Ridiculous, she reminded herself. Her relationship with Michael wasn't romantic. He wasn't even here to participate in these adventures, had merely agreed to do so for her. Not that he wasn't getting anything out of them. He certainly seemed to enjoy the sexual experiences they'd shared together.
But sleeping with her? Holding her close all night? Now that was another matter, and one she vowed she wouldn't broach with him. No matter how much she longed to sleep in his arms.
When they entered their suite, Serena waited for Michael to say goodnight. Instead, he took the bottle of wine to the kitchen and opened it, returning to the living area with two glasses.
He surprised her. He wasn't going to his room. In fact, he sat on the sofa next to her. Close enough that his leg brushed against hers, igniting her seemingly never quenchable sexual fires.
"Do you touch yourself mostly at night?" he asked, resurrecting their earlier conversation.
Surprisingly, she didn't mind discussing such an intimate subject with him. In fact, she found it exciting. Like talking dirty with a man. "Usually. On the weekends it could be any time."
"Tell me how you do it. On the bed, or in another room?"
"Depends," she explained, circling the rim of the wine glass with her fingertip.
"On?"
She shifted her feet underneath her, her sundress falling in silk waves over her thighs. Michael watched her every movement. "On where I am, what I'm doing, when the mood hits me."
Arching a brow, he grinned. "Just drop wherever you are and go at it?"
Laughing, she shook her head. "Not quite like that."
He brushed her hair away from her face, the gesture so personal it almost brought tears to her eyes. She could almost believe he actually cared about her, if she allowed herself to think that way. Which she wouldn't. Bringing emotion into their relationship would only lead to hurt.
"Do you use movies? Fantasize? Magazines or books?"
She held out the glass while he poured more wine. "That depends, too. If it's at night, sometimes I'll pop in a movie."
"That's right. You said you have a video collection of porn."
"I don't know if it's a collection, but I have a few movies."
"You like videos?"
"Yes." She heard the breathlessness of her voice, knew he was getting to her again, making her want him. But they didn't have an 'event' tonight. And so far they'd managed to confine their sex play to their official adventures. Would tonight be different?
"Have you ever engaged in mutual masturbation with someone?"
After a quick swallow of wine, she shook her head. "No. Have you?"
"Yeah. It's pretty hot to watch someone get themselves off."
Her nipples rose and pressed against the soft silk of her dress. Thinking about a scene like that was more than she could hope for. The thought of doing it right here with Michael pooled instant moisture between her legs.
He was such a sexual adventurer. Just the kind of man she wished she could find in her town. But how? Other than the occasional dates and the few disastrous relationships she'd had, there'd been no one. She'd finally given up, figuring she was wasting her time and the man's if he wasn't going to be able to push her erotic buttons.
Maybe a man like Michael was out there somewhere. But it didn't figure she'd find him in her backyard.
His eyes darkened and he took the glass from her hand and set it on the table, along with his. "Would you like to do that, Serena?"
"You mean someday?" she asked, knowing that wasn't his question.
"No. I mean tonight. Right now. With me."
Blood roared in her ears and her body fired up hot and ready. "I...I don't know."
"Scary?"
Was it? Or was it because masturbation seemed so personal, so private? She'd never touched herself in front of anyone before. Nor had she ever seen anyone masturbate, other than in the movies she owned.
"Not scary. Just new."
He swirled a finger over the swell of her breasts revealed in the gap of her sundress. Sliding a thumb over her already hardened nipple, he smiled when she let out a gasp.
"I think you want this. I think it excites the hell out of you."
He was right, dammit. It did, and she did. She wanted this. Wanted to watch what a man did when he took his cock in his hand, wanted his eyes on her when she brought herself to orgasm.
Besides, if they did, it would fall outside the realm of their scheduled events, and that was intriguing enough.
"Yes," she admitted, all but breathless with anticipation. "I want this."
"Would you like me to put a movie in the player? Something we could watch to give us a little visual turn on, until we watch each other?"
"Yes." Although she doubted she'd be able to take her eyes off Michael.
He quickly selected a movie, then arranged the two single chairs in the room so they'd face each other, and still be able to see the television.
"How do we go about this?" she asked, not sure what to do and not wanting to appear more naive than she already had.
"Just relax," he said, getting comfortable in the chair. "Watch the movie, then do what comes naturally. When you want to watch what I'm doing, then watch."
Serena couldn't believe she was actually going to touch herself in front of Michael. She wasn't even sure she'd be able to make herself come with him watching. It wasn't the same as doing it in the privacy of her own house. Then again, she never thought she'd be able to do half the things she'd done so far this week, and with a complete stranger. Yet she had.
Maybe it was because Michael had never seemed like a stranger to her.
The movie began, one of the new releases she'd heard about. This one had one man, two women. They undressed him, stroked him, took turns taking his cock into their mouths. The man in the movie had a tremendously long cock. Both women stroked him with their hands. Serena couldn't help but get turned on at the visual, watching the close-ups of the two women sucking the man. Deep veins ridged along the sides of his shaft. When the two women's lips touched while running their mouths along his penis she groaned in pleasure.
