Caught in the Rain: Season 1
I sat at the long, somewhat generic, downstairs bar of the Daytona Beach Grand Destiny Hotel with a martini sitting untouched in front of me. I didn’t really drink martinis but this weekend I wasn’t me. For the next forty-eight hours Eve Spencer didn’t exist. Instead I was Joyce Flayer, a quiet but spunky account manager looking for some fun at the boring sales conference she was attending alone.
For some reason I decided Joyce liked martinis before I remembered that I hated them. But then again, I didn’t really need the alcohol. This was a part and as long as the martini helped me feel like Joyce, then nothing else mattered.
“Hey stranger,” a very familiar voice murmured as the man it was attached to slid onto the barstool beside me.
I rolled my eyes. It was our first stab at this weekend away idea I had and we were already failing. “You don’t know me,” I hissed without looking at him.
“Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat and shifted.
I toyed with the stem of my martini glass. Jake and I had a good marriage and very healthy sex life but parenthood had made things a bit stale. I craved a little adventure and, more than anything, an opportunity to be a little wild. Jake and I used to sneak away to have sex in bathrooms mid-party. We found dark corners and hallways. Those can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other kids had kids and we went from hand jobs in secret to behaving like proper adults.
It was the right thing to do but oh so boring.
That’s when I suggested meeting up as strangers. No kids. No responsibilities. And a city where we knew almost no one.
“Can I get you a drink?” The bartender finally made his way over to the man beside me.
“What do you have on draft?”
While they discussed brews I snuck a look at him. We’d arrived separately so I had no idea what to expect. To my surprise he’d kind of, sort of, dressed the part. His hair was brushed back more than usual. His five o’clock shadow had been left wild and unruly instead of trimmed back or shaven. Instead of his usual black t-shirt or dress shirt, he wore flannel in Florida along with his most worn-in pair of blue jeans.
He looked different but just as yummy as he always did.
I shimmied in my blue silk blouse, full black skirt, and blazer. Joyce liked to dress up while still professional. (If professional ladies wore no underwear, that is.)
“Can I get you a different drink?” he asked. “You don’t seem to be enjoying the one you have.”
Decent opening line. “No thank you. I’m just taking it slow tonight. Joyce Flayer,” I said, holding out my hand and smiling in the most flirtatious way possible. I’d have felt ridiculous if it wasn’t all for fun.
“Hopper,” he replied with an equally mischievous grin. “Hopper Hawkins.”
“Are those really your names?” the bartender asked as he set Hopper’s beer down.
“Of course,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.
“It’s just that. . . well, there’s a Chief Hopper and a Joyce Byer on Stranger Things. Have you ever watched it?”
“Never seen it,” I lied. Because by “never seen it” I obviously meant just binged on the new season this week. It was how we came up with our code names for the weekend. I wanted to live out my grumpy cop fantasy and Jake was more than happy to oblige.
“Well, I guess stranger things have happened.” The bartender thought he was hilarious.
And honestly? He kind of was. His play on words was on pointe.
“So what are you doing here, Joyce?” Hopper asked once the bartender moved on to another customer.
“I’m just in town for the weekend. There’s a sales conference here at the hotel.” I waved behind me as if I belonged in one of the ballrooms where their meetings were taking place.
“Interesting. All alone?”
“For now.” I turned to face him. “And you?”
“What is it you do, Hopper?” Was it weird I got a little thrill calling him by a different name? Probably. Maybe? Did I care?
He could have simply said hot cop and I’d have been just as happy. “Are you a police office here?”
He shook his head slowly, his eyes locked on mine. “No. I’m here on vacation. I wanted to see the Atlantic.”
“Alone?” my voice came out all breathy, making it obvious how this little banter was turning me on already.
“Sometimes you just have to take your destiny into your own hands.” His gaze dipped lower, to my very intentionally low-cut blouse.
I took a deep breath and his eyes widened. Bingo. “Can I see your gun?”
He just barely held back a laugh. “That doesn’t seem appropriate.”
“I know how to handle one.”
His eyes darkened and he cleared his throat. God, how I loved when I got to him. “I’m sure you do. Perhaps it would be in the best interest of the public if I made sure though.”
“Here?” The bar was filling quickly. We’d chosen this hotel because of the conference. It was easy to be just another attendee from out of town, looking for company in the hotel bar. Sure enough the once quiet room was now over three-quarters full.
“There’s a small booth in the back corner.” He pointed over my shoulder to a spot no one wanted because it was too small for a group.
I nodded, flagging down the bartender. “We’re moving over there.”
