Page 106 of Square Deal

Hannah Jane

Hardy-har-har. I take it you’re not in Canada yet, then.

Isaac

We’re still in the air. Figured I’d give you something nice to wake up to.

The wheels in my head started turning. I was still in the lace lingerie I wore under my poker night outfit. With a rush of excitement, I propped my phone up on my nightstand and hit record.

I prowled across the bed on my hands and knees, swaying my hips with extra sass. I gave the camera a close-up of my breasts as I opened my drawer of unspeakables and pulled out my preferred vibrating dildo.

Blowing a kiss at the camera, I laid on my side, tipped my legs open, and grazed my clit with the silicone head.

Was there anything better than an orgasm in the morning?

It wasn’t long before I was convulsing, thrusting the dildo deep into my pussy. I made a damn show of it, too. It made me feel sexy. Recording it gave me the same thrill Isaac had when he made me come in the middle of a burlesque club.

I knew the dancers saw his hands between my thighs and down the top of my dress through the dim light. There was no way in hell they didn’t. It was dirty and taboo, but there was nothing like the rush. The bite of fear.

I rode wave after wave of my orgasm, indulging in the memory of our illicit exhibitionism.

Giving the camera a sly smile, I sank my teeth into my lower lip before soothing, “Have a safe trip, Mr. Lawson.”

After hopping in the shower and getting ready for the day, I wasstill on pins and needles from the orgasm. I sent the video to him and then immediately deleted all traces of it from my phone and the cloud. The cloud was never to be trusted.

Isaac’s response was to the point.

Isaac

You bring me to my knees.

Isaac

That video almost made me wreck a very expensive pair of pants. This means war, Miss Hayes.

Hannah Jane

I’ll gird my loins.

Isaac

Or don’t. I prefer you bare under those skirts.

Bliss. Pure and utter bliss.

He had me floating on cloud nine all damn day. Halfway through party preparations, I slipped out of the inn to grab caffeine reinforcements at Queen’s. I was dragging more than usual.

Jogging down the sidewalk, I pulled my coat tighter to ward off the biting chill. My breath fogged in the frigid air. It was almost Christmas. I shoved aside the exhaustion to enjoy the magic of downtown Beaufort all decked out for the holidays.

The Taylor Creek Inn looked like it belonged in a Thomas Kinkade painting. Fresh fir branches dipped between each post of the massive waterfront wrap-around porch that guests loved to relax on. Giant wreaths and crisp red bows dotted the windows and doors.

I grabbed my coffee and nearly sucked it down in the two-minute walk back to the inn. Caffeine was necessary for survival at this point. Just one more damn day, and then I’d have a week off before the big New Year’s Eve party. I was feeling run down, but that was par for the course. Wedding season kicked my ass, and the inn was booked solid for the upcoming season.

I needed a vacation.

If newlyweds got to take a week off work to relax and recuperate after a wedding, I deserved a few days of spa treatments and putting my feet up. Maybe I’d see if Kristin wanted to get away for a long weekend.

Speak of the devil.

---