L.A. Fire (16 page)

  “Very well, sir. It was a
pleasure, as always, to serve you.” Then he turned to me and added, “And you as
well Madame.” I flashed him a smile, and he beamed at me, then disappeared.

  Julian took care of the bill,
grabbed the take out package, and quickly got to his feet. “Come,” he said,
pulling my chair out for me and holding out his hand.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “For a wild ride in the canyons.”

***

  Julian wasn’t kidding. As soon as
he had me safely in the Ferrari, he revved the engine, and took off racing down
the street. He let the windows down, and the humid Los Angeles heat filled the
car. My hair started whipping in the wind created by the speed of the car, and
I could smell that seductive mint and honey scent of eucalyptus in the air. A
gang of motorcyclists raced past the Ferrari, all of them clad in black
leather, and one rider with a red helmet and a goatee flipped Julian the bird
and grinned wickedly before leaving us in the dust. I saw a glint of
competition flare in Julian’s eyes. “I could make those guys eat my dirt,” he
said. “But there are ladies present. I must retain a sense of decorum.”

  I threw my head back laughing. “I
think a sense of decorum went out the window the moment you told me what you
wanted to do to me with your cock.”

  I crossed my legs, and the high
slit of my dress exposed most of my thigh. The flash of skin caught Julian’s
eye, and he groaned. “That dress is going to make me crash the car,” he said.

  “Do you want me to cover up?” I
asked, my tone slightly coy.

  “No,” he said sharply, then
reached over and ran his fingers along my exposed skin. My sex clenched hard,
and my skin turned to goose bumps. Pleased by my physical response, he lifted
his hand back to the gear shift. I closed my eyes for a few long moments,
enjoying the feel of the warm air caressing my face. When I opened them again,
the blaring lights and noise of the city were far behind us. We were starting
to climb up into the canyons.  As Julian drove the car up, up, up,
twisting and turning his way along the steep and narrow road, I breathed
deeply, savoring the smell of wild sage permeating the thick, steamy night air.
Finally, when we were almost as high as we could go, Julian pulled off to the
side of the road. “Come on,” he said. “The view up here is incredible.”

  When I emerged from the car, my
eyes adjusted to the dark, and I saw a thick railing in front of us, and,
beyond it, a breathtaking view of Los Angeles. The sky was dark, and starless,
but down below I could see the glittering city; a million specks of pulsing
white light, throbbing and vibrant. At the edge of the horizon, I could just
make out the ocean, an undulating black mass in the distance. From somewhere
not too far off, I heard the cry of a lone coyote, and then it’s echo through
the canyons.   

  Julian wrapped his arm around my
shoulders, and pulled me close. “Nice view,” I said, smiling up at him. His
eyes were soft.

  “This is my favorite place to
come when I need to clear my head,” he said. His eyes focused off somewhere in
the distance. “Whenever my head gets too cluttered with work, I come up her for
a change in perspective. It’s a reminder that my problems are so small in the
greater scheme of things.”

  I nodded, then wrapped my arm
around his waist. “I have a place like that, too,” I said. “Whenever life
becomes too overwhelming, I escape to the Santa Monica pier and spend literally
hours staring out at the ocean.”

  A brief glint of curiosity
sparked in Julian’s eyes. “The pier?” he said. “That’s not too far from my
beach house. I bike to the Santa Monica pier most mornings. Sometimes at night
as well.”

  “We may have passed each other
without even knowing it,” I said.

  Julian’s eyes flashed with
something I couldn’t place. “There’s no way that happened,” he said. “I would
have noticed you. And probably followed you home.”

  I let out a sharp laugh. “That’s
called stalking, Julian, and it’s illegal.”

  “Illegal is hitting you over the
head with a bat, and then dragging you to my home. I would have just insisted
that you give me your number.”

  The air was deadly still, and I
could suddenly make out the sound of the crashing waves. Julian turned around
to face me, and tilted up my chin. Desire snapped into his eyes, and he slid
his hand along my leg, up to the slit of my dress. The feel of his warm, strong
hand against my bare leg, so close to my clenching sex, made me tremble with
need. My arms slid to his waist, and I pulled him close. Up against him, I
could feel his cock straining for me through his suit pants. He let out a low
groan. “I’ve been craving that hot mouth of yours all night, and now I’m going
to take it,” he said. The next instant he swooped down for my mouth, gently
taking my lower lip between his teeth. Then his mouth was fully on mine,
crushing my lips, and I felt his fingers slide up my leg, and skirt against the
edge of my lace panties. His tongue dipped in my mouth, teasing me, savoring
me, and coaxing the spark of my desire into full flame. I slid my mouth down
along his jaw line, feeling the pleasant burn of his slight stubble against my
cheek. I kissed his strong, muscular neck, and felt the vibration of his moan
from deep inside his throat.

  And then his finger slid under
the fabric of my panties, and pushed inside me. “God, Sarah, you’re so wet,” he
said, stroking me leisurely. I gasped, and arched my back at his touch.
Pleasure gleamed in his eyes, and he held me steady, his free hand cupping my
buttocks. He pulled his finger out, and expertly parted my folds until he was
pressing gently against my clit, massaging it in circles, then in strokes. I
moaned again, and started writhing in his arms. He held me steady, close, so
that I could feel the heat coming off his body, and see the look of victory in
his eyes. He had me right where he wanted me. And I wanted to be nowhere else.
I was ready for him. I slid my hand over the bulge in his pants, and then
frantically tried to unzip him. He pulled his finger out of me, and stilled my
hand. “No, Sarah. This is about you right now.”

