in the first place. Ouch!’
She’d pricked her finger on a thorn. And deeply at that. She sucked hard at the little wound while she arranged the roses haphazardly with one hand.
Aware that she was hiding, she tried to hurry, and then pricked the same finger again when she started using both hands.
‘Fucking botheration!’
At that moment the door swung open and Jay appeared, almost filling the narrow space.
‘Can I help? You seem to be having a bit of trouble.’ In a smooth sly movement he was in the cloakroom before she could answer, and had quietly back-heeled the door closed behind him.
‘It’s OK, thanks. I just don’t get flowers that often so I’m not a very good arranger.’
‘Everything looks beautiful from where I’m standing.’
In the mirror his dark flint-coloured eyes were brilliant as they flitted from her throat, to her breasts, to the delta of her sex in her snug-fitting jeans.
Sandy started laughing. She couldn’t help herself. He was so blatant.
Jay laughed too, amused by his own clichés. Reaching around her, he took the rose she was holding and placed it adeptly in the vase, then repositioned a couple of others. The result was perfectly balanced, just the arrangement Sandy had been searching for.
‘Is there no end to your talents?’ Her voice wavered, had no power in it. Her hands were shaking, and shecouldn’t have gone on arranging the roses if she’d wanted to. She placed her hands on the counter, convinced she’d fall if she didn’t, her knees were so jellified.
‘Oh, you don’t know the half of them, Princess, believe me.’
Powerful arms came around her, hands rising to her breasts, claiming them, cupping them. In the mirror his lush but hard mouth curved in the frame of his dark beard. He pushed his crotch against the cleft of her buttocks, acquainting her with supreme hardness.
Without thinking, Sandy pushed back against him, massaging the solid knot of his erection. He kneaded her breast in return, his grip firm but sensitive, the way a musician might prise the best from a rare instrument.
‘I’ve been thinking of you all night. Imagining myself fucking you again and again,’ he breathed in her ear, pushing her crotch against the hard edge of the counter with his hips. In her cleft, her clitoris jumped as if he’d touched it. ‘I must have come half a dozen times, lying in bed, fantasising about being in your cunt, and your mouth. The chambermaids at the Waverley will think I’m a sex maniac.’
‘Aren’t you one?’
Jay growled in her ear, one hand sliding down from her breast to her groin, insinuating itself between her and the counter and clasping her there. She grunted with sensation as he pressed exactly the right spot to rub the seam of her jeans against her clit.
‘I am since I set eyes on you, that’s for sure.’ He pressed again, rocking his finger and his hips in a syncopated rhythm.
Between her legs her body gathered itself, tensing ready to release, simmering ready to boil over. How could he dothis? Get her going so fast? Right here in this tiny room with its atmosphere thick and cloying with floral scents.
Oh hell, the door wasn’t even locked!
‘Please, lock the door first!’
A low rough laugh seemed to fill the confined space.
‘First before what?’ He squeezed harder, lifting her up, forcing her own weight into the intensity of the way he rubbed and worked her through the denim. ‘What is it you want, Princess? Tell me. Tell me the words.’
Why did he have such a fondness for making her admit to her desire?
Sandy shook her head. Not in negation, but to try to clear her thinking. The smell of potpourri and roses was like an hallucinogen and the sensations between her legs dissolved her reason. She wanted to come and, if he wouldn’t lock the door and assure her privacy, she’d come anyway, even if they might be caught.
She set both hands firmly on the counter and swirled her hips against him. He didn’t miss a beat,
She’d pricked her finger on a thorn. And deeply at that. She sucked hard at the little wound while she arranged the roses haphazardly with one hand.
Aware that she was hiding, she tried to hurry, and then pricked the same finger again when she started using both hands.
‘Fucking botheration!’
At that moment the door swung open and Jay appeared, almost filling the narrow space.
‘Can I help? You seem to be having a bit of trouble.’ In a smooth sly movement he was in the cloakroom before she could answer, and had quietly back-heeled the door closed behind him.
‘It’s OK, thanks. I just don’t get flowers that often so I’m not a very good arranger.’
‘Everything looks beautiful from where I’m standing.’
In the mirror his dark flint-coloured eyes were brilliant as they flitted from her throat, to her breasts, to the delta of her sex in her snug-fitting jeans.
Sandy started laughing. She couldn’t help herself. He was so blatant.
Jay laughed too, amused by his own clichés. Reaching around her, he took the rose she was holding and placed it adeptly in the vase, then repositioned a couple of others. The result was perfectly balanced, just the arrangement Sandy had been searching for.
‘Is there no end to your talents?’ Her voice wavered, had no power in it. Her hands were shaking, and shecouldn’t have gone on arranging the roses if she’d wanted to. She placed her hands on the counter, convinced she’d fall if she didn’t, her knees were so jellified.
‘Oh, you don’t know the half of them, Princess, believe me.’
Powerful arms came around her, hands rising to her breasts, claiming them, cupping them. In the mirror his lush but hard mouth curved in the frame of his dark beard. He pushed his crotch against the cleft of her buttocks, acquainting her with supreme hardness.
Without thinking, Sandy pushed back against him, massaging the solid knot of his erection. He kneaded her breast in return, his grip firm but sensitive, the way a musician might prise the best from a rare instrument.
‘I’ve been thinking of you all night. Imagining myself fucking you again and again,’ he breathed in her ear, pushing her crotch against the hard edge of the counter with his hips. In her cleft, her clitoris jumped as if he’d touched it. ‘I must have come half a dozen times, lying in bed, fantasising about being in your cunt, and your mouth. The chambermaids at the Waverley will think I’m a sex maniac.’
‘Aren’t you one?’
Jay growled in her ear, one hand sliding down from her breast to her groin, insinuating itself between her and the counter and clasping her there. She grunted with sensation as he pressed exactly the right spot to rub the seam of her jeans against her clit.
‘I am since I set eyes on you, that’s for sure.’ He pressed again, rocking his finger and his hips in a syncopated rhythm.
Between her legs her body gathered itself, tensing ready to release, simmering ready to boil over. How could he dothis? Get her going so fast? Right here in this tiny room with its atmosphere thick and cloying with floral scents.
Oh hell, the door wasn’t even locked!
‘Please, lock the door first!’
A low rough laugh seemed to fill the confined space.
‘First before what?’ He squeezed harder, lifting her up, forcing her own weight into the intensity of the way he rubbed and worked her through the denim. ‘What is it you want, Princess? Tell me. Tell me the words.’
Why did he have such a fondness for making her admit to her desire?
Sandy shook her head. Not in negation, but to try to clear her thinking. The smell of potpourri and roses was like an hallucinogen and the sensations between her legs dissolved her reason. She wanted to come and, if he wouldn’t lock the door and assure her privacy, she’d come anyway, even if they might be caught.
She set both hands firmly on the counter and swirled her hips against him. He didn’t miss a beat,
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