Capri's Fate (3 page)

The room grew uncomfortably warm and as I fondled Kat, I wondered why someone didn't turn up the air conditioning.

The norm being rub this, squeeze that, then fuck, I take time to give attention to my labia, so I thought the same consideration should be given to my best friend. Hers was soft, warm and plump from excitement. I stroked and gently pinched her flesh, working my way up to her aroused clit. Soft moans emanated from her throat. I circled my finger around her button while my other hand grabbed the lube lotion and poured more on.

The slick liquid added a musky scent, which triggered a heat deep inside me.

With tiny flicks of my fingers and pressure strokes from my thumb, it didn't take long for her body to react. She let out a low, long moan and I guessed she was having an orgasm. I softened my stroke, but he kept pounding her. Two of the other participants came at the same time. Their grunts and moans filled the air. I stepped away, grabbed a tissue, wiped my hand and sat in a seat in the back row.

Kat wiggled her way of out the group. Another female hurried across the floor to find a spot while people rearranged themselves. As Kat dressed, she spotted me and walked over. "That was so…." She tucked her blouse into her slacks. "Somebody came along and played with my clit and
it made me explode."

I tapped my watch. "Time to go home." I stood and led her to the lounge.

I don't know why I paused, but just before exiting the Convention Center, I glanced around the entrance. Nothing attracted my attention
, but a shiver scuttled between my shoulder blades.

Kat stepped by me and whistled for a cab.

As I settled next to her, my gaze drifted back to the brightly lit building.

I wondered if the voice was going to follow me home. Can you be stalked by a voice in your head?

Chapter Two

I tossed my Erotic Notions' purchases onto the high back chair in the corner, kicked off my shoes and dropped my clothes in a trail to the bathroom.
What a weird night. What I need is a
long, hot bath
.
I lit the scented candles on the ledge surrounding my tub, turned on the water and poured in some chamomile bath oil.

Clicking on the sound system, I selected
Bach in the Bath
and turned the volume to low. Settling into the warm liquid luxury, I rested my head on my seashell shaped headrest and closed my eyes. "Ahhhh!"

Af
ter my self-indulgent soak, I slipped into my pajama bottoms when my
so-not-me
purchases caught my attention. I bought a bustier.
What was I thinking?
A giggle threatened to escape my mouth. Removing it from bag, I skimmed my fingers over the ruby-colored silk feeling the firmness of the stiffening rods in the bodice. I traced my finger along the pattern of the black lace trim.
Yikes. Look at all those hooks and clasps
. The garters clinked as they swung together.

Forget it. There's no way I can put this thing on.
I poked a finger through each peek-a-boo hole.
Oh, this is just too embarrassing. What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking. I was drunk.

I tossed it onto the bed then stepped toward my dresser. Something red caught my attention in the mirror. I turned my head and watched the bustier slip off the bed.

Hmph. Must have missed
. I picked it up and dropped it on the duvet, then turned to get to my pajama top. The mirror's reflection arrested my gaze as again the rubicund, silk teaser slid over the edge of the bed and tumbled to the floor.

What the…?

I glanced down at the crimson pile. "Are you trying to tell me to put you on? Oh crap, now I'm talking to my clothes."

What the hell, why not? Nobody
's going to see me. And I've always wanted to try one on.

I let it dangle off my fingertips for a few moments while I pondered how I was going to fasten it. I didn't think yoga class made me flexible enough to reach behind and attach each hook. In a flash of brilliance, I put it on backward, hooked up the clasps and jerked it around until the back was in the back.

Next, I adjusted, what were at the moment, my squished boobs to get them comfortably into the push-up cups. Then, I wiggled my hand into a very crowded space and manipulated my nipples into the peek-a-boo holes.

When I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I giggled. My sexy red bustier with the peek-a-boo bra looked adorable with my sleeping kitten
, flannel pajama bottoms.
Hey, gotta like flannel pjs. They keep me warm on cold winter nights
.

"Take your pants off."

I spun around. "What the…?"

"Take your pants off. Put this on." My drawer slid open and
a black lace thong floated over to my bed.

Okay, I'm way drunker than I thought.

"I followed you home."

"There are stalker laws."
Listen to me. I'm threatening a voice. A voice that can move underwear.

"Change, get a glass of wine and I'll explain."

Not that I jump when ordered around by an invisible voice, but the idea of a large glass of a very good wine sounded appealing. After returning from the kitchen, I hauled off my flannel bottoms and stepped into my black thong. I tugged at the back strap and shifted my butt. I'd like to meet the person who thought sticking a string up your butt crack was a good idea.

Settling back onto my bed, I sipped my 2006 Zaca Mesa Viognier. My favorite little wine with peachy undertones.
I get all giggly when I say that – peachy undertones.

I looked about the room, took another sip and waited. Nothing happened. No voice echoed in my head. No more thongs floated across the room.
I'm never going to tell Kat about this.

As I put my glass down, the lights dimmed, music played—from somewhere—and the bed covers pulled back
— even though I was sitting on them. A warm breath drifted across the back of my neck. Goose bumps ran up my spine and, embarrassingly, my nipples stood at attention. Flattering myself that I was handling this all very well, I picked up my wine glass, took a big gulp and decided to grab the bull by the horns – metaphorically speaking. "Are you a ghost? Because I don't believe in ghosts."

"No, I'm a Fate."

"You mean like, let the Fates decide?"

"Yes, that would be the best interpretation for you."

