Let Me Count The Ways (6 page)

“Oh.” Closing her eyes again she snuggled back into the pillow. “Thanks, but not necessary.”

“Actually, it is,” I insisted. “I’m giving you a massage so, unless you want your underwear covered in oil, these clothes have to go.”

“A massage, huh?”

I nodded. “I’ve noticed you’ve been looking tense lately; I figured this might help relax you.”

“Tense?” That got her eyes open wide. She rolled over on her back, propped herself up on her elbows and gazed skeptically at me. “I look
tense
to you?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Well, no, not
now
you don’t. But, speaking in general, over the last few months? Yeah, you have.”

She stared at me a moment longer, then shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Well, I already
knew
I was right, but it seemed less than diplomatic to say so. I gestured at her leg. “So? May I continue?”

Without answering, she bent her leg at the knee, giving me access to the clip at the back of her thigh. I took that as a yes and slid my hand there, reveling in the warmth and softness of her skin.

Eyes hooded, she continued to watch me as I un-did the clasp and then carefully rolled the stocking down her leg. With her foot in my hand I paused just long enough to press a brief kiss against the tops of her toes. Then I tossed her stocking aside and repeated the process with her other leg, trying not to stare too openly at the rise and fall of her chest, at her lush, round breasts with their hard, rosy peaks. Not that I altogether restrained myself either, of course. I mean, why the hell would I do that? Chances like this didn’t come along every day. I’d be a fool not to take full advantage of one when it did.

When the second stocking had joined the first, Claire lifted her hips in mute invitation. I hooked my fingers into the lace at either side and pulled garter and panties away from her. Her bare mound came into view, taking me somewhat by surprise. The total lack of pubic hair hadn’t really registered during the brief glimpse I’d gotten earlier and not even her movies had prepared me for the sight I’d just uncovered. My blood boiled as her legs fell open wider. I found myself staring, mesmerized by the sight, by the pretty pink folds of flesh that glistened so temptingly.

“I believe you said something about a massage?” Claire murmured in teasing tones.

“Hmm?” I wrenched my eyes away with difficulty. My gaze drifted up towards her face, taking the slow, scenic route past all her naked glory. “What?”

Claire arched one eyebrow. “My massage?”

Crap. So much for repairing the damage I’d done with my earlier performance. Here I was, acting like an ass all over again.

“Right.” Standing, I gathered up her clothes. “Why don’t you roll over on your stomach and I’ll get started.

Averting my eyes as she repositioned herself on the bed, I dropped Claire’s stockings and garter on top of her shoes. Her panties I let fall in the space between the table and the bed where I hoped they’d go unnoticed.

Inexcusable, I know, but given how badly I was screwing up, I suspected this was likely to be a one time event. That being the case, I knew I’d need something with which to console myself in the years ahead.

I lifted the bottle of massage oil from the pot of water, where I’d put it to warm up, and poured some into my palm. The heady sweet scents of almond, honey amber and musk filled the air as I rubbed my hands together. Using a light effleurage stroke I quickly covered Claire’s back with the oil, and then coated her arms and legs as well. Then I turned away to remove the first rock from the pot.

“Well, that was very nice,” Claire said as she started to get up. “Thank you.”

I glanced at her over my shoulder and frowned. “No you don’t. Where do you think you’re going? Lie back down. We’re just getting started.”

She looked surprised, but she did as I said. I squirted oil over the stone in my hand and then turned back to her.

“
That
was not the massage,” I said as I brushed the hair away from her neck and then began to gently rub the stone in small circles down her neck and across her shoulder. “
That
was just getting you ready. Are you always this impatient?”

“Yes,” she replied, biting the word out sharply, and I couldn’t decide whether her tone was teasing or annoyed. “Actors have very short attention spans. Are
you
always so bossy?”

I sighed. “Probably. I’ve been running my own company for a long time now. I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Hmph,” she muttered darkly. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” And then we both fell silent. The muscles at the back of her neck were knotted. I rubbed harder. I’d been right about the tension. For an instant, I actually considered telling her that. Luckily, I reconsidered the impulse. Being right was a lot like being boss. Invaluable in business but, more often than not, a complication everywhere else.