He waved us away, happy to have space for the rush of customers. I took the lead so Jake—I mean Hopper—could enjoy the sway of my hips as I moved across the busy room.
When I turned to sit I was rewarded with dark eyes and what I was quite positive was a growing erection behind his zipper. Hello lover. It had been too long. Far too long since we’d had fun like this. I felt alive again. Electricity crackled in the air, my skin was on fire, my heart and my head thudding with the adrenaline pumping through me.
Just the idea that he was turned on by me, and willing to let me touch him, had me hot and wet. How far we would go in public, I had no idea. We set no rules for this. Well, technically we set one: do what felt right.
And this felt oh so right.
“A little to the left,” he said with a nod of his head in the direction he wanted me to move. “There.” Then he sat beside me. So close we might as well be one. “It’s so dark I couldn’t see anything under the table and I could just barely make out your hand on your drink.” He whispered this against my ear, then dropped a kiss on my cheek. “Is this okay?”
I shivered. “Yes. This is wonderful.”
“Not too fast?”
“No. Not for me.”
With his index finger he turned my head to face him. “Good.” Then he angled his lips over mine.
I kissed him back. Once, twice, three times. Then snuck a glance out at the room. No one looked our way. No one cared. It was as if we were invisible.
I slid my hand up the inside of his thigh. Up, up, up, until I found the ridge. Rock hard and straining. With my index finger I traced the outline of his erection, listening as his breath grew deeper, never once looking away from his eyes.
“Do you like how this feels?”
“Yes,” he groaned under his breath.
“It’s not too much.”
That sent another thrill through me. “I told you I knew how to handle things.”
That earned me another groan. “What about me? Don’t you want to know how I handlethings?”
Oh god. “Yes . . . ”
His hand cupped my hip and squeezed. I turned on instinct to face him in the booth, my leg slung over his thigh, my other leg wrapped around his to hold me steady.
His hand traveled up over my blouse but under my blazer, searching for my nipple. “You’re not wearing a bra.”
I shook my head, lost in the way it felt to have his hand on me.
“I’m not Eve.”
His thumb brushed over my nipple, the silk blouse giving the simple gesture an added tingle. Lust and desire shot through me. Yes. Yes . . . More.
“Okay, Joyce. Do you like it when I touch you here?”
“Yes. Do it again.”
He did. Again and again. Back and forth, then in circles. I squeezed my thighs together, seeking more.
“Why didn’t you wear a bra tonight, Joyce?”
The rough, obviously aroused way he said that only turned me on more. “Because I was hoping to meet a man who knew what he was doing.”
His other hand palmed my other hip and slid up under my blazer, finding my other nipple. I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned in and captured his mouth, flicking his lips until he let me in.
He played me like that, stealing my whimpers even as he drove me wild with want. Back and forth the silk teased me. Around and around.
Oh, and I returned the favor. Tracing, stroking, squeezing, until he suddenly pulled back with a gasp. “No more.” He blinked several times, taking deep, steadying breaths. “You have that fifty I gave you before we left?”
We’d been trading dirty texts and notes all week. The last contained a fifty dollar bill.
He let out another long slow breath. “Get out first so I can walk behind you. Leave it on the bar for our tab.”
I fished the money out of my wallet and stood up. Jake stood up behind me, placing a hand on my hip. We walked up to the bar and I held up the bill. The bartender hurried over.
“Keep the change,” Hopper said, pushing me toward the elevators.
“Where are we going now?”
He hit the up button then ran his nose along the column of my neck. “To my room. I’m going to fuck you hard.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Would you like to go somewhere else?” I felt him grin. His hand splayed across my belly. “To the beach? The car?” His hand inched higher, tracing the lower curve of my breasts. He didn’t bother offering anything other sexual options.
“No. I just wondered if I got a say.”
“Not really. Your choices are hard or harder.”
For some reason that only made me wetter.
The elevator dinged and he returned his hand to my hip. Thankfully it was empty. We stepped inside. The moment the doors shut he pressed his erection against me, his fingers finding my nipples as he ground me closer to orgasm.
One, two, five, ten floors later I was shaking with need. Not satisfied but not upset either. We stumbled to his room and the moment the door opened I fell to my knees, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. I tasted him as I stripped myself naked.
Except for the skirt. “I need help with this.”
“No you don’t.” He pulled me up and pushed me into the suite. “Bend over the desk.” Then he flipped my skirt up, running his fingers over my bare ass. “Garter belts turn me on.” He snapped the left, then the right.
The sting felt good.