I tilted my head from side to side trying to figure out where his voice was coming from. "But the Fates are women. I know my Roman? Greek? mythology."

"That is mythology. This is reality."

Lifting one eyebrow, I snorted. "I'm talking to the air and you're calling it reality?"

"The three Fates were children of the original power."

I took another sip of wine. "So you're a child of the Fates?"

"Go forth and multiply."

"You're just full of one-liners."

"Humans do not believe in us and yet they call upon us to make decisions for them. 'Fate made me do it'. 'Let the Fates decide.' 'May the force be with you.'"

"That's Star Wars."
Great, I've got a stalker Fate with a sense of humor.

"I heard that."

Shivers slither through me as tiny sparklike feelings tickled my neck.

"We're real. We've been around since time began. That first monkey who jumped out of a tree and walked on the ground, Fate made him do it. A cousin of mine, actually."

"You're kidding!"

"Yes, I am. You humans are so gullible."

I waved my arm about. "Can I touch you? See you?"

"You would not understand our form, but I can touch you." A wave of heat slid up my leg and rippled through my belly.

"Oooh!" When my breath returned, I asked the most logical question I could think of. "Why are you here?"

"Earlier tonight you said, 'Let's see what the Fates have in store'. Well the Fates have nothing in store for your friend, but for you…"

I picked up my wine glass and took a couple of good gulps.

"Lay back and relax. I promise I won't hurt you. I cannot. I can only provide pleasure."
Something—for simplicity's sake, call it his hand —caressed my right shin.

I reacted as if my
flesh had been burned–-but in a good way. It wasn't pain. Curiously, maybe a little bizarrely, but there was definitely a hint of wicked in the touch.

The same sensation scorched my left shin. Part of me needed to check if my flesh was flushed and blistered, but I couldn't move. I thought if I did, I would somehow break a spell. A bead of sweat dribbled down my neck.

With a movement as soft as the brush of a feather, both hands travelled up my thighs and stopped at my hips.

Ooh!

With a swift sweep, he skimmed my body, engulfing me in his touch. My flesh tingled as goose bumps speckled my arms. The only sound I could hear was my breath as the pants escaped my lips. I opened my eyes. My body glowed from the heat.

An icy snake-touch slithered from my hips to neck. As fast as the coolness touched my body, heat filled its place.

A feverish fondle on my breast preceded a frosty streak across my neck, followed by a sizzling trail along my spine and an icy tap on my inner thigh. I couldn't focus. My heart pounded in my chest. My breath caught in my throat only to be snatched away by the next gasp. A blissful wave surged through me as I slipped into relaxed darkness.

~ * * ~

My five-thirty a.m. alarm sliced through the silence in the room. I slapped at it until it was quiet. I tried to open my eyes. I really did. I rolled over and yawned. Just five more minutes.

When my eyelids flitted open, I focused on the clock, blinked then swore. Throwing back the covers, I started to jump out of bed
, but some kind of force pushed me back down. I tried again. "What's going on?"

A breakfast tray of coffee, toast, bowl of strawberries and the morning edition floated into the room
, settling itself beside my bed.

I rubbed my face then checked if the tray was still there. It was. "You still here?"

"Yes."

You mean last night was real?
I started to get up again but couldn't move. There were no ropes or chains, or anything delightfully kinky like that, securing me to the bed. There was just nothing. And it wouldn't let me get up.

I looked at the ceiling. "I have to get to work. I'm - like - three hours late. Christ! I had a meeting at—"

Was that a finger pressing on my lips to silence me? It had better be his finger and not something else.

Stifling the urge to swear or scream, I slapped at it. "Look, I really have to pee! Let me up."

The nothingness which held me in place vanished into thin air? I slipped one foot over the edge of the bed, reaching for the floor. The bare wood was cool against the sole of my foot. I scurried across the room, stopping at the doorway. "You aren't going to follow me into the bathroom, are you?"

He chuckled. I took that to mean no.

When I returned, I jerked open my closet door. Having a notion the bustier and black thong were not proper board meeting attire, I reached for my blue power suit. I was going to have to kiss ass for being late.

A hand rested on my shoulder and directed me to turn around. "Your assistant has been informed you are sick. Something you ate at dinner last night. He will deal with your schedule. Your afternoon appointments
have all called to cancel. So, it seems you're free for the day."

"I still have the Booker account to deal with and my desk is just a mess. I need to get to work." Pushing against the restraint, I failed miserably at returning to my closet. I stood next to my bed and the floating breakfast tray.
Coffee does smell good
.

"A dark roast blend. Beans from the sun-drenched soil of the
Hawaiian Islands."

I slipped my fingers into the coffee mug handle and lifted it off the tray. The aroma tickled my nose. One sip of the java brew made my eyelids close and sent a jolt of happiness through me. "So, you say all my afternoon appointments happened to cancel?"

"Yes."

"You did that?"

"The Fates can do almost anything."

I settled onto the bed while pulling the tray next to me. Picking up a strawberry, I inhaled its sweet scent. "Do you have a name? If you're going to hang around and I want to talk to you, shouting 'Hey you!' would be rude." I sunk my teeth into the seed-covered, rosy flesh.

"I am called Thall by the humans I've guided."

Swallowing the bite of strawberry, I asked, as casually as I could, "What do you mean the humans you guided?" I popped the rest of the berry into my mouth.

"I'm here to guide you sexually."

Yes, I almost spit the strawberry across the room.