Blue Room Confidentials: Vol. 1 Page 6

  “I want more,” he groans again. “Let me taste your whip. Please, please let me taste your whip. I want it so bad. I want it so bad.”

  “If you insist. I suppose you've borne your punishment very bravely.” I watch as Jaymie licks the whip, running her feline tongue along the leather, then presses it to the client's own mouth. She grins as he claws at it, desperately licking at it, sucking on it with abandon the way a baby sucks a pacifier.

  “Now, if you're real good,” she goes on purring, “I'll let you lick me on my chaps. And somewhere else, too. Somewhere where I'm good and wet.”

  “Oh, have mercy!” Mr. F. cries out, closing his eyes and writhing under Jaymie's touch.

  I gulp. At last I am able to look away. My dick is harder than it's been since Staci left me. This woman is going to drive me crazy.

  I make a motion to slip away, but it's too late.

  Jaymie's staring right at me. And she gives me a cheeky wink as I back out of the room, slowly and silently, the way I came.

  Chapter 9

  Xander

  I can't believe it. I'm turned on again. Can it be?

  There are two times in my life that I thought “this is all over.” That I thought “love is dead.” That I thought I would never want another woman in my lap, in my bed, in my life, for as long as I lived.

  The first was after Marina died. That was my first great period of mourning. Women lost their appeal for me then – all women equally. Though I had been a great playboy, a great lover of women, before I had met Marina, Marina had made a monogamous man out of me for the first time in my life. Made me want to pledge to her fidelity, happiness, my whole heat, my whole life, my whole self. Marina had that power over me – a power no other woman I had ever known had had over me – the power to make me believe that no other woman in the world mattered. With her death a light went out. The lamp of my soul was extinguished. I lost my ability to experience sensual pleasure. Not only sex, either. Food was tasteless to me; wine was indistinguishable from water. I could not enjoy a tender caress or the feeling of silk against my skin. All delicacies turned to ashes in my mouth. All music sounded discordant, and even the most beautiful landscape appeared as ugly as overcooked vegetables. I lost my ability to perform for a year – a year in which I wanted nobody, wanted nothing, cared for nothing except getting Marina back.

  That was the first time.

  The second time was Staci.

  When Staci left me, I am not ashamed to say that I did not take it well. I cried – alone, in my room, of course, but real tears. I drank. My cock felt like a useless appendage: like the vestigial tail of a beast that long since had ceased to need it. I didn't want to use it. I didn't want anyone except Staci Atussi, and if I couldn't have her then nothing else in the world mattered. Who could I fuck that would make me lose my mind, my heart, my soul, the way Staci did?

  And yet. And yet and yet and yet....

  Seeing Jaymie Wakeley straddling Mr. F. in that room had awakened something in me. I had stood amazed, watching her: her firm and ripe tits, her rock-hard abs, her lithe and long and yet somehow perfectly curvy body. Watching her, I'd gotten hard again – bone-hard – for the first time since my heartbreak. It was a relief of a feeling. It meant that Staci hadn't taken every part of me after all. There was one part of me that still she had not destroyed, when she had destroyed my heart. I may have lost my ability to love, after those two heartbreaks which between them had shattered my soul, but at the very least I had not destroyed my ability to want, and that would have to be good enough.

  And I want Jaymie Wakeley.

  I know it's a bad idea. That girl spells trouble with a capital T, and she's my employee to boot. She's here to investigate, to work as a Blues Girl, not to get laid for her own pleasure – or for mine, for that matter. And we both know what happened the last time I got involved with a self-described private investigator working undercover at the Blue Room. Still, I can't help but find myself wildly, intoxicatingly, attracted to her deep strawberry-blonde tresses, her broad and athletic figure, her trim waist and the look of wild and passionate abandon in her eyes.

  I move my hand to my cock. I start to stroke it, a little, thinking about Jaymie as she was when she was straddling that cowboy, her breasts thrust forward and made all the more prominent by the tightness of her black leather corsets, the sight of her thrashing that whip...