“Omigod,” Claire murmured a moment later. “What
is
that? Whatever you’re doing, it feels wonderful.”

“Haven’t you ever had a hot stone massage? The heat is supposed to help relax the muscles and the pressure is different from what you can get using just your hands.”

“I see. I guess you must do this sort of thing often.”

I switched hands and went to work on the other side of her neck. “Well, no, I wouldn’t say often. Occasionally though.”

“So... you just happened to have everything you needed on hand? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“It doesn’t take much, you know. Just massage oil. Rocks. A pot to heat them up in. It’s really pretty simple.”

“Simple. Right.” Claire shook her head. “Amazing. Fashion. Architecture. Decorating. Classic cars. Hot stone massage. Next thing you’ll tell me is that you mix your own massage oil too.”

My hand faltered. “Well, yeah, actually, I--I did.”

“Unbelievable. Mike, are you
sure
you’re an accountant?”

I laughed. “I guess you’d better hope I am, huh?”

“I guess so,” she muttered. “Jeez. You’re full of surprises tonight.”

“Good surprises, I hope?” I quipped lightly.

Claire sighed and it was a moment before she answered. “Very good. Just very... unexpected.”

I suppose that sigh, and the pause that followed it, should have worried me more than it did, but I was too focused on what I was doing to think that much about anything else. Taking a fresh rock from the water I massaged her arms and hands before changing rocks again and continuing down her back.

I mixed things up a little as I went along. In places I used one rock, other places two, and sometimes I used just my hands. When the urge arose to trail hot kisses down her spine, to caress the small of her back with my lips and tongue, I had to struggle to restrain myself. Once I started down that path, I knew I’d never be able to stop.

I gently plucked and pummeled the flesh of her butt cheeks and then stroked lightly along her crease with the backs of my fingers; longing to do more. I longed to take her flawless, creamy flesh between my teeth; to suck and nip until I’d marked her as my own. I wanted to slide my fingers inside her wet channel and test her warmth; wanted to spread her legs wide, pry open her lips, taste her juices on my tongue. Instead, I moved on. I massaged her legs--first one, then the other--slowly stroking and kneading all the way to her feet.

“Flip over and let me do you from the front,” I said as I reached for a fresh rock.

A soft, sultry laugh purled up Claire’s throat as she rolled onto her back and propped herself up, once again on her elbows. “You do know how dirty that sounded, don’t you?”

Dirty? I turned to face her and my gaze drifted hungrily over her body. As I said, up until now I’d been holding back; using mostly relaxing touches and strokes. But I’d paid the price for my manners. My balls were aching with unconsummated lust. “Not nearly as dirty as I could make it feel, if I weren’t trying to be such a gentleman.”

“A gentleman?” Claire’s eyes lit up at that. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” I smiled back at her. “It is. Why? Don’t believe me?”

“I’d never say that,” she murmured, lowering her eyes demurely. “Although, I must admit, I’ve never really thought being a gentleman was all it’s cracked up to be.” I waited, hoping she’d say more. Finally she shrugged. “So, if it’s dirty you want... why not just go for it?”

Which was all the encouragement I needed. Dropping the rock back into the pot, I picked up the bottle of massage oil, placed a finger beneath Claire’s chin and tipped her head back.

“Unh,” she gasped in surprise as the warm oil streamed over her, coating her neck, her chest, cascading between her breasts, flowing over her belly, all the way to her mound. I knew the bedcovers would be forever stained with the oil, but I couldn’t have cared less. Tossing the bottle aside, I straddled her hips.

I could feel her heart pounding as I skated my hands through the oil; up the center of her chest, up and around her neck; until they were buried in the hair at the back of her head. As my fingers massaged her scalp and the lobes and rims of her ears, I lowered my mouth to hers, and kissed her deeply.

“How’s that?” I finally lifted my head to ask.

Claire’s eyes fluttered open. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

“I won’t,” I promised, as I rubbed slow circles along her forehead and over her temples. “Now close your eyes again and lie back.”