The other good thing was the gruff, no-nonsense way he was behaving.
“Are you always this demanding, Hopper?”
He knelt behind me and tasted me. “Yes.” Then he spread me wider, tasting me deeper. “You are so wet for me.”
I made some sort of grunting noise of approval because words were no longer a possibility. Not with his warm mouth on me.
He stood, running his cock along my skin. “This is how hard you make me. I meant what I said. I need it hard tonight. Are you ready for that?”
I whimpered a pathetically needy, “Yes. God, yes.”
Then he ran his hands up my spine, down my arms to my hands, moving them to the edge of the small desk. He lifted my torso high enough so that he could palm my breasts. “Hold on.”
I had enough warning to wrap my fingers around the desk edge before he pushed inside me just enough to wet his tip. He kneaded my breasts as he pumped deeper, only stopping when he was buried to the hilt.
It gave me a moment to adjust to his deep invasion. From this angle I could feel every inch of him. It was almost too much. It would be too much once he started moving again.
That anticipation, that knowledge this would push at my comfort zone, only made me more aroused. My core pulsed up and down his length. His fingers pinched my nipples and rolled until I was panting, pushing back against him.
That was when he released my breasts, grabbed my hips, and pulled out to the tip. “Don’t move.”
I trembled with want. “I won’t.”
He slammed home and I cried out in pleasured pain. My breasts swung against the cool desktop. He reared back and did it again. And again. Then paused deep inside me, massaging my breasts again.
“How are you doing?”
If he couldn’t tell by the way my body was clenching his cock, I guess I just had to find the words. “More.” Yes, that was probably the best single word response I could have possibly given.
“How much more?”
“Everything you have.”
His breath hitched. His hands returned to my hips.
I held on tight.
His thrusts grew faster. Wilder. I felt him everywhere. The electricity of each impact sent shockwaves out to my fingertips. I had no choice but to cry out. Holding it in wasn’t possible. I didn’t care if anyone could hear me. In fact, it kind of turned me on to think my pleasure was so exquisite it was being heard by someone else.
Maybe it was turning them on, too.
My nipples grazed the desktop over and over. Back and forth. Pleasuring me in a different way than the cock moving inside me. His fingers dug deeper as he pumped even harder, his grunts of pleasure echoing mine.
We hadn’t fucked hard like this in forever and it felt incredibly freeing to let every single doubt, worry, and inhibition go for a few minutes and just give in to my cravings.
“You feel too good. I’m going to come so hard,” he panted, slamming into me and stilling as he did exactly that. I felt every jerk of his cock, a little jealous because my orgasm was so close but so far.
But the minute he was done he put a hand in my hair and made a fist, his other hand reaching down for my clit. He pulled me up a few inches. “Touch yourself,” he said as he made quick circles of my clit. “Touch yourself until you come. I want to hear you.”
Since he was holding me in place I didn’t have to worry about bracing myself. I massaged my breasts several times then found my nipples.
That was all it took. I exploded into a powerful, electrifying orgasm. “I’m coming. Oh god, I’m coming.” I barely got the words out between waves of pleasure. My body bowed under it and Jake released my hair, helping to lower me gently onto the desk. He massaged my ass, pumping lightly as I rode it out, then collapsed.
The world was a blur after that, but I knew Jake had pulled out and cleaned us both up before wrapping me in my favorite fuzzy blanket from home and depositing me in the king-sized bed. I dozed in and out for the rest of the night.
We spent the next day doing pretty much exactly the same combination of things: meeting in unusual places, turning each other on until we couldn’t stand it, then rushing upstairs to fuck like crazy.
It was the best weekend I’d had in years.
Our last breakfast in bed had just been devoured and it was time to shower and change for the drive back. I really didn’t want this to end, but I also missed my kids.
“Thank you for this.”
He was naked and sprawled on the pillows. “I should be thanking you. I haven’t been so thoroughly fucked in ages.”
“So we’ll do it again?”
He sat up, tucking some hair behind my ear. “If this is what helps you relax, then hell yeah. We’ll be doing this again, just like we planned.”
“So next month?”
He laughed. “You already know all the details. Let the dirty text messages and notes begin.”
I think I loved getting back to that more than anything. I bounced my eyebrows. “Can you be Dr. Clooney and I’ll be Nurse Margulies.”
“You seriously still have a thing for ER even after all these years?”
I shrugged. “It was my first love.”
“I’d be hurt if I didn’t know it was like a first crush. Young, weak, and totally not my competition.”
I rolled him onto his back, running a finger down his chest. “Not for a man like you.”
