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Endless Days & White Knights Ch. 01

By: BelleGailmar



The secret about Caroline Monroe's secrets was that everyone at Azura Holdings knew the truth behind them. In spite of Caroline's make out session with a college intern (Secret #1), her in-office orgasm (Secret #2) and her not-so-hush-hush affair with Dan from the San Francisco office (Secret #3) -- the truth was Caroline Monroe was not a very sexual person.

Caroline had not yet reached her thirty-third birthday and, on a single hand, she could count the number of times she'd had sex since her thirtieth. And she often did this (recount her recent sexual encounters with one hand) when she was giving herself pleasure with the other. But those fantasies never went to the truth behind Secret #1 (making out with Jeremy the drunken college intern in the TGI Friday's parking lot before he vomited on her smart, new Ann Taylor shawl-collar jacket and matching skirt) or Secret #2 (sneaking into a conference room to rub herself silly because the smell of microwave popcorn aroused her, just as the entire Accounts Payable walked in) or Secret #3 (faking an affair with Dan from San Fran so he and his wife would have a reason to file for divorce).

"Caroline—" The baritone interruption to Caroline Monroe's daydreaming belonged to Albert, her boss' boss. "I'm going to need that cash flow analysis today," he said as his eyes quickly darted under her desk -- from the strap of her black two-inch platform heels -- and then back up, to the opening at the neck of her blouse. 

"But you asked for it tomorrow afternoon," Caroline protested. 

Albert licked his dry lips and Caroline tried not to read into it. His baldhead and goatee made it difficult for Caroline to figure out how old he was. He worked out, she could tell, but she took her eyes off his forearms. 

"I need it today. I have an investor meeting on Friday and need tomorrow to review the numbers," he said with a wink. Again, Caroline tried not to read into that. 

"If I work late, it's going to be overtime," she said.

"If you were in a management position under me, I wouldn't need to worry about that." She couldn't help reading into that. He walked out. 

Caroline imagined what a management position under Albert would look like. She checked the clock. 5:20. It was going to be a long day. She double-clicked on the files she needed to get the analysis done. There was a lot of work ahead of her. "Endless," she mumbled to herself just as Peter, her tired boss, lumbered by. 

"G'night," he said without looking in. 

Caroline buckled down. For what seemed like hours (because it was), she crunched numbers. She noticed the cash flow for the past twelve months looked great, but if you did a three-month rolling average of the past quarter -- the numbers were trending downward. "Interesting," she thought and then reprimanded herself for thinking that little fact was interesting.

Her office did not have a window, but she could sense how dark it was getting. Every muscle in her body felt tight. She'd been hunched over her keyboard for too many hours, craning her neck to read the small numbers on her screen. She stopped to rub her eyes when a deep voice at the door spoke.

"Excuse me," he asked, "I'm supposed to be in a meeting with Albert Robinson. Can you tell me how to find him?"

The man was tall, with broad shoulders and an electric smile. His dark eyes pierced her. 

"It's left," Caroline pointed from her chair, "then right... um, and around a corner. Here, let me show you." She got up and walked to him. She barely came to his chin. He stayed at the doorjamb when she passed, so that she brushed him to get by. There was a subtle hint of cologne— or was it an essential oil? Sandalwood? As she brushed him, she looked up and their eyes met. A tingle rippled through her. "Uh-oh," she thought and hoped her expression didn't betray her inner tingle.

She led him through the halls of Azura Holdings. When she pointed down a corridor, toward Albert's office, he touched her elbow and thanked her. Another tingle. He smiled and walked away. His black suit cut the perfect silhouette as it glided out of sight.

Back in her office, Caroline couldn't concentrate on the work in front of her. The building was almost empty. She let herself drift. Who was he? Why did he smell so damn good? Why did he have to touch her on the elbow? She leaned back in her chair and imagined what it would feel like to have his long arms wrapped around her.

She closed her eyes and turned her back to the door. Her hands started on the inside of her knees. She pressed her head against the back of her chair. His warm, intense smile... The firm, gentle touch of his hand... 

Her hands slid up the inside of her thighs, pushing the hem of her skirt higher. She could feel her breasts starting to ache and the moisture between her legs, as she adjusted herself in the chair.

"Excuse me," the voice came from the office door behind her.

Caroline spun her chair, startled. It was him. She pulled her hands out of her lap. 

"Just wanted to thank you for helping me," he said. His voice filled Caroline's office. 

"You're welcome," she said, embarrassed by the thoughts she'd been having just seconds before. "You're meeting's over?"

"You look tired," he commented.

"Long day," she shrugged.

"Here, let me..." he said. He didn't finish saying what she should let him do. Instead, he was suddenly next to Caroline. He used a gentle strength that surprised Caroline to turn her so that she was sideways in her chair. Her legs spun and dangled off the edge. The hem of her skirt, already hiked up, slid even higher up -- revealing more thigh than a lady should. 

His hands dwarfed her shoulders and she could feel the power in his tender touch. He dug his thumbs into the base of her neck and began to massage her shoulders.

"You don't have to..." she objected softly.

He either knew she didn't mean it or didn't care. He continued to work through the knots in her muscles. 

"Relax," he whispered. 

Caroline fell under his spell. When his hands traveled to her temples, she moaned and leaned back. She could feel her back against his legs. The heat of their bodies intensified. Her head rested against his belt buckle. He massaged her jaw, working through the tightness. She melted. Sliding down in her seat, her skirt pushed itself up past her panties. She knew he could see the crotch of her panty hose but she didn't care. Because when she slid down, her head had dragged from his belt buckle to the warmth of his groin. He was hard. She could feel it against her neck. Caroline let out another moan.

She moved her hands to her own crotch and could feel her wetness. She pressed the heel of her hand against her pubic bone. She groaned and squirmed in the chair.

His hands traveled from her jaw, down the soft contours of her neck and then slid under her blouse. His fingers clutched her breasts on top of her bra.

"Oh my god," she whispered. She turned her head and pressed it against his groin. She could feel the hard pulse through his black pants. She could feel it against her face, from her jaw to her temple. He gently squeezed her breasts. 

She turned in her chair and looked up at him. His confident intensity bore down on her. He brushed the dark bangs away from her eyes. She took his zipper and pulled it down. The heat made her head spin. She took him into her hands. He throbbed in her grip. She slid her hand up and down him then pulled it into her mouth. The salt of his sweat and his heat filled her.

Caroline slid forward in her chair, sliding her crotch into the man's leg. He leaned his knee into her and worked it into small circles. She moaned and felt her lips vibrate along his taut skin. He grabbed her dark hair and let out a slow "Mmmm." His knee drove deeper into her, finding her clitoris. She pumped him with her hand, her saliva lubricating the motion. She tasted his sweat and felt her fist push against her lips as she pumped with her tight hand.

His knee drove so hard into her that she thought she would go mad. The electricity shot down from her between her legs and then up into her throat. She felt her nipples grow hard. Before she realized it, she was coming. She pulled her mouth off him, squeezing with her hand as tightly as she could, and gasped. Her legs locked his knee against her. Then she wrapped her arms around him, grabbing him from behind and pulling him into her. Her body lurched against him, as wave after wave exploded through her.

She finally collapsed, leaning into him.

"All of this from his knee," she thought. His open pants rested against her face and she pulled them down and began kissing every exposed inch of skin.

He took her shoulders and lifted her from her chair. He put her on her desk, and then laid her on top of the papers strewn across it. He slowly unbuttoned her blouse, and then unsnapped her bra from between her breasts. He blew softly on her torso, cooling her. Her nipples grew even harder in the open air, against his breath. She arched her back, wanting him to taste her. Instead, he pushed up her skirt so that it was nothing more than a band of cloth around her waist. He pulled her panty hose and panties down and then off. The lower half of her body, naked and exposed, rested on her desk. Her legs draped over it. 

He kissed the instep of her foot, then her calf, and then her inner thigh. His lips disappeared between her legs as he laid several gentle kisses on her. He licked his way up her belly. Then gave each nipple a soft bite. She writhed in his shadow.

He pulled his pants to his knees. He still wore his shirt and suit jacket. His tie touched her as he knelt to kiss her neck. He stood over her and reached into his jacket pocket. He gave Caroline a slight smile as he pulled a condom out and opened the packet. She started to breathe hard.

He put the condom on -- unrolling it in a single stroke. He pulled Caroline to the edge of her desk. She could feel how wet she was. He entered her in a single thrust. 

The man started slowly, driving her crazy, and then pumped harder and harder until she screamed in ecstasy. She came and came and she finally felt him explode inside her. "Oh god," she moaned and wrapped her arms around him. He continued pumping, then slowed, then stopped. Caroline sighed with a final breath of total release.

She felt his weight on her, so warm and protecting and she fell off to sleep. Somewhere in the darkness, a dream about a cash flow and a three-month rolling average jarred her awake.

She found she was under his suit jacket. She was still mostly undressed -- panty hose and panties on the floor, skirt in a band around her waist, blouse and bra open. Her office door was still open. She quickly shut it and put her clothes back on. 

Afterward she waited, lost in a dizzy spell, trying to recall all the details and how they came to happen.

She waited but he didn't return. While she waited, she finished up the cash flow analysis and sent it to Albert. She was sure he was long gone and hoped that she would not get in trouble for sending it so late. After she sent it, she fidgeted and wondered where the man was. She walked the dark and empty halls looking for any sign of him. She knocked on the men's room door. No answer. Back in her office, she cradled his jacket and could still feel his warmth.

Nine hours later, Caroline was back at her desk. She'd had one of the most solid night's sleep she'd had in a long time. But even the deep sleep, shower and two cups of Starbucks couldn't dull the sensation from last night. The sight of her desk had new meaning to her. She imagined the nameless man hovering over her even now.

