CHAPTER ONE
Sybil
“Billie!” the familiar and very sweet voice of Lynda says on the other line. “How are you?”
“I’m awesome,” I whisper into the phone. “Look, I don’t want to impose but… is the deal still on?”
There’s a pause. “I’m some kind of an idiot,” she says. “I can’t remember the deal you’re talking about.”
“You said if I ever need a room, you’ve got me.”
“Oh!” she laughs. “Yeah. Absolutely. It’s on the house. You need it right now?”
“Thank God,” I whisper. “Can you make a key right now?” By now I see her through the hotel window. I’m in the parking lot.
“Sure,” she says. “But it’s one in the morning. The front desk is just closing.”
“I’m about twenty steps away,” I say.
I see her look out the window at me and smile brightly. Then, she sees the man getting out of his car and stepping next to me. “I got you.” She says seriously and hangs up. We get inside and I have no idea how the hell she manages it but there’s a basket with a bottle of wine and chocolate on the counter along with my room key and a note with my name. She’s already gone and the lights behind the front desk are out.
I have to hand it to Lynda. Our conversation about me never having a one-night stand at my apartment is months old and she’s coming through in spades. Of course, it’s easy for her since her husband owns the hotel. I suppose I’m in good shape since she’s really good friends with my boss, Karrie, who owns the bar where I work. Lynda’s a friend but, really, I’m more like a tagalong friend for her and Karrie.
But a few minutes later, I’m thinking she was the best friend in the world. That’s because we only make it a few steps into the room before the man’s arms are around me. His name is Clint. He’s sexy as hell, and I have definitely needed a sexy as hell diversion from things. You can imagine how particularly frustrating it is that my boss and Lynda seem to provide an unending narration of their particularly wonderful sex life with their men.
While I’m single.
And too busy for a relationship.
But this night is perfect and I can’t think of anything more wonderful than the fact that Clint came into the bar tonight, except maybe just that he took the time to talk with me, flirt with me, gently make overtures to me, and then jump at the opportunity to do exactly what he does right now.
And what he does right now is take his hands and run them over my body.
I have a lot of body.
What I mean is, I’m not one of those insubstantial, wispy girls that seem to be in fashion. Nice people call me curvy. Mean people use other words. I don’t care much one way or another. I’m happy with who I am, plus-sized clothing and all.
Clint seems pretty happy with me too, and that’s wonderful because if I have to wait any longer for him, I think I’m going to explode.
He pulls my pants and underwear down and I open my legs, expecting him to come up so I can unbuckle his belt and take his pants off.
He doesn’t come back up.
Instead, he stays down and when his lips close around my pussy, I decided I might just explode after all.
“Oh, God, Clint!” I whisper as his mouth delves expertly into me while one hand slides up my navel to grip my breast and the other slides under my ass to lift me up slightly so he can find a better angle.
The slight change in position makes the feeling more intense and I feel my orgasm approaching much faster than I’m prepared for. “Oh, Clint, you’re gonna make me cum!”
Then the anticipated explosion hits me and I scream and moan as I writhe and twist underneath him. My heels beat against his back as my legs shake with the force of the climax. All I can do is cry over and over, “Oh God, Clint! Oh God, Clint!”
When he pulls his mouth away, I quickly scramble downwards and unbuckle his belt. As soon as his pants are off, I take him in my mouth and suck deeply and urgently. He groans and the sound spurs me to even more urgency. I keep sucking and moaning, desperate to make him cum as hard as he made me cum.
Suddenly, he lifts me up, and before I even realize what’s happening, his cock is inside me and I explode again. This orgasm is far more powerful than the first one, and I grip the sheets under me in an instinctive attempt to regain some control over my body.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to fail at something as I am to fail at regaining control, because the next instant, Clint flips me around so I’m on my hands and knees, screaming as another orgasm turns me into a convulsing mess around his deeply thrusting cock.
“Oh my God, you’re so big!” I cry out when I can speak again.