Vanilla On Top(15)

Holy shit. I received a write-up on Parkerson last week. Nikko mentioned it would be good to own an advertising firm to cut outgoing costs. I put out feelers for candidates and her company came up. We start organizing a bid for them very soon.

“You okay, Tony?”

“Excuse me.” I clear my throat. “Wine went down the wrong pipe.”

Heather moves to gather the small plates we’ve eaten from and I quickly jump up. “Please, let me.” No way can I say anything about a possible buyout. It might not happen. And what are the chances she’d be included in the negotiations?

I take the empty platters and dishes to the immaculate kitchen, pictures on the fridge catching my eye as I pass. One of a younger Heather with an older couple, and one with her and the blonde I spoke to at Manhattan Wine the other night. “Were you at speed dating with a friend, too?”

Heather comes in behind me and sees the picture I’m looking at. “Yes, that’s Carla.”

I nod, unwilling to share that she’s one of the woman who wrote my name on her sheet for a follow up date. I have no intention of calling any of them, and saying something now would be awkward, not to mention stupid.

Heather tilts her head, realizes I’m not going to say anything more, and opens the fridge. She pulls out a small dish of chocolate-covered strawberries, a joyous look of expectancy on her face. “Ready for a little dessert?” One slim hip slams the door shut and she saucily saunters back to the living room, the unspoken command for me to follow hanging in the air.

My mouth runs dry. What is it about her that makes me so freakin’ horny? I’ve been with models and debutantes, actresses and singers, but none of them made me feel as alive and aware as she does. It’s something about how she carries herself, unafraid and confident.

When I return to the living room, Heather has settled back on the pillows, placed the dish on a sofa cushion, and now slips off her heels. There’s a look of challenge on her face as she watches me toe off my shoes and ease down to my previous spot.

“Would you rub my feet?” Her voice carries a hint of overdone-sweetness. “Those heels were killer.”

I nod and scoot closer, motioning for her to place a foot on my thigh. My hands grasp her foot gently, one scooping her heel while the other digs a thumb into the arch. Her wide legged silk pants slip down her shapely calf, showing more skin than I’ve seen all evening.

A low moan of pleasure comes from her, triggering a response in the blood flow to my crotch. “God, that feels good. Really puts me in the mood to…relax.” An open expression of heat and lust crosses her face, the exact opposite of her words.

I skim my fingers over her sensitive skin, noting no reaction. “Not ticklish?”

A twinkle lights in her eye as she wiggles her tiny red-tipped toes. “Nope. Never have been.”

I’d take it as a challenge to make her giggle if I wasn’t so intent on getting her naked. Not seeing a lot of flesh has made me picture the lines of her body through her clothing, anticipating the moment when I may get to see more. There’s no doubt in my mind Heather is in charge, and if I make a move to seduce her, this whole evening will end in the blink of an eye.

Concentrating on her sore feet, I apply more pressure and use the heel of my hand. Each push against her flesh draws an answering pulse in my growing cock. I’ve never experienced this kind of arousal while rubbing a woman’s foot, and damn—it’s hot.

As I watch, her breathing quickens and her movements change. It’s as if parts of where I’m rubbing correspond with sexual reactions within her body. I think I’ve flustered her. She sits up and quickly unbuttons her blouse, slipping it off to toss on the couch.

Or, maybe she’s warm.

The thin chemise she’s wearing leaves nothing to the imagination, cupping her braless breasts and outlining her erect nipples. They look good enough to suck and I rip my gaze away, fearful if I’m too obvious I’ll ruin wherever this night might take me.

I’d love nothing more than to slip my hands up and…

“You’re good with your hands,” she says softly, leaning forward to snag a strawberry from the dish.

I jerk slightly, caught off guard as I pictured palming her sweet little tits. “Thanks.” I focus back on my task, working my knuckles on the hard spots of her tiny feet. My cock continues its rise, wedged in an uncomfortable position.

Each pass of my warm hands on her flesh makes me think about stroking her pussy the other night. Damn, I want to make this woman let go like that again. It was freeing, experiencing the open enjoyment in her features and the rapture of her release.