Caroline hurried to Albert's office to ask Albert's assistant about the man at the meeting yesterday evening. Jessica -- Albert's assistant -- told Caroline there had been no meeting. Albert had gone home at five-thirty.

Caroline returned to her office to find a large gift box on her desk. It was wrapped in shimmering satin and had a card under its silk bow.

So she wasn't dreaming, she realized.

The card read, "You are amazing. Meet me at 7:30 in Washington Park. Wear this. Only this. I'll find you."

She opened the box and pulled out its contents. Digging through the tissue paper, she wondered if he hadn't forgot to pack a few items.

More coming... 

Endless Days & White Knights Ch. 02



The rest of the day Caroline spent answering Albert's questions. Peter asked her for some talking points because he was going to have to sit in on Albert's meeting the next day. Caroline answered Albert's questions and put together the information for Peter -- but was distracted by the gift box hidden under her desk. 

At seven-thirty, she entered Washington Park near the downtown Hilton. It was mild for an October day, thank goodness. The boots he had given her fit perfectly. They had stiletto heels that she had to grow used to walking in, but they snugly laced all the way over her calf and kept her legs warm. She looked down at her feet and thought about how sexy the boots were. The rest of the outfit was just as sexy, but not nearly as warm. He'd included a knee-length brown leather coat that she held tightly against her body as she walked along a pond. She meandered, wondering when he would show himself. As she walked, she could feel what she wore under her new leather overcoat and was amazed to realize that she was slowly getting aroused.

At a pedestrian tunnel that passed under one of the park's main roads, she saw him. He was silhouetted in the fading light at the other end. He wore a long coat that fluttered in the wind. They slowly approached each other.

At the center of the tunnel, they stopped. He wore a dark turtleneck and jeans. His coat hung open and she could see his body, his chest moving slowly as he breathed.

"You are beautiful," he said, and then kissed her softly on her trembling lips. She realized it was the first time their lips had touched.

"Who are..." she started but didn't get to the whole question.

The passion erupted as he wrapped his arms around her. They kissed each other in silence— Caroline couldn't tell how long. He slid his hand under coat and felt the bare flesh of her stomach. He pulled back and hinted at a smile. 

"Thank you," he whispered.

He backed her against the wall of the tunnel and opened her coat. The stockings she wore clung to her thighs and he started by caressing them softly with his fingertips. She could feel herself getting hot— no easy task in the cool air. He pulled her coat off her shoulders and admired her body. The jacket, boots and stockings were all that were included in the box. He smiled, "You are beautiful," he repeated. Looking her squarely in the eyes.

He kissed her neck, then her shoulders. The traffic overhead made the only sounds. He held her breasts in his hands and kissed them over and over. Her body tingled. She rubbed her bare body against the stone tunnel wall. He knelt and kissed her stomach, then her hips. His lips traveled to her pubic hair -- where he began to kiss more deeply.

His tongue slid from his lips and split her open. She was already wet when his tongue disappeared inside her. 

He licked and kissed her. One hand held her breasts and another went up and behind her, between her legs. As his tongue penetrated her, his fingers explored her cheeks... then the crack where they met... and then the hole back there... "Oh my god," she moaned. No one had ever touched her there before. 

Caroline began to come. She lifted a leg over his shoulder. He pressed his face deeper into her. The bridge of his nose ground against her clitoris as his tongue danced inside her. She grabbed his head, shoving it harder and harder into her. She could barely stand. She felt faint as the orgasm finally passed.

He licked his way up her body, finally ending with a kiss on her lips. Closing her coat, he said, "I'll see you later tonight."

He dropped something into her coat pocket and walked away.

Caroline was still breathing hard, still reeling from her orgasm. She blinked to try to focus. The man was gone. She walked out of the tunnel. Under a streetlight, she pulled the key that he had dropped into her pocket. It was for a room in the Hilton.

A half hour later, she exited the Hilton elevator at the top floor. She had needed the key to access the floor. She found the room -- double doors -- and knocked. No one answered. She let herself in with the key.

The suite was magnificent. She walked through the rooms, touching the overstuffed furniture with their soft fabrics. A bottle of champagne was chilling on ice. Caroline helped herself to a glass and stood in front of the window, staring out at the night. Washington Park loomed in the darkness below her. Sparkling lights framed it on all sides. Somewhere in the darkness was the tunnel where she had been eaten to full ecstasy. She sipped champagne and unbuttoned her coat. It fell open, exposing her breasts and the rest of her body to the darkness outside.

After her second glass, she wondered when he would arrive. She walked into the bedroom, keeping it dark. The lights in the living room spilled in and that was enough. She draped her leather coat on a side chair and lowered herself on top of the bed. She looked down at her body. The boots and the stockings made her legs seem so long and gorgeous. She caressed the silk stockings and leaned back, burying her light head in the pillows.

The champagne made her fly. Her hands traveled over her breasts and into her pubic hair. She pinched her nipples and pressed down on her clitoris. The beautiful room spun around her while she touched herself. She came quietly in the bed.

Depleted, fully sated, she dozed off on top of the covers.

Caroline didn't hear a door open, but woke up knowing she wasn't alone. She began to stir, but was silenced by a quiet, "Shhh."

A mouth kissed her inner thighs and then licked her deeply between her legs. 

Caroline spread her legs to welcome the mouth. Fingers massaged her clitoris and the tongue deftly licked her. Caroline began moaning and lifted her legs to wrap around her lover's back. With her legs in the air, her lover's fingers grabbed her ass and pushed on the hole they found there. Caroline thought she would explode.

The mouth left began traveling up her belly and ribs, dragging its tongue along the way. When it stopped to suck on her nipples, Caroline felt the warm body pressed against hers. Still tingling and near orgasm, she only distantly realized the warm body leaning into hers was naked. Then she realized it was soft and when she touched it, she knew it was another woman.

Caroline opened her eyes to find a young blond woman sucking on her breasts. The woman's thigh was wedged between Caroline's legs, rubbing against her. The woman was completely naked, her large breasts brushed against Caroline's stomach. The woman looked up at Caroline and smiled. She kissed her way to Caroline's ear and slid her tongue into it. Caroline squealed.

"Turn over," she told Caroline.

Caroline complied. The woman began to kiss her shoulders, then the small of her back, then her ass. She pushed a pillow under Caroline's waist. The woman lay on top of her. Caroline had never felt another woman's naked body before. The woman worked her hands under Caroline and massaged her breasts while kissing the nape of Caroline's neck. Caroline could feel the woman rubbing her pubic bone against her ass. The woman then dragged her fingernails down the Caroline's back and followed her fingernails with a series of wet kisses. 

The fingernails found her ass and the woman's mouth kept after them. With Caroline's ass perched in the air, the woman kissed her between her cheeks. Her tongue found the hole back there and she licked it and licked it until Caroline could hardly stand it any longer. The woman's fingers fondled Caroline between her legs and began to massage her clitoris. The woman's tongue then entered her from behind. 

Caroline could feel the strange, sexy woman's tongue entering her from behind and her fingers entering her in the front. No more than a few seconds passed before Caroline began screaming with pleasure. Her face was turned to one side as she moaned and moaned. She thought the orgasm would send her through the headboard. The woman wouldn't stop. He tongue penetrated her deeper and deeper. Caroline could bear the pleasure no more and forced herself away from the woman's mouth. She rolled onto her back with a gasp. Her entire body shook. It felt like a supernova between her legs. Her breasts heaved.

"You have me so turned on," the woman told her. The woman stood and clutched her own breasts, pinching her nipples. "Mmmm." She went to the chair with Caroline's coat draped on it. She sat on the coat and propped her feet on the edge of the bed. She was facing Caroline, so that Caroline could see straight between her legs. The light from the living area spilled in and provided just enough to let Caroline see her. The woman dragged her fingers down from her knees into her pubic hair— shaved to a thin rectangular strip. The woman moaned. 

A shadow cut across Caroline's view. She turned to see the man standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He wore only a bathrobe and sipped from a glass of champagne. As he came into the bedroom, his robe fell open. Caroline could see he was fully erect and already wearing a condom. 

The woman began rubbing her own clitoris and digging her feet hard against the bed.

The man sat next to Caroline and stroked her hair. 

"How was she?" he asked.

"Incredible," Caroline said. "I don't know how much more I have." She touched his chest and pushed his robe off. She realized it was the first time she'd seen him naked. She caressed his skin, feeling his chest and stomach and legs. He kissed her forehead, and then lowered his mouth to hers. She leaned into him, grabbing his erection. He pulled her body into his, her breasts pressing to his bare chest. He kissed her neck and shoulders and breasts, taking them into his mouth. She realized she still hadn't come down from her last orgasm. The thought of the woman's tongue inside her made her shudder. 

The man laid her on the bed and lowered himself on top of her. He entered her wetness with a gentle shove. She moaned, not believing she was actually wanting more.

"Yes," she said, "fuck me."

He did— with long, deep strokes. His face was buried in her hair. His hands squeezed her ass. He grunted with each push and she became wetter and wetter. She could feel the orgasm welling inside of her. Seconds before she knew she was going to come, the woman masturbating began to moan, "Yes! Yes! Oh my god!"

Caroline looked over. The woman's massaged herself violently. Two fingers disappeared deep between her legs. The woman's back arched, her nipples pointed at the ceiling. Her mouth hung open, her face lost in its own fantasy. The sight of her coming sent Caroline over the edge and she began coming, too. They moaned together. Caroline reached over and grabbed the woman's ankle. The woman, with her fingers still in her, got up and fell next to Caroline. They continued to come, side-by-side. They man fucked Caroline madly, sending waves of orgasm through her.

Finally the moaning faded and only the sound of the man's flesh slapping against Caroline remained. The woman rolled over and kissed Caroline on the lips. "Thank you," she said.