“I think we can work something out for the medical conference in West Palm Beach.”
“Dirty doctor and naughty nurse?”
“As dirty and naughty as you want to be.”
Place: West Palm Beach Blue Resort & Spa
When: The 27th Annual Medical Unity Conference
The Kids: Spending the weekend with their grandparents.
“Oh. My. God!” Jake grunted as my tongue swirled. It was lunchtime and the hotel lobby was filled with doctors, nurses, executives, and . . . lawyers. I ran into the good “doctor” and after some terrible medical banter convinced him to come up to my room.
We barely made it inside the heavy door before I was on my knees unzipping his dress slacks and pulling his erection into my mouth. I never stopped craving the power I felt when I made him come undone and adding role-play to it?
In my hands he was familiar and comforting but in my mind he was a stranger I picked up at a conference. What we were doing was brash and anonymous. Impulsive.
I had his cock at the back of my throat because I wanted it there. No other reason. Not because it was Saturday and we hadn’t had sex all week. Not because we were trying to be quiet. Not because we were going through the motions.
These weekends away were about having no responsibilities other than to find pleasure in each other.
And right now, with his hands fisted in my hair, his pants open just enough for me to gain entrance, I was absolutely finding a great deal of pleasure.
He pulled free, panting but not satisfied. He glanced at his heavy silver watch. “We only have thirty minutes.”
My sex clenched in anticipation. I stood up, still fully clothed and wearing heels. I pressed into him, his erection trapped between us. “Then why did you stop me?” I whispered against his lips.
He kissed me hard, his hands back in my hair.
“Because,” he growled, “I want to be buried inside you when I come.”
Suddenly I was seated on top of the desk, my legs pushed apart as he knelt in front of me. I never bothered with pants on these weekends. It was all skirts all the time. Easy access. And right now as Jake hooked my panties out of the way and danced a finger across my folds I vowed to never wear pants ever again.
He teased me, coaxing me closer and closer to orgasm, his moves nothing new but somehow looking down at him fully clothed made it all seem so urgent. “I can’t wait any longer.”
He grunted, looking wildly around the room. “I need you on top of me. Bed?”
He shimmied his pants down just enough to give me free access to his cock. I dropped my panties on my suitcase and straddled him. His hands tested my breasts, then he reached beneath my blouse and unclasped the front hooks, freeing them. “Yes,” he hissed as his palms made contact with my skin.
As he massaged, the fabric moved along my nipples, making them sensitive and my core wetter. I took him in my hand and guided him right where I wanted him. I didn’t ask for permission. I took what I wanted and what I wanted was to be filled.
Inch by glorious inch he stretched me wide until I was wild with abandon. We moved together, practiced and yet still somehow too frantic to be that graceful.
His needs took over and he gripped my hips, but that wasn’t enough. His hand snaked around and under my hips, taking complete control now. He set the rhythm, thrusting up while pulling me down, the intensity of the impact so much greater. I desperately clutched at the headboard above him to stay upright, rolling my hips to find the friction I needed. My breasts naturally wound up in his face.
So much fabric between us.
He nuzzled anyway.
He hooked a hand over the top of the low collar and used it as a handle, slamming into me from below, over and over.
And over and over.
I pulled my breasts over the top, putting them on display. There was just enough room for my nipples to spring free, the rest still trapped by the constrained fabric.
“Holy fucking shit you are so hot,” Jake moaned.
Since he had such a good handle on my body from my shirt to his arm around my hips, I let go of the headboard and played with my peaks. My sex immediately clenched around his steel plunging inside me, fluttering and squeezing. I threw my head back, my hair dangling down to his legs.
He was using my body and I couldn’t have been happier.
Every thrust stretched me all over again. His girth much more than my natural resting state. The sensation was electric. The pressure of his arm around me and his hand on my shirt, desperately pulling our bodies together gave the illusion of being bound. It cranked the intensity up a notch.
But also having the freedom to pleasure myself?
It was all the best things.
So I relished every second of it. I gave my body to him and got lost in the sensation of being filled, then emptied, only to feel the rush of him entering me with even more force all over again. I circled my soft pink peaks, feeling them harden by my own touch. The edge of the shirt fabric pressed along their edges and I used my fingernails to scrape the tips, pressing them against the fabric line.
My hips jerked in time with my fingers.
When I couldn’t hold out any longer I took them between my index finger and thumb, pinching lightly at first, enjoying each zing that shot from my fingers to my sex, moaning as my muscles responded to the play by squeezing his cock tight inside me.
“Oh god,” he whispered, clearly nearing the edge of his sanity.
