First time at Blue Moon Bay? Start at the beginning:
September 6 ~ Will
September 13 ~ Renee
September 20 ~ Will
September 6 ~ Will
September 13 ~ Renee
September 20 ~ Will
September 27th ~ Anna
I lifted my hair off the back of my neck and wondered how I’d ended up here, in this big house by the water, looking at myself in another woman’s mirror.
“Anna, babe, what are you thinking about?” Bruce pulled my hair to the side and kissed my neck. His hot breath crept across my collarbone and made me want to tell him exactly what I was thinking. “How’s the new Range Rover?” he asked.
“It’s not mine,” I unfairly fired back. “If it were mine, I’d have a title in my hand with my name on it.”
Bruce stepped back. He had little time for what he’d often referred to as my “insolence.” I preferred it to being called ungrateful by him. I wondered if Bruce’s wife was properly beholden to him. I assumed she was fucking him for his money, too. If she was even fucking him.
“Do you and Martinique have sex often?” I asked and ran my hand down the pearls that hung from the corner of a wooden frame as if they were boardwalk beads strung from a car’s rear view mirror.
Bruce sighed and leaned back against the counter. “It’s different with my wife.”
He never said her name to me.
“How so?” The emptiness that infected me since I’d first been with Will settled into my bones. He’d drilled a hole through me only he could fill with that innocent, almost dopey sense of possibility. I smiled just thinking of him.
“She doesn’t suck my dick anymore.” Bruce said and moved behind me. He stared at me in the mirror and cupped his hand over my groin. He pressed his fingers against me in a throbbing tempo. He’d done the same thing on our first date. Box seats at the Beyoncé concert where he’d reached around and touched me inappropriately in the dark. It had moved me differently when in between songs he'd whispered to me about the private jets and vacations to Spain and the apartment he’d rent me in The Haven at Blue Moon Bay so that he could see me whenever he wanted. Now, it was just a finger touching my clit. Then, it had been the only choice I had and the best one I’d ever been offered. Condos and cars weren’t given to girls from Polk County. I’d never even seen a Range Rover in person before I'd met Bruce.
“Play me a song,” he whispered in my ear.
I fought the feeling of dread rising inside of me and managed to ask, “Why?” It had always been Bruce’s thing. He loved to watch me touch myself more than having me himself. He would sit ten feet away from me as if I were on a stage, “playing music” as he called it.
“Because nothing gets my dick harder than you.”
“Then why not just fuck me?”
He yanked me around to meet his eyes. “Why so difficult tonight, Anna?” He took a long breath and released me. Violence was not Bruce’s thing. Control was. “Does it have anything to do with the new friends you’ve been hanging around?”
He might have me naked…in his wife’s bed, but I wasn't letting him into the other corners of my life.
“Where do you want me?” I said and smiled to change his mind.
His triumphant expression told the story of a man who’d forgotten what he was saying. “On the edge of the bed.” His eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other. “No.” He went to the French doors leading to the balcony and looked out into the darkness. “Right here.”
“Someone will see me.”
“I’d love that,” he practically moaned.
“That’s not happening.”
Bruce moved the pretty chair from the corner of the room to the stream of moonlight beaming through the door. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, and motioned toward the seat. “The stage is yours.”
I resisted the urge to sigh in frustration and moved toward the chair. I sat on the arm even though I knew that would annoy Bruce. He had probably picked out the upholstery and designed the carved wood arms himself, but I was as interested in pissing him off as I was getting him off. Bruce needed to be in charge, but I had to test the limits of his power for him to feel it.
He sat on the edge of his bed with his knees spread. I knew he was already courting a hard on. “Don’t make me wait, Anna.”
I kicked off my sneakers and yanked my tank over my head.
“Slower,” Bruce snapped. “You know better.”
“Of course.” My voice was sweet and submissive. The way he liked me. “Is this better, Bruce?” I lifted my sports bra until my breasts fell beneath it. I grabbed each one and rubbed my nipples while my head fell back in contrived pleasure.