Her hand found its way to her breasts, kneading and stroking the aching mounds before circling her nipples with the tips of her fingers. She pulled the top of her dress down and gathered her breasts in her hands, alternatively flicking and pinching her nipples.
The women in the video then turned to each other while the man watched and stroked his own cock. They undressed each other, sucking nipples and trailing hands over asses and pussies. The blonde dipped her finger into the other woman's pussy, pulling it out and licking the juices off. Then the dark haired girl dropped to her knees and fit her mouth over the blonde's mound and sucked her clit.
Serena shuddered at the erotic play between the two women. She swept her hand over her belly and moved downward.
Michael's heavy breathing reminded her she wasn't alone. He still wore his shorts and tank top, but his hand rested on his crotch and he rubbed his shaft through the material. Watching him touch himself like that was an erotic turn on like nothing Serena had ever expected.
His hard cock pressed against his shorts. Without taking his eyes off her, he lifted his hips and pulled his shorts down around his knees, taking his cock in his hands, stroking it slowly. Serena focused on the dark hairs at the base of his shaft, the purple head of his engorged cock, the way he wrapped his fingers around it, so different than the way she touched him.
His movements mesmerized her. She felt like she was in the classroom, experiencing a monumental revelation.
How To Stroke A Cock 101, she thought to herself, her lips curving into a smile.
She could teach him a few things, too. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted the hem of her dress, revealing her pussy to him.
"You're wet," he said, focusing his heated gaze between her legs. As soon as he'd looked at her pussy the grip on his shaft tightened and his strokes became longer.
"Yes." And getting wetter
by the second.
The sight of him stroking his shaft heated her blood to boiling. So amazingly erotic, watching him, knowing he watched her. Any hesitation she might have felt at touching herself in front of him disappeared. She was completely into pleasuring herself, and pleasuring him with her actions.
In fact, she could come right now if she touched that certain spot, moved her fingers a certain way. But she didn't want to. She wanted to hold off, watch Michael, see how he stroked himself, how much enjoyment he generated from doing what she did.
They focused only on each other, the movie no more than panting, grunting background noise. Sex permeated the air around her, both the scent of her and him mingling as a powerful aphrodisiac.
"You like this?" he asked. He took his thumb and circled the ridge under the head of his cock, squeezing hard, much harder than she would have ever touched him.
"Yes," she said, gasping as she increased the tempo of her strokes to match his.
He looked pained, almost, his face scrunched into a concentrated frown as his strokes quickened even more. He breathed through his mouth, like her, raised his hips in time to his strokes, like her.
Serena tweaked her nipples with one hand, the other busily strumming her clit. When she slid two fingers into her snatch, she thought Michael was going to leap out of the chair. He groaned.
"Taste them," he commanded. "Suck your juices off your fingers."
Slipping her fingers out of her soaked pussy, she slowly raised them to her lips and wrapped her mouth around them, sucking them in as if she were sucking his cock.
"Christ!" he shouted, his gaze riveted on her. "That's so fucking hot."
Shivers racked her body at his words. Knowing she pleased him increased her own pleasure ten fold. "I'm going to come soon," she rasped, knowing she couldn't hold out much longer. Between his encouragement and watching him furiously stroke his shaft, she couldn't hold back.
"Yeah," he said. "Come on baby, show me how you do it. Make yourself come for me."
She felt the first tingling waves of her orgasm and adjusted her fingers to hit that sensitive spot on her clit that would drive her over. Keeping her eyes focused on Michael, she let out a low moan that grew into a howl of pleasure with her rising orgasm.
Michael shifted back and let loose a stream of come that shot clear across the room. She'd never seen a man make himself come, and vowed this wouldn't be the only time it happened.
Instead of dwindling in intensity, it increased. The waves of her orgasm still pulsed against her questing fingers, creamy come pouring between the cheeks of her ass, soaking the chair. She panted in an effort to suck in oxygen, trying to slow down the pummeling heartbeats that pounded her body.
Eventually, they both slowed their movements and watched each other breathe. Ropes of come lined the floor between them, and Serena smiled in satisfaction as if she'd personally stroked that streaming jet of jism out of him.
Still, neither of them seemed in a hurry to move. Michael continued to slowly massage his shaft while Serena trailed her fingers lightly over her now sensitive lips.
He smiled at her. "Did you enjoy that?"
She nodded and returned the smile, not the least bit embarrassed. "I enjoyed it very much. Do you think we could do it again sometime?"
His eyes darkened like storm clouds. "Definitely. You're incredible, Serena."
"You're not too bad yourself," she replied. Which was a lie. He was fantastic. Everything she'd ever wanted in a lover. And at that, they hadn't even fucked yet.
"I'm going to fuck you good tomorrow," he said, his voice husky with promise.
"Yes, I know."
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough for her. Tomorrow was the day she'd finally feel that big cock stuffed inside her, stretching her, hitting that sensitive G-spot inside her until she came in roaring waves all over his shaft.
If these past few days had been an indicator of what it would be like to fuck Michael, she wasn't sure she'd survive the pleasure.
But she'd certainly be willing to die trying.
They both adjusted their clothes. Serena was aware of the silence between them. Though not uncomfortable, she always wondered what he was thinking when he went silent like that.