  I want to moan her name aloud. A sudden, strange, overwhelming feeling.

  I haven't done this in a long time. When I was with Staci, I was getting action so often I never thought about the need to pleasure myself. But now that Staci's no longer in my life – and I don't mind admitting I'm not getting any anymore – I need something to fill the void.

  Then a knock comes at the door.

  Embarrassed, I rise, taking my hands out of my pants and rinsing them briefly in my hotel sink.

  “Who is it?” I ask.

  “It's me,” Jaymie's brash voice comes over the door.

  I hope she doesn't smell the desire on me.

  She walks in the second I open the door. Well, not so much walks as strides, struts in. She knows exactly what I've seen her do, how much of her I've seen. Her perfect tits and her equally flawless ass. Her shaved sex. All of it.

  “So sorry to disturb you,” she coos, and from the sly grin on her face I guess she knows exactly what I've been up to. “I hope you weren't doing anything terribly important...”

  “No, nothing,” I say.

  “At home on a Friday night? Doesn't a big stud like you have a date?” she teases.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I say. “I'm quite the homebody these days.”

  “I heard. You're still in mourning.”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “It takes time,” she says, stretching out her long, slender neck. “These things always do. But you'll be right as rain, soon enough. You've just got to get...back on the saddle...and ride.”

  She smiles as she knows the image she has conjured up in my head: Jaymie Wakely, riding Mr. F. Jaymie with a riding crop, a horse whip, a saddle...

  “Maybe one day,” I say with a sad smile. “When I'm ready.”

  “I didn't say fall in love again.” She looks me up and down with a flirtatious gleam in her eye. “I just said that maybe you should try to have a little fun to brighten up your melancholy. You seem like such a sad, sad man...”

  “I'm not sad!” I find myself growing defensive, angry, in spite of myself.

  “Mooning over that girl.”

  “Break-ups are hard.”

  “Rebounds can be...” she eyes my cock, which is still bulging through my trousers. “harder.”

  I take in what she's doing. Is she putting the moves on me? Or does she simply do this with everybody?

  “What are you implying?” I ask stiffly.

  “Maybe you and I – we could have some fun? I may have had one man tonight, but I'm afraid that just made me hungry for more. Mr. F. has gone home, worn out. But me, I'm not worn out at all. I’m still craving more and wanting to be sated…”

  “I can't,” I sigh.

  “Because of Staci?”

  “Because I'm not ready?”

  “Not ready to have your cock sucked for hours by a woman who knows how?”

  My mouth falls open. Damn, this girl knows what to say.

  “Listen, I'm not looking for anything sentimental. I don't do sentiment. You are damn fucking hot, and I want to fuck you and I can tell you want to fuck me. We can be friends with benefits, as the kids say. Just looking at you makes me wet, and I want you so bad I can taste you in my mouth. You're down and you need a good woman to take your mind off how badly you've been treated. So what do you say? It's just sex, Xander?”

  How different she is from Staci, I think. While Staci was romantic, a little shy, and playful, Jaymie is direct. She knows what she wants. And I have to admit, she's turning me on, too.

  I don't even have to say yes. I give a slight,
barely even perceptible nod, and immediately Jaymie knows what I want.

  “Lean back,” she says, in that slow, foxy, irresistible voice of hers.

  She starts to undress me: unbuttoning my jeans and pulling down the zipper. She takes my cock out of my boxers and then closes her lips around it. The sensation of her wet tongue on the tip of my cock, and her hot mouth sucking hard has me immediately rolling my eyes back.

  “Ohhh!” I groan deeply.

  I have to admit it: the girl knows what she's doing. She licks my cock, running her tongue up and down my shaft while she takes my balls in her fingers, playing with them so tantalizingly while her tongue envelops me in long, luxurious licks.

  “Ohhh fuck!” There's nothing else to say, really.

  And then, when she thinks I can't even stand it, she lets her bathrobe fall from her body. She's not wearing chaps or a corset, now. She's completely naked.