She walked out of the room, closing the door. In the dark, Caroline clutched the man's ass. "Come," she told him. And he did— exploding inside with throbbing burst. He groaned and pumped and finally collapsed on her.

He kissed her hair and her cheek and her lips. She stroked his hair and touched his face. "I want to know everything about you," she whispered.

His response, "Tomorrow..." was the last thing she heard before she drifted to sleep.

In the morning, she woke up by herself. On the dresser was a vase with dozen red roses. The card read, "See you soon."

Caroline left the Hilton in her new brown leather jacket. At home, she thought about masturbating in the shower, but didn't have the energy. 

She was ten minutes late as she wandered into her office. She found Albert standing at her desk. "Where's Peter?" he asked. 

Caroline looked around— not sure how to answer. Still feeling drained. 

"He's not in," Albert complained. 

"I don't know," Caroline tried.

"He's not here and I need a finance manager in a meeting— ten minutes ago," Albert demanded. "So, this morning, you're my finance manager."

Albert led Caroline into a mahogany conference room. 

Sitting at the long, polished table, the man. He sat at the table alone in a charcoal gray suit and a perfectly knotted silk tie. Caroline noticed his subtle smile. 

Albert shuffled through some papers and mumbled, "This is Mr. St. Pierre." Caroline assumed he was speaking to her. 

"Mr. St. Pierre," Caroline said, "it's nice to, um, meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," he said -- drilling his gaze into her, "I assure you."

....

More coming...



Endless Days & White Knights Ch. 03



Chapter Three -- "Acquired Assets" 

Caroline set her laptop on the conference table. Then set herself as far from Mr. St. Pierre as she possibly could. Her head spun and her vision blurred. She rubbed her eyes. "What is HE doing here?" she asked herself. Caroline buried herself in her laptop. She pulled up the cash flow analysis and could hear Albert sucking up to their guest.

"...and we value your continued investment and leadership among our investors," Albert's voice was tinged with desperation -- Caroline could tell. Caroline glanced up from her laptop to see Mr. St. Pierre grin.

It was the same grin he wore before Caroline knew him as Mr. St. Pierre. Just last night, when he was simply "the man" who melted her so completely. At her desk -- and then on it. In the tunnel. And in the hotel suite. Caroline drifted for a moment. 

Caroline squeezed her knees together and moved her thighs up and down. The ache between her legs worked its way to her throat and she let out a soft moan. She snapped back to the conference room when she heard Albert say, "I'll be right back." She crossed her legs under the table.

She returned to her laptop but knew that she and Mr. St. Pierre were alone in the conference room. 

After a few seconds, St. Pierre's voice floated toward her, "You're going to have to look up at some point." 

Caroline did not look up. She closed her eyes, hoping this would somehow all go away, but instead she remembered his strong hands on her shoulders -- and the way his belt buckle felt when she leaned her head against him. And the first time she felt how hard he had become, when she slid her head down onto his groin. 

She popped her eyes open. And found him gazing at her -- was he reading her mind? "Now that's better, Caroline," he said. Confidence emanated from him like the heat from a bonfire. 

"Don't think that you have some kind of advantage here just because we... did things, things that I don't normally do," she warned him. She hoped her voice didn't sound as uncertain and lost as she felt. 

He stood. Caroline was afraid -- and hopeful -- that he would walk toward her, but instead -- he paced in self-assured steps on his side of the table. "Is that all that was to you? Just things we did? I was a visitor looking for directions and a found an angel willing to help me. An angel I was powerless to resist. You are that angel, Caroline," he finished by staring deep into her -- with her name hanging on his lips.

"Well, Mr. St. Pierre," she finally replied, "since we're both here now, I suggest we focus on the business at hand."

"Please call me Carver," he said -- taking his seat.

"Carver St. Pierre?" Caroline couldn't help but chuckle. "That sounds like a made up name."

"Aren't all our names made up?" he tossed back to her.

"Wait, are you saying that Carver St. Pierre isn't your real name?" she asked.

"As you suggested, let's focus on the business at hand," he said. He took out his phone and tapped the screen with his thumb. "I've just sent you a link to a file I'd like to review."

On cue, the email arrived on Caroline's laptop. She clicked on the link and instead of a balance sheet or a cash flow analysis, she found herself staring at a video. The images were dark, but clear. Two naked women in a hotel suite. It was Caroline and the woman from last night. The woman's face was buried between Caroline's legs. 

Caroline could feel her cheeks redden and her panties moisten. Anger, embarrassment, and a desire to touch herself boiled inside her. That's what last night was all about? That's why he ravaged her? To embarrass her here where she worked? To blackmail her with a sex video? There was so much she wanted to shout at him, but instead she took a breath. "There's nothing on this video that's illegal or even anyone's business," she tried. 

"True enough," Carver said. "But making that video public would be enough to prevent certain events from unfolding."

"What events?" she demanded as she heard herself moan on her laptop screen.

"I get what I want, Caroline, always," he smiled and nodded toward the conference room door. "Remember that. It's kind of my catch phrase."

Voices came from the hall. Caroline scrambled to mute her laptop's speakers and her video moaning stopped just in time.

Albert went to get the big gun, Caroline saw. Leading him by three steps was Elizabeth Racine, one of the founding partners of Azura Holdings and still an owner of twenty percent of the company. Caroline had never met her and had only seen her picture on the Azura website.

Elizabeth was in her early fifties but carried herself like a woman decades younger. She wore a sleeveless leopard print dress that showed off her shoulders and arms, the chiseled results of her six-day-a-week Pilate's regime. The dress was clearly custom-tailored to within the millimeter of her tight figure and her long strides exposed calves an Olympic sprinter would envy. 

Caroline suddenly felt invisible, which is exactly how most women felt when Elizabeth Racine walked into a room.

"Carver," Elizabeth purred across the table. "Why are you bothering us here today? We're busy making your investment pay off."

Carver St. Pierre, if that was his real name, seemed to be immune to her charisma. "That's not how I see it, Liz." He leaned back in his chair. "If you take a close look at Azura's cash flow -- your most recent three-month rolling average -- you'll see some troubling trends developing." 

Carver used the instant in which Elizabeth and Albert gave each other a worried glance to wink at Caroline. Albert tried to respond to Carver's cash flow claim but all that came out was unintelligible mumbling. Elizabeth fared slightly better with -- "I'm not sure where you got your data, but let me do some research and get back to you..." 

Carver tried to downplay how smug he was feeling as he watched Elizabeth and Albert squirm. 

Caroline watched him lean farther back in his chair. She glanced down at the frozen image on her laptop screen. Caroline on her stomach, with the woman's face hovering over her arched and naked backside. Caroline knew her cash flow analysis had been on her desk when he fucked her there. She had drifted to sleep and he disappeared. That's the game he was playing? That's why he videotaped her and the woman? 

And the anger finally exploded out of her. 

"Mr. St. Pierre's analysis of Azura's cash flow only tells half the story," Caroline interjected. All heads swiveled to her. "I, ironically, arrived at the same initial conclusion as I studied the cash flow last night. Then I came... to look at the numbers a little more closely. The negative cash flow trends are due to a one-time charge that Azura is paying to secure the global rights to an Asian consumer brand. That one-time charge, while having a short term negative impact, will ensure double digit revenue growth for the next five years." 

She stopped to see the relief on Albert's face and the reptilian smile on Elizabeth's. Carver cocked an eyebrow at her -- and looked unsure for the first time since Caroline had met him.

Caroline continued, "It's as if Mr. Carver got his hands on an unfinished cash flow analysis but didn't wait around for the finished product."

Elizabeth spun to Carver. "Your move, young man," she said to him flatly.

"Interesting," was what he managed to say. "I'm clearly going to reevaluate my strategy. But don't think you've won anything here today. Remember this --" 

Caroline cut him off, "Mr. St. Pierre gets what he wants. Always. At least that's his catch phrase."

Carver squinted -- and appeared to wonder if he had misjudged her. He glided out of the conference room. Albert took a step to follow, but stayed with Elizabeth -- who was sizing Caroline up.

"Caroline Monroe. Financial analyst. Azura employee for three years. Never promoted." Elizabeth sounded like she was reciting a recipe. Then she added, "Welcome to my senior leadership team." 

She was gone before Caroline could respond.

That night, Caroline parked her eight-year-old Tercel in her apartment building's 'tenant only' parking and pushed into the linoleum and fluorescent lobby. The rest of her day at work had been spent double and triple checking her cash flow assumptions. A half hour before she left, a raven-haired woman in her early twenties -- her wide hips stretching the seams of her nylon skirt -- found Caroline hunched over her keyboard. 

"Ms. Monroe, I'm Vanessa, your assistant," Vanessa announced. 

"I have an assistant?" Caroline asked. 

"You do as of Monday morning," Vanessa told her. She took Caroline to her new office -- many floors higher than where she currently sat. "Caroline Monroe" was already stenciled on the placard outside the frosted glass door. 

"That was fast," Caroline noted.

"Those things go up and down faster than a hooker's fist giving a five dollar handjob," Vanessa said matter-of-factly. She showed Caroline her new desk and view of downtown. "See you Monday morning," Vanessa said as she grabbed her knockoff Versace handbag and click-clacked her chunky red patent leather heels toward the elevators. 

Caroline soaked it all in. Twenty-four hours earlier, she was crunching numbers in a windowless office. Now, she felt like she could see forever out of her floor-to-ceiling tempered glass. 

In the linoleum and fluorescent lobby of her apartment building, she pulled the bills and junk mail from her mailbox. She turned and walked straight into Zack.

Zack... He of the heartfelt smile and wounded eyes. Mid-thirties. Rides his mountain bike to work. They'd been bumping into each other in the lobby for almost a year. Six months ago he suggested that they grab a cup of coffee sometime and she agreed. But nothing ever came of it. 