This was the part I lived for. The power that came from pleasuring Jake in ways he didn’t expect, knowing that I was the one blowing his mind, all while my own body hummed.
He suddenly stopped, his cock buried so deep inside me I opened my mouth, gasping for air in reaction to the impact. That was when I realized my whole body was trembling, my skin slick with sweat and so hot it felt like it was burning. My sex was swollen and desperate for release. His cock throbbed inside me. I could feel the changes, the kicks as it sought out that final release.
My inner muscles spasmed without pattern. I didn’t stop playing with my nipples. “I’m so close,” I gasped, rolling them hard then up the very tips where they were still very sensitive.
“Look at me,” he growled.
Oh god. Slowly I raised my head up and when our eyes locked? Oh god didn’t begin to cover it. I could feel his gaze everywhere, as if his hands had somehow moved beneath my skin and were now touching me everywhere.
“Catch your breath.”
I took several deep breaths, rolling the tips of my nipples between the soft pads of my fingers one last time, teasing until I could feel the tip of my clit burn and pulse. Then released them.
“Do not look away.”
Oh god. . . I nodded and braced myself.
He licked his lips. He took his damn time. Then . . . he raised me up, using his arm around my hips. His fingers tightened around my shirt. The hot air of his heavy breaths hit my sensitized nipples. He waited. My empty sex clenched, seeking and not finding the cock it wanted. The throb grew more painful the longer he left me empty. Blood rushed to fill the space.
Then ever so slowly he eased me down. I sank onto his cock. Except this time there was less room for his girth. I was oh so swollen and he had to wait for my body to expand again, to somehow find a way to let him back in. The stretch was almost as shocking as when he first filled me.
With his eyes still locked on mine he leaned forward and licked my nipple with the tip of his tongue, then he opened his mouth wide and enveloped the entire thing in his warm mouth, applying soft, maddening suction.
My inner muscles clamped down on what he’d managed to slide back inside me and we both let out a moan. He didn’t release my nipple as he raised me back up an inch, then lowered me even further. I slid down, down, down his length all while he sucked and swirled his tongue.
I knew what came next and I craved it every bit as much as I worried if could handle it.
He switched to my other nipple, giving it the same careful attention he had the last one. He opened his mouth wide, he sucked softly, he teased with a flat tongue.
Every muscle in my body tensed in need and anticipation. I was a spring wound tight and there was only one way Jake would release it. Up I went again, his arm holding me high, his other wrapped so tight around my shirt his knuckles had turned white. He broke the connection with my breast with a pop.
And slammed me down onto his cock as he surged up with his hips, coming off the bed completely. The impact took my breath away. I gasped for air as every cell in my body vibrated. My orgasm ripped through me. The pleasure of his steel rod slamming up and inside me over and over, spreading me wide even as my muscles clamped down around him, was brilliant in its pain.
I came that hard.
He hammered into me, forcing me to come over and over again, refusing to let up. I dug my nails into his shoulders. My thighs squeezed together. I couldn’t breathe but I also couldn’t stop.
Not under the relentless thrusts of my weekend lover. He grunted loudly, every muscle in his body straining to keep going. His eyes grew dark and wild as he watched me come. His jaw ticked. His neck and shoulder muscles tensed.
And then finally he couldn’t hold back any longer.
He cried out, throwing his head back in pleasure that looked every bit as painful as my own.
* * *
“Are you seriously making me watch this?” Jake groaned.
We had room service everywhere, were freshly showered, and watching ER. “Yes. I love George Clooney. It was my favorite series when I was just a budding adult.”
He chuckled. “It was a good show. I just didn’t expect to be watching it a decade later on a sexcatation weekend with my wife.”
“I’m not your wife. I’m the naughty nurse you picked up in the lobby.” I bounced my eyebrows. Even though we had fun with our game it was enough for the weekend and it was kind of nice to just be us again.
“It’s too bad you’re not my wife. I happen to know how much she loves a good foot rub.” His fingers danced along to top of my foot.
“Well if a foot run is on the line . . . ” I wiggled my toes. “I suppose I could be your wife again.”
“Good.” He kissed the inside of my arch. “I kind of missed her.”
“Is this too much?” I expected him to reach his limit at some point.
“Naw. But maybe next month we can do something a little different?” There was a sparkle to his eyes I really quite liked.
“Sure. You can plan the whole thing if you like.”
“Oh darlin’. You know what you do to me when you say things like that.”
I did. Which is why I said it. “So what are we going to do?”
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “All you need to know is that it will be very relaxing.”