The woman longed for discretion. The black trench coat that was snugly belted about her tiny waist, the severe bun in which her hair was scraped back, the almost none existent make up. All spoke of her desire to remain unnoticed. On the busy Seattle street, it wasn't hard to obtain. A naval ship had docked not to far from her destination, drawing most everyone's attention to the couples being reunited. A lone woman in black, her head down, was of not interest.
She paused outside an older hotel. It had the appeal of old Hollywood glamour. A quick glance at the address told her she was at the right place. The gilded door handle was cold in her hot palm as she tugged the beveled glass door open. The sound of her heels clicking across the pale yellow marble floor drew the attention of the woman working behind the front desk. Without saying a word, she slid a small card across the mahogany counter. The woman looked at, then at the woman in front of her. Pressing her lips together, she drops an old fashioned key into the open and waiting palm.
Not bothering with the elevator, she slowly glided up the stairs, careful to not make eye contact with the few people who passed her by. It wouldn't do for her to be recognized, her reasons for being her questioned. The hospital didn't own her personal life. She was free to do as she pleased. And this is what she pleased.
The room was the last on right. The key turned easy enough. Not that she had doubted its ability to do so. There was no light as she stepped inside. Just a faint glow from the street lights outside. It made little difference, for the moment she closed the door behind her a silken blindfold covered her eyes. Her lush red lips curve into a smile as a fire starts to build low in her belly, an ache already starting between her thighs.
Let the game begin, she thought as strong masculine hands settled on her shoulders. She shivered as they slid down her arms, across her stomach. The knot in her belt came undone, gapping the long coat open. In the flickering of light her body glowed. With the exception of thigh high fish nets she wore nothing underneath. The man slid the coat from her body. Her lower lip catches between her teeth as his hands memorize her body. Fingertips softly traced every curve of her face, trailed down her throat.
Her head fell back against his chest as he cupped her breast. The ache grew stronger, more intense. She could feel the evidence of her desire pooling in the apex of her thighs. He pinched a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, rolling it into a hard pebble. A soft moan escapes from her parted lips as his fingers find her clit. Using much the same method as he had with her nipple, he toys with the small nub of desire before sliding a finger between her wet folds. She longed to beg him for release, for him to slide one, two, fingers into her aching flesh.
She gasps as his hands leave her body altogether. Before she can protest his hands slide along her arms once more, grasping her wrists. There is a snap and the feel of cold metal around her wrists. The handcuffs should have inspired fear. All they did was make the wetness between her legs grow.
