myself that it was just about the sex, about her sweet, tight pussy and glorious tits. And yes, that was part of it, but there was something about Beth, about our night together, that meant I wanted to know more. I had an urge to find, protect and possess her. Perhaps it was because she’d disappeared into nowhere, denying me the opportunity to know more about her. I wasn’t the one in control. She’d taken that from me. I didn’t even know what she did for a living or what city she lived in.
All I knew was that she liked cake and had a body that would make any man weep. And that she was incapable of being anything but honest and open—qualities I’d valued in myself but in her they translated into something seductive and bewitching.
Why hadn’t I used some of our hours together to glean the most basic of information from her?
I slammed my laptop closed. I needed to find someone else. My week in London had been non-stop meetings, business dinners and even a charity gala. A lack of sex was probably making my Beth Harrison obsession worse than it would have been if I hadn’t had blue balls. Getting off in the shower just wasn’t the same as sliding your hands up a woman’s body, making her whimper before fucking her until she begged you for release. Masturbation might have given me release, but it didn’t go deep enough to quench the thirst Beth had created. Worse, I wasn’t sure another woman would help, but at least I could try.
I glanced around. The lounge was full of suits. I pulled out my cell. I’d line Mandy up—my regular, sure sex for a few years now—for when I landed. Low maintenance, she turned up at my apartment, we fucked and she left. We might swap a couple of pleasantries about the markets or the weather, but we both knew the score—it was all about the fucking for both of us. Every now and then I was tempted to ask whether or not she had a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a husband, and then I thought better of it, ripped off her panties and got on with it.
I stalked over to the self-service bar and poured myself a soda water as a shadow in the far corner captured my attention. It couldn’t be. It would be too much of a coincidence. I’d be claiming to see water in the middle of the desert soon. I turned my head toward what had caught my eye.
I squinted. It really looked like her. I wandered closer, scanning the low tables, pretending to look for a newspaper.
It was her.
I wasn’t imagining it. She looked as beautiful as I remembered.
Dressed in a tight red skirt and a black sheer blouse, she looked every inch the fifties movie star. The disappearing woman, Beth Harrison.
I was part thrilled, part infuriated and entirely consumed with a desire to have her naked beneath me.
I watched her concentrate on her notebook, oblivious to everything going on around her. At least nothing had happened to her. Irritation prickled at the back of my neck as I wondered if she’d deliberately missed the flight to avoid me. Jesus, she should have been grateful that I’d fucked her, and begged me to do it again, not given me the brush-off.
Unable to take my eyes off her, I moved toward her table. I’d forgotten how full that dirty red mouth was. I’d not seen it around my dick, not yet. My cock jumped at the thought and I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“So you are alive.”
She snapped her head up, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide. I bet she’d thought she’d never see me again. Well, I was determined to show her what she’d have missed.
At least she had the decency to blush. “D—”
“Stand up.” My voice was tight and low as I tried to keep a grip over myself. I didn’t want to draw any attention to us.
She frowned and dropped her notebook into her bag.
“Come with me,” I said, my heartbeat thundering through my shirt.
I grabbed her elbow as she stood. I wasn’t as familiar with this lounge as the one in Chicago, but I knew where the showers were. I pulled her in that
All I knew was that she liked cake and had a body that would make any man weep. And that she was incapable of being anything but honest and open—qualities I’d valued in myself but in her they translated into something seductive and bewitching.
Why hadn’t I used some of our hours together to glean the most basic of information from her?
I slammed my laptop closed. I needed to find someone else. My week in London had been non-stop meetings, business dinners and even a charity gala. A lack of sex was probably making my Beth Harrison obsession worse than it would have been if I hadn’t had blue balls. Getting off in the shower just wasn’t the same as sliding your hands up a woman’s body, making her whimper before fucking her until she begged you for release. Masturbation might have given me release, but it didn’t go deep enough to quench the thirst Beth had created. Worse, I wasn’t sure another woman would help, but at least I could try.
I glanced around. The lounge was full of suits. I pulled out my cell. I’d line Mandy up—my regular, sure sex for a few years now—for when I landed. Low maintenance, she turned up at my apartment, we fucked and she left. We might swap a couple of pleasantries about the markets or the weather, but we both knew the score—it was all about the fucking for both of us. Every now and then I was tempted to ask whether or not she had a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a husband, and then I thought better of it, ripped off her panties and got on with it.
I stalked over to the self-service bar and poured myself a soda water as a shadow in the far corner captured my attention. It couldn’t be. It would be too much of a coincidence. I’d be claiming to see water in the middle of the desert soon. I turned my head toward what had caught my eye.
I squinted. It really looked like her. I wandered closer, scanning the low tables, pretending to look for a newspaper.
It was her.
I wasn’t imagining it. She looked as beautiful as I remembered.
Dressed in a tight red skirt and a black sheer blouse, she looked every inch the fifties movie star. The disappearing woman, Beth Harrison.
I was part thrilled, part infuriated and entirely consumed with a desire to have her naked beneath me.
I watched her concentrate on her notebook, oblivious to everything going on around her. At least nothing had happened to her. Irritation prickled at the back of my neck as I wondered if she’d deliberately missed the flight to avoid me. Jesus, she should have been grateful that I’d fucked her, and begged me to do it again, not given me the brush-off.
Unable to take my eyes off her, I moved toward her table. I’d forgotten how full that dirty red mouth was. I’d not seen it around my dick, not yet. My cock jumped at the thought and I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“So you are alive.”
She snapped her head up, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide. I bet she’d thought she’d never see me again. Well, I was determined to show her what she’d have missed.
At least she had the decency to blush. “D—”
“Stand up.” My voice was tight and low as I tried to keep a grip over myself. I didn’t want to draw any attention to us.
She frowned and dropped her notebook into her bag.
“Come with me,” I said, my heartbeat thundering through my shirt.
I grabbed her elbow as she stood. I wasn’t as familiar with this lounge as the one in Chicago, but I knew where the showers were. I pulled her in that
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