“Okay.” Seemed that was all I was going to get. At least for now.
He ran his thumb over my lower lip. His hand smelled like expensive soap, and his rolled sleeves showed a nice, strong forearm, and just the edge of a tattoo.
“What’s with all the questions?” he asked. “Are you a private detective or something?”
With the damn mask, I couldn’t tell if he was serious or pulling my leg.
I leaned toward him and whispered, “Why yes. I am a private detective. I’m here to gather information on—” I looked for someone to gesture toward. “Him. That gentleman over there.”
“Why? What did he do?” He leaned in conspiratorially, playing along.
“Rumor has it...” I paused and looked around for dramatic effect. “That he waters his lawn when California’s in a drought.”
G laughed from behind his mask, shaking his head.
Whew. Close one.
So far, I hadn’t gathered much of anything to build a story around. But I’d gotten a ton of material that I could…um…dream about. That sort of thing.
I stood. Time for good-byes. I saw P on the other side of the room, having fun with a new couple—a very expensively dressed man, and a woman who looked like a model. She moved back and forth between kissing the two of them.
Damn.
I caught her eye, and she waved and blew me a kiss. So I blew one back.
When in Rome…
I turned to G, yawning dramatically. “I need to head home. Early morning.”
He stood slowly and tilted his head at me. “I’ll walk you out.”
As we approached the ground floor, he stopped me on the stairs and seized a shank of hair from the back of my head.
Holy shit.
With a tug, he pulled my head back, holding it close enough to his face that I could hear his breath.
I closed my eyes, tumbling into the sensation of a strange man taking control. And as soon as I did, he spun me around to bend me over the stair railing. With my balance thrown off, there was no choice but to lean all my weight on it. He’d seized the upper hand. Not that I minded.
I hadn’t come to play, but if I were an ice queen, wouldn’t that raise suspicion?
Oh hell, who was I kidding. I was dying for release. Watching all that fucking was not for the faint of heart, and especially not for someone who badly needed to get off. The atmosphere was irresistible.
I wouldn’t have made it home without at least one good orgasm in the car.
“Pull down your jeans,” he growled, tightening his grip on my hair.
My hands flew to unbutton my pants. I hesitated and glanced around, seeing people in various stages of undress all around.
So I undid my fly—all in the name of research—and pushed my jeans to just below my ass cheeks.
G followed by hooking a finger in the lace of my thong panty. In an instant, my ass was entirely bare, my sex throbbing from the thrill of exposure.
And strangely, there was no embarrassment. On the contrary, it was empowering. And fucking sexy as hell. Exhibitionism was underrated.
His warm hand ran over my ass, and then thwack! He’d smacked my right cheek good and hard. And just when the stinging reached its crescendo, his large palm relieved my burning skin with a soft, smooth touch, calming the fire.
Thwack!
This time he’d smacked my left ass cheek. And again, as my flesh screamed in pain, he soothed me. For a moment, I considered protesting out of decorum, having never been spanked before. But the truth was, I wanted him to continue. It was confusing as hell. The more turned on I got, the more confused I became, vacillating between wondering if our play was okay or whether it was degrading, and admitting I loved it.
His lips touched my ear. “You like that, my little friend? You like having your sweet ass smacked till it’s bright pink? You should see it. So pretty, all worked up.”
I just nodded. I couldn’t speak.
As my flesh cooled, his fingers tickled the crack of my ass. I squirmed from the sensation, earning myself another smack. And then another
I squeezed my thighs together in hope of some relief. But I knew there was only one thing that would help.