His Sugar Baby(29)
She gave a perceptible start. Winter turned her head, the dark expanses of her sunglasses reflecting the waning light. “I’m sorry. Did you say something, Michael?”
He tightened his jaw. That does it, he thought grimly. He was not going to sit here and let her waste their remaining time together. He should send her home now. Her mind was obviously too preoccupied for her to fully appreciate the effort he had made to be conciliating. He had intended a leisurely, relaxing time of sun and swimming and sex. He had never liked just climbing on top of a warm body to get his rocks off. He liked his partner to be fully engaged. It was far more satisfying for both of them.
If he was going to salvage his plans, he needed to reengage her attention. A novel idea flashed through his mind. He said slowly, “I want you to do something for me, Winter.” The fantasy he was structuring in his imagination was already stirring his body, wiping away his irritation.
Winter shrugged as she smiled over at him. “Okay.”
“I want you to go upstairs to the bedroom. I want you to take the chair from beside the bed and place it in the middle of the room with its back to the door. Then I want you to find something to blindfold yourself with, sit down in the chair, and wait for me.” He waited, curious to see her reaction to his suggestion. She was sitting immobile, seemingly frozen, her face still turned in his direction. He could not see her eyes through the dark lens of the sunglasses, but he could see the quickened pulse beating strongly in her throat. She was definitely refocused on him.
After a moment, she asked quietly, “What are you going to do?”
Michael narrowed his eyes. He smiled, deliberately using his business-bastard smile. “You have ten minutes, Winter.”
Without saying another word, she got up and walked inside. He looked down. She had left her canvas bag beside the chaise lounge, so he felt fairly confident that she hadn’t got up just to leave.
Michael glanced at his wrist watch to mark the time and settled more comfortably in the chaise lounge. She wasn’t thinking about her problems with the ex now, he thought with satisfaction. He tasted his drink, rolling the liquor over his tongue, and put his head back. He slowly finished the drink, a couple of times checking his watch.
When the ten minutes were up, Michael discarded his wet swim trunks. His thickened penis hung heavy between his thighs. He stooped to snag up the large bottle of suntan lotion lying beside Winter’s deserted chaise. She had used it generously on her pale-skinned body. He strolled into the house, his anticipation ratcheting up, along with his shaft.
When he stepped across the bedroom threshold, he abruptly stopped. He sucked in his breath, amazed. Winter had done exactly what he had told her. She was sitting in the chair, her narrow back partially to him, and she had found his silk winter scarf to tie over her eyes. She sat stiffly upright, her slender hands resting on her knees, her long bare legs pressed together. Her head was tilted on one side as though she was listening. Michael looked at the way her plump full breasts jutted out, how they quivered with every one of her quickened breaths. Her beauty made him ache. At the appealing picture she made, Michael felt his semierection lengthen and rise toward his belly.
It had never occurred to him before to play games with Winter. Maybe that was part of the allure, he acknowledged to himself honestly. He was aware that she always withheld part of herself from their relationship. There was always something at her core that he could not touch. He had liked that about her from the first, that distance she maintained despite the intimate nature of their relationship. He had initially congratulated himself, believing that she would not easily succumb to the temptation of developing any emotional ties. He preferred lack of drama in his relationships. When it became time, it would make for an easy ending.
However, Winter’s ability to distance herself had become a doubled-edged sword. He was more attracted to her than was good for him. It was beginning to bother him, in just a small way, that he wasn’t able to completely understand her. If she had displayed more of her feelings to him, he would have been more confident of holding her. He would know what made her tick, what made her the woman that she was. He told himself that he shouldn’t complain. She didn’t bring drama or baggage to their times together. At least, not until today, he amended. But he rather thought that he could make her forget for awhile longer this evening. Maybe a game would give him the edge that he felt he needed.
Lust was already a raging fire in him. His engorged cock visibly pulsed. He wanted to take her right then, but he forced control over himself. This fantasy was nowhere near being finished. And he hadn’t decided yet on the denouement.
Michael walked forward, his bare feet sinking silently into the thick pile carpet.
While she waited for Michael, Winter couldn’t stop her thoughts returning to the phone call she had made. As soon as Michael disappeared through the French doors, she had dug her own cell out of her bag. She had felt frozen inside, ever since the talk with Chloe’s doctor, but just being with Michael yesterday, and again this evening, had partially thawed her paralysis. She was able to think again. She had been in a fever of impatience to reach her ex-husband. She had a rough idea of his schedule, and since it was Friday after the workday, she knew she could probably catch him. The sweat had trickled down her bare back as she had pressed the numbers with trembling fingers while she kept telling herself that he would agree to help Chloe. When the call connected, and she heard his familiar voice, her belly had clenched with a sickening nervousness. The call hadn’t gone well.