Pleasure (3 page)

Helen made an appointment for the next afternoon and, with
shaking hands, ended the call and set the phone on the table. In the morning
she would go shopping for an appropriate dress for her adventurous evening.
She’d forgotten about looking for a dress online, because Sarah had called
about a problem with her laptop going all crazy. In ordering her a new laptop,
Helen had completely forgotten about looking for a dress and didn’t think about
it again until she was packing her overnight bag for Vegas.

Nervous energy kept Helen from sleeping soundly after she’d
made the call to the escort service. That, and being in a strange place kept
her wide awake. She rose and paced the floor, feeling like she was wound
tighter than a watch spring and needed relief.

She kept seeing
him
in front of her. His eyes on her
naked body, watching her, his hands reaching out to touch her. Her nipples
tightened painfully at the thought of those dark hands on her flesh. Touching,
caressing, teasing. Helen brushed her hands across her breasts and inhaled
sharply at the zip of pleasure-pain that screwed her nipples into tight
sensitive buds.

She was fixated on a man who got paid to please women. She
was turned on by watching him with another woman on the dance floor. The
powerful feelings he instilled inside her scared her.

Would she pay to have sex with him? Was she that desperate?

But somehow desperation didn’t seem to enter into the
equation. She wanted him. What type of services did he really provide? Prostitution
was illegal in Las Vegas, but what about outside the city limits? Helen knew
just a step away she could legally have what she seemed to yearn for—a man’s
cock filling her.

She pressed a hand to her pussy. The need was so intense.
Helen had to get some relief or she’d be all over him in a minute, begging for
it.

After slipping off the robe and her nightgown, she climbed
onto the bed. Reaching up, she again cupped her full breasts. For an old broad
she wasn’t in such bad shape. She’d always exercised, kept herself toned. She
participated in the local marathon to raise funds in support of breast cancer
every year. Was it so wrong to want a little carnal pleasure for herself?

She rolled the nipples between her fingertips, causing sharp
spasms of painful pleasure to rock through her. For too many years she’d gone
without. After being burned by Allen and his infidelities, she’d shied from any
kind of intimate commitment with anyone else. Trust didn’t come that easily for
her.

Why now? Why did she need this right this minute? What had
changed so drastically in her life to drive her to hire an escort? It felt like
emotions were shifting inside her. She had come to a point where she needed to
re-evaluate her life.

She slid her hands down over her ribs to her abdomen. She
feathered her fingers along her engorged lips encountering wetness, evidence of
her arousal, and she sucked in a breath.

It didn’t make sense, yet she had felt a wild rebellion
building inside her for some time. She fought against acknowledging it—so hard.
There were times when she stood in her office ready to scream.
I want out of
this life
. I want more.

Helen slid two of her fingers inside her vagina, through the
liquid heat instilled by passionate fantasy, and she gasped at the keen, almost
painful sensation. She circled her thumb over her engorged clitoris.

If Helen were honest with herself, she had enjoyed the
encounter, both in the dining room and in the bar. She’d liked watching him
with the woman. She’d fantasized about being that woman, yet some part of her
had enjoyed being apart from it, watching their interaction. Even in watching,
she had almost felt a part of them. Her body tingled at the memory.

What was happening to her? Her blood felt like molten lava
running through her veins, hot and pulsing. She was ready to explode.

Her fingers slid slickly in and out of her pussy, her hips
arching up from the bed, legs splayed wide. One hand returned to her nipples,
tugging and pinching, sending sharp sensations running through her, arrowing
downward.

Oh, God, she needed to come. In honesty, she had never felt
this level of passion in her life. She wanted Fallon between her legs. Her
fingers drove more forcefully inside her, pressing against her clit, pushing
her toward a searing pinnacle.

What was he doing right now? Was he fucking the beautiful
young woman? She could see two bodies lying naked on a bed. She fantasized
about what he would be doing to her. Was she a client, as Helen would be?

She could see his dark head between the woman’s creamy
thighs as he sucked at her clit, could feel his mouth on her own body. Oh, yes,
it would feel absolutely sensational. She could feel his tongue stabbing deep
inside her, lapping at the juices. Her fingers inside her body became more
frantic.

