Meeting people is a part of my job. Being flirty and fun, giving them a glimpse of a fantasy, a tease of a dream, is what pays the bills. They know, as I do, that life isn’t really like that. But we both make pretend just long enough to imagine it’s real. That’s what I’m selling when I take off my clothes on the stage, when I flash a smile at the handsome gentleman in the business suit, at the lady with the bedroom eyes: an escape.
I just never expected to meet someone like Richard.
Someone who could make me, the great spinner of fantasies, believe in dreams come true.
I’d been living on the island my whole life, trapped in a way by my fear of the water. At the age of eight, I’d been swimming offshore with a friend, when suddenly she hadn’t been there any longer. I’d called her name but there had been no reply. With tears in my eyes, I’d splashed and spluttered back to the beach, shouting for help, and within minutes there was a search party. Kayleigh was found, alive, and that should have been the end of it. Except I never wanted to go back out there again. Just the sight of the azure ocean sent a shiver up my spine.
When I finished school, while my friends took jobs on the mainland I stayed behind, unable to face the idea of travelling across that water. Waitressing had paid a few bills, but then there had been the offer of better work, fewer hours, higher pay, and I’d jumped at it. I loved dancing, it made me feel alive.
All I had to do was also take my clothes off in front of a room full of strangers. Easy, right?
If I tell you I was nervous that first time, that would be the understatement of the year. Choosing my stage name was fun, pampering myself before the show was enjoyable, but when the MC announced me, Please give a warm welcome to our newest dancer, Star, I thought I was going to throw up.
Turns out, I was a natural. And I loved it.
Being admired like that was a buzz, and the pay… well, I’d never seen so much money for one evening’s work. Clubs like that have a reputation built on ignorance, but the Moonlight Room was anything but seedy. The clients were respectful, enjoying the show of course, but never taking it any further than that. They knew they weren’t allowed to touch, not without the dancer’s very clear permission, and they kept to their seats unless invited to tuck tips into a G-string or bra. The occasional bad apple was very swiftly dealt with by the bouncers, which was what happened with the guy who followed me home.
I’d seen him getting a little close to Vixen before I even went out there, and she muttered under her breath as she passed me on her way backstage. “Watch the asshole with the moustache or he’ll have his grubby fingers all over you.”
I followed her advice, staying away from him, but he still managed to catch me off guard, tugging at my thong and ripping it from me. Bastard. Some people might think that if it’s going to come off anyway, what’s the harm, but there’s a difference between stripping and being stripped and it felt invasive. Cue a swift intervention from the enormous man-mountain known as Rock, the very scary, very cuddly and very gay bouncer, and that should have been the end of it.
Except it wasn’t.
“Hey sweetheart, how about a private show?”
The alley behind my house was dark at that time of night, streetlights battling against the encroaching shadows, and my heart was in my throat in an instant. How he’d followed me from the club, I have no idea. All us girls used a back entrance that led out the same way as the nightclub next door.
“Stay back or I’ll call the police,” I said the words firmly. Not getting hysterical.
“No, you won’t.” He shook his head as he stepped out into a pool of light. “Hey, I paid to get in, all I want is a glimpse of that pussy. Well, a better glimpse than I got. Maybe a taste.”
“I’ll scream if you take another step.”
“Which is it? Screaming or calling the police?”
“How about both, asshole?”
His chuckle made me freeze in place. He was confident. Arrogant. I was afraid of what he might do, knowing full well that if I pulled out my phone to call the police, he could grab it from me. And if I screamed, well…
Maybe he liked it that way.
Please, somebody, save me, I thought.
And that’s when Richard arrived.
Where he came from, I still have no idea. The alley wasn’t a route to anywhere, and it wasn’t in a part of town that people liked to visit. But one second I was all on my own and the next he was slamming the asshole with the moustache bodily into the wall. Richard growled and my stomach clenched. He stepped closer to the scumbag, then turned my way and I nearly melted under that blue gaze.
“Are you all right?” His accent was English, a smooth baritone that made me shiver. “Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No. Thank you for helping.”
He turned to the man on the floor and lowered his voice. “Apologise to the lady.”
“Fuck you… She’s no lady.”
“Apologise. Now.” A little kick for encouragement.
“It’s all right. You can let him go.” I just wanted him out of the way.
Richard bent down and grabbed the man by the scruff of the collar, hauling him to his feet with one hand. Even in the half light I gawped at the display of strength. “Say you’re sorry, or I’ll make you.”
A moment of hesitation, then, “Sorry.”
“Good boy. Now get out of here while you still can.”
“Thank you,” I said again as the asshole ran back down the alley. “I don’t know what I would have done… Would you like to come in for coffee?”