"Hey," he said. His smile always went straight to her heart and rested there -- it would take awhile for the memory to dissolve. 

"Sorry," she said -- for almost bumping into him, but realized she didn't say why she was sorry. And he slid by to check his mail. But the elevator door closed and she wasn't sure how much Zack heard. He must've started seeing someone else, Caroline mused.

She meandered through her one-bedroom apartment, which looked like an Ikea showroom had mated with a Target home furnishings section. Her panty hose, blouse and bra lay in a pile on her bed and she plopped on her couch in her workday skirt and a gray hoodie. She was resigned to spending her Friday evening with her laptop and a bottle of sauvignon blanc. She opened the laptop and started perusing spreadsheets. 

After one glass of wine, she couldn't resist finding the video that Carver had sent her. The link was embedded in his email -- carve@gu2c.aw. She managed to watch it once (it was only a three minute clip and ended before Carver entered the suite) without touching herself. The clip ended just as the woman slid her tongue into Caroline from behind.

Caroline hit 'replay' and started her second viewing with her second glass of sauvignon blanc. By the time the woman in the video nibbled on Caroline's nipples, Caroline realized her hands were under her laptop.

"I got a huge promotion today and I haven't told a soul," she complained to her third glass. That's when she realized that Zack's smile hadn't fully dissolved yet. Her third glass was very encouraging and convinced her that telling Zack was the right thing to do.

In the hall, she wobbled. "Maybe I'm a little more buzzed that I thought," she considered. But didn't let that stop her from pushing into the stairwell. He lived on the floor below. 

Caroline carefully maneuvered down the stairs -- rehearsing what she'd say when he peeked through his peephole. Before she found the stairwell door, she heard sharp footsteps. She snapped out of her drunken stupor when she saw a woman a half flight below her.

Not A woman, but THE woman. The woman from the video on her laptop. The woman from the hotel suite last night. Caroline sobered up. "What..." she muttered.

They stared at each other for an instant. Caroline was sure it was her. The woman's look of surprise matched her own. And when the woman bolted down the stairs, Caroline took off after her. 

Caroline could hear the woman's hurried footsteps and the door below opening. By the time Caroline reached it, it had slammed shut. She pushed it open and found herself in the parking garage. The woman ran out of the garage. Caroline raced after her.

She reached the night air and felt the cold. She was in her skirt and hoodie. She managed to slide on her Ugg's because she had wanted to look carefree but stylish to Zack. 

The woman -- in heels, skin-tight white jeans and snug waist-cut down jacket -- was almost a block away. She looked back and saw Caroline coming after her.

"Wait!" Caroline tried. "I just want to ask --" But the woman took off faster than before.

Caroline plodded down the dark street in her Uggs. The woman turned down an alley and by the time Caroline reached it, the woman was gone. "She's fast in those heels," Caroline thought. Caroline jogged down the alley until she reached the next cross street. A dog barked, which made Caroline jump. She caught her breath and decided to give up. She looked back down the alley and couldn't believe she had just run down it. "I must be drunker'n I thought," she said out loud. There was no way she was going to go back that way. Too dark. Too frightening. 

She tried to figure out the most well-lit way back to her apartment, when she saw -- across the street and almost a block away -- the woman darting into a motel Caroline had barely known was there.

A few seconds later, Caroline was at the motel. Most of the rooms were dark. Only a few lonely cars dotted the parking lot. Caroline spotted a room's light flicker. She snuck to the door. It was ajar. Caroline slid to the window. The only light in the room spilled from the bathroom, but -- through a thin gap in the curtains -- Caroline could see her. 

The woman faced a mirror against the back of the room and pulled off her down jacket, revealing a lace tanktop. The mirror reflected the woman's very full breasts, which the lace tanktop could barely contain. Caroline remembered feeling those breasts dragging across her bare stomach. The woman in the motel room continued undressing. She stepped out of her heels and pealed her white jeans off. Her panties curved high up her ass. The woman pinched her nipples through the lace tanktop as she stared at her body in the mirror. 

Caroline slid back to the door. She knew the woman was distracted and hoped she would not notice the door open. Caroline snuck into the motel room. The woman was just feet away -- lost in reverie as her hands traveled under the lace tank. Caroline could see the ecstasy in the woman's reflection. Caroline turned quietly to close the motel room door. And when she did -- 

She found a man standing behind it. He was a head taller than her and wore a dark suit and tie. Before Caroline could scream, he lunged. He covered her mouth and threw her on the bed. She flew like a ragdoll. When she tried to push him away, she could feel his solid, thick muscles under his suit jacket. He pushed her flat against the bed with the force of a single hand. He planted his hand on her chest. His palm pressed against her bare chest, between her breasts. The more she struggled, the more his hand slid down her torso -- pulling her hoodie zipper open along the way. He used his free hand to rip his belt off. Caroline gasped. She glanced at the man's suit pants, expecting that he would rip them away, too. Instead, he used the belt to lash her right wrist to the bedpost. 

"No!" Caroline cried.

She used her free hand to reach for the belt, but the man pulled her away from it. He tore his necktie off and used it to lash her free wrist to the other bedpost. 

"Let me go!" Caroline shouted. She could see -- over the man's shoulder -- the woman sashaying toward the bed. "What are you—" Caroline tried again, but the woman peeled her panties off and forced them into Caroline's mouth. "Ugh!" Caroline grunted. She could taste the woman -- a hint of a perfumed lotion and bodily fluids -- in the wadded panties she couldn't spit out.

The man stood at the foot of the bed and grabbed Caroline's ankles. He pinned her legs down. 

"Shh," said the woman as she gazed down at Caroline. Caroline's hoodie hung open. Her breasts were still covered, but barely. The periphery of her nipples showed at the edges of the zipper. Her skirt was bunched at her waist and her panties were fully exposed. The woman traced her fingers all over Caroline. From her knees -- to her crotch -- along her hips to the curve of Caroline's breasts.

Caroline grunted and raised her hips. Was she protesting or asking for more?

The man's iron grip kept her legs down. The woman, dressed only in the lace tanktop, climbed onto the bed and straddled Caroline's waist. She was bare from the waist down and swayed her hips over Caroline. Caroline could see where the woman's thin strip of pubic hair ended -- and her moist pink began.

"Stay out of this," the woman warned Caroline. 

Caroline cocked an eyebrow. "Stay out of what?", she wanted to say -- but the woman's panties kept her from saying anything.

"He always gets what he wants," the woman added -- and then lowered herself onto Caroline. She rested both knees on the bed, straddled outside Caroline's hips, and settled her bare crotch onto Caroline's pubic bone. Caroline could see the woman's nipples grow hard under the lace tank. "Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's," the woman said with a moan.

Caroline felt the woman's heat against her own groin. The woman began grinding against her -- moaning with her each rotation of her hips. The woman was bringing herself to ecstasy. As the grinding brought the woman closer to orgasm, she grew wetter. Caroline could feel the woman getting her own panties wet, as she ground harder. The woman moaned again and threw herself forward onto Caroline. She ripped Caroline's hoodie all the way open, fully exposing Caroline's breasts. She massaged Caroline's breasts as she began to orgasm. With each "Yes!" and moan, she drove her wet groin harder against Caroline. 

Caroline knew the man was still holding her legs -- watching the woman from behind -- but he really didn't need to. Caroline had stopped resisting. The ache inside her was building -- even though she didn't want it to. Caroline could feel the orgasm welling inside her. 

The woman let out a final gasp and fell on top of Caroline. Her overheated body pressed hard against Caroline. Her hair fell into Caroline's face. The man still held Caroline tight as Caroline found herself thrusting her hips up, between the woman's legs. She wanted more and the woman could tell. The woman reciprocated by rotating her hips into Caroline's thrusts. The woman lifted her head -- just inches from Caroline's face. Caroline could feel the woman's lusty breathing against her own lips as the woman gave a tired smile.

Then the bathroom light, the only light in the motel room, went out with a click. The man was still holding her legs. The woman lay on top of her. Someone else was in the room. The room was pitch black. 

Footsteps came out of the bathroom. Caroline couldn't see a thing. But then she felt a finger touch the inside of her knee. Caroline struggled again. But the man and the woman pinned her down. The strange finger began sliding up the inside her thigh. Caroline used all of her strength to break free, but her wrists were still bound. As the strange finger found the hem of her pantie, Caroline's left wrist loosened the necktie that had lashed it against the bedpost. 

The strange finger delicately lifted the hem of her pantie, just at the inside of her leg. The woman lying on top of her repeated with a whisper, "Render unto Caesar..."




Endless Days & White Knights Ch. 03



Caroline could feel the wetness between her legs cool in the exposed air -- just as she ripped her hand free. She shoved the woman off of her.

The woman screamed as she crumpled to the floor. "She's free!" the woman shouted. 

Caroline shot forward at the waist and the third person in the room released her panties. Caroline lunged for the finger that had been touching her -- but the man at her feet plowed his shoulder into her bare torso. 

Caroline could feel two of her fingernails plunge into the third person's forearm. She scraped several inches of flesh from the person's arm. The man tackled Caroline back into the bed. The third person left the room before Caroline got a glimpse. The man grabbed the woman, who left her clothes behind as they raced out of the motel room. Caroline pulled the panties from her mouth and leapt from the bed -- only to be anchored back into it by the man's belt. By the time she worked herself free -- they were gone.

What felt like hours later, Caroline dragged herself to her apartment door. She noticed the stairwell and realized that they -- whoever "they" were -- knew where she lived. That thought sent a shiver through her. She quickly retreated into her apartment and pushed the door shut. 

The rest of the day Caroline spent in the fetal position on her couch. What did the woman mean, she wondered, when she said to "stay out of this"? Was it a friendly warning passed between lovers? Was it a threat? How many more muscular men in suits were lurking in the dark out there? 

