Chapter 3 #3
Her hand trailed up the same post Miquela leaned against. Although she didn’t touch her, she came close, those white fingertips grazing her suit sleeve. “June is fine,” she said.
Everything about you is fine, isn’t it?”
June’s knees inched forward, her other hand reaching for Miquela.
Now they touched. Her hand rested upon Miquela’s abdomen, pushing against her dress shirt and searching for the closest button.
Cutting straight to the chase. Miquela wanted to draw this out a little more, though.
Especially before her big reveal. Don’t scare her yet.
Time to start thinking of pristine beaches, devoid of all life but birds and the occasional crustacean.
“If I may be blunt, you’re pretty good looking, too.”
Did she not see many good-looking guests? “You’re going to turn me into a monster before I even have the chance to enjoy your company. Tsk. I’m paying for the whole night. That means you’re sleeping with me, June.”
“Whatever you want, ma’am.” June flung herself back, landing on her hands as she exposed the open back of her dress and pushed her ass into the air.
Shit. No, don’t do that yet. Miquela hadn’t been with a woman, whether because of work or travel, in what felt like too long.
In the realm of the world, it was what, three weeks?
“I’m open to anything. If you are, that is. ”
She wasn’t ready to know what things Miquela was into yet. “Can I get a drink first?”
June popped up, tossing her hair behind her.
The scent of floral shampoo hit Miquela in the face.
“Right this way, ma’am.” June stepped off her bed and gestured to a cherry wood Victorian couch in the middle of the room.
“What would you like?” She waited until Miquela was seated before rattling off what she had available.
Miquela took a glass of cognac. June poured it, her tight skirt riding up her ass until her guest caught a peek of black lingerie.
Oh, boy. Miquela averted her gaze when June turned around and brought over the glass. “Thank you.” She couldn’t drink fast enough – especially when a beautiful woman stood behind her and touched her shoulders, slipping into a massage that probably did not come cheap.
“So…” June began, fingers dancing upon Miquela’s chest. If she were wearing a tie, she would probably flip it against her face to make sure she was alive.
I am alive. Just not where you’re touching.
It was taking every ounce of self-control to keep herself in her clothes right now.
Her whole body knew. Where she was. What she was paying for.
It was a game between mind and body now.
A war, really. Her mind knew that there was protocol to follow in places like this, but her body told it to piss off.
It wanted to be on top of this woman. Now.
The more she touches me, the worse it will get…
until I have no choice but to take her. “Monaco, huh? I thought Bolivar was a Spanish name. Not to mention Miquela.”
Miquela drank. It wasn’t the best cognac she ever had, but she doubted the good stuff was located here. “I’m second-generation Monegasque. My family is from Spain, yes.”
“What do you do?” June’s idea of idle chatter before she made her intentions clear was either annoying or quaint. Miquela wasn’t sure yet. “All I know about Monaco is Grace Kelly, Monte Carlo, and casinos.” Her hands squeezed her shoulders.
“Casinos, yes. My family has casinos all over Europe, but we’re based in Monaco now.”
“So you’re visiting.” June said it with such finality that Miquela was surprised.
“Not really. I bought an apartment in the city.”
“Expanding business?”
“Perhaps.” Her tone implied that was the end of that conversation.
June slipped around the edge of the couch and knelt beside her.
They weren’t kidding. These women play it up.
Miquela had declared she was “always in control,” so naturally she got a girl who was as submissive as they came.
That could be good or bad. Submissive women went along with whatever Miquela wanted.
Almost too much so. Finding a girl willing to defer to her in the bedroom who still had a vibrant personality was too hard to find sometimes.
When she did find one… there were other obstacles.
The woman sat before her, curious. “What can I do for you tonight, ma’am? I’m skilled in many areas. Would you like a full massage?” Her fingers danced upon Miquela’s leg.
“Don’t suppose that comes with a happy ending, does it?”
June’s pretty grin could have ended Miquela right there. “Perhaps. I was told that cost is not an issue tonight.”
“What else did your madam tell you?”
She winked. “Enough.”
I doubt that.
“I can be blunt, if you’d like.” June sat up, straddling Miquela’s lap, forcing that tight skirt to ride even higher.
Miquela did not hide how much she stared at the lingerie lurking beneath.
Those are some serious thighs… and does she have dimples on her ass?
Miquela would have to conduct a thorough inspection later.
“Or I could be quiet. Whichever you like, ma’am. ”
Her hands were on Miquela’s shoulders, chest leaning toward her. Miquela could smell her breath, freshly caked in mint. “Always be blunt with me, June.”
She retained that smarmy grin as she caressed Miquela’s face and popped her top button open. “You might uncork something you could never stop up again if you give me permission.”
“Do your worst.” I have ways of shutting you up if I want.
As intoxicating as her gaze was, Miquela couldn’t help but second-guess herself. No telling what was about to fall from those pretty pink lips. “I’d like to fuck you, ma’am.”
Now, was that real candor, or rehearsed? It could go either way. June could’ve been taken in with Miquela within the five minutes they had known each other. Or she could be eager to make her money. As long as June played her part, Miquela supposed, she was fine with either.
“I was under the impression that such things were not for sale here.” She could play a fun game, too.
“You might be surprised. If I like you enough, I’ll let you have whatever you want.”
“You don’t know me.”
June draped herself all over her, those damned lips pressing lightly against Miquela’s cheek.
Shit. There was almost no stopping Miquela now.
She was awake now. Fully. Blood rushing to her mound the more she inhaled the scent of this woman.
She reeked of pheromones, and Miquela was a slave to them. Don’t let her know.
“I don’t need to know you to know that I want you inside me, Ms. Bolivar.
” Her knees were on either side of Miquela on the couch, but she did not lower her hips.
“I’m pretty simple, too. If I see a good-looking specimen who looks like she knows what she’s about…
I’m not gonna lie. I wanna fuck her.” The puff of her breath when she said that riled Miquela in ways she had not yet anticipated. “And kiss her. Can I kiss you, ma’am?”
Miquela rested her head on the back of the couch.
Wood dug into her skull. She didn’t care.
I wonder how many she’s fucked on this couch.
She sometimes thought those things when in these situations, her credit card on the verge of being abused from all the services she purchased.
That cognac alone… probably a hundred dollars a glass.
Miquela lowered her eyelids and slightly parted her mouth. “I’ve had a long day, June. Do whatever you wish.”
“Whatever I wish?” Those words taunted her lips. “I thought you liked to be in control. It’s one of the things I heard about you.”
“When I want to take control, I will.” Miquela opened her eyes. “Let a woman relax.”
“I exist to help you relax, Miquela.” With that, June kissed her, tongue already snaking across her flesh, infused with a wanton desire that did not usually come out this early.
Miquela had kissed many, many women. Perhaps hundreds.
A woman had to assume she had kissed twice as many as she had carnal relations with.
This accounted for the women who didn’t want to kiss her while they had sex.
June was not such a woman. Most of the ones working here probably weren’t, unless they were told to be.
Maybe I should tell her not to kiss me. Fat chance.
It had only been two seconds, and Miquela was already putting her hands on June’s hips and searching for her ass.
She intended to guide this encounter. She said she would take control later, but in reality, she was in control now.
Except for one thing. June was not what she seemed.
She was what Miquela had come to call a little deceptive joy.
She said one thing, but really meant the other.
In the bedroom, of course. So when she said June could do whatever she wanted, she really meant what she wanted.
Well, then. So much for gradually introducing her to the biggest problem around.
June slammed her hips down, her warm, lingerie-laden slit finding a strap-on big enough to make her eyes bulge.