack Maria if she encouraged her to talk about her own relationship. “Tell me about Jonathan.” By the time Maria had shared every detail of her life with her new beau, their allotted two hours had slipped away.

Louise negotiated her rental car back toward Bellevue. While waiting in traffic, she kept thinking about how strong Peter looked. During dinner, she managed to forget about him long enough to hold up her end of the conversation with her parents and brother. But as soon as the meal ended, she excused herself. “My flight leaves early, I need to pack and get some sleep. I'll probably be gone before any of you get up in the morning, so I'll say good-bye now.”

Once in her room, Louise pulled out the napkin and her cell phone. She dialed *67 before the number Peter had given her to mask her own.

“Good evening, this is Peter.” His deep voice resonated
through her and she imagined his hot breath caressing her neck.

“Hi. It's Louise.”

“My dear Lady, I'm so very glad to hear from you. I hope you can spare some time for me before you depart for destination unknown.”

Louise looked at her watch. “My flight leaves Sea-Tac in twelve hours. I need about half an hour to pack and another half an hour or so to drive to somewhere near there.”

Peter chuckled. “You do me great honor, dear Lady. May I be so bold as to book a room at the Hilton?”

“I'll meet you in the restaurant there in an hour.” Louise ended the call. Most of her things were already in her suitcase—the drawers in her parents' guest bedroom were full of their off-season clothing. She changed into her travel outfit: closed sturdy shoes, jeans instead of shorts, and a denim jacket over the silk shirt. Not exactly sexy, but practical. Retrieving her toiletries from the bathroom, she stuffed them into her oversized purse.

Her brother had already left for his home in Everett, and she could hear her parents settling in for the night. Louise unmade the bed so it would look slept in and snuck out the back door with her luggage. At the bottom of the hill, she hesitated. What was she thinking, sneaking out of her parents' house to drive to a hotel and meet a man with whom she had exchanged a couple of hundred words in a coffee shop? Yet she headed toward the freeway entrance rather than return to the house. She pulled into the hotel parking lot with just enough time to make a pit stop before sashaying into Spencer's.

The moment she entered, Peter jumped up from where he lounged in one of the overstuffed armchairs across from the host stand. He kissed her hand and the touch of his lips on her fingers sent a charge of electricity racing through her, leaving
every nerve tingling. Why had she decided to meet him in the restaurant rather than just go to a room? Oh, yes, negotiations. When he released her hand, she stuck both in her jacket pockets and stiffened her spine. They followed a waiter to a corner booth at the back of the dimly lit restaurant.

“Since you've already eaten dinner, how about dessert? They have a marvelous chocolate and fudge cake, perhaps with a glass of port?”

Louise smiled. “Chocolate cake yes, port no.” She slid into the booth, deliberately staying near the edge, forcing Peter to sit opposite her, a large round candle flickering in between them.

When the waiter returned, he set a large piece of chocolate cake centered in a pool of hot fudge with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on one side and whipped cream on the other, in front of Louise. Peter slid around the table to sit next to her and picked up one of the two spoons from the plate. “I was hoping you'd share.”

She nodded and dipped her own spoon into the cake, scooping it up with some of the fudge, ignoring the sweet white accompaniments.

“Besides,” he said, as he dug into the ice cream, “I don't think you want our discussion shared with the waitstaff.” He winked.

Louise let the velvety chocolate melt on her tongue and savored its richness.

“Perhaps you'd like to specify exactly what types of games you enjoy playing with dominant males?” His hot breath against her skin sent waves of desire through her.

Louise grounded herself with another mouthful of chocolate delectability before responding. “I don't like pain. Bondage is okay, if it's not too tight. I won't accept any form of humiliation play, you can't tear my clothing, and I do not do anything
submissive.” She turned to stare at him while she stuck her tongue out to lick the chocolate off her spoon with the tip of her tongue in slow sensuous strokes. “But you're bigger and stronger than I am, and I couldn't stop you from fucking my brains out, even if I tried.”

Peter's smile made his eyes sparkle in the candlelight. “I see. Any physical limitations or medical conditions I should be aware of?”

She shook her head.

“Anal?”

She grimaced and shook her head more vigorously.

“Oral?”

Louise sunk her teeth into another spoonful of cake. “I bite anything that goes into my mouth.”

“Gags?”

She shrugged. “Ambivalent.”

“Hair pulling?”

“No pain.”

He reached behind her and his fingers caressed the back of her neck. Then he bent them into her hair, and pulled her head back onto his shoulder. “This okay?”

Louise felt herself getting wet. She could never understand the pleasure she took in this type of sex. She controlled every facet of her world, including the lives of the two men in her service. But sometimes, when the right man made himself available, she just liked to let go and let him take over. She smiled.

Peter leaned over and captured her lips with his own. His tongue took possession of her mouth and she pushed closer. He pulled away, frowning. “I thought you would fight me off.”

She opened her eyes wider. “Not here.”

“Safeword?”

She couldn't think of anything and wondered if she would
be able to use one when he had already gotten her so aroused. “Chocolate cake.”

Hot breath on her ear made it difficult to parse his next words. “Then let's go upstairs.”

She nodded. Peter pushed her out of the booth, his hand still caught in her hair. He tossed a folded-up bill on the table, grabbed her purse and guided her through the nearly empty restaurant toward the elevators. When the doors slid shut, he pressed her against the wall with his body and kissed her again, hard. His hand slid inside the waistband of her jeans and his fingers found their way between her legs. He chuckled deep in his throat when he discovered how wet she'd become, his laughter rumbling in his chest.