Out of Her Dreams

The restroom had four large enclosed toilets and a row of latrines along the wall. David backed her slowly up against the wall in one of the stalls, locking the door. He wasted precious little time or effort on clothing, simply unzipping, grinning down into her face as he dragged a condom out and let her do the honors. Sam blushed as she shakily opened the flimsy packet and barely managed to smooth it over his velvety-hard cock before he dragged her jeans off her, leaving her blouse alone.

“David!” she moaned, as he lifted her right leg up to curve around his hip, fitting his cock into her wet center without waiting for an invitation. And he didn’t need one. She was so ready. She drove her tongue eagerly between his lips and clutched his ass with both hands, urging him to fill her with every straining thrust of his hips against hers. Dear God! Was she really having mind-blowing sex in the men’s bathroom? Her thoughts shattered and it didn’t matter where the hell she was, as her body splintered and rational thought was completely wiped out.

Afterward, she clung to him as he stood trembling in the stall, holding her tightly to his straining body as he regained his breath. Her tumultuous orgasm still thrummed through her shivering body and the feel of his still-solid cock buried deep in her body was a heady, completely erotic sensation.

“Has anyone ever told you how amazingly sexy you are?” His voice was a growl of breathless sensuality against her ear.

“No.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. And if you play your cards right, you might get a rematch.”

“Is that a promise?” Her voice was husky with desire.

“It is. Are you interested in another go?”

“Do you have to ask?” she purred wickedly.

She gasped as he moved to pleasure her again. He lifted her slowly and drew her down over his shaft, pulling her body tight against his as he inhaled sharply and caught her mouth hungrily, driving his tongue between her lips to move against hers, stroking with each slow, heady stroke of his cock. She moaned and gasped against his mouth, “Oh David, you are so marvelous.”

“It’s nice to know I’m appreciated.” His voice was a muffled rasp of desire as he began to regain his momentum.

“Oh my Lord but you are appreciated, David Chance. My God.” She threw back her head and arched into his body as she climaxed again. “Please, oh please don’t stop,” she moaned against his throat.

“I have no intention of stopping.” His growl was deep and breathy against her temple as he obliged her desperate need to be filled.

“You are my magnificent, wonderful, amazing champion,” she whispered against his ear and he seemed to find yet more energy in his flagging reserves.

The feel of her sweet, hot body claiming his with every deep, needy stroke left him breathless and eager for her climax, which would clamp her sweet, tight pussy around his cock and drive him over the edge into oblivion. And when she came apart in his arms and nipped his neck in her delirious orgasm, he drove himself deep and released, panting as he nearly lost the ability to stand.

God, how he wanted this woman, how he loved the feel of her desire for him. He would have to go slowly and not scare the hell out of her.

Chapter Eight

They took the guys to the airport the following morning and David handed each of them a thick envelope jammed full of stills and candids from the two days in Chicago, along with his e-mail address and signed copies of Sam’s latest book.

Sam gave Joe her cell phone number and told him to keep in touch. She had really enjoyed his company.

David watched her as she hugged the young man and kissed his cheek and gave him the paper with her number on it. When she turned back to him and sighed, he noted the sad look in her eyes. “You still have the hots for that kid?” he asked softly.

Her eyes widened and she lifted her chin a little as she replied coolly, “That kid is a sweet guy. And I never had the hots for him.”

“You gave him your number.”

“You gave him your e-mail address. Have you got the hots for him?” She glowered up into his face as his frown changed to a slow grin.

“Maybe. He’s sort of a hunk in a gangly, skinny sort of way.” He mimicked her tone.

“I always thought you guys liked rolling around the mat with other guys for some darker reason.”

Her frown was adorable and he chucked her under the chin as he bent close to her face. “Come on now. We have an appointment to keep and we have to get all the way downtown.”

“Downtown?”

“That’s where the papers are that we’re gonna sign. Unless you’ve changed your mind.” His dark gaze pinned hers.

Sam shook her head. “No. I haven’t changed my mind. I was just hoping you’d changed yours.”

“Not a chance, Ms. Hastings.”

“I was afraid you would say that.” She climbed back into the limo and David told the driver to take them to an address in the heart of Chicago’s business district.

“How would you like to spend the next three weeks in Barbados?” he asked softly, lifting her hand to kiss it slowly as his thumb massaged her palm.

“Barbados? What’s in Barbados?”

“Beautiful beaches, gorgeous water, warm sun and the Presidential Suite at the Hilton Barbados.” His voice was quiet. His eyes searched her face.

“Sounds more like a honeymoon than a wrestling tour.”

“Exactly.”

She thought she’d heard him right but that last word made her blink and turn to look up into his face with a confused frown. “Excuse me? What do you mean by ‘exactly’?”

David cleared his throat and seemed suddenly nervous. When he spoke again, he said quietly, “This is just a legal agreement, Sam. I had my attorney draw it up. I want to be certain you don’t fly off and leave me high and dry again.”

She wet her lips and gazed at him, almost afraid to ask what he meant. “Enlighten me, David. I hate nasty surprises.”

His lips curved wickedly. “I would hope this surprise wouldn’t be considered ‘nasty’. I…had my attorney draw up a Memorandum of Understanding.”

“A Memorandum of Understanding? Like a legal contract? About me being your sex slave for six months?” Her eyes widened then narrowed.

David coughed and shook his head. “I don’t think that that would hold much water in a court of law, Sam. It has to be a proper Memorandum of Understanding between us.”

One hour later, Sam sat staring numbly at her copy of the agreement that she had just signed in front of a notary at the attorney’s office.

Her mind spun and her heart clenched to think that she had just legally agreed to live with him “for a period not to exceed six months”, at the end of which time either or both parties could decide to end the arrangement without any legal encumbrances or remuneration from the other etc., etc.

In effect, a trial marriage.

The lump that sat in the pit of her stomach should have been a bubble of joy. This agreement insured that neither she nor Phyllis would be liable to a lawsuit at the end of the agreement, no matter how it turned out.

Was she legally married? Hardly. She had agreed to live with David Chance until he grew weary of the arrangement and freed her by signing a release that guaranteed he would allow Samantha Hastings and her publisher the use of his face, body, name and so on and so forth insofar as the six books that were already completed were concerned. The catch was, if she wanted out before the six months were up, he could hit her and her publisher and business manager with the promised lawsuits.