Double Dare Read online

  "I do," she whispered. "But why?"

  He smiled. "A beautiful thing deserves to be surrounded by more beauty." He stroked her face.

  "I am surrounded by beauty." She looked into his eyes, feasting on him. She moved to kiss him and, as she did, his fingers slipped the necklace around her neck.

  He turned her back to the mirror to examine the result. Abby let her fingers touch the necklace lightly. It was an exquisite thing and seemed to be the perfect partner for her dress.

  "You have such good taste," she murmured as she looked at the chain in the mirror.

  "I know." He stared at her meaningfully then chuckled low. "Come on. Let's go eat." He pulled her up from her seat, redirecting the mood of the moment.

  Abby laughed as she fell into his arms.

  He kissed her. "We'd better go now, or we might never get out of here." His tone was so darkly suggestive and her body trembled with resurgent arousal.

  The restaurant he took her to was small, no more than a dozen tiny wooden tables squeezed into a space not much bigger than her office. Ancient candelabras hung precariously out from the walls. The light they gave off was increased by their reflection in the gilt-framed mirrors. A diminutive waiter ushered them in, waving his arm in front of himself, as if clearing a grand passage through the tiny place for them.

  As they walked behind him Abby spied the noisy antics of the kitchens through a curtained entrance at the back. When they were seated the waiter carried over a blackboard that was easily the same height as himself, propped it on a chair in front of them and left them to study the enticing meals that were listed there.

  Abby chuckled quietly when he left. "It's like a time warp."

  Zac leaned in conspiratorially. "Yes...I thought you would enjoy it. What year do you think we are in?"

  "1896?" she offered.

  He nodded. "And you are Sarah Bernhardt, sitting there adorned by your Lalique jewels and your velvet dress."

  Abby threw her head back and laughed, she felt gloriously happy. "And you? Who are you?" She leaned over as if to examine him closely. "You must be a Greek Prince who has come to entice me away from my true path."

  He looked serious, drew her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. He said something in Greek. She wanted to know what he had said, but didn't want to ask. She felt as if they were circling each other again, as if he were holding something back. It made her want to offer herself, to beg him to use her.

  He looked up from her hand but did not let it go. "What shall we eat?" he said, and gestured to the blackboard, but he was still looking at her.

  Eventually she turned and looked at the board. She chose lobster, and he ordered a platter of gifts from the sea. The waiter brought a small carafe of wine that was constantly replenished. Abby felt mellow, content. It was as if the candlelight warmed through her body.

  The lobster was delicious and was served with honey dipped prawns and a crazy salad that leapt from the plate in a tangle of colors. Zac constantly tempted her with offerings from his own plate. She watched him eat. His mouth was so strong, so firm, and decisive. When his teeth reached for a plump mussel she focused on them to the exclusion of all else around her. He grinned when he caught her watching then offered her an oyster. She shook her head but stared down at the thing as he squeezed lemon juice over it.

  "This one reminds me of you," he whispered and took it to his mouth. His tongue came out and teased it from its resting place before devouring it.

  "How am I ever to finish my food? Do you want me to starve?"

  He shook his head and gave her an innocent look.

  "Well, please stop it." He shrugged and returned to his plate. "There is a legend that says a young Athenian boy discovered that Oysters were good to eat," he said. He didn't look at her as he spoke, but concentrated on his food.

  Abby listened and ate.

  "As he walked on the beach one morning he spied an oyster yawning and leaned over to touch it, to investigate." Zac was plucking a morsel from its shell as he spoke and she saw him standing on the beach in the early morning sun, his naked body dappled with pools of light. "The thing snapped shut at the intrusion and bit his finger." He reached for his wine glass. "As he sucked the pain away he discovered the flavor of the oyster, and broke the thing open, to swallow the unfortunate creature." He glanced at her. "So the story goes."