“Yes, Mike.” She complied immediately.

“Good girl,” I murmured, rewarding her with soft kisses on her eyelids.

Pressing gently, my fingers slowly traced the shape of her eye-sockets and then the bridge of her nose. Then they moved down to her jaw line, to her throat, to her shoulders. And, all the while, I studied her face, searching for clues about what was going on inside her head. Her sudden show of submission had taken me by surprise. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting. Not that I really knew what to expect at this point. The whole evening had been one surprise after another. About the only thing that wasn’t surprising me was my own response.

The dominant side of my nature was something I’d long ago recognized. I’d told her I was used to being the boss, and that was certainly true. But what I hadn’t said was that the trait had never been confined to business. Command was something that had always come naturally to me. I liked it, felt comfortable with it, was good at it. Wanted it.

In the bedroom, however, it was something I generally tried to suppress. Claire’s every action tonight was making that less and less possible.

Unable to completely resist the impulse, I slid my hands down her arms and took hold of her wrists. Claire gasped in surprise as I swept her arms up behind her head “Grab hold of the headboard,” I whispered against her ear. “Keep your eyes closed and don’t move again until I tell you to.”

I told myself I did it mainly to test her. But I might have been lying to myself. I might have done it purely for the thrill it gave me. In either case, I knew I was safe. At this point I could still pass it off as a joke, if I had to. As it turned out, however, no such subterfuge was necessary.

A red flush stained Claire’s cheeks as she twined her fingers willingly through the wrought iron bars. Then she held herself motionless, seeming scarcely to breathe.

Dick throbbing at the sight of her tightly curled fists, I stared at her uneasily. Just how badly were the events of the night affecting my judgment? On one hand, I
knew
this was what we both wanted. On the other... what the hell made me think I knew
anything
about what Claire might want? She was an actress! This could all be part of an act, couldn’t it? Maybe I was imagining things--seeing only what I wanted to see. Maybe Claire had intuited my needs and was merely playing along, humoring me.

I stroked my hands down her arms again, taking comfort in the shivers that coursed through her, from the tiny smile that played across her lips. She could be acting, I supposed, but why would she do that? What was in it for her? A laugh at my expense? If that was all she was after, she was taking the joke a little far.

Her closed eyes made me bolder than I might have been otherwise. Bold enough to tell her what I was thinking. “I guess it’s no secret how I feel about you,” I said as my hands moved slowly over the top of her slick, oil-coated chest, gently kneading the muscles there, trying to proceed as planned with her massage. “You must have known it all along.”

A slight frown creased Claire’s forehead. “I’m not sure I--Known what?”

“How big a fan I’ve always been. The fact that I’ve loved you for years. You knew that, right?”

“Oh.” Her lips quirked. “Well, you, um, did sort of mention being a fan when we met.” She opened her eyes and gazed at me steadily. “I hope you know that’s got nothing to do with why I’m here tonight, Mike. Much as I appreciate my fans, I really don’t go around sleeping with all of them, either, you know.”

“I certainly hope not,” I replied, dropping my gaze. It was insane, I know, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit jealous at the thought. Sure, she
said
that wasn’t the reason she was with me now, but how did I know for certain? How could I separate the woman from the actress? Maybe that was
exactly
why she was here. Sex with an adoring fan--that would have to be a gigantic boost to anyone’s ego. Who wouldn’t want that from time to time?

My hands swept outward along her chest, curving down and around her breasts and then in again over her midriff, until my thumbs met in the center of her rib cage. “That would be a very bad idea,” I cautioned. “You’d only end up completely exhausting yourself if you tried doing that.”

Claire’s body shook with laughter. “Well, yeah, exactly. Besides, with so many of them, how could I fit them all in?”

How indeed?

“I mean, I’d have to double up, or something. Take ‘em two or three at a time.”

Images appeared in my mind, conjured by her words, and my body flooded with lust and adrenaline. My hands stilled. I schooled my features into neutrality, glanced up at her face and frowned. “Did I tell you to open your eyes?”