“Yes.” He inhaled loudly and lifted his chin, but never took his eyes off me.
I fell back into the chair sideways and let my legs hang over the arm. A small water mark on the ceiling caught my eye. It was conspicuous in Bruce’s perfect waterfront mansion. Like me.
Bruce sighed and reminded me there was only one way I was getting out of there.
I stood, uninspired, and dropped my yoga pants to my ankles. I wanted to ask where Martinique was. The answer would have been book club, children’s hospital foundation meeting, or ladies night out. Will flashed through my mind. His warm brown eyes and the way his shoulders curved beneath my hands. I would touch myself the way he touched me. The memory of my orgasm with him flooded me with longing until I sat down and spread my legs wide. I closed my eyes and saw Will’s adoring stare when he'd first slipped a finger into me, and I did the same, skipping immediately to two. There was no benefit to dragging this out.
I slid to the edge of the chair and laid back, touching my breasts and pinching my nipples with my free hand. My clit swelled as I rolled it beneath my finger and imagined Will’s tongue touching it instead. He’d teased me until every muscle and nerve stood frayed and waiting for his lips to set me on fire. I licked my fingers to wet them because it was impossible to mimic Will’s touch, but I would do almost anything to try.
My breaths were heavy. The familiar anticipation of an orgasm, the sweet, erotic loss of control, weighed on my chest and rolled through my groin. My head fell back as I touched and teased and tickled myself until heat emitted everywhere from my body and I wanted to call out Will’s name. I let go of my nipple and fingered myself while never easing up on my clit with the other hand…and then I heard the humming of Bruce’s favorite toy.
I’d missed his movements. I’d been so caught up in my fantasy of Will, but when Bruce slid the vibrator into me, I was pulled back to his Queen Anne chair. The pulsing motion was on and touched me everywhere as he moved it in and out of me.
“Keep playing with your clit,” he said. His voice was low and rough. “You’re pussy wants more.” He pressed the vibrator in further and my body thrust off the chair in response. Bruce leaned down and rasped near my ear. “More.”
I didn’t dare stop touching myself or reach out for him. This dance with Bruce had been performed a hundred times each ending with my orgasm and his exhaustion.
“Ah, Bruce,” I said, instead of Will. I stopped talking and focused on my clit and the throbbing dildo between my legs.
Bruce increased the speed of his rhythm and held my legs wide to view his work better. I shut my eyes and thought of Will. It was his fingers spread against my thigh. His tongue touching my clit, and his dick thrusting into me. The waves of heat swept from my core to my chest as the dildo forced the shallow breaths I gained to abandon me with every move. My mouth watered as the tiny tremors caused my muscles to tighten until I was exposed, knotted with energy, and desperate to be freed.
“I’m going to come.”
“Do it, Anna. Fucking come so hard you break this dildo.” He fucked me with it faster.
I let go of my nipple and reached out for Will, but he wasn’t there. My orgasm ripped through me, collapsing me into a ball with Bruce’s toy still in me.
When the shudders stopped, Bruce pulled the dildo out and licked it with his tongue dragging along the side.
“I think I’d like to take nursing classes,” I said and sat up in the chair.
“Whatever you want,” was his response as he disappeared into the bathroom to clean his toy and hide it from his wife.
***
I slipped through the side door, into the darkness, and down the trail toward the condominiums of The Haven at Blue Moon Bay. The light from the television in Will’s bedroom bounced through his window. I stopped at his place and stared at the door until I finally had the courage to knock.
“Anna?”
“I’m a little dirty,” I said. “But can I sleep here tonight?”
I fell asleep in his arms and dreamed of his warmth. He was the sun-drenched sands of a beach by the turquoise water, and like the ocean that you couldn’t drink from, Will would never be mine.
“Anna, babe, what are you thinking about?” Bruce pulled my hair to the side and kissed my neck. His hot breath crept across my collarbone and made me want to tell him exactly what I was thinking. “How’s the new Range Rover?” he asked.