  Abby picked up one of her honey-dipped prawns with her fingers and took it to his mouth. He took her offering then teased her fingers with his teeth and she smiled. She felt the slide of his leg under the table. It moved along the velvet of her dress and her own leg moved in response, caressing his in return. She sat back, stretched her leg against his and sipped her wine.

  For dessert they selected a delicate looking tart with thinly sliced apples arranged in neat lines over its surface. Zac insisted she accompany it with brandy. She turned the glass in her hand and let her eyes slide from the movement of the rich, dark liquid to the rich inviting look in his eyes.

  "I've never met anyone like you before," he said.

  It was intimate. She was moved to respond intimately. "I've never met anyone like you either. She felt as if their spirits rose up to meet one another. The moment was intense. The chink of the coffee cups arriving on the table drew them away from each other.

  Zac watched her as they drank the coffee. "When do you have to leave?" he asked and she looked up, startled at his question.

  "My flight's late on Sunday morning. I have to be ready for work on Monday morning."

  He nodded and looked down at his coffee cup, avoiding her eyes. She hadn't wanted to break the spell by thinking beyond this moment, but he seemed to want to know how long they had.

  "And you, are you going back to London soon?" She was wondering when she would see him again.

  "Yes, Sunday, but later in the day, there are a few things I want to finalize before I leave." He smiled. "Are you ready to see the club, Pharamonds?"

  "Yes, I'd love to."

  He straightened in his seat, eyes twinkling. "In the course of my research I had to look at other venues in the area, see who we could work with, who might be the competition."

  She nodded, eager to her all about it.

  "I found an interesting venue that holds exclusive party events, and I procured us an invitation from the owner." He watched her as he spoke. "For tomorrow night."

  Her curiosity stirred, his eyes held so much mystery.

  "Exclusive party events?"

  "Fetish events, anything-goes type events."

  "How marvelous."

  He gave a pleasured smile. "There's a strict dress code, so we'll go shopping tomorrow."

  "You've really thought it all through."

  "Oh yes, I thought it would give us both a chance to explore your secret desires a little bit more."

  "To be watched?"

  He nodded.

  Her heart was beating fast, anticipation and the prospect of adventure and discovery tempering its pacing. "As long as I'm with you, I'm all for it."

  "I'll be right there, you can bet on it."

  "I can hardly wait."

  He pushed his coffee cup to one side. "Come, let's go to Pharamonds, I'm eager to see what you think of it."

  The entrance to the club was marked by its dramatic art-nouveaux arched doorway nestled between shop fronts and cafes. A shaft of light from a lantern revealed the stone steps that led down into the place. Abby was eager to take it all in.

  It was smaller than The Hub, more intimate. The main space had a bar with a small stage, and a tiny dance floor. The walls were rough-hewn stones that jutted out and seemed to guard the place like an ancient regiment. The bar was long and simple, the wooden tables dotted with candles oozing down old wine bottles. Piped jazz music fed the place with a relaxed atmosphere. The place was almost full but there were a couple of tables still free. Zac led her to one of them.

  "It used to be a popular venue but the present owner couldn't be bothered with the music
side of it, let it slide. It's really only been used as a bar for the past few years, but there's a lot of talent looking for somewhere to try out the scene. I did some investigation. There's a feeling of heritage about the place for the locale. They want Pharamonds to be a live venue again."

  "Yes, I can see that the atmosphere is here. You can almost feel Piaf in the walls." She put her hand against the cool stone.

  He nodded, then caught the waiter's eye and ordered their drinks.

  "There are two unused rooms," he continued. "I think I could have them knocked into one, to function as a gallery, I have this ambition to show more art where live performances are going on, to put it into that context."

  "How did you come to get into this line?"

  "Oh I don't know, interest in music, teenage yen to be a musician, next best thing." He moved the candle that stood between them to one side. "Do you like the place?"

  "Yes. It's a good sister club to The Hub. An older but more petite and mysterious sister."

  "It's funny you think of it as female. So do I."

  "That's because it makes you want to come inside," she answered provocatively.

