Bliss (12 page)

“Exactly.”

He turned her around and pressed his body close to hers.

“Just imagine. He comes up behind you . . .” His hands stroked along her sides. “You can’t see him, but you feel his breath on your neck.” His hands slid over her breasts. “On your body.” He pressed his pelvis against her, his cock pushing against her buttocks.

She imagined he was a stranger. Touching her. Stroking her. When he pressed his cock to her slick opening and pushed inside, she moaned. She rested her hands against the tile wall of the shower as he pulled her snug to his body, his arms gripping her tightly, and thrust into her. A stranger, making love to her. After a few short strokes, intense pleasure rocketed through and she gasped in orgasm.

She slumped in his arms, reveling in the sexy heat of residual pleasure.

“You wouldn’t even know at first if it was really a stranger or not.”

“So it could be you pretending?”

“It could be. . . . Does that help you decide? Not knowing?”

“I don’t know. It makes it sexy.”

He turned her around and kissed her. “Doesn’t it make it even sexier knowing it will more likely be real?”

She stared into his dark espresso-brown eyes and nodded. “Yes, I guess it does.”

“It’s wild,” Kara said as she faced Grace over the lunch table. “J.M. and I have been talking about acting out a sexual fantasy for my column, but I don’t think he means it to be an act.”

All the tables in the hotel restaurant were full, mostly with conference attendees trying to get lunch as quickly as possible and get back in time for the afternoon sessions. The sound of chatting voices and cutlery clinking against chinaware resounded. A waitress zipped past Kara and Grace to deliver food to the next table.

“Oh? What’s the fantasy?” Grace jabbed her fork into a chunk of chicken on her lunch salad, then popped it in her mouth.

“Sex with an anonymous stranger.”

Grace put down her fork and stared at Kara. “Really? That’s pretty adventurous. So you’ve agreed to do it?”

“Well, the thing is, I’m not sure if it will be J.M. acting as a stranger—I’d have a blindfold on—or whether he really intends to bring in a stranger.”

Kara took a spoonful of the delicious minestrone soup.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He said that I wouldn’t know at first if it was a stranger or not. He seems to want to make it more exciting by keeping me uncertain.”

Grace tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “But he did warn you it could be an actual stranger?”

“That’s right. When I said it could be sexy not knowing for sure, he asked if it wasn’t even sexier knowing it probably will be real.”

A waitress stopped by their table with a water jug dripping with condensation and refilled their glasses, the ice tinkling against the glass as she poured. Kara took her last bite of salad and the waitress took her empty plate away.

Kara leaned back in her chair. “Well, all I can say is, make sure you’re okay with it
really
being a stranger, because he’s clearly given you fair warning.”

“I know. Maybe I should just tell him I can’t go through with it.” Kara took a sip of her ice water.

“That’s up to you, but just so you know, I’ve been friends with J.M. a long time. He’s someone you can depend on. I trust his judgment. If you feel you can, too, then you can trust that he’ll pick someone who is discreet . . . someone he would trust with your welfare . . . and probably someone who’s sexy as hell. It sounds like an exciting opportunity to me.”

Excitement quivered through her at Grace’s words. She was right. J.M. would be careful whom he chose. It wouldn’t be like a real stranger whom she knew nothing about. She would know that J.M. trusted him.

And anyway, it would probably just be J.M. pretending.

“I’m helping a woman friend explore some possibilities . . . specifically, sexual fantasies,” J.M. said as Quinn tipped back his beer. The lunch break would be over soon and they’d have to return to the conference for the afternoon sessions. He couldn’t put off asking any longer.

Quinn placed his glass on the table.

“Really? Sounds like fun. Is this your girlfriend’s sister?”

“Ex-girlfriend’s sister and . . . no. I told you, I’m not going to get sexually involved with Grace.” J.M. took one of the tangy chicken wings from the basket in front of them and took a bite, then washed it down with a sip of beer. “Listen, have you been tested recently?”

“Tested?” Quinn took a sip of his beer. “Oh, you mean . . . yeah, sure. Always before I come to a conference like this.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? You’re not suggesting you and I . . . ? ’Cause I’m totally into women.”

“No, nothing like that. I was actually wondering if you might be interested in helping out. With the fantasies.”

Quinn’s face split in a broad grin. “Are you kidding?” He leaned forward. “You’re not talking about me just being a cameraman or some such?”

“The scenario is sex with a stranger. Anonymous, so we’ll go with a blindfold for her. She doesn’t know you, so you’ll be the main player.”

Quinn’s eyebrows quirked. “Since she’ll have a blindfold, you could play the role yourself. Why share?”

“You know I’m a purist. It’s not the same if it’s not really a stranger. I think she deserves the full experience.”

Quinn chuckled. “Okay, then.” He clinked his glass beer mug against J.M.’s. “I take it you’re not one to feel threatened by a second man being with your woman.”

If only you knew.
All morning, J.M. had fought the niggling jealousy he felt at the thought of Quinn touching Kara . . . making love to Kara. He had almost backed out in favor of playing the role himself. At the same time, he got incredibly turned on thinking about how much pleasure Kara would experience by acting out this fantasy.

And the increased adrenaline blasting through her system when she finally realized it really was a stranger gliding his cock into her would shoot her to astonishing heights of ecstasy.

In fact, now that he’d set it up with Quinn, it would be sheer torture waiting for this evening to come.

Kara stepped into J.M.’s room, one hand clasped around the other.

“I’ve got to admit that I’m . . . a little nervous,” she said.

J.M. closed the door, then stepped toward her and stroked her hair behind her ear. The gentle touch sent tingles along her neck.

