I want her again. I’m in the middle of a room full of baracudas in expensive suits, but my brain is still in bed with her. I start to fill up thinking about the ways she came for me. That little giggle at the end. Completely free, her head thrown back.

For some reason, the near-miss this morning really threw me. I don’t know what it is. She’s gorgeous, no doubt. Sarcastic, a smart-aleck, which I love. The one-two punch of prim sexy-librarian turned sex kitten, maybe. That has to be part of it: she was buttoned up and skittish in my room. But the second I had her open, her pussy on my tongue, her response was like heat lightning. Now I can’t stop thinking about the way she fucked me back, stroke for stroke. Every time I sank into her, her body tight and drawn up to meet me. I want that again.

I check the wall clock. It’s been two hours. I’m at the head of the conference table, trying to focus on the presentation our team has put together, but I can’t seem to get my brain out of my briefs. Time for a break.

“Hey Mitchell, let’s stretch our legs, get some lunch and we’ll discuss the last two sites after. I need some air.”

There are sounds of agreement from folks at the table. The lights come up in the room.

We’re in a rented office space, high above the city. When people think of New Orleans, they think of the French Quarter and all the historic places. Some folks think Super Bowl and conferences. For our purposes, New Orleans could potentially become the new headquarters for J.C. Woodson Corporation. It’s very much at the top of our list in terms of taxes, real estate prices and commerce and industry-friendly environs, but there’s always going to be a part of me that resists the idea of leaving New York.

“Hey, Clark.” Mitchell, one of our ground team, stands up. “Gloria told me to remind you to look into GNORR.”

“Some kind of pasta dish?”

“The Greater New Orleans Regional Redevelopment. Folks she thinks we should partner with for the move. She says they know we’re here.”

“I know, she mentioned it to me, too. I don’t know why it matters yet. The last thing we need is the community groups meddling with this decision. First they tell us where to build, then they try to tell us what to build. It’s never just an opinion.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He looks over his shoulder to check that the others have moved off and then leans in to me. “Is that a hickey?”

Mitchell works for J.C.W. but he’s also one of my buddies.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Checking out the scene before we move in? A little area recon between the sheets?”

“Grow up.”

“Never,” he says. He slaps my shoulder and is about to move off, when I tag him back.

“Say I want to take someone to dinner in the city tonight. Where do I go?”

“Take your pick. One of the great things about this place.”

“I know. But where would I go if I were going to impress a local?”

“You wouldn’t. Locals have their spots. Nothing else impresses. However, you will want to end up here.”

Mitchell taps something into his phone and hits send. A second later I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. “That’s the address. Go to dinner wherever she picks, then take her here. You’ll thank me.”

I’ve got a small office suite at the end of the hall and I head over there for a breather and to check messages. Gloria’s sent a second message about the GNORR group. For whatever reason, she has a bee in her bonnet about them.

I put my tablet to the side and steeple my fingers. I want to focus, but I’m still going over the night and this morning. I adjust in my chair because this erection just won’t quit.

I drop a hand down to my pants and try to adjust. Not working. I keep seeing her on the desk, her legs spread for me, her beautiful, full breasts spilling out of her dress. Then on the bed, trying to hold back from her orgasm, the look of surprise and pleasure on her face when I surprised her with my fingers and tongue.

Before I know it, I’ve undone my fly and taken my cock in my hand, as much to relieve the pressure as to relive that moment. Her response was fucking amazing. I loved making her come, loved that struggle on her face when she tried to hide from it and couldn’t. Feeling her pulse and spasm around my cock when she came again, so hot and so, so fucking wet.

I come right then, the warm kick of come shooting out of my cock and dripping down the shaft. I fumble for my handkerchief just in time to keep it from staining my pants.

The pressure is momentarily relieved—I think I might be able to get my head straight for this meeting now. But I’m still anxious. What if she doesn’t show?

* * *

No such luck, I’m just as useless that afternoon. About 2 PM I tell everyone to head home early, and then I make my way back to the hotel. I make a few calls, fend off Gloria, answer some emails. I try to burn off some of the excess energy in the hotel gym, then head back to my room for a long, hot shower.

And I’m still in the lobby a good thirty minutes before seven. I’m not used to wondering about a woman, whether or not she’ll show. To kill more time, I head for the hotel bar.

Lo and behold, she’s there. When I walk into the place I only see the back of her seated—she’s on a stool at the bar—but there’s no mistaking the long, dark hair spilled down her back. When I come around, I see the rest of her and feel like I’m going to fall to my knees. Creamy bare shoulders over a form-fitting, long red dress with a high slit at the leg. Strappy sandals. She’s twirling a straw in something clear and bubbly while tapping something on her phone. She seems distracted, doesn’t see me until I’m right next to her.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” She sits up straighter, swipes the message away on the phone screen. She looks beautiful, and her lipstick is the same red of her dress.

“Soda water and lime again?” I ask.

“Vodka and soda.” She tilts the glass my way. “Liquid courage. I have a hot date tonight.”

She’s teasing, but she might be a little serious. She’s here early too, after all.

Her phone vibrates on the bar. She looks at it, looks at me, then deliberately ignores it. A small gesture, but I approve.

I did decide to take Mitchell’s advice. I tell her the only place I have in mind for that evening is the address Mitchell sent me, a tavern at the end of Bourbon street.

“Otherwise, I put us in your hands. I am a tourist, after all.”

The joke is not lost on her and she blushes. “I might have some ideas. But how hungry are you?”

She’s talking food, no irony in her question at all. And I have every intention of answering. Yet somehow I end up kissing her instead.

She’s startled, but not for long. We don’t skip a beat—the heat between us all still there, like the day between now and last night didn’t even happen. And my cock is hard the second I touch her. The way she responds, slanting her mouth to take my kiss, I know if I put a hand under her dress she’ll be wet and ready.

When I pull back, her eyes are hooded and soft. I’ve been looking forward to dinner with her all day, truly, but now all I want is to drag her upstairs and have her over and over again instead. The hungry way she’s looking at me, I think she has the same idea.

She looks up as though considering. “You know, we are in one of the very finest hotels in the city. The food here is pretty great.” She peeks at me. “Speaking as a local, I mean.”

“As a local, I value your opinion, of course.”

“Thank you, yes,” she deadpans. “And, as this is such a fine hotel establishment, I would be remiss in not advising you to try the room service. World renowned.”

I’d be an idiot not to take the lady’s advice.