She pulled her knees into her chest. She curled up tighter on the couch. She felt the day grow gray and then black. Night fell. Her eyes were open but all she could see was the woman grinding on top of her. She could smell the woman's hair as it drifted onto her face. She could feel her weight. Her ankles began to ache from the memory of the man's iron grip. She could feel the flesh and blood under the fingernails when she scratched the mysterious third person. Who had that been? Was it Carver? Why didn't he show himself?

Hours passed. She stayed curled on the couch. Waiting for -- what? The phone to ring? The door to get kicked in? She didn't know. What should she do? Quit her job at Azura? Did it really matter to her what millionaires and billionaires did with their money? Maybe she would just "stay out of this" ....

She drifted and, in the blackness before her, Carver's face appeared. And the woman's voice -- "Render unto Caeser..."

Caroline opened her eyes. She didn't know they had been closed. And for the first time in almost 24 hours, she sat up. "Render unto Caesar..." R. U. 2. C. 

She found her laptop. And then Carver's email. His email address -- carve@ru2c.aw. RU2C dot a-w. RU2C -- Render Un 2 Caesar. 

Caroline typed www.ru2c.aw into her Internet browser. It led her to a secure website. She needed a username and password to get into it. 

She's not sure how long she tried to access the site, but it was light outside when she looked up again. Hours had passed. And then realized another day had, too. It was Sunday morning. A drizzling mid-morning gray hung over the day. She wondered if she could walk away from the events of the last few days. But there were too many questions that she couldn't answer. And she believed getting into that website would answer them. If she only knew someone who could hack into—

She didn't bothering showering. She threw an overcoat on top of her hoodie and skirt. 

Caroline hadn't been to a college campus in almost ten years. But she remembered Jeremy -- the college intern who had vomited onto her new Ann Taylor sweater -- always talking about playing football on Sundays. She found a group of college men (boys, really) tackling and throwing and grunting in a football field. She was struck by how young and fit they all seemed and imagined how in ten years they would start to lose their muscle tone and hair and cockiness.

The finally game broke up and Jeremy noticed Caroline watching him. He was muddied and walked with the oblivious swagger of a college senior. He noticed the laptop tucked under her arm and asked, "You here for tech support?"

In his studio apartment, Caroline opened her overcoat and realized she was wearing the same clothes from Friday night. "You're good with computers, right?" she asked. 

"Listen," he said, "I owe you an apology. I think the last time we saw each other..." 

"Yeah, you kinda ruined my sweater," she said. 

They both laughed an awkward laugh. "In the TGI Friday's parking lot, right? Sorry. You just looked so hot and we were drinking and..." he said, as he slipped into the bathroom. He left the door open and she watched his muddy shirt and sweatpants hit the floor. He called out, "So you're having computer problems?"

"Well, I just need help accessing a website," she said to the open bathroom door. 

He poked his head out of the door -- his bare shoulders and chest just visible -- and said, "Usually when someone needs help getting into a website, it's because they're not supposed to get into it."

Caroline watched Jeremy strip off his boxers behind the door. She could see the boxers fall off his leg. But he closed the door as he said, "I charge for that kind of work -- so you know."

She heard the shower running, so she sat and powered up her laptop. And waited. And waited. Finally, she swung the bathroom door open. "I'm kinda in a hurry," she said and then gasped.

Jeremy stroked himself behind the glass shower door. His hand was covered in suds. He looked up and stopped stroking, but didn't let go of himself.

"Oh," said Caroline. 

"If I'm going to work next to you being all sexy like that, I need to jerk off -- so I can focus on the computer," he explained. 

"Okay," Caroline said and started to back out of the bathroom. 

"No, stay," he objected. "It'll help this go faster. You don't have to like show me anything or do anything." He began stroking again. "Maybe just unzip your hoodie. A little. Not all the way."

Caroline watched him stroke himself behind the glass. His naked body drenched by the shower. He wiped the glass in front of his face. His eyes trained on her body. His eagerness was as much a turn on as what he was doing. She put two fingers on her hoodie zipper. And started to improvise. She wiggled her hips and with each hip thrust, his hand stroked harder.

"Oh, yeah," he encouraged her.

When she touched the inside of her thigh, she was doing it less for his enjoyment and more to appease the tingling she was starting to feel down below. As soon as she dragged her hand to the hem of her skirt, he shouted, "Oh God!"

She watched him convulse and stroke harder, then more slowly and then stop. He rinsed himself clean and she found herself staring at him. The tingling between her legs did not go away. In fact, it intensified. 

Jeremy was surprised when he shut off the water that she was still in the bathroom. And even more surprised that her hoodie was completely unzipped and her skirt was on the floor. 

"Oh man," he complained, "I just—" He pointed back to the shower. 

"That was so hot," Caroline said. She pulled her hoodie off. 

"Gimme five minutes," he said as he lunged for her. His mouth covered one of her breasts while his hands clumsily tugged at her panties. "This'll help me get it back up," he said as he slurped her.

She pressed his head into her and pulled her legs out of her panties. She climbed onto the bathroom counter and he licked his way down her belly. "Oh yeah," he said as his face disappeared between her legs. 

He didn't seem to know what he was doing, but he made up for the lack of quality with quantity. He licked and kissed everything he could get his tongue and lips on. Every so often, he would do something just right and she would moan. This, of course, encouraged him to work faster and deeper. 

She thought, "This is a B-minus..." but welcomed the distraction. For a few minutes (a very few minutes), she would not think about strange people in stairwells or dark motel rooms. Her foot dangled between his legs and she touched him with her toes. He was hard again. "Tell me what to do," he said. 

She used both feet to feel him getting harder. "That's what I want," she said as she pulled him to his feet.

Jeremy opened the medicine cabinet behind her head. Before she knew it, he had a condom on and was inside her. She had never done it in a bathroom before. She had never had a nearly naked woman grind on her, either. And that memory was all she needed. A wave of ecstasy overcame her. She groaned and squeezed Jeremy's back. And that was enough to have him explode into her. He collapsed into her. And she felt the sink faucet jam into her back.

Less than fifteen minutes later, she was back in her Tercel driving to her apartment. Jeremy mumbled something about an asymmetrical algorithm when he hacked into the website for her. It took him less time to get into the site than it did for him to come the second time. 

Back in her apartment, she showered and changed. She thought about taking a nap, but went back to her laptop instead. The RU2C site (the .aw meant that it was an Aruba domain, according to Jeremy) contained business plans and acquisition strategies. Caroline scrolled through page after page. She clicked and double-clicked on plan after plan. 

"Oh my God," she muttered over and over again -- as she uncovered what Carver St. Pierre was planning to do. The sun had come up on Monday morning when it struck her that Carver had a mole planted with Azura. "Someone's in on this with him," she said aloud. 

She knew she needed to get to work but was exhausted and laid her head down on her laptop...

A knock at her apartment door jarred her awake. When she opened the door, she found Zack. He was shirtless and in his bicycling shorts. The next thing she knew he was on top of her on her bed. Her legs were wrapped around him and his strong thighs drove him into deep into her -- deeper than any man had gone before. His body was hot, almost too hot to touch. And he looked into her with those wounded eyes and that heartfelt smile -- and she felt the orgasm welling between her legs and shooting into her feet and up to her throat. And just as she began moaning...

She jerked forward. Her eyes fluttered open. She was in the leather backseat of a Lincoln Town Car -- waking up from a dream. The driver stared at her in the rearview as the airbag from his steering wheel deflated. The heater made the inside of the car a sauna. Caroline was sweating and looked down to see her hands under her skirt. She unrolled the window and the fresh morning air helped bring the memories back... 

...Early this morning, after she realized that there was a mole at Azura, she hurried out of her apartment. She carried a mug of coffee and a laptop to the parking garage. In her Tercel, she dialed her cell as she backed out. She heard a "Hey!" and saw that she had nearly run over Zack -- who was riding his mountain bike to work. He gave her a "my bad" smile and friendly wave as he hopped back onto his bike and rode away. The person she had dialed answered her call as she watched Zack ride out of the garage. His muscular thighs flexed, even through this jeans. His thighs had mesmerized her and they would later appear in her dream...

The person she had called was Dan from the San Francisco office. He was an Azura attorney and someone she felt she could trust. They had pretended to have an affair earlier in the year, so that he and his wife could divorce. As a closeted gay man, Dan liked the charade of marriage but preferred the freedom of being an ex. On the phone, Dan surprised Caroline by telling her that he was in town and they arranged a meeting later in the morning. "Now that you're a big shot," he said, "have your assistant arrange a car service to bring you to City Tower."

Caroline hadn't yet reached the office on her first day as a "big shot" and Dan already knew about the promotion. Good news travels fast, she thought. 

As she walked toward her office, Vanessa -- her new assistant -- noticed her coming. Vanessa slid on a sweater as Caroline drew near. She wore a short-sleeve blouse under the sweater. Was she hiding something? Why did she suddenly cover her arms at Caroline's approach.

"Cold in here," Vanessa said to Caroline's unasked question. Caroline asked her to arrange for a car service. 

As Caroline checked her emails and her calendar, Vanessa told her that the car was downstairs waiting for her. Caroline brought her laptop and found the Lincoln Town Car by the curb. As she slid into the leather backseat, the driver apologized that the heater was working overtime. The car was hot... The white noise of the traffic... She hadn't slept in days... and she was out. She slept hard and Zack came to her in the dream.

The driver had been watching her masturbate in her sleep instead of the road and rear-ended a minivan just as she began to moan. 

"City Tower's just two blocks that way," he apologized and Caroline ignored his eyes as they traveled her body. 

She spotted Dan waiting for her under the glass and steel of City Tower. "Where's your car, darling?" he asked as he pecked her on the cheek. 