After he brought his partner to climax, he would rise above
her. Helen could feel the pressure of his cock at her entrance as she added
another finger to her own pleasuring. She arched upward on the bed, searching
for release. Breathless moans, gasps of need escaped.

What a hard, tight body he would have. All that muscle,
straining toward her, needing to pleasure her, and she felt her lips part as he
entered her. Hot, so very hot, and thick. And long. When he sank inside her, he
would fill her in ways no man had before. She drove her fingers deep, arched
and hissed as her body convulsed. She dropped her head forward, eyes closed,
feeling the orgasm drench her, her body uncoiling, collapsing back, exhausted,
yet momentarily satisfied.

Slowly she slid her fingers from her pussy. Her thumb
slipped over her clit and she shuddered at the touch.

It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. Helen opened her
eyes, staring into the darkness. It was as though she’d shed her own skin and
had moved into the body of someone else, someone she didn’t know.

Her mind was sluggish and hazy, replete with the climax. She
continued to lightly stroke over her inflamed lips, across her clit, and
echoing shudders passed through her, again and again.

Helen felt as if every inch of her body had come alive,
ready and eager to be awakened. It was dangerous. What would the people in her
hometown say if they knew what thoughts ran wild through her mind right now?
There were certainly no thoughts of her duties as mayor.

She turned onto her side. Gossip column headlines were made
from what she planned to do. If anyone ever found out, she would never be able
to hold her head up again. Not in a small town like Ferris. She could forget
about another term as mayor.

She squinted across the room toward the table where her cell
phone lay, highlighted by the light filtering in through the curtains. She
should cancel the appointment. What was she doing here? It was as though
someone else had taken control of her body, her mind, and Helen the mayor was
no longer in charge.

It was some other woman who took her place. She rolled onto
her back, and her hands again roamed over her body as though memorizing every
inch of skin, as the other woman, the wild one inside her again reasserted
control.

She was not going to cancel the appointment. She needed it,
needed
him
.

Fallon.

It was nothing more than a lustful attraction to an
attractive man. One she could have for a couple of hours, and then it would be
over with and she would return to being the untouchable mayor, having fulfilled
her fantasies.

Would it be enough? Or was she opening the original
Pandora’s Box by doing this?

It didn’t matter. Something inside her said that if she
didn’t go through with it, she would strangle, having all the life sucked out
of her, becoming nothing more than a cold, marble statue. She needed to
feel…more. She was desperate for it.

And she would have it. Whatever the consequences might
bring. She would not regret it.

Helen smoothed a hand down over her thigh, attempting to
remove a wrinkle in the material that didn’t exist. She glanced at the
turquoise and silver bracelet watch on her wrist for the umpteenth time.

He wasn’t late, it was just that she was nervous. She really
wasn’t expecting him for at least another ten minutes. Her stomach flip-flopped
and she pressed a hand over her abdomen.

She felt like she should be picking the petals from a daisy
like she did when she was a child. Should she or shouldn’t she? And then
deciding the answer was better left up to the fates.

The call was made, the appointment set, and now she would
just need to wait and see what developed from it. The idea of spending time
with a stranger in an intimate fashion—an interlude that would not involve
commitment, just passion…or lust to more rightly put a name to it.

A person needed intimacy sometimes—and not necessarily with
commitment attached to it. Helen liked the freedoms she had without being
required to answer to another person. She liked the idea of being able to enjoy
the company of another without expectations, other than maybe the payment for
services
rendered
. That facet of this decision still left her in control of whatever
took place. There was some measure of security in that knowledge.

She couldn’t help smiling at that thought. Services
rendered. She could just picture being presented with an invoice for these
types of services. What would her assistant say if she were to open an envelope
with “escort services” as the explanation?

She shook her head. At least that wouldn’t occur. The woman
who took her credit card information over the phone assured her of that.
Helen’s credit card statements didn’t go to the office anyway; they went to her
home. She was using her personal card this weekend, so there should be no
questions asked by anyone. No answers required.