Richard shook his head. “I’m afraid I have somewhere to be. Come to my place tomorrow. If you want to, that is. We’ll have breakfast.”
“All—all right. Where do you live?”
“The house up on the hill.”
“Gulls Reach?” He nodded and I hesitated. “You’re a Cavendish?”
He took a step forward. “Yes, but please don’t let that put you off. I’m not like my family.” A smile crossed his lips. “Richard Cavendish, the self-deprecating but unfathomably handsome youngest heir to the fortune,” he said, and I saw a flash of teeth. “And you are?”
I don’t know why I didn’t tell him my real name. I guess I was still a little shaken from what had happened. “Star,” I muttered and saw the smile expand until it filled his eyes.
“Star,” he repeated thoughtfully. “It suits you. Well, Star, I’m glad to have been of service. I don’t think he’ll bother you again. See you in the morning?”
I nodded, and with that, he was gone.
***
When I tell you I didn’t sleep a wink that night, it’s no exaggeration. Richard invaded every thought until I found myself rubbing between my legs, panting and mewling as I brought myself to orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. A cold shower did nothing. In the end, I danced around my house, drank coffee and sang to myself until dawn broke and I could head up to Gulls Reach without looking too desperate for his attention.
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The house hadn’t been lived in for years, not since I was a little girl. The Cavendishes had once owned the whole island, in my grandparents’ day, but they’d sold off everything except the manor house, and their visits had become less and less frequent until they stopped altogether. As I pressed the buzzer at the gate, I half expected his invitation to have been a joke. The house was dilapidated to the point where it looked like it might collapse, the lawn was overgrown with weeds, the trees had started to invade.
There was a crackle, and then Richard’s voice. “You haven’t just walked all the way up here?”
“I don’t have a car,” I said.
“Next time, I’ll send one.”
Next time.
Presumptuous? Definitely.
Exciting? Certainly.
When he buzzed me in and I pushed open the gate, it groaned on its hinges but didn’t resist my efforts. So, he had been here for some time then. Days? A week? Why not get the grounds sorted at least?
He greeted me on the steps to the house, dressed in white slacks and a linen shirt, open down the front, that showed a chest and stomach totally devoid of hair. Strong slabs of pectoral muscle, defined abs. Richard Cavendish was good looking and he knew it, but still, he carried himself with an air of confident disinterest, as only some people are able to pull off. I remembered his comment from the night before, self-deprecating but unfathomably handsome. Somehow he’d made the words a put down rather than a brag.
“Welcome to Gulls Reach. I’m afraid it’s not much to look at.” He wrapped an arm over my shoulder and I let him. “Shall I give you the tour?”
The house sprawled over its floorplan, apparently as relaxed as Mr Cavendish himself. A morning room here, a kitchen there, bedrooms and studies and empty spaces that I was informed used to house servants. My family had, of course, worked for the Cavendishes back in the late part of the last century. Everyone on the island had relatives who did. But I didn’t know anyone who’d worked at the house itself.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I made a selection,” he said as he led me down the steps at the back of the mansion, to a sunlit seating area beside the empty shell of a swimming pool. There was a table with melon, grapes and other fruits, pancakes, toast, cereal, eggs, mushrooms, bacon…
“You made this?”
“I’m afraid so.” He frowned.
I laughed. “I mean, I assumed you’d have servants…” I glanced around as if half expecting a butler to come sauntering down the steps.
Richard shook his head. “I hire people when I need them. I have someone coming up here from the town next week to do something with the garden. I’m not sure what. Napalm, perhaps. But I don’t need servants. I’m not afraid of a bit of hard work, and I’m not a terrible cook. Shall we?”
With a grin, I sat down and loaded a plate with food. It had been a long time since I’d had breakfast that consisted of more than a slice of melon. Cooking for one seemed pointless most of the time, so I ate what was convenient.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I said with a smile as I put a forkful of eggs and tomatoes into my mouth, savouring the sharp tang with a moan. “The club doesn’t care, but—” I caught myself before I said any more. What was I thinking? Way to ruin your chances by mentioning what you do for a living.
He smiled. “Real women come in all shapes and sizes. You’re beautiful, by the way, and you’d be beautiful with more weight or less.”
If he’d picked up on my hesitation over my job, he covered it perfectly. He poured out dark coffee from a pot and pushed a mug in my direction.
“Besides, when we’re done here we can always work off a few calories.”
I felt my cheeks burn as he met my eyes, my stomach clenching as he looked into my soul. An image of myself laying back on the bed, his naked frame caging me as he thrust deep inside. Kissing, writhing; sweat and saliva and cum…
“There’s a private beach over in that direction, through the overgrowth,” he continued. “I took a swim after breakfast the morning after I arrived here and the water was fine.”