"Long story," she said as they stepped into the elevator. He used a key to press the top floor button. 

"Now, what's all of this about?" he asked. His sport coat, pressed slacks and Windsor-knotted tie fit him perfectly. He looked like a 1950's movie star. 

The elevator zoomed skyward. "I've uncovered some information that I'm not sure what to do with," she explained. "It has to do with one of Azura's biggest investors -- Carver—"

And then the elevator doors slid open. They were on the roof. The wind whipped into the elevator and nudged them outside. Dan gestured for Caroline to follow him to the glistening black helicopter waiting there. He ducked his head as he opened the passenger door. Sitting comfortably in the backseat, reading an iPad, was Carver St. Pierre. 

Caroline climbed into in the plush seat next to him as Dan shut the door from the outside. Dan tapped on the pilot's door to signal that it was okay to take off. 

Carver had barely looked up from his reading. The helicopter lifted off and Dan, City Tower and the city itself grew smaller by the second. Carver finally set his iPad down and produced a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne. He poured the bubbly into two crystal flutes as the helicopter sped toward a vast ocean on the horizon.

More coming... 



Endless Days & White Knights Ch. 04



Chapter 4 -- "Weapons of Mass Seduction" 

Even from hundreds of feet above the ocean -- the 200-foot yacht looked larger than life. As Carver's polished black helicopter circled the vessel -- Caroline could see the name "Cesarine" on the back ("aft" she would later learn to call it) -- the brilliant white ship sparkled like a pearl floating in turquoise sea. 

The chitchat on the helicopter flight away from the city had been surprising banal. They sipped champagne. Carver commented on how nice Caroline looked in her business suit. They spoke about current events -- but more like they were quoting headlines and not delving into the articles. After a while (Caroline couldn't tell remember exactly how long -- the Veuve had exercised its power on her rational thinking) -- the land disappeared from under them. The endless ocean opened up. And then Caroline realized that it wasn't the ocean, but the Caribbean Sea. They flew for miles without seeing a ship or any other sign that humans had touched this part of the world. 

The chitchat stopped when the helicopter descended onto the red circle on the Cesarine's deck. The whir of the helicopter's rotors slowed and a handsome, elegant man in a crisp white uniform opened Caroline's door.

"Welcome aboard, Ms. Monroe," he said, "I am Captain Giancarlo Lisoni. My crew and I are happy to serve you."

The warm humid air enveloped Caroline as soon as she stepped clear of the helicopter. Captain Lisoni smiled a seasoned, comforting smile and told her, "The Cesarine is fully air-conditioned and stocked with every luxury. You will be quite comfortable while you are on board."

Carver hopped out of the helicopter as if he had done it hundreds of times before. He and Captain Lisoni greeted each other with manly bear hugs. They then kissed each other's cheeks. Left, then right. 

"Old friend!" Captain Lisoni said with gusto. "Your suite is prepared."

The sun was low in the distant sky. Pastels replaced the blue at the horizon. Carver led Caroline below deck and down a narrow hall. The door he opened gave way to a suite that took Caroline's breath away.

"Wow," she found herself whispering.

The Cesarine was heading south, Caroline could tell. The sun set to her right and the sky was darkening to her left. The suite's far wall was a semi-circle of windows that gave a clear 180-degree view out of the front of the yacht. Caroline felt as if she was floating (which, technically, she was) toward the stunning windows. She could hear ice clinking in glasses and was vaguely aware that Carver stood at the suite's bar behind her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Mmm," was all Caroline could manage to say. Her eyes stayed fixated on the horizon. The Cesarine's soft lilt was hypnotizing. Carver handed her a drink. Caroline put it to her lips. Sweet, cold and powerful -- the liquor snapped Caroline out of the dream she had found herself in. And may have had the opposite effect that Carver had intended. She was no longer spellbound by her surroundings, but fully aware of whom she was with and what he was capable of. Caroline turned away from the window.

"It's a Caribbean orange liqueur -- made from the Grand Cayman's finest rum," Carver said as he leveled his gaze at her. He sipped from his glass and Caroline followed suit. 

Sweet, cold and powerful. The drink had a lot in common with Carver, she realized. 

He had been more like the sunset over the Caribbean when they first met -- mesmerizing and impossible to resist. But since then, he had been smug and even threatened to blackmail her. Caroline felt as if she had matured years instead of days since their first encounter. 

"Stunning," he said, as he walked past her to the windows. She turned to watch him and found herself looking at the Caribbean once again. 

"Yes," she agreed and took another sip. This one went down more smoothly. 

Carver set his drink down on a glass table next to the bed. The bed, Caroline realized. She had just noticed it. King-sized, covered in silk and too many pillows to count. It faced the windows. 

Carver was behind her now. He slipped her jacket off her shoulders. "The humidity is one of the Caribbean's few drawbacks," he commented. He slithered in front of her and Caroline noticed his voice was serious and intense, but also breathy and full of lust. "Do you know why you're here?" he asked.

Caroline looked deeply into his dark eyes. "To swab the deck?" 

She was pleased that made him smile. His impenetrable veneer cracked just a little. 

"If you're wondering," he said, "it's not every woman that I bring here." With a single, deft motion -- he unbuttoned the lowest button on her blouse. 

"Working your way from the bottom up?" Caroline asked with an orange liqueur smile. 

"That's how I've achieved my greatest successes."

And with that, the next button up fell open.

"What I was actually wondering," Caroline said as she looked down to see her skin exposed, "was how long it would take us to get to Aruba. That is where we're heading isn't it?"

"There are hundreds of locales the Cesarine might be heading toward," he said -- trying to remain mysterious. 

The third button fell open. Caroline knew her bra was showing. The Caribbean sparkled outside the arc of windows. The liqueur -- on top of the champagne -- made her feel light. And her inhibitions with this man had flown long ago.

"The direction the helicopter took," she said, "and the direction we're heading -- it's in the general direction of the south Caribbean. Aruba's there. Plus, isn't that where your consortium of investors is based?"

He opened her last button. Her blouse fell open. But he let it lay against her. His dark eyes stared at her. "Tell me about my consortium of investors," he said -- as his hands caressed her stomach and then her hips and then past her skirt's hem onto her bare legs. 

"Your turn," she shook her head and told him.

"Yes, ma'am," he obeyed. He found the skirt zipper on her hip and before she could exhale, it lay on the ground around her heels. 

He was on his knees and she could feel his breath on her bare thighs. As her panties moistened, she fought the urge to pull his face into her panties. "I mean, your turn to tell me about your investor consortium," she said. 

He grazed her calves and the backs of her knees with his fingertips. "What's there to tell about that stodgy group of old money and their sunburnt offshore accounts?" he asked innocently and gently kissed her thigh. He let his lips linger against her skin.

He brushed his lips to the inside of her thigh and started heading north. She involuntarily let out a moan. "That's more like it," he whispered.

"So they are on Aruba?" she tried to ask. She tried to bring her high heels closer together -- to block the access to where his mouth was heading. But he slid his arm between her legs and put his hand on her panties from behind. 

"Tell you what," he countered. "For every question I answer, I get to do something I want." He looked up at her. His face was just below her waist. His arm reached between her legs. 

She nodded.

"Yes," he said, "They're in Aruba. We're meeting on Thursday." And with that -- he buried a long kiss on top of her panties, right where her legs came together. She could feel herself getting wetter. Her resistance was fading. But she had to know more.

"You don't represent a majority of Azura Holdings, but you're trying to increase your consortium's influence," she managed to say between breaths.

"That was two questions," Carver said. "Yes." He gripped her panty's waistline. "And yes." And he pulled her panties to her ankles. 

She was exposed in front of all the Caribbean to see. But there was no one there but them. The windows opened to the fading light. She was beginning to see her reflection in the glass. She was naked from the waist down. Her blouse hung open. And Carver's head was between her bare legs. 

"Once you have control..." she moaned, "...of Azura, you're planning to break the company up."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed as he buried his nose into her pubic hair. She nearly doubled over. She cried out and grabbed his thick hair. 

"By selling the company's assets and licensing the company's intellectual property and brands," Caroline panted out, "you'll generate over fourteen billion dollars and earn between six and seven billion dollars a year until the licensing deals expire." Her knees buckled when she finished. "Ohhh!" she wailed. She could tell his tongue was inside her. 

He slid his tongue more deeply inside her. 

"Do you realize that your plan will also..." she gasped, "...put 25,000 people out of their jobs, two small towns and a dozen banks will probably go bankrupt and the national defense will be jeopardized -- because of contracts you plan to dissolve."

He finally removed his tongue from inside of her. He stood and unbuckled his pants. "Yes," he said. 

He lifted her off her feet and laid her on the bed. Her hair fell around her on the silk sheets. She could feel the orgasm welling inside her. Her feet tingled. Her belly tingled. And between her legs -- she wondered if anything had ever been so wet and so on fire before. 

She looked at him. He was naked and hard. The condom was on and he climbed between her welcoming legs. When he was inside her, she kissed his neck and shoulders. The sunset was in full bloom and she watched the sky burn red as she came in wave after wave of passion. By the time he exploded inside her, she was engulfed in complete and total ecstasy. 

Later, as she lay next to the sleeping Carver St. Pierre, she was exhausted but giddy. She could barely lay still. Not only had she figured out his plan, but she was sleeping on the finest sheets in the world on arguably the most romantic bed in the known universe. And next to her was a handsome, probably egotistical and likely manipulative, very wealthy man.

At the thought of "manipulative", Caroline became suddenly alert. She realized she just had told Carver everything she knew about his plans. The memories of danger flooded back to her. The muscular man tying her to a motel bed. The strange woman creeping to her apartment. She was showing off to Carver when she told him what she had figured out, but that may have been exactly what he was after. He wanted to know how much she knew.

