Holly Barros hated her sex drive.
***
She would be a good girl. Like
right now.A good girl wouldn’t purse her lips in fascination at the muscles in another man’s shoulders as he dug a phone out of his back pocket. His enormous hand dwarfed the device. Wide, sensual fingers danced over the glass surface.
Big hands, big cock, Blaine’s werewolf cousins used to whisper when they watched soccer games and compared the players. He would have to have a horse dick to fit those broad hands. Her throat dried.
***
His
outstretched hand was cool and dry as he helped her up from the couch. He
placed his hands on her hips and guided her to his bedroom. “We have the time.
I’m sure we can do it more than once. Math majors are fun that way.”More than once? Wow.
“I’m not orgasmic,” she warned.
“I’m not goal oriented,” he replied.
***
Someone
knocked on the door.“Locksmith,” a voice called from the hallway.
“Coming,” Steven called back.
“No shit,” the locksmith yelled. “The whole building knows that.”
Steven laughed. She giggled, surprisingly proud of herself. Blaine could bite her. This is what really good sex was all about.
***
Celeste’s hand left
the camera frame and re-emerged with a full martini glass, complete with lemon
twist. “My dear. There are no cures for a broken heart. But the best bandages
are copious amounts of champagne, ridiculously expensive shoes, and a
procession of nubile men.”
***
She wanted a life filled with pleasure. The
big joys, too, like the epiphanies of generosity, not just bodily sensations such
as food and drink and scent, but the sensuality of intellectual stimulation.How many times had she come back from a challenging lecture on the politics of the emergence of the parallel court system ready to jump Blaine?
Cerebral pursuits turned her on.The corners of her mouth curved in delicious remembrance of Steven’s talented and curious body. Bliss and carnality and hedonism all conjoining with mental inspiration.
***
Being CEO of BarrosCorp was a difficult,
demanding job. The long hours, endless travel, and the relentless pounding
against the glass ceiling left Holly with certain needs.
Animalistic, carnal, raw needs. Needs that were about to be met.
***
“And
I see something that fits our vacation mood,” Celeste smiled. She beckoned to
someone behind Holly. A perfectly ripped young man in a Roman gladiator outfit
approached them, a golden tray of small bites on his shoulder. He
stopped in front of the two women.“Fruit, ladies? Chocolates, perhaps?”
“Some of us embrace the power of ‘and’.” Celeste said.