  She gets on the bed next to me. She opens her legs wide, spreading them so I can see every inch of her shaved vulva, her perfect pearl-like clitoris, glowing rosy pink. She begins to pleasure herself, rubbing her clit while she stares at me, her legs still wide open, waiting.

  I can't resist any longer. In an instant I'm out of the chair and onto the bed, forcing my cock inside her. She cries out with surprise and pleasure as I fill her up. I grab her by the shoulders, pulling her legs over my shoulders, until we're so closely locked together that I know she's feeling every thrust of my shaft in her G-Spot. She screams over and over again.

  I can't deny it. This is some of the best sex I've ever had. Wild, crazy, passionate, over-the-top sex – not soppy romance, not melodrama, just good old-fashioned desire. The kind of sex I used to have before I met Marina.

  And it's just what I need right now.

  I keep thrusting until we come together, in unison, crying out each other's names. Then I fall into one of the deepest sleeps I've ever slept in my life.

  When I wake up, Jaymie's gone. I'm alone in the bed. I half expect her to have left an envelope full of cash on the nightstand.

  Where did she go?

  The usual morning after feelings flood through me: shame, regret. I feel like I should track Jaymie down, apologize, tell her that I'm sorry for being so irresponsible, that I really shouldn't have done any of that...

  I get on my clothes and text her. Where are you?

  Then I open my room door and see her walking down the hallway, towards the elevator.

  I follow her. Where is she going, I wonder.

  The elevator doors close before she sees me.

  I take the stairs to the lobby, figuring I'll beat her there. But when I arrive she's already heading out the door, into a car.

  What are you doing, Jaymie? She's supposed to be here at the Blue Room 24/7. What could she possibly be leaving the site for?

  Suspicion rears its ugly head inside of me.

  I get into my own car, which is parked outside, and follow her, and subtly as I am able.

  She leads me into a park: dark, deserted, with nary a streetlight to provide even the slightest bit of illumination. I follow her at a distance, taking care to keep my steps silent.

  “I thought you'd never get here,” I hear a male voice say. I can't see the stranger's face at this distance, but the voice sounds strangely familiar....

  Then I see Jaymie take off her wig. Her long, strawberry-blonde wig. She removes her blue contact lenses.

  My heart starts beating faster. What is she doing.

  A ray of moonlight comes out and I see the stranger's face.

  Ben?

  The old bartender at the Blue Room, Roni’s second-in-command, who had betrayed Staci and nearly left her for dead before Roni turned on them both and shot Ben. To death, I thought. But here he is: alive and well.

  Jaymie throws the wig at Ben – angrily, I think. She glowers at him.

  I catch a glimpse of her natural eyes, her natural hair, chestnut brown.

  Like someone I used to know.

  A strange ghostly suspicion comes over me...

  And then she gives Ben a look: a look I recognize, a look I've seen so many times before, a look which makes my heart plummet in my chest. An expression of love and anger, the kind of expression that a woman would give to a man she adores, a look that says I know you're right but I hate you for saying so anyway.

  I know that look well.

  I used to see it on Marina's face.

  On Marina's face, under those chestnut-brown tresses of hair, in those chestnut-brown eyes. But she’s dead.

  Marina?

  *****

  This is the End of Part I

  Thank you for reading The Blue Room Confidentials Vol. 1. This is a multiple novella romance series with 4 Volumes.

  Part two will be available in September 2015!

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  If you enjoyed this novella, please leave a review, and recommend it to a friend.

  *****

  The Blue Room, which features most of the characters from Blue Room Confidentials is complete and available at:

  http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B013XRVS48

  *****

  The Blue Room Confidentials Series features some characters from The Never Knights Trilogy

  For 17 and Up

  A quick read, all three books in The Never Knights Trilogy is available here:

  http://www.amazon.com/Never-Say-Knights-Series-ebook/dp/B008X2NCT8

  If you liked Blue Room Confidentials, you would like

  Other Adult Romantic Thrillers

  From Kailin Gow, found at:

  Kailin Romance

  http://www.kailinromance.wordpress.com.