He was such an amazing man. So full of life and adventure, so smart, so creative, and so willing to accommodate her.
She felt the stirrings in her heart when she looked at him, the warning signals blasting at her from all directions.
No. She couldn't let it happen, couldn't allow herself to feel anything for him other than physical pleasure.
But as he smiled at her, she knew it was already too late.
*
Michael cursed inwardly. What the fuck had he just done?
Oh sure, he was all about keeping things between them impersonal, making sure their sex stayed within the parameters of the scheduled adventures.
So, what was the first thing he did? Suggested a little mutual masturbation in the living room. Was it a scheduled event? Not even fucking close.
How much more personal could that get?
And the worst thing was, he'd enjoyed the hell out of it. More than enjoyed it--it had damn near killed him. Never had he gotten off so hard and so fast. Serena was the hottest woman he'd ever met. Whatever he suggested, she was game for.
He hadn't thought a woman like her existed. Unfortunately, he'd been wrong.
She was so perfect for him it was scary. Beautiful, intelligent, sexy and erotic as hell.
Shit. He was fucked. Fucked, fucked, fucked. In the matter of a few short days, he'd let her wriggle under his radar and blindside him with a shot the size of a two thousand pound bomb.
"Would you like to sit on the couch with me? Watch some television or work on your book?"
She looked at him with such a hopeful expression, everything vulnerable about her so clearly written on her face, he felt like packing and heading home right that moment.
But he wouldn't. He might be an asshole, but even he wasn't that big an asshole.
"Sure. I've got a little work left to do anyway. Maybe you could help me with it."
Ah, hell. Her face brightened, tingeing pink along her tanned cheeks, and she smiled so wide one would think he'd just gifted her with the Hope Diamond. And all he'd done was agree to sit next to her.
Damn, she was easy to live with. And damn if he didn't feel the stirrings of emotion across his scarred old heart.
This wasn't his fault. He'd come to Paradise Resort to relax and research, maybe get in a little hot sex with Ginny. No entanglements, pleasure and work combined-- it was supposed to be perfect.
Instead, this plain little blonde had showed up on his doorstep in need of a little help. No big deal, right? Yeah, right. Then she'd turned into Wonder Sex Woman while he wasn't looking and proceeded to twist his balls in a knot until he walked behind her drooling.
And if that wasn't bad enough, she batted those innocent green eyes at him and made him feel. He didn't want to feel. He didn't want to enjoy being around her. He didn't want to think about how much he enjoyed both fucking her and talking to her.
This week would end. They'd go their separate ways, and whatever fun they'd had together would be over.
He knew it, but it sure as hell seemed like she didn't. He mentally cursed at the nagging feeling of guilt worming its way inside him.
Well, fuck it. She was a big girl, she knew what she was getting into. He'd warned her there could be no emotional involvement, and she'd agreed. So if she got hurt, that was her problem, not his.
And if he got hurt? Then that's what he'd deserve for allowing feelings to get in the way of fucking.
Chapter Eight
"Your female character had to have something horrible happen in her past to make her act in such an evil way," Serena pointed out, smiling at Michael's frown.
"Why? Couldn't she just have been born that way?"
"Hardly. No one kills without reason. Even insanity has a cause. Fami
lial, psychological trauma--"
He waved his hand at her. "Bullshit. She's always been a vicious bitch from hell, and nothing's going to change that."
Serena sat cross-legged on the sofa, Michael's notes spread out on her lap. They'd been at this ever since last night, when they'd talked for hours until neither could stay awake. Then they'd gotten on it right after breakfast again, brainstorming and throwing out ideas for his new book.
She loved that he'd asked for her opinion. After having read all his books, she considered herself somewhat of an expert on his characters. Funny how he wasn't taking all that well to her suggestions, though.
But instead of irritating her, his disgruntled reaction both amused and invigorated her. For all intents and purposes, Michael wrote erotica. He could call it erotic criminal fiction, but it was erotica.
Right up her literary alley.
"Michael, look," she said, pulling off her glasses and placing them gently on top of the pile of papers. "This woman, Victoria as you've named her, wasn't brought up to kill and dismember men. Something had to serve as a catalyst to make her kill the first time. One doesn't go through life perfectly happy for twenty-five years, then one day wake up and decide to go on a serial killing spree and lop off every man's penis who gets in her way."
"I realize that," he said, his face buried in the laptop. "What I'm saying is you want her to have experienced a psychological trauma, when all it would really take is a loose screw in her head to pop."
Serena smiled. "Yes, it's true that could happen. The point I'm trying to get across is that your readers will be more enticed if you lay a little background on her--make something happen to her in the past that gives her the impetus to kill."
He glanced up, his gaze meeting hers. God his eyes were blue. She lost herself in them every time he looked at her.
"You might have a point," he said, still considering her.
She warmed under his gaze, feeling as if she'd actually been helpful. "I've done quite a bit of research into psychoses and triggers for violent crimes."
"Why?"
With a shrug, she said, "Nothing better to do on a Saturday night. Besides, one of the psychology professors at the college had asked for my help."
He quirked a brow. "Someone you dated?"