“I don’t have a costume,” I said quickly.
He waved a hand. “My aunt spent a week here a few years ago. Said she hated the place, but she left a wardrobe full of unworn clothes. I’m sure we can find you something to fit.”
He smiled, and I felt the blush drain from my face.
***
“I… This isn’t…”
How to begin? I stared into the water, and it did look beautiful. But also terrifying. This was as close as I’d been to it in years.
One foot after the other, that’s all.
Until it closes over you.
I shook my head, wrapping my arms over my chest and hugging my own shoulders. The blue bikini clung awkwardly already, and it wasn’t even wet. Richard’s aunt was at least a size smaller than me, and all I could think about was the way my nipples poked right out of the Lycra when I looked at myself in the mirror.
Yes, I know I took my clothes off in front of strangers six nights a week, but that didn’t mean I wanted to expose myself in front of a man I actually might be falling for.
Oh my god.
I looked out at Richard, floating on his back as he smiled at me. Richard Cavendish. Was I falling for him after one morning? Or was I just infatuated? What exactly was the difference, anyway?
And more importantly, could I afford to lose my heart over a man who would probably be gone within the week?
“Is everything all right?”
My heart thundered, but I nodded. “It’s just, I haven’t been in the water for a while.”
“It’s really not that deep,” he said, frowning. “Or, we could go back to the house… If you’d rather?”
“No, I… I want to do this.” I took a deep breath. It was true. I did want to step into the water. I wanted to go to him and wrap my arms around him and frolic. Was that the right word? “I’m scared of the water.”
My heart thundered as I admitted it. I expected laughter, either incredulous or cruel. I looked away so that I wouldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to worry.
“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. I’ll grab you a towel, hold on.”
I turned back to see him wading through the water towards where I stood on the little jetty, a look of total concern on his face.
I shook my head. “No, I want to come in.”
He stopped, frowning. “Are you sure? We don’t have to.”
“Will you hold onto me?”
“Of course.”
And that was how it began.
The water on my feet was frightening at first, but then I felt his hands on my thighs as he took hold of me and helped me down gently, taking me in his arms and letting me turn. I took a deep breath in as the sea covered my legs, my pelvis, my stomach, and then I met his gaze and forgot to breathe out.
Richard looked at me with such hunger, and suddenly I was very aware of our proximity. The sound of the water lapping against the rocks dotted around this part of the island, and the view of the mainland out behind us, it was as if we were in our own little world, our own slice of heaven. There was a boat meandering across the bay, but I paid it no attention.
Instead, I leaned in and planted my lips against his.
Morning sunlight glinted off the water as we kissed, making me close my eyes against its brightness. I revelled in the taste of Richard’s mouth, salty, sweet, with a slight sharp tang of black coffee. Pushing my hair back from my face I smiled and he grinned back.
“Well, that was unexpected.”
“In a good way, I hope?”
“Oh, certainly. Will you come deeper?”
I nodded, still afraid but feeling safer so long as he was close by. He led me out until we had to start swimming, then took me around a jutting outcrop of rock, to a small inlet.
“It’s more private here,” he told me.
A little shiver traversed my spine as I took hold of him and pulled myself in tight. There was no mistaking what was happening between us, no denying it. And I didn’t want to. He’d led me to a private spot. He wanted me. And I wanted him.
Richard’s hand slipped around my waist, going to the small of my back, and I arched myself against him, no longer trying to hide the way my body was reacting to him. My nipples peaked hard against the bandeau top, and I pressed them against his chest as I felt his cock harden against me beneath the water.
“Are you still afraid?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “But I trust you.”
“How much do you trust me?”
“What do you mean?”
His grin was infectious, and I found myself smiling even though I didn’t know what was going to come next. When he dove under the surface, I felt all those memories come flooding back. Of losing sight of my best friend, of fearing she’d been pulled out by the tide.
And then I forgot them in a moment of bliss, as I felt first his hands on my waist, and then his mouth on my sex.
The combination of warm water and a warmer tongue made my pussy clench and ache. I writhed, letting out a shrill moan as my own juices flowed into the water and into his mouth. Unbidden, my hand reached out beneath the water, taking hold of the back of his head, tangling into his hair as he ate me out through the fabric of the bikini briefs.
When he re-emerged, I let him kiss me, tasting myself amongst the seawater on his lips as his hands went to my back, unfastening the top of the bikini. I didn’t care as it fell, I pushed my shoulders back and mewled as his mouth fastened onto the hard peak of my dark nipple, sending electric pulses into my brain.
