Posted by on Jul 19, 2013 in SLH Excerpts | 0 comments

From Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 3, Summer Season (CHAPTER 19: DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS)

I feel one strong hand run up the side of my leg, linger at my hip, play at the curve of my waist, and then move up my ribcage to the back of my neck.

He tugs at me and I feel him, hard, pressing up against me, his breathing deeper. He reaches around for my sex. It’s already wet. How could it not be? I’m lying in the soft, warm hues of his cool sheets, in a California king, overlooking the aquamarine of a pool through floor-to-ceiling windows, in the middle of the desert.

I move my hips up against his, until I know he can’t stand it any longer, then he rolls me onto my stomach, pinning me down with his weight, parting my thighs, and slowly sliding inside.

It sucks that we have to leave tonight, I think, biting at the pillow under me, arching my back to let him in further. I could stay here all week—even though I still don’t really know where “here” is. All he said when I asked where we were going for the tenth time last night after leaving Ireland’s boy toy’s party—and then again, as we pulled up to some hangar at Van Nuys Airport and were met by a portly pilot—was, “I have a place about an hour outside Las Vegas.”

And then I squealed. Like a little girl. Or like a drunk woman who just realized she was about to take her first ride in a private jet, with her new lover, and boss, Phillip Ferrari.

He smacks my ass. Hard. I grasp the edge of the bed with one hand and move my other hand where I can pleasure myself. His dick gets fuller, stiffer, until I feel him shudder. Did he just come inside me? I’m thrown off—but only for a millisecond, because in some bizarre way it makes me hot, and I’m able to finish myself before he rolls off. Even though he never asks.

Just like he didn’t ask if it was all right to come inside me just now, which surprises me since after our third fuck in his office, he opened up the credenza and took out a piece of paper.

“I don’t like using condoms,” he said, sliding the sheet in front of me.

I examined it for a moment, his clean bill of health, and realized that Phillip Ferrari was going to be a very…different relationship.

The day before the party, I dropped an envelope on his desk. “Neither do I.”

To Be Continued…

COPYRIGHT
Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 3, Spring Season by Dorota Skrzypek.
Copyright 2012 by Dorota Skrzypek.
ISBN 0-9768869-2-1
All Rights Reserved.

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