“It’s not mine,” I unfairly fired back. “If it were mine, I’d have a title in my hand with my name on it.”
Bruce stepped back. He had little time for what he’d often referred to as my “insolence.” I preferred it to being called ungrateful by him. I wondered if Bruce’s wife was properly beholden to him. I assumed she was fucking him for his money, too. If she was even fucking him.
“Do you and Martinique have sex often?” I asked and ran my hand down the pearls that hung from the corner of a wooden frame as if they were boardwalk beads strung from a car’s rear view mirror.
Bruce sighed and leaned back against the counter. “It’s different with my wife.”
He never said her name to me.
“How so?” The emptiness that infected me since I’d first been with Will settled into my bones. He’d drilled a hole through me only he could fill with that innocent, almost dopey sense of possibility. I smiled just thinking of him.
“She doesn’t suck my dick anymore.” Bruce said and moved behind me. He stared at me in the mirror and cupped his hand over my groin. He pressed his fingers against me in a throbbing tempo. He’d done the same thing on our first date. Box seats at the Beyoncé concert where he’d reached around and touched me inappropriately in the dark. It had moved me differently when in between songs he'd whispered to me about the private jets and vacations to Spain and the apartment he’d rent me in The Haven at Blue Moon Bay so that he could see me whenever he wanted. Now, it was just a finger touching my clit. Then, it had been the only choice I had and the best one I’d ever been offered. Condos and cars weren’t given to girls from Polk County. I’d never even seen a Range Rover in person before I'd met Bruce.
“Play me a song,” he whispered in my ear.
I fought the feeling of dread rising inside of me and managed to ask, “Why?” It had always been Bruce’s thing. He loved to watch me touch myself more than having me himself. He would sit ten feet away from me as if I were on a stage, “playing music” as he called it.
“Because nothing gets my dick harder than you.”
“Then why not just fuck me?”
He yanked me around to meet his eyes. “Why so difficult tonight, Anna?” He took a long breath and released me. Violence was not Bruce’s thing. Control was. “Does it have anything to do with the new friends you’ve been hanging around?”
He might have me naked…in his wife’s bed, but I wasn't letting him into the other corners of my life.
“Where do you want me?” I said and smiled to change his mind.
His triumphant expression told the story of a man who’d forgotten what he was saying. “On the edge of the bed.” His eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other. “No.” He went to the French doors leading to the balcony and looked out into the darkness. “Right here.”
“Someone will see me.”
“I’d love that,” he practically moaned.
“That’s not happening.”
Bruce moved the pretty chair from the corner of the room to the stream of moonlight beaming through the door. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, and motioned toward the seat. “The stage is yours.”
I resisted the urge to sigh in frustration and moved toward the chair. I sat on the arm even though I knew that would annoy Bruce. He had probably picked out the upholstery and designed the carved wood arms himself, but I was as interested in pissing him off as I was getting him off. Bruce needed to be in charge, but I had to test the limits of his power for him to feel it.
He sat on the edge of his bed with his knees spread. I knew he was already courting a hard on. “Don’t make me wait, Anna.”
I kicked off my sneakers and yanked my tank over my head.
“Slower,” Bruce snapped. “You know better.”
“Of course.” My voice was sweet and submissive. The way he liked me. “Is this better, Bruce?” I lifted my sports bra until my breasts fell beneath it. I grabbed each one and rubbed my nipples while my head fell back in contrived pleasure.
“Yes.” He inhaled loudly and lifted his chin, but never took his eyes off me.
I fell back into the chair sideways and let my legs hang over the arm. A small water mark on the ceiling caught my eye. It was conspicuous in Bruce’s perfect waterfront mansion. Like me.
Bruce sighed and reminded me there was only one way I was getting out of there.
