Cravings by Liz Everly

downstairs, a gentleman from the hotel entered the room.
    â€œWhat is the problem?” he asked.
    â€œThe upstairs bathroom is full of tarantulas,” Jennifer said. “What kind of place is this? I happen to know the thousands you charge per night. Rip-off.”
    â€œJust a moment, please—” he started to say.
    Jennifer turned to face him.
    â€œDid you say tarantulas?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” Jennifer said. “And another thing. There’s nothing else here. What happened to all of their clothes? Their things? Computers? Cameras?”
    But the man wasn’t listening—he ran down the hall mumbling something in Spanish.

Chapter 16
    â€œI think I should stay here,” Sasha said to Sanj as he packed.
    â€œWhat?” Sanj said. “You’ve come this far searching for Maeve. You’ve been such a big help. Why not come with me?”
    â€œI’m running out of money, for one thing,” she said.
    â€œDon’t worry about money,” Sanj said, folding a pair of slacks. “I’ve got you covered.”
    â€œMaybe we’re jumping to conclusions,” Sasha said.
    â€œMaybe,” Sanj said. “But we really have no other leads. Besides, I’m just getting to know you. I’d like us to spend more time together. How about you?”
    Her heart cracked open. “Of course,” she said, then leaned into him and kissed him.
    Dare she tell him Saint Lucia was a place full of memories for her? Some good—but mostly bittersweet. She and Paul spent several days in Saint Lucia at a clubhouse on the beach. He was a member of an exclusive BDSM club. They had several beautiful places throughout the world. This place was extravagant. Yvette, his wife, came along with one of her young lovers. She loved men who were around twenty years of age. And Paul sometimes liked to watch as Yvette “taught” her men.
    The clubhouse sat on the edge of a mountain and the view was amazing. Of course, she was high almost the whole time she was there—the cocaine made the Caribbean colors even more intense. So long ago, but the memory was vivid.
    â€œI wish you wouldn’t . . .” Paul said to her as she leaned across the table and started to inhale the white powder.
    â€œWhat?” she said. “How dare you speak to me like that?” She smacked him across the face. “Down on the floor,” she said, shoving his face to the floor. “Don’t get up until I tell you.”
    He liked her this way.
    He gazed at her with such eager compliance, submission, it made her ache for him. She reached for her cuffs. No fuzzy or velvet cuffs for them. Metal on soft skin. She reached for his arms, pushed him to the floor, cuffed him.
    He groaned.
    His ass—so round and high. For a man his age, he’d kept a beautiful shape. Cooking was such a physical activity for him. She ran her fingers between the upper parts of his ass cheeks and scratched him a bit, making him squirm.
    She reached for a paddle. Her buzz taking completely over now. She was wet with want as she brought the paddle to his ass. The sound of paddle on flesh made the desire prickle in her.
    â€œOw!”
    His ass reddened.
    â€œMmmm,” she said. “Nice red bottom.” She lifted the paddle again.
    With Paul it usually took five swats. That’s when endorphins would take over—the pain would become so intense for him it became pleasure.
    She ran her hand over his ass with a gentle touch. First pain, then a little respite. She brought the leather paddle down with a thump.
    â€œAhhh,” he said, wincing.
    She knew he was hard, thought about his cock on the cool tile floor, pulsing against it, pressing harder into it with each swat. He was getting two for one. Pain on his ass, and pain on his cock.
    â€œYou like that, don’t you?” she said to him. “Tell me how much you like me to spank you.”
    â€œLove it,” he