Read Online The Perfect Affair by Lutishia Lovely - Free Book Online Page B

giggled like a schoolgirl dreaming of her first crush. She had no doubt that tonight—their last together before leaving LA—would be sweeter than the berry panna cotta that they’d shared at the Inn. Tonight she’d do more than warm his bed; she vowed to give Randall the type of loving that he wouldn’t forget.
    After a quick shower, she donned the provocative design purchased at Frederick’s of Hollywood, in her opinion a precursor to the nationally popular Victoria’s Secret. One look at herself in the dressing room mirror, and she knew this sheer black catsuit that covered everything yet left nothing to the imagination would be just the image to imprint upon Randall’s mind; just the memory for him to take back to Virginia. Now giving herself a front-and-back perusal, she knew that tonight would be their hottest yet! After sliding her slender feet into five-inch stilettos, her look was complete. She wore nothing else: no makeup, no jewelry, not even a tie to hold back her hair. She’d washed it and, after doing a flash dry with the hair dryer, let the slightly damp curly locks cascade down her back. All week she’d sported a flatiron-straight style; tonight he’d see her hair wild and untamed—just like her.
    Just like she wanted this night to be: wild, untamed, unforgettable.
    She’d barely laid her head on the pillow when the door opened and he walked in. Easing up on her elbow, she turned her body toward him and struck a pose, laughing as he stopped dead in his tracks. “Well, hello there.”
    “Wow.”
    She laughed again, sitting up completely and tossing her thick curls away from her face. “You like?”
    His eyes devoured her, much as his mouth had the filet mignon earlier in the evening. He took a step toward her. “Just . . . wow . . .”
    She slid off the king-size bed, with an agenda. All week he had taken the lead; tonight, she planned to do a Janet Jackson and take control.Walking over to the iPod and speakers and selecting the song she’d preset for his arrival, she turned to him. “Have a seat. There’s something I want to show you.”
    As the lyrics from Beyoncé’s “Halo” filled the room, so did Jacqueline’s sensuality. She moved her hips—slowly, sensually—knowing that the black mesh made her butt cheeks stand out even more than they normally did. Rubbing her hands across them she bent down, hips in rhythm, and touched her toes as if she’d been born on a pole and weaned on the rain that showered the dancers. Using muscles she’d only recently read about, she caused her cheeks to wink at him, finally opening her eyes to view him from between her legs.
    She liked what she saw.
    He was lying back on the bed, his eyes at half-mast—slowly, sensually, massaging his dick. It was something she planned to do in the not-too-distant future. But not yet. She wanted him harder, thicker, and longer than he’d ever been, almost ready to explode upon contact. She wanted him so excited that he felt his balls would combust. When he came, she wanted it to be deep inside her, his love flowing into her womb.
    She turned around. Her eyes never wavered from his. He seemed powerless to do anything but stare. Yes, baby. I know what you want. And I’m going to give it to you. She took her middle finger, placed it in her mouth, and began sucking it. All the while she ground her hips standing up, the way she planned to later while lying down. She took her wet middle finger and began tracing the miniature dots the mesh of her catsuit created, along her breasts and stomach, vagina and thighs. She worked her way to the floor, still keeping her butt in time to the rhythm. She licked her fingers again, playfully tapped the top of her punanny, becoming aroused as the mesh rubbed against her hardening nub. She tweaked her nipples. They popped like headlights against the mesh, lighting up Randall’s awareness of what she was working with. And then back down again, dropping it like it was hot. Even hotter