She eased out of bed without waking him. She checked her cell phone but there was no service in the middle of the sea. In the suite's bathroom, she found a white robe. She put it on and snuck out of the suite. 

In the hall, she found a wall phone. She needed to call Elizabeth Racine, her new boss and founding partner of Azura Holdings, and warn her what he had learned. She picked up the phone and tried to dial. A deep Italian accent greeted her. The voice told her that there was no phone service to the United States. All non-essential communications had to be approved by Mr. St. Pierre. "We'll arrive in Aruba on Friday," she was told. 

She hung up and realized that something wasn't right. Carver had said the meeting in Aruba was on Thursday. 

She could hear a thumping sound and thought the yacht's engines must be churning. She snuck back into the suite and noticed two things were missing -- Carver and her clothes. 

Then she realized what the thumping sound was. A few seconds later, she ran onto the deck to see Carver St. Pierre lifting off in the black helicopter. He waved good-bye as the helicopter disappeared into the night sky.

Captain Lisoni walked to her as she watched Carver fly away. "Mr. St. Pierre would like me and my crew to make you as comfortable as possible until we reach Aruba," he told her. He interlocked his strong arm with hers and walked her back to the suite. "We have everything you need. And more," he said as he dropped her off. "Good night, Ms. Monroe." His eyes twinkled. His salt and pepper hair was well manicured and he had a mustache perfectly trimmed over his sculpted Roman lips.

When she was alone, she sat on the bed -- which only moments before had been such a place of bliss -- the sunset was gone and the sky was black. The lights in the room forced her to look at her full reflection in the majestic windows. Her hair was mussed and the robe -- the only article of clothing she had access to -- was wrapped tightly around her body. She wasn't very proud of the woman she was looking at, so she turned out all of the cabin's lights. With the room dark, the black sky outside reappeared in the windows. The stars pierced the blanked of night. She stared at them and wondered where this journey was taking her. Later, just before she drifted off to sleep, she thought she saw a shooting star.

The morning gray filtered into the cabin and gently nudged Caroline awake. She had slept naked for the first time in her life and the feel of the silk sheets against her skin was delicious. She put on her robe and stared out at the smooth sea. Yesterday's exhaustion and yesterday's mistakes were behind her. She needed to get a message to Elizabeth Racine and warn her about Carver's plans. 

She marched toward the suite's door -- determined to take control of her destiny. She jerked the door open to find a man waiting there for her. "Good morning, ma'am," the olive skinned Adonis said, "I am Antonio and I am here to service your needs."

Antonio wore a tight white T-shirt that did very little to hide every sinew of his muscular torso. His loose white shorts fell to just above his knees. His skin looked like it had been perfected by the Mediterranean sun and his hair was slicked back, with its curls flipping away from the back of his neck. His mega-watt smile could have powered the Cesarine for a week.

"Thank you, Antonio," Caroline said, trying not to stare at the bulge in his white shorts. It was rare that Caroline noticed how a large a man might be, but Antonio was a rare man -- who appeared to be built to be noticed. "But my needs don't need servicing."

"I will bring your breakfast. Coffee? Fresh-squeezed orange juice? Danishes? An omelet?"

Caroline realized how long it had been since she had eaten. "Yes, thank you."

"En suite or on the deck?"

"I would like to speak to the captain," she said.

"Breakfast on the deck then," Antonio smiled. "I will alert Captain Lisoni to meet you on the aft dining deck."

Antonio led her to the aft dining deck. As they made their way there, past the polished wood railings and gleaming brass fixtures -- Caroline was able to sense how large the Cesarine was. To say that the yacht was luxurious was like saying the Hope Diamond was a pretty gem. The Cesarine's glass shimmered like crystal. She felt as if she were walking through a floating palace.

And the crew. Oh, the crew. Each time they passed one of the men, she was greeted with a friendly "Good morning, ma'am" and a smile that could only be smiled back to. She fantasized about how many of them she would have to seduce to get off of the yacht. Did she have the power -- and the stamina -- of mass seduction? She noticed her hands were clutching the robe she wore as tightly as possible. Part of the reason these men were so fixated on her might be the fact that only a single layer of white cotton separated their stares from her bare skin.

Each of the two dozen men looked like a version of Antonio. Taller Antonios, slimmer Antonios. But none had his powerful bulge in the front of their pants that Caroline imagined as he walked in front of her. His ass rounded the back of his shorts and each perfect cheek flexed with every one of his steps. 

She was enjoying the view of his behind and was disappointed that he ushered her in front of him. The stairs were narrow and he was just being gentlemanly. In front of him, she could see his hands on the railing on either side of her as she stepped up. He was very close. The robe didn't reach her knees and she wondered if he was studying her ass as closely as she had studied his.

"Antonio?" she asked without looking back.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You are here to service me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Have you serviced other passengers?"

"It is my job, ma'am. I serve meals, make bar drinks and perform other functions."

"Other functions?"

"For the women, I am excellent and giving manicures and pedicures. Perhaps you would like a massage?"

"Tempting. But... Do you know where my clothes are?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"May I have them?"

"No, ma'am. Mr. St. Pierre has forbidden it, ma'am."

Of course, Caroline thought. Then she said, "Antonio."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Please call me Caroline."

"It would be my pleasure, Caroline," he replied. He squeezed by her on the narrow stairs. She wasn't sure why he made the sudden move to catch her. He faced her to get by and his body brushed hers. His solid chest grazed her shoulder and his knees touched her thighs -- right at the hem of her robe. But it was the bulge she felt against her waistline that made her feel hot. She was surprised that it didn't loosen the knot in her robe's sash. She could swear she could feel it pulse and held in her gasp.

She looked up at Antonio -- but he was looking ahead. He opened the door ahead of her -- another gentlemanly gesture -- and nodded for her to pass. 

Caroline stepped through the doorway and the gasp she held in a second before escaped her. "Oh my," she said. 

The table was set with porcelain and silver. The table linens were from a 5-star restaurant. But no restaurant could match this view. On a high, aft deck, Caroline had a near 360-degree view of the sea. Sunrise was complete -- but the day's heat had not kicked in yet. The breeze lifted the tablecloth just enough. 

Antonio offered her the single chair at the table. Coffee. Fresh-squeezed orange juice. Danishes. An omelet. Just as Antonio had promised. 

The rest of that day at sea -- Tuesday, Caroline realized -- was spent wandering the sleek yacht. Captain Lisoni assured her that they would reach Aruba on Friday and there was no way to accelerate that timeline. He was not authorized to let her use the yacht's communications to call anyone. His orders were to keep her comfortable and bathed in luxury. 

As she meandered around the yacht, Caroline clutched her robe tight and nodded to the crew as they passed. Her fantasy of a mass seduction faded as the day went on. The crew -- while incredibly friendly and pleasant -- were also professionals and focused on their jobs -- whatever those were -- of keeping the vessel moving across the cobalt sea. 

Antonio was never too far away. And on the rare occasions when Caroline didn't know where he was, all she needed to do was pick up one of the phones she stumbled upon. His smooth voice always said, "How may I service you, Caroline?" before she could speak.

Her meals were fresh seafood and fruit. At dinner, Caroline let Antonio fix her a lychee martini. By the time she lay back down in the world's most amazing bed, she realized how much she wished that she had been sharing this experience with someone. Even a girlfriend to secretly giggle with her over this dreamlike experience. She was surprised that Carver St. Pierre wasn't who she imagined standing next to on the deck. When she closed her eyes -- she pictured Zack, from her apartment building, walking toward her on one of the yacht's decks.

She fell asleep with a smile on Tuesday night.

When she awoke Wednesday morning, she realized that the sun was higher in the sky then when she woke upon Tuesday. She had slept in. Antonio waited for her outside the suite door. After breakfast, Caroline returned to the suite. She needed to re-focus. This idle time on the yacht was softening her ability to concentrate on what Carver and his investor consortium was trying to do. She needed to reason with Captain Lisoni. 

Antonio agreed to take her to the bridge. She thought if she could meet the captain on his turf, she could speak to him on equal footing.




Endless Days & White Knights Ch. 04



"I am impressed by your resilience, Ms. Monroe," Captain Lisoni told her. "I have other affairs to attend to at the moment, but perhaps you and I can discuss this further at dinner this evening."

And with that, Antonio ushered her off the bridge. On the deck, Caroline realized that the captain had rebuffed her and asked her on a date at the same time. She was impressed by the maneuver and also realized that men like the captain and Carver St. Pierre seemed to be step ahead of her. She needed to change that, she realized.

"Caroline," said Antonio as they walked in the sunshine, "if you are to dine with Captain Lisoni, may I suggest that you shower and freshen yourself?"

When was the last time she had showered, Caroline wondered. Monday morning? It was Wednesday. Goodness, she thought, is it that obvious?

As Antonio opened the door to her suite, he said, "Do not wash your hair. We have a salon."

Caroline showered in the suite's glass walled bathroom. She watched the sea as she soaped and rinsed her body. As she rinsed between her legs, she thought of the amount of sex she'd had recently -- and how the tingle down there let her know that she had not grown tired of it. I'm reaching my sexual peak at just the right time, she thought.

In the salon, Antonio leaned Caroline's head into a sink. He asked if the water temperature was okay (it was). And his strong hands went to work. He wet her hair and massaged in the shampoo and then the conditioner. He went on for more than an hour. Her hair smelled like a tropical fruit salad. And his scalp massage sent glorious shivers down her body. Her hands rested in her lap and she wondered how far her robe was open. When she crossed her legs, she could feel the robe slide up her thigh. Was Antonio noticing this, too? Caroline slowly opened her eyes, as his fingers worked their magic on her scalp. 

Antonio's eyes were locked on hers. With a smile, he suggested a manicure and pedicure. 