  I shook my head, frantic, feeling
suddenly deprived of that expert finger between my folds. “I want you, now,” I
said. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want you inside me.”

  His eyes twinkling gleefully, he
picked me up, carried me over to the car, and sprawled me out on the hood. It
was still warm. Then he slid over me, looking down at me with a predatory gaze.
He roughly pulled down the top of my dress, and freed my breasts. As he tugged
gently on my nipples, then worked them over expertly with his tongue, I felt waves
of pleasure crash through me. I thrust my hips shamelessly against him, then
pulling his crotch down against mine. “Take me,” I managed to say, my voice
hoarse with desire.

  “Not yet,” he said, hiking up my
dress. With on one swift jerk, he ripped my panties right off of me. Suddenly I
was lying on the hood of his car, completely exposed, my stomach flexing with
anticipation. He slid his mouth down my belly, and inhaled deeply as his face
hovered above my pussy. I was panting, breathless, and so so needy.

  “Please, Julian,” I said,
squirming slightly. He stilled my hips with his hands, then separated my folds
with his tongue. His tongue leisurely stroked my clit, then fluttered over it,
then stroked it again, building me up almost to the breaking point, and then
taking me down again. He continued to tease me relentlessly, taking me right to
the brink, but not letting me go over the edge. I was panting, quivering,
aching for a release. “Please, Julian,” I whimpered again.

  I could feel him smiling. “What
is it that you want, Sarah? What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to make me come!” I
screamed, then started squirming again. He held me tight, then plunged back
between my folds, sucking and licking and flicking furiously with his tongue
until a jolt of euphoria shot through me, and I cried out. As I pumped my hips,
Julian held onto my buttocks and kept working my clit with his tongue until
another orgasm roiled through me. Wave after wave of ecstasy pounded through my
blood, until I was a whimpering, quivering mess, lying utterly spent in
Julian’s arms, on the roof of his car. As my breathing slowed down, I heard
another shrill cry of a coyote, and became aware of the crash of the waves far
below. Julian pulled down my dress, and shifted back up to me, placing long,
lingering kisses in the dip above my collarbone.

  “I love this part of your body,”
he said, tracing the delicate bones with his finger. “I’ve been wanting to kiss
you here all night. There’s something so sensuous and elegant about it. It was
driving me crazy at the restaurant.”

  I cupped his face between my
hands and gave him a slow, lingering kiss. He smiled at me, looking very
pleased with himself. “Come on,” he said, reaching out for my hand. “We’re
going back to my place. It’s late, and we haven’t had dinner yet. You must be
starving.”

  “Hey,” I said, pulling him back.
I reached for the waist of his trousers, and gave him a sultry look. “It’s your
turn.” I slid my hand lower, and could feel that the bulge was still there. His
eyes darkened, and his hissed his breath in through his teeth, then grabbed my
hand and pulled it away. “Not yet.”

  I let out a long sigh. “I’m not
going to go home leaving you unsatisfied, Julian. A relationship is two-way.
Give and take.”

  “Who said anything about you
going home?” he asked, rubbing his finger along my hand. “You’re coming to my
place, and you’re staying the night.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll come for
dinner. And hopefully more sex after dinner. But then I’m going home.”

  His expression darkened. “I want
you in my bed. For the whole night.” He reached over and stroked my cheek.
“We’re not fuck buddies, Sarah. We’re getting into a relationship. And people
in a relationship sleep over.”

  I suddenly felt very
uncomfortable. This night so far had been incredible. There was no question
that Julian drove me wild, and he knew exactly how to push my buttons. But this
night had also been almost too intense. I’d already shared so much of myself
with Julian, and my instinct now was to pull back. Get some breathing space and
mull everything over.

  “I’m not letting you leave,”
Julian repeated. “Because if you leave, you’ll have too much time to think, and
then you’ll run scared.”

  I looked at him in shock. He’d
known me for such a short time, and already he could read me perfectly. “I’m
just going to be needing a bit of space, Julian.”

  “Space for what?”

  “To sort things through.”

  “You can sort things through
curled up in my arms.”

  I decided to change tactics. “We
both have to work tomorrow, and I can’t go to work in this dress.”

  “No problem,” he said. “We’ll get
up early, and I’ll drive you home so you can shower and change.”

  “But– ”

  “No buts,” he said, putting his
finger on my lip. “You’re sleeping over. Now come.”

***

  “We’re here,” Julian said,
pulling his car into a driveway at the back of a towering Modernist house.
“We’ll enter through the front,” he said, taking my hand and leading me through
an alleyway to Ocean Front Walk. As soon as we emerged from the alley, I was
hit with the powerful smell of brine in the air, an expanse of beach stretching
out before me, and the waves crashing loudly less than a hundred feet away.
“Welcome to Venice Beach,” he said, taking my hand and leading me up a series
of winding steps to a rectangular shaped house made mostly of glass and steel.
His neighbors’ houses also had an avant garde design. On the left there was a
long and narrow purple stucco house with circular windows and a Romeo and
Juliet balcony, and on the right, a white multilayered structure with blue
windows.   

  As soon as I entered Julian’s
house, I was totally blown away. The interior had very high ceilings, giving the
house an airy feel, with mahogany beams to add warmth, and a series of
skylights to let in the sun in the morning. One entire wall of the living room
was made of blue tinted glass, and provided a breathtaking view of the ocean.
Centered in the living room was a large designer glass table with legs made of
thick eucalyptus logs, which sat right in front of a long sectional couch made
of soft, brown leather. 1950s Oriental pottery gave the room a splash of color,
and a Louis XV mirror added a classy touch. Off the living room was a set of
winding stairs that Julian told me led to the bedrooms and library.