I stood watching him walk away like a lovesick girl with my mouth open and my eyes dreamy. Ben patted me lightly on the arm and with an understanding smile, said, “Welcome to Paradiso, Miss Casey. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
CHAPTER TEN: Devin
Ben followed me to his office, leaning in as we walked, listening to my end of the conversation with Genevieve. I could hear him breathing he was so close. A couple of times I bumped him with my elbow to give me space, but he kept coming back, like a puppy expecting a treat for being a pain in the ass.
I cradled the phone to my ear as I went into his office and plucked a bottle of Perrier from the little fridge Ben kept in one corner. He closed his office door behind us and moved to sit behind the desk while I stood at the window looking out at the beautiful day, sipping the overpriced water, listening to Genevieve ramble on in my ear about my lack of passion for the current session. The older she got, the more she tended to mix her English and French when she was excited or angry. I didn’t understand everything she was saying, but I got the gist of it. When she finished scolding me like an ungrateful, petulant child, I assured her all was well in paradise and handed the phone to Ben.
“Seriously, Ben?” I said, flopping into the chair across the desk from him and giving him a dirty look. I shook the Perrier bottle at him, as if I was seriously thinking about hurling it in his direction. “You ratted me out to Genevieve?”
“I didn’t rat you out, old pal,” he said flatly, setting the phone aside and reaching for the laptop that was on the desk. “Genevieve knew something was up with you, said she could tell by your voice and general lack of disinterest the last time you spoke. She called me to find out what was going on with you and I simply told her the truth.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “The truth being?”
“The truth being that your heart isn’t in it anymore. And it hasn’t been for quite some time.”
“Bullshit,” I growled. “My heart’s in the same place it’s always been.”
“That may be, but your head’s certainly somewhere else,” he said, tapping a couple of keys and spinning the laptop screen in my direction. “Do you see this? This is our reservation schedule for the next six months.”
I shrugged at the screen with the bottle at my lips. “So.”
“So, do you see all these green squares?”
“Yes.” I sighed the word and slumped down in the chair.
He narrowed his eyes at me. I could tell by the little vein popping out on his right temple that he was annoyed at me. Sadly, I didn’t care.
He said, “Do you know what each of these green squares represents? Each green square is a reservation. It’s green because the guest has put down 50% to hold the reservation. Do you know how much money those green squares represent to our bottom line?”
I blinked at him. “A lot?”
“Almost six-hundred-thousand dollars,” Ben said, dragging the words out like a humorless Dr. Evil. “And that doesn’t include the money these guests will spend on all the extras while they’re here. That could add up to another three or four hundred-thousand or more. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“Do I understand basic math?” I asked, giving him a snarky look. “Yes, Ben, I know how to add and subtract and multiply and divide. Geometry confuses the shit out of me, but basic math, yeah, I got it.”
“Do you understand why these people are willing to pay nearly a million dollars to be here?”
I leaned my head back and rubbed my eyes. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”
“They come here because of you,” he said, gently closing the laptop and pushing it aside. “And if you’re not here, they may just decide it wasn’t worth the money and ask for refunds.”
“I’m here,” I said, spreading out my hands.
“Your body may be here, Dev, but your heart and mind are somewhere else. They have been for a while now. And it’s got me worried. It’s got Genevieve worried. We’ve never seen you like this before.” He planted his elbows on the desk and leaned over them. He lowered his voice and gave me a concerned look, which I knew was motivated out of friendship rather than economics. “What’s going with you, man? Why are you so fucking miserable?”
“I’m not miserable,” I said, doing a lousy job of putting on a happy face.
“Then what’s the problem? Are you bored? Are you burning out?”
I let my shoulders go up and down, then shifted gears. “Tell me about the woman we just met. Cassandra Casey?”