  He laughed, flashing his teeth at her in genuine amusement. She felt a warm glow of pleasure because she had made him laugh.

  "Do you think it needs many changes?"

  She looked around the place again. "I see it bathed in blue light, it would compliment the rough stone walls."

  He nodded and encouraged her to go on.

  "Whenever I think of Paris it is suffused with blue light, every scene. It's partly because that's the way it's most often depicted...ads and everything. It's always blue light, it's almost a tradition. L'heure bleu."

  "And?" he said, astutely sensing there was more.

  "Well it's about twilight. It whispers of the long pleasures of the night to come. It has an intimacy."

  "You are a very visual person Abby."

  She nodded, he was right. "I see everything in images, I think. I remember everything as a series of stills." Some of them were projecting in her mind as she looked at the light casting shadows down one side of his face. She was seeing him that first time in his apartment. Remembering how he had looked as he brought her again and again to climax. "The images come back to haunt me..."

  Her fingers were against the strap of velvet on her shoulder. As they fiddled there the material lifted and she felt the velvet tug against her nipples. They were painfully hard. She reached for her glass with both hands and looked down at the table. "But the atmosphere ... it would be good to retain that?" she added, distracting herself.

  "We could do that," he replied.

  She noticed the "we" and looked at him. They stared at one another silently for a moment.

  "I suppose you'll have to be here a lot?"

  "At first, yes."

  "Can I get a job behind the bar? I'm thinking of change in career." She was only half joking.

  He shook his head. "I'd become an alcoholic."

  They were still feeling each other out and she wanted to know where she stood with him, but didn't feel able to ask outright. It was as if he was holding something back. Something crucial. Would it always be like this, would she never really know this enigmatic mystery man who had her so fully entranced?

  He seemed to sense her unsettled feelings. He caught her hand and pulled on it teasingly. "We haven't seen much of Paris."

  "You don't have to though, there's just something about being here."

  He nodded in agreement. "Next time?"

  "I make no promises." She paused and saw the look of concern on his face. "I may not emerge from the bedroom for long next time either."

  He reached over and laced his fingers into the straps of her dress. "You are such a tease."

  "I'm not teasing." She locked her hand around his upper arm. She was desperate to get closer, to give and take. "Zac I want you."

  Urgency raced between them.

  They left the club and headed for the Metro station, where the rush of warm air down the tunnel made her feel dizzy with desire, she looked at him and laughed softly as her body wavered in its wake.

  Zac watched her with hungry, possessive eyes, his mouth braced in a tense smile.

  They stood in the train and a skinny black youth played guitar further down the carriage. He began to sing a Bob Marley song, and Abby listened as he sang in a beautiful voice, but with missing and distorted words. He'd obviously memorized it but didn't speak English. She smiled up at Zac and leaned into him, putting her back against his chest. He bent down to kiss her ear.

  His cock was hard against her, she pressed close to it. She moved against him to the slow rhythm of the mutant Marley song, and he growled in her ear. The barely retrained thrust of his body against hers led a tremor from her thighs to her throat. Her shoulders dropped back as her buttocks rose up inside his hips. She became suffused with a craving for his thrusts, everywhere and turned to look at him, to show him her desire.

  "I want you to fuck me hard, Zac. I want you to use me, bite me. I want you to come all over me, mark me with your touch." Her fingers rose to his mouth.

  Her statement hung in the air between them. Then he closed his hands over her arms and pulled her back against him. The singer moved down the train, collecting euros from the occupants. When he got close Zac folded two notes into his hand. He grinned at the pair of them and gave them a little swaggering bow as he moved off.

  When they got off the train, Zac took her hand and she had to speed to keep up with him. His mouth was lined in a contained smile, his eyes dark with passion. He grabbed the keys at reception and headed for the elevator. As it glided up they stared silently at one another across the space. There was a possessive look in his gaze as it passed over her. It made her feel weak. It was that simmering passion that she always saw in him, but it was hot and hard and close to the surface, ready to blow.