He suckled on me, first one nipple, then the other, stimulating every taut nerve until I could barely take it. My hand slipped down under the water, inside the briefs and to my pussy, desperate for some relief.
But I didn’t get it.
He kissed my mouth, pulling me up onto him, and I wanted him inside me. I could feel his cock pressing at my slit, and I grabbed at it, enjoying the sound of his moans deepening as I stroked him. I grinned into our kiss, letting my tongue twine with his as I rested my arms against his shoulders, happy that I was safe in his arms.
Richard moved us back into the shallower water, where I was able to stand beneath the overhang of a rock and kiss him, my legs underwater while droplets ran down my torso, making me shiver as the gooseflesh rose on my skin.
As we kissed, I slipped my hand inside his shorts, running my fingers along his rigid cock. He moaned when I cupped his balls, squeezing them gently, and I moved my head aside to let him kiss my throat.
“I want to taste you,” I said. “I want you inside my mouth.”
He nodded. “Yes…” he whispered breathlessly, turning in the water, moving backwards.
My fear forgotten, I laid him back against a rock, the water nearly covering his face as I dipped low, going beneath the surface. I tugged his shorts down, exposing him, enjoying the look and feel of his erection, so smooth in the brine. When I emerged from the water, he grabbed me, pulling me up closer, his palm rubbing my breast as we kissed, his hand slipping down to my swollen clit, but I wasn’t ready. I pushed him away and dipped beneath again, taking him into my mouth.
I took him to the very back of my mouth until the head of his cock bobbed against my throat, and I sucked, licking the underside. There was no sound down there, only the deep echo of bubbles as I worked back and forth, back and forth, my hand tight around the base of his erection, working him as long as I could until my lungs burned and I had to come up for air.
“Fuck,” he moaned as I pushed the hair back from my face. “Jesus, I almost…”
I shook my head, reaching down to grab him under the water. His cock was hot to the touch now, close, ready. I knew what he was about to say, he almost lost his load in my mouth. And I wouldn’t have minded, but I had better ideas.
I pumped him a few more times, and then I stood completely out of the water, and with a little wriggle of my hips for effect, I turned, pulling the bikini briefs down, bending as I did and displaying myself for him. It was a striptease, but today I was his private dancer.
Lowering myself down, I let his cock run between my buttocks first, teasing, bringing him close. Then I shifted and took him inside me.
I was soaked, and his cock slid home. He drew a sharp breath as my tight pussy squeezed around his shaft, and then I began to move. Gasping for breath, I writhed against him, up and down, letting him drive in and out. I didn’t care that we might be seen, I didn’t care that he was a Cavendish, or that my family would never approve. I didn’t care that he was probably only here for a few days and then I’d never see him again.
I wanted this.
Moving faster, increasing the friction between us, I heard him start to grunt and groan with the effort of holding back.
“I’m close. Star, please…”
“It’s Vanessa,” I told him between gasps. “But I like you calling me Star.”
“Star, I can’t stop myself.”
“I’m ready,” I said. “I want this.”
No sooner had I said the words than I felt his whole body spasm against me. His cock pumped his seed inside me as my own orgasm crashed over the edge and I let out a whimper-gasp of release, my body quivering, my voice gone as release washed over me like a tidal wave.
I turned my head and his lips brushed against my cheek, his cock still buried inside, still hard, still needy. As I lifted myself up from his lap and turned to straddle him, I saw the look in his eyes and couldn’t resist. I leaned forward and planted my lips firmly against his, taking his mouth in a kiss.
“Shall we go inside?” he said finally as our bodies started to calm.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making me forget my fear. For making me remember how much I loved the water.”
Richard smiled. “My pleasure.” As he took my hand and helped me up, he said, “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Oh…” My heart sank as I realised the deeper meaning to that. So I was just a distraction after all. I shouldn’t have been surprised or upset, but I was. “I’ll find something.”
“I just meant, well… if you wanted to, I could use some help. The furnishings in the house are dated. Some are falling apart. Only if…”
I think the way I flung my arms around him caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly and didn’t plunge into the water. As we climbed out onto the shore, and started up towards the house, a little smile crossing my lips.
Furnishings.
Hardly the most romantic of things, but it was what it meant that had me grinning. If Richard was buying furnishings, then that meant he had plans to stay. I didn’t know his long term intentions, but I didn’t need to. What was important, was that I was able to see where things went between us. Perhaps they’d fizzle out, but there was a chance they wouldn’t. And a chance was all I needed.
I slipped my fingers into his and he turned his head towards me.
And I leaned in to kiss him.
Read all about the wonderful author: Nicci Haydon
