The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing) (10 page)

“Oh my God.” The line to get in stretched all the way back to the parking lot.

“I’m willing if you’re willing,” he said.

She groaned. “It’s too darn hot to wait out in the sun like that.” She wore a sun visor sparkling with sequins that reminded him of the jacket she’d worn on the plane. They’d both slathered on sunblock, but her shoulders were covered only by the straps of her dress, her legs were bare, and there wasn’t a scintilla of shade to be had.

“Why don’t you wait over here under this tree until I get to the front of the line?”

“I can’t make you do that.”

“Getting your stamp is my mission.”

She cocked her head, lowered her voice. “You’re still going to get sex tonight even if I don’t get my stamp.”

Stepping close, he put a hand to his chest in mock affront. “I’m not just about sex, you know. There’s more to me than my big—”

She planted her palm over his mouth. “I like you for your big.” She didn’t add the next word. “But if you’re sunburned, you won’t be a lick of use to me.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and put his lips to her ear. “Oh baby, don’t you worry, I’ll give you plenty of licks tonight.”

“You’re damn right you will.”

“Pushy wench.”

“Let’s go up to the front and see if they’ve got the stamp pad. A lot of times you can get the stamp without actually having to go in.”

“That’s cheating.”

She clucked her tongue. “I’m here. I deserve the stamp.”

He led her to the front and asked a park ranger standing by entrance if they could get their stamp. The woman handed him a five-minute pass. “It’s in the gift shop.”

“This feels sneaky,” he said as they bypassed the line and headed across the wooden bridge leading to the fortress.

“This from the man who got us out of paying for the last night in our rooms at the hotel by charming the clerk.”

They skirted a couple with two strollers, then he tucked her beneath his arm. “The only woman I’m intent on charming is you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Has it worked?”

* * * * *

God, yes, she was charmed, totally. Spence was cocky and sure of himself, always had the right words, the perfect touch, and the most wicked smile that curled her toes. When he turned the force of it on her, hell, yes, she was charmed. She’d slept in Spence’s bed all night, let him take her over and over, even in the morning. Oh God, when he’d licked that whipped cream right off her pussy, she’d been combustible. Then she’d checked out of the hotel with him, a fact she hadn’t mentioned to Keith when she’d texted that she’d be looking at houses.

Maybe a better word was
obsessed
, since she did everything Spence wanted. But oh, how he’d treated her, how he made her feel; she needed more.

He’d taken her to five new subdivisions and toured the models with her. He’d gotten her stamp from the Castillo de San Marcos. He’d found the quaintest B&B and taken her to dinner in a quiet restaurant tucked away down a side street that had the absolute best lamb brochettes she’d ever tasted. Then they walked along the sea wall overlooking Matanzas Bay. The weather was perfect, the sun having long faded, the air still warm but not blazing.

“If there weren’t so many people,” he murmured into her hair, “I’d do you right here.”

She fisted her hands in his shirt. “You’re all sex, sex, sex.”

“Hell yeah, with a hottie like you.”

He’d stroked her ego all day, his hands, his words, his total concentration. “I am so ready to climb on top of you and have my wicked way,” she whispered.

“Then what are we waiting for. I can’t even put my hand up your skirt out here.” He pulled back, made a face. “Too many kids to traumatize.”

On the way back, he tugged her into a darkened doorway on a momentarily empty side street and kissed her breathless. They were like teenagers copping a feel whenever possible.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” he demanded, rubbing against her.

God, he was hard. And delicious. And all sex, sex, sex. “I want you to do me like you did the first night, with the vibrator and my legs in the air.” She stifled a giggle at the image, but damn, it had been good.

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

Back in the room, he stripped her down and pushed her onto the four-poster. The mattress was thick and high off the floor.

“We need a little breeze in here.” Shirtless, he opened the balcony doors, and a wave of air brushed her naked body. Her nipples tightened.

“Someone’s going to hear me.” She’d want to scream, she knew it.

He shoved down his shorts, his cock springing free. “Maybe I should gag you.”

“Then I won’t be able to tell my husband what you’re doing to me.”

