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“We’re getting back to that massage now.”
His hands are under my skirt again, tracing me through the layer of my lacy panties. He runs his knuckle along them, creating just enough friction to make me wish this were skin-to-skin contact. But I know better than to give him instructions now.
He groans. “Tell me what color your panties are.”
My cheeks flame. He can’t actually expect me to answer that, can he?
Michael quirks an eyebrow when I don’t answer.
I drop my gaze to the pool deck, whispering, “White lace.”
“Before the end of the night, you’re going to show them to me. You’ll be standing in front of me in only your panties. Do you understand?”
I swallow and nod even as dread fills me. I can’t imagine he’ll like what he sees. But maybe that’s just something he’s saying. Something to get me off.
Then he slips his fingers beneath my underwear and traces my folds gently. He makes a strangled noise. “Fuck, you’re bare.”
“I like the way it feels,” I admit. I never imagined my boss would know I get Brazilians. The shame has me burying my head in his shoulder so he can’t see my face or know how deeply arousing this is for me.
He finds my clit, and he begins a steady rhythm of teasing me. He strokes twice then stops only to start again. The next time he does it, I’m coming against his hand and whimpering into his suit coat.
He continues to touch me, extending my pleasure again and again until one orgasm bleeds into the next.
When it finally ends, I give a shaky laugh and put my head against his chest. His heart is pounding as hard as my own. “I’ve never had anything like that.”
“The evening isn’t over,” his voice is a rumble beneath my ear.
The words fill me with delight. “Do I get to touch you now?” I don’t know how to touch him. But if I can make him feel half as good as he just made me feel, then I’ll be doing something right.
“No, you’re going upstairs to the VIP hotel room where you’ll take off your clothes except for those panties. I’ll be up there shortly to finish what we’ve started.”
Maybe he will be my first. The thought makes me feel giddy and nervous at the same time.
He rearranges my skirt. “The entire time you’re waiting for me, I expect you to touch yourself. I want your warm pussy dripping wet and ready for me to slide into the moment I’m in the room.”
I nod as he helps me to my feet. I’m not sure what to say to his naughty instructions.
“And Katie?” He grabs my elbow before I can leave the poolside. “You do not have permission to come.”
6
KATIE
I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror. But no matter how I twist or turn, I can’t see anything remotely desirable staring back at me.
I reach for a silky white robe from the hotel and wrap myself up in it. Technically, I did what Michael said.
Once I’m in the robe and covered again, I feel better. I move around the room, dimming all the lights. If he can’t see me, maybe he won’t be disgusted by my body.
When I hear the sound of male laughter in the hall, I pause and listen for Michael. But the sound eventually moves further away.
Losing your virginity isn’t a big deal.
I remind myself of this as I finger comb my hair for the millionth time. I wish I had the kind of relationship with my mom that meant I could call her and ask for advice, that she would tell me what to do.
But my mom’s idea of sex education was handing me a pack of condoms and lube when I was thirteen. She said if I ever lost weight, they would come in handy.
I reapply a fresh coat of lipstick and tell myself that I’ve written dozens of sex scenes and imagined being with Michael a thousand times.