The Fantasy Escort operator said the statement would read
“Las Vegas Entertainment” which could mean anything from attending a show to
visiting a casino.
To hiring an escort
. She shook her head. The operator
informed Helen there would be a flat fee charged for the escort’s time and then
associated charges for incidentals, such as club fees, dinner, cabs, show
tickets. She had referred to these other services discreetly as a la carte
fees. Helen suppressed the urge to giggle, certain she knew exactly the types
of services that would be included under that catch-all description.

It was an interesting term to use. One that apparently made
customers feel more comfortable in engaging the services of an escort. And
also, the point being that the escort would handle everything, but it would be
her who really paid.

Illusion. It’s what this city was about.

A knock sounded at the door and Helen swung toward it, her heart
hammering. This was it. There was no turning back. If only her stomach would
settle back into some level of normalcy. But then there was nothing normal
about this situation, now was there? Taking a deep breath, she then released it
in an attempt to steady her nerves.

Stepping to the door, Helen disengaged the lock and opened
the door. The force of his magnetism struck her like being hit by a speeding
bus and she gasped. Darkly handsome, panty-wet sexy, he was even more than she
had envisioned.

She thought when she saw him up close without the slight
alcohol haze of the bar, he would look different, more—dissipated maybe,
considering the lifestyle? That the alcoholic haze would have smoothed the
rough exterior of a paid escort.

But that wasn’t the case. Not at all. Thick, dark wavy hair,
not a strand out of place, tanned skin, firm jaw, and blazing emerald eyes.
Dressed to the nines in a dark gray Armani suit, he was easily any woman’s wet
dream.

He smiled and she was almost blinded by the amazing white gleam
of perfect teeth.

“Helen?”

She couldn’t find her voice and simply nodded, unable to
tear her eyes away from him. Mesmerized, blinded with what she could only call
lust. Her nipples tightened painfully beneath her dress. Her body called for
sex. Right this minute. To be fucked by this man without preamble was exactly
what she needed—what she had come here for.

He held out a hand. “My name is Fallon. I believe you were
expecting me.”

Expecting. Wanting. Needing. Slowly, she lifted her hand to
accept the expected social greeting. His hand was warm as it clasped hers.
Firm. It wasn’t soft, yet it wasn’t severely callused either. It was perfect.
As he released her hand, he stroked a finger along the base of her palm and she
shivered at the contact.

She wanted him naked. Helen wanted to do all manner of
things to his body. She wanted him to do the same to hers. Some deep well
inside her was unleashed and rose fast and hard to the surface. Should she just
say, “I want to be fucked, so get in here now?”

Warm color flooded her cheeks. No, she couldn’t do that. Not
even in these dire circumstances of need.

“You’re looking for a dinner companion for this evening—at
least that’s what I was told.”

She gulped and finally found her voice. “Yes. I am. Give me
a moment, and I’ll just get my wrap.” Helen turned away and forced herself to
walk calmly toward the bed. As she leaned forward to pick up the delicately
crocheted shawl, he reached around her and picked it up, having followed her
into the room.

His hands caressed her shoulders as he carefully placed the
material over them. She could smell a faint thread of expensive cologne and
clean male scent.

His fingers pressed against her skin and she felt his breath
against the back of her neck.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Helen. Nothing is
going to occur that you don’t want to happen. This is all about what you want
tonight. All about your pleasure.”

He stepped away, giving her space, and finally she got up
the courage to face him. “I’ve never done this before.”

He nodded. “I understand. Your first time. In Vegas? Or
obtaining some male companionship?”

“Uhmmm, the latter.”

He uttered a deep, sexy chuckle. “I’m glad you called,
Helen.” He reached for her arm and escorted her from the room, pulling the door
closed behind them. “We’ll just take it one step at a time, shall we? Maybe
dinner, a little dancing.”

His fingers moved in a small circle at the base of her
spine, guiding her toward the elevators and easing some of her tension all at
the same time.

The trembling taking place in her body could not be
attributed to fear, it was a kind of leashed desire and excitement. His touch
was soothing and arousing all at the same time.

How this night would end Helen had no idea, but she couldn’t
wait to find out.