Caroline watched the sea roll by the starboard side of the yacht as she received her manicure. She was careful not to muss her perfect macaw blue fingernails as she sipped the mimosa that Antonio had provided. His hand massage reached up her forearms and past her elbows. 

The hours past and she was on her third mimosa by the time he knelt at her feet.

He painted her toenails with gold. Her feet had never been so pampered. The lotions and oils delighted her. And then the foot massage made her melt into her chair. Her feet felt healed and alive. And she never knew her ankles needed that much attention. Her calves welcomed Antonio's magic grip. And then her knees opened when he began working them.

As his hands slid above her knees and his fingertips hinted that they were peaking under her robe, Caroline tightened her ass and gave her pelvis a slight thrust forward. She wanted Antonio to know that whatever he wanted to do -- whatever he wanted to do -- it was welcome.

His fingers worked deeps inside her thighs and then slid to the outside. "Perhaps a full body massage would please you, Caroline?" he asked.

"Yes," she panted, "that would please me greatly."

The massage table was ready outside the salon. It was in a private, shaded part of the deck and instead of the soft music of a spa, the relaxing waves splashed by. He patted the soft linen of the massage table and said, "Face down to start." As Caroline climbed onto the table, he suggested that she disrobe. 

"Uh," Caroline was tempted but then said, "I think I'll keep it on."

Antonio seemed to have no opinion about her decision but simply smiled as he helped her get comfortable facing down on the table. He started by lightly rubbing her back -- on top of the robe. Her body relaxed into the table. He spent a long time on both arms and re-visited her hands. Caroline lost all sense of time when Antonio went back to work on her feet. Her soles. Her calves. High up the back of her thighs. She could tell his hands reached under her robe when she felt his fingertips graze her ass.

But then his hands traveled back down her thighs. He gripped her ankle and bent her at the knee. When he lifted her knee and rubbed the front of her thigh, she could feel the cool sea breeze blow up between her legs. Her pubic hairs tickled. With the one hand around her ankle, the other hand worked the front of her thigh. His fingers reached the front of her hip and teased her pubic area. Then he gently set her ankle down. And aroused her with the same front-of-the-thigh tease to the other leg. By the time his fingers reached within inches of her growing wetness, she found herself squeezing the linen into balls with both fists. 

But then he moved to the foot of the table and started working the soles of her feet. And while this was very relaxing, she couldn't help but be disappointed by the shift in focus away from the hidden parts of her body.

Then, his strong hands glided up both calves -- over the backs of her knees. When his fingers slid under her robe, she could feel him climbing onto the table. His powerful legs easily opened hers as he worked his way higher.

She gave him access by spreading her legs wider. His knees pushed against the inside of her thighs, while his hands went to work further inside her robe. She could feel him massage her lower back and then slide his hands down and grip both of her cheeks. As he applied downward pressure, he drove her pubic bone into the massage table. The pleasure rippled down her legs and up her stomach. Her breasts ached as she moaned into the table. He tightened his grip on her cheeks and used this thumbs to open them. "Oh god," she grunted as he drove her pubic bone harder into the table. 

Caroline lost track of how long he stayed behind her on the table. She could feel the orgasm building inside her, but he kept her on the edge and never pushed her over. She wanted his touch to go further, but he kept her wanting. She was panting when she heard him say, "Okay, Caroline, turn over."

She did -- with a slow eagerness that she hoped would send the right message. The message was, "Take me" but he simply smiled and moved to the head of the table. His fingertips massaged her scalp. Caroline could feel her robe was open -- that one breast was fully exposed and that Antonio could see all of one leg and most of her pubic hair. He rubbed her temples and traced her jawline. Caroline closed her eyes and wriggled her hips -- hoping that the robe would fall open even more.

His hands disappeared and she opened her eyes and saw him move to her side. When he took hold of her robe, she arched her back and prepared herself for him.

Instead of pulling her robe open, he closed and tied it shut. "Thank you, Caroline," he said. "Take your time in getting up." 

By the time she managed to swing her legs from the table, he had produced a glass of ice water. She gulped it down. Her entire body ached and she was so horny, she wanted to tear Antonio's pants off and mount that massive bulge -- which had been between her legs and was now within arm's reach. She had never been teased so profoundly. She wondered what Antonio would do if she opened her robe and began touching herself. That's what she wanted. Her orgasm was so close. She handed him the empty water glass back, hoping he would take her wrist and pull her into him.

"Let me take you," he started ("Finally," she thought.), "to your dinner with Captain Lisoni."

And the massage was over. Caroline couldn't believe it. But Antonio helped her off the table and escorted her to the topmost deck of the yacht. 

A table for two waited for her there. "The captain will be with you momentarily," Antonio said and left her. She watched his hard body walk away and felt the longing slip away from her.

Soft music played from unseen speakers. The table was set with the finest china and crystal -- like her breakfast table, but with a bottle of Chianti instead of orange juice. The sun was setting far to her left, as the yacht continued its journey to Aruba.

Captain Lisoni appeared on the deck. They were high above the rest of the yacht and were the only two people as far as the eye could see. "Ms. Monroe," he said in the weighty tone of a sea captain, "thank you for joining me for dinner."

"Please call me Caroline," she said and shook his hand. 

He took her hand and kissed it. "And you must call me Giancarlo," he replied. 

They sat facing each other. His handsome face and gray-flecked hair were framed by the sea and sky. He looked to be about fifty, but with a twinkle in his eye that made him seem younger. As he poured the Chianti for her (he drank only water, since he was on duty), she said, "Giancarlo, let me be direct. I know we are scheduled to arrive in Aruba in two days, but there is a meeting I must get to tomorrow. Is there anyway you can make that happen?"

He smiled. "I can see why they admire you so," he said. 

"Who admires me so?"

"Mr. St. Pierre and his colleagues. You have, of course, realized that you were brought here to keep the information you have away from that meeting."

"Unfortunately, I realized it a little too late," she said -- fuming over her first sip of the red wine. 

"Your intelligence, fire and frustration become you," he said. "They will serve you well. You remind me of... well, never mind... I am under orders to delay our arrival to Aruba until Friday."

"Who do I remind you of?" Caroline asked. 

"She was..." he started, then paused. He drifted to a place only he could see. "She was Esmeralda. She was my true love."

Caroline waited. She could tell this wasn't the time to interrupt him. And then he continued, "We met at university. And fell in love there. We were to be married, but I had obligations to the navy. Esmeralda had your hair and the same fire you possess. We would go months without seeing one another and ached for each other when we were apart. Six months before I was to leave the navy, she flew to meet me when my ship was docked off the coast of Indonesia. Esmeralda was a passenger on a ferry -- coming to see me -- that capsized in a storm. The ocean took my only true love that day. I left the navy and never returned home. The ocean took my Esmeralda and yet I have stayed on the ocean for all these years."

His eyes moistened. Caroline reached across the table and took his hand. He stared at her, but Caroline felt as if he were seeing Esmeralda's face. Still holding hands, they stood and slow danced on top of the yacht. The music softly played around them as the Caribbean floated by. Giancarlo buried his face in her hair and wrapped his arms around her. She clutched him tightly and they swayed together. She could feel his strong back and as their legs rubbed together, she felt the aching tease that Antonio had left inside her start to build once again.

She lowered her hands from his shoulder blades to the small of his back. He followed suit. She slid her hands past his waistline and rested them there. He did the same to her. They held each other from behind. Caroline pulled him against her. She could feel the heat between his legs against her stomach. Her face rested against his chest and his face was still in her hair. She could hear his breathy groan as she raised a knee between his legs. 

She grinded against him and her robe slid further open. Caroline felt a strong combination of wanting him and wanting something from him. While their bodies were still clutched together, she reached between them and found his inner thigh. He groaned again. And as she slid her hand higher, she felt how hard he had grown. He lifted her robe from behind and caressed her bare skin.

Caroline stroked him outside his crisp white uniform and then slowly unzipped his pants. She reached inside and tightened her fingers around him. When she pulled him free of his pants, he pulsed under her grip. As she pumped him -- up and down, harder and more fiercely -- he groaned with pleasure. With her free hand, she took his and put it between her legs. His fingers found her wetness and began rubbing her. After the buildup with Antonio, she was ready to explode within seconds. 

"Yes," she moaned. As her body convulsed with an explosive passion that surprised even her, she gripped and stoked him more tightly. Her orgasm excited him past the point of no return and he erupted in her grip. As he orgasmed, she used the warm lubrication to pump him with longer and harder stokes. Finally he quivered and let out a final moan. They both breathed heavily and held each other as they continued to sway together on the yacht's highest deck.

He kept his face in her hair. And Caroline could feel his warm tears fall upon her neck. 

That night, alone in her suite, Caroline remembered the soft kiss Giancarlo place on her cheek before we walked off the deck. They didn't speak again. And she fell asleep not knowing if he had even realized that he had been dancing with her and not Esmeralda.

The next morning, Caroline awoke to find her clothes hanging -- cleaned and pressed -- in her suite. She changed into them and Antonio led her to the gangway.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Caroline," he said as he ushered her off the yacht.

On the dock in Aruba -- one day early, as Caroline had requested -- Caroline took a last look at the yacht. Through the bridge's window, she could see Giancarlo smiling at her. He gave her a final nod and she turned to face what Aruba would bring. 

She walked into a shopping district a block from where she disembarked the Cesarine. She was in Aruba -- in time for the meeting -- but had no idea where to go or what to do. She stood at an intersection outside a jewelry store that catered to tourists. The heat and humidity descended upon her.

A black SUV stopped inches from her and Caroline had to step back to avoid the passenger's side view mirror. The driver -- in a beige linen suit -- hopped out. Caroline expected an apology, but instead he opened the back door for her.

Inside, Elizabeth Racine patted the seat next to her and said, "You're right on time, Caroline. Welcome to Aruba."

More coming...