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Chapter Twelve
Craig
As I walk out onto the patio, I catch sight of Vanessa standing alone on the far side, near where the woods begin and the trail leads off into the wilds. She seems rather uncomfortable, like she's waiting for someone to tell her where to go and what to do. But I barely notice all of that. My focus has become glued to her body and the costume painted onto her shapely figure. She's always beautiful, but now...I can hardly breathe while I drink in the vision of her. The younger women in the crowd can't hold a candle to Vanessa.
She's dressed like some sort of ancient Greek fantasy character, a goddess or a witch or who knows what. I don't care what her costume portrays. My focus has telescoped down to her body and nothing else. As I wend my way through the crowd, she seems unaware that I'm coming toward her, too busy scanning the patio for something or someone.
Whether she knows it or not, she's searching for me.
Vanessa startles when I halt in front of her. "Oh. I didn't see you coming."
"I know. What were you looking for?"
"Nothing, really. I think I'm having trouble getting used to the idea of a painted-on costume."
I rake my gaze over her, starting with her hair that's been fluffed up and has purple streaks in it. I would never have thought I'd like that, but I do. Her hair goes with her pseudo-outfit. I'd met Lucy, the body paint expert, earlier this evening when she sprayed on my costume, and I learned just how meticulous she is about making body paint look realistic. As I absorb the details of Vanessa's costume, though, I find it hard to concentrate on the artistry. All I can think about is how hot she looks.
Her breasts hang normally, but the way Lucy shaded the undersides makes it seem like they're being held up by a bra. The painted on garment looks like a cobalt-blue halter top with gold straps that crisscross her chest. She has fake tattoos splashed across her torso diagonally and more that wind around one leg. The tattoos remind me of patterns on ancient Greek pottery. The illusion of shorts covers her groin and upper thighs, similar to the way Wonder Woman's outfit looks, but without the stars-and-stripes motif.
For a moment, I stare at the necklace that drapes over her shoulders because I swear it's real. Then Vanessa shifts her feet a touch, and I realize the jewelry is an illusion too. That includes gold bracelets on her wrists. She seems to be wearing boots, but I quickly deduce that those are also illusions. Vanessa isn't just painted up like a Greek priestess. She is a genuine sex goddess.
My cock jerks, but I don't think she noticed that.
Vanessa skims her gaze over my body---and licks her lips, though that must be an unconscious gesture. "What are you supposed to be?"
I love that her voice has grown huskier. "Lucy told me I'm Hercules meets Conan the Barbarian."
"Whatever your costume is, I like it." She gives me another once over and licks her lips again. "I take that back. I don't like it, I love it."
That doesn't mean she lovesme, but I'll take what I can get. Damn, I need to make love to her, need it so fiercely that I can barely breathe. I want to lay her down on the soft grass and lick all that body paint off her skin.
She loves my costume because Lucy painted me up to look like an outrageously buff barbarian, complete with a faux loincloth. I have no clue how she accomplished that illusion. Lucy is a genius. She also shaded my body so that it seems like I have bigger muscles than I actually do.
I clasp Vanessa's hand, and she doesn't pull away. So, I push for a little more. "Want to go to your suite and sit on the patio?"
"We just got here. Wouldn't it be rude to sneak away right after the party started?"
"Do you care?" I move closer, still holding her hand, threading my fingers with hers. Then I lower my head until my lips brush the shell of her ear. "I want you, Vanessa, even more than I did on the beach. You are the most beautiful, sensual woman on earth, and I need to lick that costume off your skin."
"The beach was a one-time thing. We agreed to that."
"No, you told me that's what it was. I never agreed to anything." I flick my tongue out to tease her lobe. "The way you looked at me when you first saw me, it proved that you want me to fuck you."
Her breasts are rising and falling more heavily. "We shouldn't. I don't want you to get the wrong idea about us."
The wrong idea? I love her. There's nothing wrong about that. I can't show her how I feel while we're surrounded by people, which means I need to convince her to go with me to her suite. And I know exactly how to do that.
I pull her earlobe into my mouth, coiling my tongue around it over and over until she sucks in a sharp breath. Her nipples have hardened. I slide my hand into her hair to tip her head back. Then I drag my tongue up the column of her throat, flicking it to arouse her even more, and wait for the sign.
She sighs, and her posture relaxes.
Bingo. I claim her mouth and slide my tongue between her lips. Rather than pulling away, she grasps my biceps and teases my tongue the way I'm teasing hers. She releases the sweetest, most erotic little grunt.
I peel my lips away from hers. "Your suite?"
"Yes, please, now."
Still holding her hand, I lead her across the patio and through the lobby, straight down the corridor where her suite lies. She fumbles to unlock the door with her keycard, which she had retrieved from the front desk, finally managing the task on the third try. We hurry into her room, but when she starts to head for the bed, I grab her arm and pull her back to me, caging her against the door. Then I press my body to hers.