“Fuck your husband.” He gave a mock growl—at least she thought it was mock—and crawled naked across the bed. He maneuvered between her spread legs and pulled her thighs over his. “Look at that pretty pink pussy.” A thumb to her clit, he started a slow, sweet massage.

She moaned for him. Her phone, her camera, the vibrator, the lube, and the condoms were all on the bedside table.

He put the vibrator in her hand. “Use it for me. I get so fucking hard watching you.” The harshness of need had entered his voice.

Turning the base on, she set it to her clit, the vibration accentuating the slow burn he’d already started with his touch. “Stroke yourself. I want to watch you, too.”

He seemed to take her out of herself, make her want newer, kinkier things, acts she’d never tried. Mutual masturbation was somehow sexier in this moment than caressing each other.

“Fuck, that’s gorgeous,” he muttered. She loved the way his language turned filthier the deeper they went.

His cock was huge in his fist. He didn’t simply stroke up and down, but twisted and turned, palming the tip, swirling drops of pre-come.

She hummed her pleasure, her hips starting to move on their own. She locked her ankles at the small of his back.

“Look at you,” he said softly, seduction in his voice. “All spread out with a man between your legs and using a toy on your pretty little clit. I want to come on you, smooth it all over your skin, smell it on you, lick it off.” His hand moved faster.

“I want you in me. You can come on me later.” Because there would be a later. He had the stamina of a man fifteen years younger than he was, and this was their last night. He was going to take advantage of it, she was sure.

“You want me to fuck you now, baby?” He leaned forward, bracing himself with one arm, and stroked hard, the backs of his fingers brushing her.

“Yes. You’ve been teasing all day. I need it bad.” All those touches had stoked her fire.

“I’ll fuck you,” he whispered, his eyes bright above her. “I’ll make you come so hard you forget everything. Then I’m going to come on you. Because I want to fuck you later with the scent of my come all over your skin.”

It was so elemental, like he was staking a claim on her body with his very essence. “Yes. Do it now.”

There was no playing this time. He simply rolled on the condom, held her butt in his hand, centered his cock at her entrance, and thrust. She almost screamed, it was so good. There was no pain of intrusion, even without lube. She was far past the need for it.

He drew her legs up his chest, held her ankles to his shoulders, and began a slow, steady pump that drove her mad. Her legs together with the vibrator buzzing intensified the sensations.

“Oh God, oh God, I’m going to scream. I can’t stop.” She chanted dirty words to keep her mouth busy, but good Lord, the things he made her feel.

Then her phone rang.

“Don’t stop,” he ordered.

She wanted that climax more than anything, but the phone went on incessantly. Until she grabbed it, punched the button, and put it to her ear simply to shut it up.

“Ohgodohgodohgod.” The syllables were one long word.

“Is he fucking you?” Keith asked, his voice harsh, excited.

“Yesyesyesyes.” It was the only way she could talk. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrated on the voice in her ear, Spence inside her, the quake of her legs, the buzz of the vibrator, and the heat in her core threatening to burst.

“Is it good, baby?”

“Sogoodsogoodsogood.” She gasped, needing a breath. She was so close, right there, almost, almost…

Spence grabbed the phone. “We’re busy. Call back later.”

Then he threw the phone. And Zoe climaxed in an explosion of colored lights.

Chapter Nine

Spence wanted what he wanted, and he didn’t care if her husband called again. This was his moment, and he wasn’t sharing her. Her body clamped around him, worked him as she came, damn near drove him to the edge. Up to this point, he’d given her the slow ride she needed, but with her climax upon her, he drove deep and hard and fast. Until the penultimate moment, until there was just the feel of her around him, until he was just flesh and she was his heat. Then he withdrew, tore off the condom, and came with a roaring in his ears. He stroked his cock until every last drop drenched her belly. Only then did he collapse beside her, their legs tangled.

“God,” she whispered.

“Fuck,” he punctuated. Cracking an eyelid, he put his fingers to the puddle on her stomach. There was something so damn primeval about his come on her. Slowly, he spread it over her.

“It’s warm,” she said, her eyes still closed.

“Your skin’s hotter.” She was smooth and soft. Moonlight glistened in the pool on her belly.

He massaged his seed into her breasts, twirled it around her nipples, pinched. She moaned. He creamed her upper chest with come, scooped up a dollop for the hollow of her throat.