“I don’t know anything about her,” he said, falling back in the chair, a look of disappointment on his face that his attempt at psychotherapy had failed. “She is Lulu Roman’s law partner, obviously. From San Diego, I think… family or divorce law… other than that… you know as much as I do.” He leaned forward with a half-smile on his face. “Why are you asking about Cassandra Casey? And why are you smiling like that?”
“Am I smiling?” I tried to pull the corners of my mouth down. My cheeks fought against my brain for control.
“Yes, you are.” He grinned at me. “Is that the old Devin Walker I see shining through? A tad hot for a guest, are we? Is that your problem? You need to get your pipes cleaned?” He snorted and waved at the door again. “If that’s the problem get out there and fuck something, for Christ sake! Hell, fuck them all if you want! They’ll line up to suck the Yoni Master’s magic cock!”
“Fuck you,” I said, glancing at my watch. “The orientation dinner’s in two hours. I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll meet you there.”
“Don’t make me have to come looking for you,” Ben called out as I went through the door. I heard the Perrier bottle I’d left on his desk hit the trashcan with a thud.
I felt an old familiar twinge in my balls as I left Ben’s office and made my way to my private chalet, the highest one up the mountain side. My cock twitched a little in my loose slacks, though I wasn’t sure why.
Cassandra Casey.
How did I know her?
More to the point, how did my cock know her?
My brain often came up blank, but like an elephant, my cock rarely forgets.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Cassandra
It goes without saying that our suite was amazing. It was large and airy, and continued the Japanese décor with beautiful rugs and colorful artwork, an oversized king-sized bed, teakwood floors, bamboo walls, and a bathroom door that was a slider made of thick opaque rice paper. There was a small balcony that looked out over the front of the resort. In the orange dim of the California afternoon the view was nothing short of breathtaking.
After I took a shower and got ready for the dinner, Lulu took over the bathroom and steamed the place up. I finished my makeup, then stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. I leaned on the railing and took deep breaths of the clean mountain air that Lulu promised would cleanse my soul. I closed my eyes and the face of Devin McMasters quickly appeared.
“I know you from somewhere,” I said quietly, searching my mind but again, coming up blank. My brain had not yet connected the dots, but my pussy was hard at work, tingling with anticipation, moistening at the hope that Devin’s strong fingers might soon be caressing my body, driving out all those nasty negative feelings and making me cum like a nympho at a Viagra convention.
I slid my hand down the waistband of my khaki shorts and found my clit swollen and sensitive to the touch. I slid my finger between my pussy lips to oil it up, then began rubbing slow circles on my clit that got faster when I heard the shower turn off. I fell against the railing and came hard, squeezing my thighs together, trapping my fingers between my legs as my juices flowed over them, biting down hard on my lip so I wouldn’t moan.
By the time Lulu called out that it was time to go, I had washed my hands, changed my panties, and was raring to go.
* * *
The orientation dinner was held in the resort’s grand dining room, which was large enough to accommodate a dozen four-top tables and a podium at the end of the room. Waiters in angelic white saw to our very need. Dinner was delicious: a generous salad, mushroom risotto, the choice of filet mignon, salmon, or baked chicken; an assortment of veggies, tea or water to drink. Lulu informed me that Paradiso did not serve alcohol, which explained why she had a bottle of vodka and a fifth of scotch hidden in her luggage upstairs.
We sat at a table with two other women who were also virgins to Paradiso. A frumpy accountant from Des Moines named Lillian and a soccer mom from Palo Alto named Jan. They listened spellbound as Lulu explained her experience with getting her cooch rubbed by the Master. By the time dinner was over, there was not a dry seat at the table, including my own.
“Good evening, ladies,” a voice from the podium called. I looked up to see Ben Chin standing at the mic, dress all in white, of course, a welcoming smile on his round face. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner. My name is Ben Chin. I am the director here at Paradiso and I wanted to take just a moment to welcome you to paradise!” I huffed a smile. He reminded me of an Asian version of Mr. Rourke form the old Fantasy Island TV show.