“You’ve got nothing to be worried about.”

She’d been thinking of this all day. Anticipating, yet uncertain. Unsure she actually wanted to go through with it.

Which was silly because most likely it would be J.M. pretending to be the stranger. He wouldn’t really bring another man in here to be with her.

Would he?

And if he did, would she really let a strange man touch her? Make love to her?

Of course, since she’d be blindfolded, she wouldn’t know for sure whether it was J.M. or someone else until it was too late to back out.

A quiver began deep in her stomach at the thought of being with a stranger whom she couldn’t see. Not knowing if it even was a stranger.

J.M. stepped back and eyed her outfit. “Good choice.”

His frank, masculine appreciation made her feel sexy. He’d asked her to wear a sundress with a short hemline. She’d chosen a black dress with a pattern of large tropical flowers, but she was certain it wasn’t the fabric he admired as his gaze drifted down the deep V neckline. It was a halter top, fitted to the waist with a full but very short skirt.

“Turn around for me.”

She turned and he chuckled.

“The tie closure at the back of the neck is a nice touch.”

He touched the tie and for a moment, she thought he was going to unfasten it, but his fingertips trailed down her bare spine. He flattened his hand on her back and drew her around to face him, then into his arms. She gazed at him as his lips approached hers, then she tipped up her head and their mouths joined. With his arms around her and his lips moving on hers, she felt her anxiety slip away. His masculine presence held her full attention. His hard, broad chest . . . his strong, muscular arms . . . his full, sexy lips. And his tongue sweeping into her mouth as if claiming it.

She sighed and melted against him. He released her lips, then took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

The first thing she noticed was a silver pole on one side of the room.

“What is that?”

“It’s a pole.”

“I can see that. You had a pole installed in your hotel room?”

“It’s a friction-fit pole. Totally portable and won’t leave a mark.”

She sent it a leery glance. “Are you planning on having a stripper in later? Because I’m not planning on dancing.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll find out what it’s for soon enough.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay then.”

He drew her farther into the room toward the bed. He sat down and drew her into a standing position in front of him.

On the bedside table, she saw a strip of black cloth.

The blindfold.

He wrapped his hands around her waist, then slid them downward, over her hips, past the short hem of her skirt to midthigh . . . then up to her hem, which he toyed with. She dragged her gaze from the blindfold to his simmering espresso eyes.

“Lift your skirt for me so I can see what’s underneath.”

She reached for the hem of her skirt and lifted the light fabric to show him her black panties.

“Very pretty.”

His hands glided around behind her and stroked over the silky fabric covering her buttocks. He circled around to the front, then caressed the front of her panties. Her eyelids fell closed as she enjoyed his gentle touch. Then he tugged on the elastic waistband and pulled the panties down her thighs, past her calves, then dropped them to her feet. She opened her eyes and saw his chocolate gaze fixed on her dark curls.

She felt incredibly exposed and . . . very turned on. His frank, male scrutiny sent tingles rushing through her insides. She wanted him to touch her . . . to slide his fingers inside her. To lick her and tease her, then bring her to an intense orgasm.

She had to stop herself from widening her stance to offer him easy access.

He took her right hand and drew it from the fabric of her skirt, which she still held in the air. She realized she was still holding up her hem with her other hand, so she released it. Her skirt fell back into place, covering her naked mound, but she still felt exposed. She wondered if he would place her hand between her legs and encourage her to stimulate herself. She felt the moisture collect inside her, waiting for his discovery.

Instead, he kissed the back of her hand, then turned it over and pressed his mouth to her palm in a gentle caress. Then he reached to the bedside table and picked up the blindfold.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Chapter Eleven

“Um . . .” Kara’s heart thumped in her chest. She wasn’t at all sure she was ready.

J.M. grinned. “I just mean for the blindfold. Don’t worry, we’re not going to move that fast. Your close encounter won’t happen immediately. I want you to get used to the blindfold first.”

She nodded. He patted the bed beside him and she sat down, then he placed the blindfold over her eyes and tied it behind her head. Snug, but not too tight.

“Okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Um . . . shouldn’t we have a safe word or something?”

He laughed. “It won’t be necessary. If you say you want to stop, we stop. It’s as simple as that. If we were tying you up or doing a scenario where we captured you and pretended to take you against your will, then we’d have a safe word.”

The thought of that sent quivers through her. Being overpowered by J.M. or . . .
and
. . . a stranger. She couldn’t believe how turned on that made her.

“I have recorded something for you to listen to. I know hypnotherapy, so first I have an introduction to relax you, called an induction, then I’ll walk you through a scenario to set the scene.”

“And you did it as a recording so I wouldn’t hear where your voice is coming from . . . so I won’t know if the man I’m with is you or . . . someone else.”

“Actually, I recorded it so it will become more like your own voice in your head . . . so it would be less intrusive.”

She nodded. Soft music began to play and his voice spoke softly, telling her to breathe deeply.

His voice and the music relaxed her. His hand rested on her shoulders and he walked her across the room. He took her hands and guided them forward until they came in contact with cold metal. The dance pole. He wrapped her hands around it, then moved away. She wasn’t sure how far.

“Now, imagine you are in total darkness,” his recorded voice said. “You are on a subway train between stops. The train has stopped. An electrical failure. The train is very crowded and there are people all around you. Hang on to the pole in case the train starts up again suddenly.”

She tightened her hands around the cold metal pole, gripping it snugly.

“Before the train stopped, you were aware of a handsome stranger on the train near you. You didn’t get a good look at him—you hadn’t wanted to stare—but you can feel him close by.”