Page 16 of Sally Jones

I slipped my room number, written on a cocktail napkin, in front of him. “Would you like some dinner?”

He was at my door ten minutes after I’d entered my room. I let him in, wearing the hotel robe and lacy thong underwear. He smiled, the suave satisfied grin of a cat, and hauled in the table. “You probably want your massage first, no?”

“Yes.”

He snapped the table into place with quick easy movements and spread out the sheets that had been trapped inside. I’d put on music and dimmed the lights. He stalked over to me and untied my robe. I shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor.

“Oh,” he said, running his hands down my front and sinking to his knees. “I like this, very much.”

“Dental dam, babe,” I said before his mouth landed where it was headed.

“Ahh. You have these?”

I rolled my eyes. They never thought of dental dams, and they were the ones with their mouths down there. I waved a hand toward a table with a pile of packets.

He picked me up from his crouched position, so my legs wrapped around his chest. I giggled, holding on to his hair. He plopped me on the table.

“We will do a little massage now, and more later. Don’tworry, I always keep my promises—which is why I rarely make them.”

I rolled over onto my stomach, dropping my head into the cradle and adjusting my breasts, which were tingling and hard-nippled. “Please, babe, rub my shoulders. Even two minutes. And take off your clothes.”

He slapped my bottom and I hummed, grinding a little against the table. “You will take off my clothes, Bella.” Oil squirted onto my back. He squeezed my traps hard and I groaned. Strong fingers dug into the tight muscles around my shoulder blades.

“Yes,” I moaned. He slapped me harder, lower on my butt cheeks. I spread my legs and raised my sex up. He muttered something in Spanish, his hands sliding down my body then positioning my hips up higher.

I was throbbing. Like really really ready, and when he slid two fingers inside me, I screamed into the table, pumping back on him. He yanked me up into his arms and carried me over to the bed, then tossed me onto the center.

I popped up and started pulling off his clothes. He stood there, breathing like a bull, while I unbuttoned his white linen shirt to reveal a hairless, sculpted chest. I ran my hands over it, humming. He shoved them down to his pants and I unbuckled his belt, while I kissed and bit his nipples. “You are one yummy, yummy man,” I muttered as I pushed down his zipper.

He pulled a string of condom packets out of his pocket and tossed them on the bed. I eyed them, glad to see they were quality and new. I ripped one open and pulled it out while he stepped out of his clothing. He was long and thick and very ready for me. I leaned forward and massaged him as I slid on the condom.

His head tilted back. “I am a little wild for you now, Bella. You’re turning me into a bestia.” Then he was on the bed, hisrough hands putting me in the position I’d been in on the massage table, nudging at me until he slid inside.

The night went on and I didn’t ask him to leave. I came hard and often. We worshipped each other’s bodies in between flirtatious small talk and massage. I was actually a decent masseuse, though a distracted one. Eleven o’clock came too quickly and I was yawning and closing my eyes. I gave up and lay down on the bed. He wrapped himself around me.

“You’re not leaving tomorrow, no?”

I sighed. More than one night seemed wrong. Wronger. Hank would stop talking to me. “I’m already in trouble for messing up with you, but he might forgive me. Not any more. I better go.”

“No.” He pulled me in tighter. “Give me a few days. We need to find what we dislike about each other, or I’ll be pining for you.”

“Sorry, babe. I’m not a good person but my guy is. Besides, someone else will come along for you, probably tomorrow.”

“We should see each other again. I will visit you. Your good man, he is far away, no? We are alike, I know you. You will not last long in this college without a lover who is closer. The good man will fade from your mind.”

“You belong in Los Angeles with your ménage. Or whatever,” I said groggily.

“Call me, Bella. There will be another time for us.”

I rolled my eyes, but fell asleep before I could think of anything to say. I wasn’t unaffected—it had been probably the best sex I’d had in my life. But I knew what happened when two cold-blooded snakes got together. As hot as he was, it seemed flat compared to someone who actually cared enough about me to cover my body with his when a bomb exploded.

Even so, we woke up early and indulged in another marathon of screwing. At one point he held up a room service receipt and said, “Sally Jones? This is good to know but I will still call you Bella.” He took a picture of me, with the robe on so I let it pass.

We kissed for a long time at my door. “You are the most wonderful thing that has happened to me this summer,” he said, in between last kisses. He stuffed more of his business cards into my robe pockets.

“That was the best massage of my life.” I grinned up at him.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “I am very angry with you for leaving me.”

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