“Don’t ask me why, but that feels good,” she murmured.

“It’s a youth serum, I’m told.”

“Then give me more.”

“You don’t need it. You’re perfect.” Leaning in, nose to her belly, his scent was everywhere on her, owning her. “Good,” he whispered. “Lick it off.” He put his hand to her mouth.

Eyes open, gaze locked with his, she sucked each finger, then licked his palm. Christ, he wanted inside her again. Now.

But he would wait, savoring this easy, quiet moment.

Until it was broken by her phone. Spence cursed under his breath as she answered.

“Hello…yes.” She looked at him, grinned. “My husband says you’re a cocky asshole.”

“I totally agree. Especially when someone’s interrupting my orgasm.”

She scoffed softly. “You weren’t having an orgasm. I was.”

“Same difference.” When she came, she gripped him so tightly he couldn’t help letting go and falling straight down into ecstasy with her. Or was that straight up?

“He wants to know if you took pictures.”

Spence flopped down on the pillow beside her. “Tell him I was busy. You’re a handful.” He stroked her breast, tweaked her nipple.

She gasped, but when she spoke, it was obvious he hadn’t caused it. “I’m not a slut.” She paused, listening, then looked at Spence. “He says I’m a dirty slut, and I need abusing.”

He sucked her nipple hard, and this time the gasp was all for him. “You’re a dirty little slut, and that’s a term of endearment,” he answered softly so her husband wouldn’t hear.

“Yes, honey,” she said into the phone, “he agrees I’m a slut.”

Trailing his fingers down her belly, dipping into the remainder of his come on her skin, he tunneled between her legs and rubbed her with it, making her squirm.

“He wants you to force your cock down my throat again the way you did in that picture the other night.” She sighed softly, her thighs falling apart. “Yes, I liked it.”

He’d loved it. Her mouth on him. There was nothing pornographic in that photo. His cock in her mouth was a thing of beauty. Her husband didn’t appreciate her. But Spence did. She was dirty and slutty for him when he wanted her to be, but she was all elegance and class the rest of the time. A perfect combination.

“I’ll suck him if you want me to.” She made a soft sound, which could have been agreement to something her husband said, or it could have been for Spence’s touch between her legs. He put his tongue to her clit, and there was no doubt her new sound was a moan.

“Oh God. He’s licking me.” She puffed a couple of breaths. “It’s pretty good.”

Pretty good? He gave her his full attention, tasting the sweetness of her pussy mixed with the saltiness of the come he’d rubbed into her.

“Oh, oh,” she sang out. “He—” She stopped, gulped air, tried to finish. “My husband wants”—she sucked in a breath, let it out in a long
aahh
—“he wants to lick me after you’ve come in, lick me clean.” She moaned, ending on a long sigh that could have been a yes.

The guy was kinky, but Spence had to admit their mixed flavors were a piquant blend. He could have licked her clean, too. But he wouldn’t have shared her the way her husband did. Even if he couldn’t get it up, he would have licked her like this, would have made her shudder and shimmy against the bed, made her cry out his name.

Instead she cried out, “Oh God, Keith, that’s good.” As if her husband was making her come. Her legs quivered and she shoved the fingers of her free hand through his hair, held him close to her, rode his face as she climaxed.

Spence didn’t like her husband’s name on her lips when she came against his mouth. He was hot and hard again, and he didn’t want her husband listening in while he had her. Not here. This was
their
place, not the hotel. Not her husband’s domain.

“He’s going to make me fuck him again.” Pause. “He says ‘Fuck, no, you can’t have another picture.’” She laughed as she lied; Spence had said no such thing. “Yeah, totally. A cocky asshole.” She was grinning down at him. “And he says you can’t listen in either…He wants the phone…No, I’m not giving it to him…He—” Then she punched End. She pursed her lips. “So I’m a dirty little slut, huh?”

Her lies elated him, and he smiled, the devilish smile, the one that seemed to raise her temperature a couple of degrees. “I told you it’s a term of endearment. My sweet, perfectly dirty, absolutely sexy, and extremely hot little slut.”

“Well.” She preened. “That’s better. Now clean up the condom and fuck me again.”