A portly, dark-haired woman who resembled a gypsy was stationed at a table outside it. “Let me tell you your fortune, my dear,” she called out to me.
Usually, I never did these kinds of things, thinking they were shams, but tonight my unease tempted me, and I really didn’t want to wait in line.
I lowered myself into the worn velvet chair facing her.
“You are very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said as she studied my face.
“Your eyes, one brown, one blue, tell me a lot about you. You are two very different people who share the same face. A woman of contradictions. One side of you is light and seductive, the other dark and secretive.”
I inwardly gasped. How did she know?
“Let me see your palm.” She grasped my right hand and flipped it so that my palm was in full view.
Her eyes grew wide.
“What is it?” My voice was shaky
“You are losing control of your life. There is a man.”
Christ! Jaime Zander was written all over my hand.
She shook her head and bit down her lip. Her gaze slowly met mine. “I usually tell people good things they want to hear, but I must tell you the truth.”
My heart hammered.
“You are in grave danger. Someone is out to get you.”
I shuddered. Boris Borofosky! I’d heard enough. I jumped up from the chair and hurried to the restroom. Thankfully, it was now free.
With my dress raised to my thighs and my panties and garter lowered to my knees, I sat on the toilet longer than I needed. I was shaking. Was Boris on my trail? Was he seeking revenge? Was my life in danger? Wait! That wasn’t possible. I knew from Madame Paulette that he didn’t even know my name. So, he couldn’t possibly know where I lived or what I did. Or where I was this very minute. I took a deep calming breath. Besides, that woman was probably a charlatan though she did seem to know the effect Jaime Zander was having on me. Yes, he was making me lose control, but by hell or high water, I was going to put an end to that tonight. Yet, at the very thought of him, the pulsing between my thighs intensified, and I could feel myself heating. I dragged my hand over my cleft. The folds were even hotter and wetter than I imagined. My fingertips could actually feel the throbbing. For a minute, I thought about masturbating, to put myself out of my glorious misery. Instead, I peed and washed up. My hormones were back to raging. Damn that man!#p#分页标题#e#
Jaime’s eyes contemplated me as I headed back to the table.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he rose to his feet and pulled out my chair.
“Yes.” In truth, I was all hot and bothered.
“Good.” Returning to his seat, he refilled our wine glasses. There was a roguish glint in his eyes.
“So let’s pick up where we left off.” He scooped up a forkful of the steak tartare. “Now, part your lips, Gloria.”
Again, the sexy command. This time I did as he asked. My lips spread apart.
“I love fine raw meat,” he purred as he shoveled a taste of the rare delicacy into my mouth. The velvety, moist meat laced with a hint of Worcestershire sauce was beyond delicious. It totally obliterated any trace of Boris in my head. I immediately wanted more. The gorgeous mind reader fed me another heaping forkful. I swallowed. Tingles rose from my core.
He helped himself to a taste. He savored it before swallowing. “Did you know that steak tartare is an aphrodisiac?”
“I read that somewhere.” Being in the sexy lingerie business, I was actually quite knowledgeable about what turned women on. And right now, I was fucking turned on. I wanted this gorgeous man to ravage me.
I jolted. Under the table, I felt something slide under my dress and snake up my thigh-high silk stocking past my garters to my middle. Holy Fuck! It was his bare foot, and it was running circles over my mound.
“Ah, Gloria, your pussy feels so hot and wet beneath those lace panties of yours.” He paused. “They are powder blue, right?” he asked with a roguish grin.
“Yes,” I gasped. His foot was now rubbing hard against my clit. I was getting more feverish by the second as he pushed me toward the edge. My fingers clutched the corners of the white-linen covered table.
“I think you should stop,” I said between clenched teeth.
“There’s a difference between I think and I want. Do you want me to stop?”
“Yes,” I said breathily.
“Your mouth says ‘yes,’ but your pussy screams ‘no.’”
Oh, God! This man got me. He continued massaging, adding vertical strokes up and down my soaking wet cleft. The pleasure and pressure were so intense I thought I would yelp. I dug my fingernails into the table and chewed my lip, trying hard not to scream. Jesus, how would I look if I broke loose?