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Rating: Mature
“So is the wedding reception finally over?” Leroy asked from the hotel chair when Polly entered.
Polly ran her eyes over the interloper. His tuxedo shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a smooth muscular chest. The man thought he was God’s gift to women, and Lord help her, so did she. “How did you get in?”
He nodded to the open second door in the room, the one that allowed adjoining hotel rooms to visit without going into the hallway. Of course, Karen and Giles would put them together. They didn’t know she had sworn to a strict “No Leroy” diet two months ago.
The man just moved in and took over her life whenever he was around. He demanded every last inch of space and every thought. Like right now, his tuxedo jacket was thrown on the hotel table and his cufflinks were in her earring jar. She could see his suits and luggage on his bed in the other room, but he had to enter her room and marked her space as his as well.
She may have been able to handle his dominating presence, except he also left just as abruptly. Whenever she thought the storm which blew him in was settling down, a vacuum would appear. His absences were never explained, nor his returns. And she could no longer live like that. Five years was enough.
Trying to put iron into her voice, Polly commanded, “Well, you can just go back the way you came in, Leroy.”
The lamp kept half his face in shadow, but the half she could see lit with smoldering determination in reaction to her juvenile attempt to take control. He lowered his left leg from where it was propped on the chair and slowly stood. He was a short man, only five eight, but his charisma poured to fill the corners of the room. Polly barely controlled the step back; she was not going to give ground to this man, never again.
His gaze raked over her body. The bridesmaid gown was a horrendous vibrant pink lace over royal purple satin which seared the eye. If one ignored the hue, the cut flattered her. The strapless gown used an inset corset to push up her bosom and hug her hips. The flowing satin and lace sheathe brushed the floor, hiding the five inch spikes the wedding party had used to bring her five foot frame level with the rest of the bridesmaids. Karen’s sister, Gloria, had worn flats and everything looked great for the photos. Staying in the shoes through the reception was a new type of torture. But it was that or look like a child playing dressup in her mother’s gown.
Her red hair was in a simple twist complemented by Karen’s bridesmaid gift of waterfall crystal earrings. No necklace or bracelets adorned the extensive bared flesh. A fact Leroy took advantage of by tracing one finger up her arm, making a slow circle and continuing it across the upper curve of her elevated breast. She had been having difficulty breathing all day because of the corset, now Polly stopped mid-inhale.
“Why would I want to do that after all the trouble I went to to get an invitation to the wedding?”
Polly could feel her mouth drying as he continued to draw his fingers across her chest. “Because… because…”Each pass his fingers went higher, dancing over her neck, and lower, almost dipping below the pink lace. “… this is not…” His lips claimed hers before she could complete her sentence.
Heaven returned in a tornado of emotions. Polly lips opened in invitation; she couldn’t stop herself. Leroy’s tongue slipped into the unguarded passage. One of his hands came up to grip the back of her head, the other slipped over her breast. His mouth demanded surrender and she turned over the white flag, running her hands up his naked chest to circle his neck.
Using the kiss to control her, Leroy slowly turned her around and backed her against the hotel bed. She toppled willingly onto the soft surface. His cocky smile started as he tossed his shirt on top of the tuxedo jacket and cummerbund.
She panted trying to regain control, but felt more and more slip away. Each squeeze of the corset driving her cravings higher. The inside fabric roughened her nipples. The constriction activating the subliminal fight or flight programming. This man was bad for her. So dangerous. She didn’t know where he had been or what he did for a living.
As he lowered his trousers, he revealed the one thing she did know beyond a shadow of a doubt. Leroy wanted her, and only her. He kept returning to her for the same reason she kept taking him back – they were addicted to each other. His cock stood strong within a nest of black. He kicked the pants under the bed.
He continued to rule her as he unhooked her garters to remove her lace underthings. Laying his broad hand over her trimmed red curls, Leroy asked, “Anyone else?”
“No Leroy, never.” However much she wished or wanted to walk away, any other man paled in comparison. He filled her thoughts when he was in her life and when he wasn’t.
Polly tried to regulate her breathing. Then he sunk into her. She had been wet and ready as soon as she had seen him in the room. He always did that to her. He pumped into her quickly, rushing them over the edge. Later tonight he would go slow, but initially he always claimed her body within moments of them meeting.
Tomorrow or the tomorrow after that or another tomorrow, when he left again, she will rue her lack of willpower. Today, she would ride the storm.
(words 964 – originally appearing at Breathless Press 5/22/2013 for the 9/9/12 Sunday Fun; republished new blog format 10/14/2013)