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I pushed the thoughts aside as I made my way to the bathroom, wishing I could take a long, leisurely bath and relax the rest of the evening. I had to be close to my phone and able to leave if he – if they – needed something.
But I also needed to get some sleep in case a call came in the middle of the night.
Except I was far too tense to sleep. I was too keyed up to even manage to drift like I had so many times when Mikala was first born, and I'd been worried I'd sleep through her crying.
There was one way, I knew, I could ease some of this tension. In the three years since I left Elroy, I hadn't done it often, and perfunctory had always been the word for it. Right now, however, I found myself wanting to do it. Needing it, actually, and for more than just the release.
It was definitely unprofessional. But who was going to tell me I couldn't fantasize about the handsome high roller in the privacy of my own home? It had been a long time since I'd had the place completely to myself, and something about my afternoon with Dorian had put me on edge in a way no interaction with a man had in a very long time.
I slipped out of my pencil skirt and unbuttoned my shirt, letting them slide silently to the floor as I crawled on top of the covers of my bed. For the first time in years, I let myself indulge in reverie.
I imagined that the cotton under my palms and knees was silk instead. The silk of his bedspread, perhaps. Fortunately, I knew what the suite I'd given them looked like, so I was able to create a quite vivid picture in my head as I leaned back against the pillows.
I closed my eyes and let the hand that slid along the curve of my breasts turn into his hand. I remembered the way it felt in the brief moment I'd held it – rough and calloused. I tried to imagine how it would feel if he touched me, how my body would quiver and quake for him.
I flicked open the front clasp of my bra and moved my hand over bare skin. As my free hand slid across my belly, I squeezed my breast. A shiver ran through me as I teased my nipple, rolling and tugging the sensitive flesh. I was already wet by the time my finger dipped between my folds and started massaging that delicate bundle of nerves.
Dorian's smile flashed behind my closed eyelids. He seemed like the type who rarely smiled, and almost never smiled with any sincerity. He was a brooder, the sort of man who worried over a problem until he found a solution. Now, I pretended that all that focus was being applied to me and my pleasure.
I knew I was getting a bit overly detailed in my fantasy, but hell, it was my fantasy, wasn't it?
I could almost feel his mouth moving across my skin. Light kisses over my breast and down my stomach, heading down to where my fingers were still moving in tight, slow circles. I let out a soft moan as I imagined what it would be like to have his mouth on my breast, licking and sucking my nipples. If he'd use his teeth or be gentle. If he'd work a finger into me while still paying attention to my breasts, or would that be when he'd start moving down between my legs.
I pictured him hiding his smile against my thigh, the faint scruff on his cheek rough against my soft skin. Maybe his raven-black hair would be a little messed up, but neither of us would care. I'd just want to run my fingers through it, see if it was as soft as it looked.
And then, as he buried his head between my legs, I'd cry out his name...
I arched up and moaned, orgasm beating at the fringe of my awareness. I was nearly there, and each stroke of my fingers brought me closer to ecstasy and further away from reality. Deeper into my fantasy.
The hot press of his lips on my clit, the movement of his finger inside of me, and a dark chuckle as I came apart in his hands...
I cried out and fell back on the bed, shuddering with the force of my climax. Holy shit, that was intense. When was the last time I'd come that hard?
I just lay there for a while, letting my breathing and pulse slow as I enjoyed the peace and quiet.
It'd been a little over the top, I supposed, but given the fact that I would never actually sleep with Dorian, that wasn't really a problem for me. He wouldn't be interested in someone like me. I had more baggage than a commuter train and was no more glamorous than any random woman he could find anywhere. I had no doubt that Dorian Gianelli dated supermodels who didn’t do anything more strenuous than pose and probably wouldn't drink out of the tap if they were dying of thirst.
The day had been long and stressful. I was exhausted, especially after that orgasm, and now all I wanted to do was eat, shower, and crash. I skipped the cereal and made myself some pasta and ate it in front of the TV. As soon as I finished eating, I showered and then headed straight back to bed. If nothing else, I should sleep well.
That was my last thought before I fell into unconsciousness.
At first, I thought it was my alarm. That loud, insistent ringing that somehow managed to rattle my bones from across the room. Then I realized that it was still dark out.
I sat bolt upright and lunged for my phone in the darkness, the light from its screen telling me where I'd left it. Panic sent adrenaline racing through my veins. Was it Mikala? Had something happened to her?
But it wasn't my ex's name on the caller ID. It was a private number, which confused me for a moment until I remembered that I currently had two VIP clients who could reach me by my personal cell.
“Hello?” I answered, hoping I didn't sound like I'd just woken up. Even if it was well past midnight.
“Briana, it's Dorian.”
My heart did a flip in my chest, and I couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or not. What Dorian said next, however, captured my attention completely.
“I need you to come right away. Enzo's in trouble.”