I stood, uninspired, and dropped my yoga pants to my ankles. I wanted to ask where Martinique was. The answer would have been book club, children’s hospital foundation meeting, or ladies night out. Will flashed through my mind. His warm brown eyes and the way his shoulders curved beneath my hands. I would touch myself the way he touched me. The memory of my orgasm with him flooded me with longing until I sat down and spread my legs wide. I closed my eyes and saw Will’s adoring stare when he'd first slipped a finger into me, and I did the same, skipping immediately to two. There was no benefit to dragging this out.
I slid to the edge of the chair and laid back, touching my breasts and pinching my nipples with my free hand. My clit swelled as I rolled it beneath my finger and imagined Will’s tongue touching it instead. He’d teased me until every muscle and nerve stood frayed and waiting for his lips to set me on fire. I licked my fingers to wet them because it was impossible to mimic Will’s touch, but I would do almost anything to try.
My breaths were heavy. The familiar anticipation of an orgasm, the sweet, erotic loss of control, weighed on my chest and rolled through my groin. My head fell back as I touched and teased and tickled myself until heat emitted everywhere from my body and I wanted to call out Will’s name. I let go of my nipple and fingered myself while never easing up on my clit with the other hand…and then I heard the humming of Bruce’s favorite toy.
I’d missed his movements. I’d been so caught up in my fantasy of Will, but when Bruce slid the vibrator into me, I was pulled back to his Queen Anne chair. The pulsing motion was on and touched me everywhere as he moved it in and out of me.
“Keep playing with your clit,” he said. His voice was low and rough. “You’re pussy wants more.” He pressed the vibrator in further and my body thrust off the chair in response. Bruce leaned down and rasped near my ear. “More.”
I didn’t dare stop touching myself or reach out for him. This dance with Bruce had been performed a hundred times each ending with my orgasm and his exhaustion.
“Ah, Bruce,” I said, instead of Will. I stopped talking and focused on my clit and the throbbing dildo between my legs.
Bruce increased the speed of his rhythm and held my legs wide to view his work better. I shut my eyes and thought of Will. It was his fingers spread against my thigh. His tongue touching my clit, and his dick thrusting into me. The waves of heat swept from my core to my chest as the dildo forced the shallow breaths I gained to abandon me with every move. My mouth watered as the tiny tremors caused my muscles to tighten until I was exposed, knotted with energy, and desperate to be freed.
“I’m going to come.”
“Do it, Anna. Fucking come so hard you break this dildo.” He fucked me with it faster.
I let go of my nipple and reached out for Will, but he wasn’t there. My orgasm ripped through me, collapsing me into a ball with Bruce’s toy still in me.
When the shudders stopped, Bruce pulled the dildo out and licked it with his tongue dragging along the side.
“I think I’d like to take nursing classes,” I said and sat up in the chair.
“Whatever you want,” was his response as he disappeared into the bathroom to clean his toy and hide it from his wife.
***
I slipped through the side door, into the darkness, and down the trail toward the condominiums of The Haven at Blue Moon Bay. The light from the television in Will’s bedroom bounced through his window. I stopped at his place and stared at the door until I finally had the courage to knock.
“Anna?”
“I’m a little dirty,” I said. “But can I sleep here tonight?”
I fell asleep in his arms and dreamed of his warmth. He was the sun-drenched sands of a beach by the turquoise water, and like the ocean that you couldn’t drink from, Will would never be mine.
Come back next week for October 4th ~ Bruce when we meet Bruce's wife, Martinique.
Book Spotlight ~ My Name Is Not Isla
A man can’t set you free, only you can.
Backstage and in front of the world, a vicious record executive rules over his kingdom and the perfect little doll he’s created. He pulls the strings and poses her under the lights, and in the cage of the public eye she’ll remain, until one day…she takes flight. Where she lands only one man will know. A killer by trade, a lonesome soldier for hire. She runs. He follows. She hides. He seeks. As she plots her enemies’ demise, things will unravel. Because although he’s an unlikely friend, he’s in love with her and still being paid to watch her. They want her. They need to possess her. Most of all, they’ve underestimated her. |