Heat built inside Jessie as the last person in front of them left the counter with a room key. She tried to imagine what Devon was shooting with his camera. His matter-of-fact responses, combined with his touches, made her create her own sensual answers. Moisture seeped in to her panties; she took a deep breath and dug deeper. “Good evening,” the woman behind the counter wore glasses that fit nicely with her blonde hair. Jessie slid her voucher on to the desk. The clerk punched in Jessie’s information and looked at both of them. “Are you together?”

“Why?” asked Devon.

“We only have one room left, and I was wondering if I needed to make arrangements at another site.”

Jessie smiled and winked at Devon who turned to her and nodded.

“Yes, we’re together.” He casually patted Jessie on the shoulder and ran his fingers to the base of her neck. She moved her ass to touch his thigh, buoyed by his sign of intimacy. She skipped her fingers to lightly touch his zipper; his cock pressing against his trousers signaled his heat. She pictured leaning her butt against his hips, but forced herself to concentrate on the activity at the counter.

The clerk punched in the final information and stuffed a key card into a small white envelope. “Room 182: down the hallway to the right. What time is your flight?”

“Nine A.M.,” Devon answered.

“Okay, the shuttle leaves every half hour.”

“Thank you.” He raised his voice and winked when Jessie lifted her bag. “Here, sweetheart, let me take that.” They sauntered across the carpeting and entered a courtyard that was covered with a glass dome. She spotted the pool but she could skip a swim if she and Devon were going to undress in the same room.

Andrew grabbed an opener and uncorked the wine. He poured a glass for him and Brianna. "Oh, it’s silly." He took a sip and shook his head.

"What’s silly?"

"This whole thing about my secret."

Brianna grabbed a piece of lettuce and chewed it. "No, really, you don’t have to say anything to me." She had no business intruding at this fragile stage of their friendship.

"The problem is, I’d really like to." He sipped his wine.

His eyes told her he was wrestling with the decision to speak or remain silent. She smiled. "In that case, why is it so hard to talk with me … other than the fact that you’re a man?"

"Because it’s not for everyone."

"So are you afraid it’s not for me?" She leaned against the opposite counter and folded her arms over her breasts.

He moved to her and ran a finger through her hair. He touched her face gently. "I’ve discovered I like you, Brianna. And I want you to like me."

She took a sip from her wine glass and offered assurance. She ran a finger from under his chin and down his chest. "Then take a chance. Are you afraid you’ll shock me? I’m from Hollywood." She lowered her mouth to his nipples, circling her tongue around them and sucking lightly.

He smiled.

Brianna touched his hair. His eyes were tender. "Do you think it was easy for me deciding what to do in the bathroom? I was nervous. But that didn’t stop me from acting on my desires." She lowered her head and kissed his finger.
 

Cole’s voice wrapped her in a sensual blanket, igniting her imagination. Maybe her own lust simmered just beneath the surface and no one had ever been available to tap into it. Inspiration struck her to explore the opening to his heart. Lap dance. I could give him a lap dance. Isn’t that what men liked? She could stand and scoot his legs apart, lift her sweatshirt up her torso and reveal her bare breasts, then lean to kiss him and slowly move so he could kiss her neck. And then she could rise until he was tenderly kissing her breasts.

Marcie wanted to hear a man growl at her from a sexual wildness building inside him. She wanted to someone to grab her, pull her hair, and tell her that her tits were lovely. And he would fondle them and lick her nipples in the night air. Being polite to the point of unsatisfying had no value. That wasn’t really her. She quickly folded her arms across her chest.

"You okay?" He relaxed his embrace and ran fingers through her hair.

He brought her back to the moment. "Yeah." How much could exist deep in a person’s psyche in a place where it became so private it’s not possible to share, and live a life isolated from the one who’s supposed to share intimate secrets. "I don’t want that to happen to me."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, just thinking." Could she articulate her fantasy?

He ran a finger gently under her chin and looked in her eyes. "Me, too."

Marcie closed her eyes and parted her lips, touching Cole on his lips and opening her mouth slightly, giving him freedom to sweep his tongue inside. His breath carried a sweet fragrance that tempted her to explore more of him with her hand up his chest and along his neck, holding him like she held on to the trees when climbing up from the swimming hole to keep from falling and getting hurt. Her grip became tighter. Her lips worked with his, following his up and down motion, her tongue sliding against his, wrapping around it and discovering the softness and moisture. She held her thighs together and then parted them, wanting to quench her desire by having him inside.

"Your lips are sweet." He ran a hand along the inside of her left leg.

"Thank you." A simple expression that showed appreciation burst into thoughts, a shooting star lighting up a universe otherwise void of affection.