Page 2 of Captivated

Continuing with our tour, I point to another set of stairs that leads to the third level. “Our private quarters are on the third floor. There is an elevator across the hall, it’s original to the house so bear that in mind with its small size and age. But you two look healthy, we will take the stairs.” I grin, trotting down ahead of them.

Off the foyer I show them the formal living room and parlor. “This is the parlor for sitting … chatting … whatever.” I point to the console. “There are games as well.” We walk down the large hall admiring the craftsmanship of the late 1800s and early 1900s; at the back of the house is the dining room and kitchen with a vestibule located between them leading to the outdoor porch and courtyard area. “Breakfast is served between eight and ten in the dining room or if you prefer alfresco dining, you may eat outside on the side porch or poolside. Evening hors d’oeuvres are served between six and eight.” As we walk and talk, I point to additional guest quarters and the library.

“This is stunning,” Marcus boasts as he walks off the porch admiring the courtyard, gardens, and double Roman style in-ground pool. “Is the pool saltwater?”

“Yes, it is.” I nod as I continue to walk. “Feel free to stroll the gardens; we have a variety of flowers blooming. There are some great little private nooks and crannies.” Sighing I stare at the garden … it’s peaceful. I spend a lot of time here.

“I’m going to tell my boss about this place.” Gerry beams. “This is Amelia’s best kept secret.” His words make me smile.

“Please do. We do a lot of business with repeat guests. Okay, well my husband’s name is Eric. He will be here later this evening. Please make yourselves at home and let me know if you have any questions or need anything. You two enjoy yourselves.” I leave them venturing into the gardens as I finish my evening preparations.

It’s almost seven. The dread is pooling with the anticipation of Eric’s return. Although, he’s usually pleasant when we have guest staying at the inn. Grabbing the novel I’ve been reading, I get comfy on the sofa and lost in the pages, lost into the dream of love and romance. After all, it’s my only escape.

“I see you’re reading … you’re always reading.” Eric smirks.

Startled by his voice, I jump, and ignore his comment. I was so engrossed I didn’t even hear him close the door. He starts unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it aside. He never reads; just another thing we don’t have in common. He throws his socks on the floor, plopping his overly pale ass in his chair. I look up, pursing my lips. It would be nice to look at something sexy once in a while. I continue to read my book.

“Why aren’t you talking?”

“I am reading.” I’m clearly still annoyed with him from this morning’s behavior. It drives me insane, why does he think he can act like a complete lunatic? Eight hours later he’s supposed to be forgiven and I’m to keep my emotions intact. It’s been a long ten years of marriage, living like this.

“How many guests are here?”

“Two couples, both are on the second floor.”

“Hmm, that’s weird with the festival this weekend, we’re usually booked up.”

“Yeah!” I don’t know what he expects me to say.

“Come rub my back, it’s killing me.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“You never want to touch me. I am your husband. I should buy you some wine.” He cuts his eyes down my body. "You know a little bubbly makes you feel frisky.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t want any wine and I don’t want to touch you,” I hiss.

He bites his tongue as he flips the television on.That’s a first. It’s only temporary though, I have figured his game out at this point. He acts like a complete asshole, then he tries to be on good behavior. If he really acts like a super-colossal ass, I always get a gift. I laugh now on the inside when I get one, because it means he’s only to do it again!

QUINTON

God she’s beautiful. I can’t believe she said yes and here we’re standing in front of our friends and family, saying our vows.“Quinton repeat after me,” I hear the officiant say.“I, Quinton Starks, take thee to have and to hold, for better or worse, in sickness and health all the days of my life.” She cries as I slip her platinum diamond wedding band on her petite finger. I massage her finger just a few seconds. She has the most beautiful sapphire eyes I’ve seen; almost magical in the way they sparkle. Her lips are perfectly kissable, not too full but not flat. I’ve kissed a lot of women in my day, but her lips are perfect. They melt into mine as if we’re one. I grin like a silly schoolboy as I watch her slip my titanium wedding band on my wedded finger. Finally, we’ve sealed the deal. She’s mine to love and hold for the rest of our lives.

I grunt awake, feeling her hands rubbing over my six pack and up my chest; she moans her satisfaction. With my eyes still closed, I grab her hand, rubbing my fingers across her knuckles. There’s no ring on that wedded finger, but I don’t let my dissatisfaction show. My morning wood is throbbing from my dream; I peek out from heavy eyelids at the mound of blond hair kissing around on my stomach. Hmm, I do have a problem that needs attention … I gently guide her head south. The blonde bombshell is more than happy to oblige as she takes me into her mouth. I close my eyes and imagine the woman in my dreams.

Blondie collapses next to me after giving me head, grinning like a Cheshire cat, still touching my killer body. I really need to be more selective in the ladies I pick up in bars. This one has the potential to be a hanger. I look at my clock, seven a.m.Fuck,I’ve missed my morning run. Exhaling, I sit up, tossing my covers aside, standing with no regard of my nakedness or the wanton woman in my bed.

“I’ve got to hit the gym before work,” I hear my egotistical self saying. Man, I can sound like a douche.

“You’re kidding.” She giggles trying to play, yet knowing the implied message is ‘get the fuck out of my bed.’

“Nope.” I walk into my bath, looking at the captivating male staring back at me. I run my hands through my tangled hair and down over my mustache. I’m quite alluring, not to mention I would be one hell of a catch, I think, remembering my dream. “That’s never going to happen,” I whisper to myself as I see my bathroom door open.

Rolling my eyes, I turn around to see blondie all pouting, arms crossed. “What?” I hiss.

“You’re fucking kidding right?” She’s starting to squeak. “I just let you blow your load in my mouth.”

“And you loved it,” I remind her because of course she did. Why else would a woman suck a man’s cock if not for the taste of his essence? I carry on, jerking up my workout shorts and put on a fitted tank.

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