  His fingers closed over her wrist. Her sex clenched. She reached for his mouth and they shared a kiss that evolved from intimacy to passion. When they broke the kiss, the elevator had stopped and the doors were open.

  Inside the room, he stood in the darkness and the light from the corridor was swept away from her body as he shut the door behind them. The only illumination was a small corridor of light from the window which fell over the bed. She stood close to him and listened to the sound of her own breathing. She felt the air clinging to her lungs.

  He moved towards her and she felt his hands slide around her neck and up the back of her head. His tongue plied her lips open and pushed in to line her mouth with its probing touch. He kept her head still with his hands while he tasted her deep and she melted at the exploration. She felt trapped, caught like a wisp that had been floating in his aura. Now he was drawing her in. Her body began to tremble.

  Her skin was a whirlpool of sensation beneath his hands, his fingers the dragnet that would capture the sensations and draw them back to his focus. She felt his skin beneath her fingers as they slid down the line of his throat and inside his shirt. Her body felt the kiss of shifting material as he dragged the close fitting velvet up over her body, to lift it over her head. The dress dropped to the floor near her feet. He traced patterns of movement over her naked back and she felt a fever of longing dart out from his fingertips along her spine. He stroked her nipples, tweaked them both.

  Needles of harsh stimulation raced through her.

  "How hard do you want it?"

  "Hard Zac, hard. Use me."

  His mouth descended to her throat. She felt the pluck as her skin was drawn into his mouth. He crept between her breasts and her hands held his head as he sucked deeply in her cleavage, his teeth grazing her. He turned his head and passed beneath her left breast and she felt the bite of his teeth on the skin that covered her caged heart. She responded with a sweet cry of supplication and stroked his head.

  He moved her to the bed, pushing her down on to it. He ducked down between her legs and she felt his mouth press deep into th
e inside of her thigh and brand her heavily where her thigh curved into her groin. She moaned and gave herself up to him. She felt his belt slide over her skin as he undid his jeans and she began to lift her legs around his denimed hips.

  She heard the rip of the condom and saw him moving, her eyes growing accustomed the gloom. He moved over her, his erection rigid against her sensitive pussy. It was so hard and hot that her body snaked with carnal lust for it. She contracted inside.

  "Take me, take me," she whispered. She wanted to be consumed by the brooding force that surrounded her. She wanted to offer herself as a sacrifice on the altar of sexuality.

  He thrust into her, moving her across the surface of the bed with the power of his lunge.

  She lifted her legs around him, moving his erection deeper inside her between each of his thrusts, until her legs hung over his shoulders and he seemed to thrust right through her whole body each time. His hands seemed to be all over her, claiming her.

  Each thrust she rode with ecstasy, awaiting the next to lift her with its power. He bent over her and she folded beneath him as she felt his breath come closer, louder. His hips began to move slow and deep. She felt the swell of his cock throb against the neck of her womb then the touch of his hand between her buttocks, circling her anus.

  "Ready for more?"

  "Everything," she gasped, "Use me Zac, I'm yours."

  He pulled out, stroking her juices down and into the pucker of her anus. One finger eased inside her, readying her.

  Her anus twitched, opened then clenched on the digit. It felt so large, how would she manage his massive cock there?

  He circled his finger, sending wild skittering sensation through her innards. Her clit was jerking, her sex clenching itself, her body turned on to dangerous levels.

  "I want every ounce of you, Abby."

  She knew he was asking permission, but could barely respond because her entire lower body was shuddering with sensation and words wouldn't form. Her hands clutched at the sheets of the bed. "Please," she whispered.

  She felt his cock beneath her buttocks as he lifted her with his free hands. Slowly removing his finger, he eased his cock inside her, probing into her anus, his hands firm and strong on her buttocks as he lifted her entire lower body from the bed to access her back passage, pulling her buttocks apart to relax and enter her. Blistering sensation roared through her pelvis and spine as he pushed his cock deeper, inch by glorious inch, hard and determined.