What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [55]
Although she didn’t think feeling kinky was the sole goal of the jewelry—the idea, he’d let her know, was to be physically aware of it. So she reached up, squeezing each ring a little tighter, until she suffered a soft pinching sensation that echoed through her pussy. That’s when she realized the constant pressure of the rings probably kept a woman’s nipples hard for as long as she wore them. Which likely kept her just slightly aroused for the duration. And that was probably the real purpose behind them.
Hmm. Well, she would see about that.
Jenna waited all afternoon to get a fantasy invitation—but it never came. And the whole while, her nipples stayed beaded tightly in the rings, keeping her very aware of them, making her wish she had Brent here to play with them or suck them like last night.
Finally, she put on a sundress, deciding to venture to one of the resort’s restaurants for dinner. Given that she was at the Hotel Erotique, she wore one of her thinner, prettier bras underneath—and felt unduly sexy to leave the room with her nipples jutting through the pale blue fabric of her dress, knowing she still wore the nipple rings. Her pussy tingled within her lacy thong—not her usual undies, but another of the items bought specifically for her trip. Her only disappointment was knowing Brent wouldn’t see them.
She chose a casual restaurant located on a deck overlooking the ocean, complete with tiki torches. The sun was just beginning to set as she arrived at the Paradise Grill, and a calypso band played on a small stage in the corner.
It was strange to sit down and look around at the other people—couples, friends, again knowing they were all here for extreme forms of sex. But she felt less embarrassed by it now than she had before.
She drank an erotic rum punch while she awaited her food, having chosen a simple barbeque sandwich with coleslaw and fries. If she had the night off, she was going to be low-key about everything, just relaxing and enjoying the downtime. Even if she continued to remain more aware of her body than usual. She wasn’t sure whether to blame it on the nipple rings or on three successive nights of hot sex. But she tried to take pleasure from the awareness more than push it aside—because that’s why she was here, right? To learn to enjoy her body. And besides, she knew more sex was coming, even if it wasn’t tonight.
The food was good without being too filling, so she indulged in a piece of key lime pie for dessert, enjoying the Caribbean music and the vibrant colors left behind in the sky when the sun sank past the horizon.
When the band played a particularly upbeat instrumental tune, heavy on the steel drums, the lead singer—a tall, handsome black man with a light Jamaican accent—encouraged the crowd to dance. “Up on ya feet—everybody.”
One couple took the floor, then another, soon joined by a group of three girls who looked a little tipsy on their heels but appeared to be having a good time. Probably because Jenna happened to be the only person dining alone, the singer—who bore a striking resemblance to Blair Underwood—wove through the tables to offer a smile as he held out his hand. “Dance with me, pretty lady.”
She instinctively waved him away.
But then he cast a teasing look, an enticing look, and said with that soft island lilt, “Come now, lady—don’t break my heart.” He laid a dark hand across his chest. “Share a dance with me tonight.”
And suddenly it hit Jenna: She wanted to dance with this man. Because it was a beautiful night and a warm tropical breeze wafted over the deck. And because the music was intoxicating and fun. And because she had on a pretty dress and there was simply no reason not to.
So this time she put her hand in his and pushed back her chair. He led her to the dance floor, where she found the beat easy to move to and realized she was truly enjoying herself. A few days ago? She never would’ve done something like this, simple as it was. Maybe with Shannon, but never by herself. She would have feared looking silly, tripping