Picture a humongous function hall, decorated for the Fourth of July, filled to overflowing with people in decadent, expensive gowns and tuxedos, music playing everything from the big band era to Pink, from TLC to Santana. All sorts of white coated servers are winding in and out of the little clumps of people with hors d'oeuvres and champagne.
I was wandering aimlessly through the throng, looking for my two gal pals, swaying along with Santana's Turn Your Lights on, when I bumped into him. Not intentionally, one of those white coats had just barreled by, bumping me just enough to bump into him. His huge hand at my waist steadied me, held me close against his side. I looked up, way up, to see warm, smiling hazel eyes grinning down at me.
"Are you alright?" he asked. His voice was a clear rumble with a faint brogue.
"Yes, thank you, one of those pesky white coats speeding through the crowd. I'm sorry for interrupting."
"It's been a long time since someone as lovely as you has interrupted us. Thank heavens; Jordy was starting his rerun of his financial plan. Would you like to dance?" His grin grew wider, showing perfect, white teeth. I nodded with a grin of my own and he led me to the dance floor by the hand.
When he took me in his arms for the waltz, he introduced himself as Phelan Nash. I gave him my name, and then blushed furiously when his name rang that bell. "You've heard of me?"
"I've watched your show religiously." His grin became a smile.
"I'm grateful. Somehow, I don't think you expected something like this to happen, did you?"
"Not outside my dreams."
"I'm only a man, an actor."
"I know, but...let me ask you this, how would you feel if Brigit Bardot..."
"I'd probably be tongue tied and falling over my feet." He laughed, sliding his hand up my back. "I see your point."
"I'll promise not to tangle my tongue too much, or fall over in a faint." I was already being seduced by his cologne, subtle and woodsy, his arms strong but gentle, around me. He led me around the dance floor, waltzing me expertly, occasionally whirling me around so he could capture me close.
We chatted a little more as we danced. He was in town for this gala and an expo the day after tomorrow, and then he was back to the wilds of Scotland to start shooting his next season. We talked of his home in Ireland and all my relations over there.
The music changed to Brett Eldridge's Don't Ya. He never missed a beat, snuggling me into a seductive, sensuous embrace. My arms were wound around his massive shoulders, as his were sliding and slithering up and down my spine, his fingertips brushing the swell of my ass. I was quickly becoming a puddle in his arms. His head rose from my shoulder to gaze down at me.
"Dari St. Michel...you're the author of Mydirtylittleworld?"
"Well, yes, I am."
"I've read your book and I loved it." I felt the blush rising in my cheeks again. "I must ask...are you dancing with me to make Kian jealous or are you dancing with me because you want to?"
"I'm dancing with you because I want to move forward in my life. Kian and I have been over for the past four months."
"Over or not, he looks furious." Phelan mumbled, looking over my head. I turned to see my soon to be ex, Kian Mc Daniels, gazing steadily at me, his eyes dark and thunderous, a buxom redhead dangling forgotten on his arm.
"It's not my problem if he's furious." I answered coldly, turning back to Phelan, trying to regain that warm, easy feeling I'd had before. "Do you want me to explain it all?"
"Nope, can you forget he's here?" His fingertips were trailing again up and down my bare back.
"If you keep touching me like this I might even forget my name."
He smiled down into my eyes, trailing his fingertips just a little slower, a little more sensuously. I felt his hand brush the side of my breast, sending a sizzle through my body. I could feel every molecule of my body responding to his touch, making me blaze inside, making my loins a molten, damp hole.
We danced another slow song, sliding and rubbing against each other, exchanging deep, moist lip locks. "Mmmm, I really need a drink..."
"I do too, c'mon." Phelan took my hand and led me through the minor crush at the bar. We managed to get a couple of really strong Washington Apples and catch two seats at the bar. He held my hand, stroking my fingers, my palm, sending deep, delicious pulls into my loins. "How long has it been?"
"Four months." I answered, sipping at the whiskey.
"Am I the first since him?" I looked at him curiously, wondering where this was headed.
"No, you're not."
"I'd like to get to know you..." he stroked a finger along my cheek, down the column of my throat, "...all of you." The look in his eyes had me licking my lips in anticipation, in a building heat.
His fingertip trailed lower, down into the deep vee of my dress, brushing against the inside of my breast. I couldn't look away, held in place as his fingertip slid under the fabric, found my hard nipple, rubbed it. He saw my sigh, my eyes going blind, slid another fingertip in, tweaking it hard enough to make me gasp, clear my vision.
"...mmm, I love being a breast man...yours are beautiful...natural..." he leaned closer, as I dared another deep sip, feeling the whiskey burn as it hit my gut, feeling my nameless want rising in my hole, need to be filled, to be pounded into satiation.
I could see walnut flecks in his hazel green eyes as he leaned even closer, his whole hand inside my dress, his fingers kneading my nipple, my breast, his mouth a breath away.
"I want you...and I want you to know just who's making love to you, when I do..."
"Phelan..."I breathed as his thumb brushed my nipple again. He smiled before gently kissing me. He tasted of whiskey and sweetness, his tongue a talented tangler.
I was ready to dive into him, abandon running rampant in my body and that foolish thing I called a brain. I slid my fingers into his thick mink hair, holding on as our kisses grew more heated, deeper.
"Dear God, you are potent." I breathed, gazing steadily into his eyes. "Let's go somewhere else...somewhere a little..."
"A lot more private. As I'm sure to be ravishing you as soon as I'm able." He grinned, kissing me quick, and then knocking the rest of his drink back, like a shot. I saw my glass was half full and drained it in three quick swallows.
With a grin, he took my hand and led me to the exit, letting the paparazzi catch us leaving together, holding hands, laughing. A limo pulled up for him and we climbed in.
I was sitting against the far door, facing him, waiting eagerly to pounce on him. He leaned back against his door, stretching his legs out, and crooked his finger. I climbed up him as best I could in this dress.
He took my face in his hands, pressing light kisses to my forehead, both eyelids and lastly my mouth, tasting, sipping. I felt his cock, hard and hot, throbbing against my belly and moaned as I pressed my palm to it, feeling how big, how thick his cock was.
