Secret Identity. Hidden Lust. Overwhelming Temptation.
The low cut floor length evening gown clung to her curves, seeming more like something that had been painted on her body rather than a piece of clothing. It left just enough to the imagination to whet Jonathon Rutledge’s appetite for more.
The back dipped dangerously low. The side slit reached half way up her thigh. The front seemed to be nothing more than two strips of fabric extending upward from her waist and meeting at the back of her neck while managing to barely cover and contain her breasts. There was no way she could possibly have anything on underneath.
Jonathon had noticed the stunning blonde in the red dress the moment he arrived at the party. He could almost feel the silky strands of her shoulder length hair as it tangled around his fingers. Her Mardi Gras style mask covered most of her face in feathers, sequins and glitter. Her hips swayed in a seductive glide as she walked across the floor.
He spotted his host standing at the bar and sauntered toward him, trying to appear much more casual than he felt. He kept a watchful eye on the stunning vision in the red dress as he crossed the room.
“Jonathon.” Marty Collins stuck out his hand in greeting. “Good to see you. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
“I wasn’t sure, either.” He shoved his mask up on his forehead, then shook hands with Marty. “I had to fly to London to salvage a business deal that was about to fall apart. I just got back night before last. I didn’t want to miss the festivities.” He scanned the room, noting everything that came across his line of sight. “This is quite a shindig you’ve thrown. It’s been a long time since I attended a costume party.”
“I had a lot of social obligations I owed to various business associates, so I decided to take care of all of them at once by renting the hotel ballroom and throwing a lavish masked ball.”
Marty scrutinized Jonathon’s costume from the buccaneer hat and head wrap bandana with attached beaded braids, the long-sleeved shirt with wide collar topped by the leather vest, the cutlass hanging from the leather belt, on down to the black boots. “Captain Jack Sparrow, I presume?” An amused grin spread across his face. “Aren’t you a little off course? We’re no where near the Caribbean .”
“This was my second choice.” A sly grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I had planned to wear just the mask and a pair of black socks while sporting an impressive erection and claim I was dressed as a porn star.”
Jonathon glanced toward the French doors leading to the large balcony. The rain continued to pound against the glass without any sign of let up. “Unfortunately the weather turned cold. I decided a black mask and black socks with only a cock cozy to keep me warm wouldn’t have been appropriate even if the cock cozy looked like a hot dog bun.”
Marty’s appreciative laugh filled the air. “Well, if anyone could get away with something like that, it would be you.”
Jonathon grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray as the waiter passed by. “Of course,” he indicated the stunning blonde vision across the room, “that’s a body that would have kept the blood rushing hot and my soldier standing at full attention no matter how cold the weather was.” A twitch in his groin told him just how accurate that statement had been. He took a swallow from his glass as he watched the object of his fascination for a moment.
“So, tell me, Marty…who is she and why haven’t I ever seen her before? One doesn’t forget a body like that. Have you been keeping her all for yourself?” Jonathon gave his friend a teasing wink. “Does your wife know about her?”
A slight frown crossed Marty’s face. “I have no idea who she is. I had assumed she was someone’s date, but she doesn’t seem to be with anyone in particular. She’s danced with several people but never the same man twice. She appears to be here solo.”
Jonathon pulled himself up to his full six foot-two inch height, squared his broad shoulders and pulled his mask back into place. “Don’t concern yourself with this problem. I’ll get to the bottom of this or my name isn’t Captain Jack Sparrow.” The bottom, the top, the front, the back, that most desirable place nestled between those incredible legs…
He placed his empty champagne glass on a tray, grabbed two full glasses and carried them across the room.
“Allow me to introduce myself. Captain Jack Sparrow at your service.” He handed her one of the glasses of champagne, gave a courtly bow, and took her hand in his. Rather than kissing the back of her hand, he kissed the inside of her wrist. The heat of her blood rushing through her veins warmed his lips. “May I ask what such a demure, innocent maiden is doing here all by herself?”
Her gaze slowly traveled from the top of his hat down to his boots, then back to his face. He could see the sparkle in her blue eyes and her delicious looking mouth, but the rest of her face remained hidden behind her mask.
There was something vaguely familiar about her eyes and mouth, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen them or who they belonged to. Or even whether it was real or just his imagination. An image popped into his mind, a picture of his rigid cock sliding in and out of that delicious looking mouth with her perfect lips forming a seal around his shaft.
She ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. “Tell me, Captain Sparrow,” she dropped her voice to a seductive whisper, “what makes you think I’m so innocent?”
Reviews and more excerpts on my website www.samanthagentry.com