Hot Like Coffee Read online

  “I’m Traci,” she said and took my hand in her own. “Hi Mike.”

  Traci changed my life.

  I became confident in myself once again. I found what I’d missed so much since Elle had passed… a friend, a confidant, a partner and a kinky soulmate (as she says).

  The day she met my eyes in the coffee shop I would have never guessed, not in a million years, that the warmth I felt then would be replaced by an even deeper warmth – the warmth I felt as I danced with my lady as though she were the only woman in existence. Because, to me, holding her in my arms and dancing in our favorite restaurant, she was.

  The Middle

  Hot Like Coffee

  Mike took my hand and led me around the dance floor. He whispered in my ear that he’d been reminiscing about the day we met. His recollection of the event was spot-on and we both laughed out loud – louder than was polite. Others on the small dance floor looked at us and were probably wondering what we found so funny. But they would never know the secret we shared.

  With Mike I laughed a lot because he's a nut. He made me laugh even when he was laughing at me. But, if I had to pinpoint one thing about him that made me deliriously happy it would be the way he allowed me to be… free.

  Free. A four letter word that is more powerful than any other. More powerful than even love.

  I had spent years learning how not to be free – how to be everything for everyone – which was not only impossible, it was impossibly exhausting.

  Mike was different. He gave me liberty to be someone I couldn’t be in ‘real life.’ With him, I could be whoever I wanted to be and I could act any way I chose to act and he was okay with me.

  Of course, he was also my Dom – a concept I was still getting used to. But, he made the idea easy to wrap my head around because he was, at least to me, the perfect mesh of an Alpha-Beta male.

  Mike was sensitive enough to take my feelings into consideration and to be my friend but strong enough (in every way) to make me feel protected. For the first time in my life, I had a man who knew what he wanted and was confident enough in himself to take the time to learn what I needed – someone who knew the difference between being dominant and domineering. If I disrespected him or the rules we'd agreed on Mike was quick to correct me. But, he also knew the bratty side of me who would give him crap just for the sake of, well, giving him crap.

  One type of crap I knew would lead to punishments (for corrections sake) and one I knew might lead to funishments (for the sake of having fun). With Mike I always knew where we stood with each other. That was comforting.

  What more could a woman ask for? For me, that is definitely a rhetorical question.

  The night had been wonderful: a light dinner served with my favorite Chardonnay at a table overlooking the glistening waters of the bay and then dancing – if you could call the way he held me close to him dancing. He was a terrible dancer. I mean really bad. So, unless I danced for him (which he often requested), we would just sway together – around and around – while he breathed me in.

  Breathing me in. That’s exactly what it felt like he was doing when he held me.

  The instrumental version of ‘My Drug’ by Anthony Mossburg had finished playing in the restaurant and I’d taken Mike's hand and pulled him off the dance floor. We’d already paid the check so he escorted me to the elevators. Once inside, I leaned down a bit and gently kissed him. His brown eyes were bright but I intended to make them brighter before the night was over.

  The elevator doors opened and a distinguished looking couple joined us. They too were going UP so I reluctantly stopped kissing my guy. Standing silently beside him, I slipped my hand into the crook of his arm and smiled contentedly.

  Mike asked which floor he could choose for the couple and, seconds later, all of us were on our way.

  As we ascended, the couple began chatting and it was only then that I took note of the size of the elevator. It was positively cavernous. I’d heard of large elevators but this was almost ridiculous – it could probably hold at least thirty people. Then again, we were in a hotel known for parties so it made sense to transport as many people as possible.

  My attention was abruptly drawn away from the size of the elevator when I felt Mike’s hand slip onto my lower back and lazily trace down to my bottom. It was all I could do to keep myself from jumping and calling unwanted attention to us. Just as the elevator arrived at the destination of the couple he squeezed my cheek and, I think, the woman saw him do it. I blushed.

  As the couple walked out, I shot him a warning look that I hoped said, ‘Be careful.’ He moved closer to me so that we were separated by only an inch or two. That and a single raised eyebrow was his only response to my warning glance. Without uttering a single word I knew what he meant... ‘Don’t worry.’

  The elevator doors closed and I mentally willed the car to hurry up to the floor our room was on. Unfortunately, we were close to the top of the nearly 70 floor hotel and, as luck would have it, only one floor later the door opened again. To my dismay people poured in and we backed up towards the rear of the elevator. Ugh! We were going to be delayed getting to our floor.

  This was definitely one of the groups our elevator was meant to transport. All of those who'd just entered were in their mid-20's to early-30's, most seemed to be a least one or two sheets to the wind and all of them were talking to each other – loudly. Well, all except for one.

  One of the men in the group, a big man – well over six feet and two hundred pounds – with a crew cut (military most likely), caught my eye and began looking me up and down. Suddenly I felt like a caged animal being watched by the hungry eyes of a hunter.

  I looked down to avoid eye contact with him and began to nervously fidget. Glancing up a few seconds later (hoping his attention had been diverted by something or someone else) I saw him still staring straight at me. The salacious grin on his stubbly face made me more than a little uncomfortable.

  I so wanted to stare back at the man, to show him he didn't frighten me. But, even if I had been able to maintain eye contact, I'm certain he would have seen through my display of false bravado.

  Have you ever met someone who made you feel like you were an object, not a person... someone who intimidated you and knew they were intimidating you – and relished it?

  That's how I felt. Even though people were crowded around us it felt like he and I were the only ones in the elevator.

  Without warning the elevator jolted upwards and, at the exact same time, Crew Cut started inching his way towards me.

  My pulse quickened.

  I tried to back up but I was already up against the rear wall of the elevator. There was nowhere to go.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Mike, whom I'd completely forgotten about, move even closer to me and wrap his arm around my waist. Crew Cut didn’t notice Mike or, if he did, he didn’t care. Turning sideways the big man burrowed through another guy who had been standing in front of him – he was heading straight for me.

  My heart was beating hard. I wanted to move toward Mike, to scoot against him. But, suddenly, Mike wasn’t by my side any longer.

  Moving in front of me, Mike stepped forward and unceremoniously pushed a man out of his way. The man, who'd been chatting up a young girl, turned and glared at the side of Mike's head.

  In a sharp, loud voice he reprimanded Mike, “What the fuck are you doing, asshole?”

  Only a few in the crowd seemed to notice the outburst but even they didn't pay much attention to what was taking place and continued talking to others.

  With an aggressive shove the man leaned into Mike's shoulder in an attempt to regain his spot. Without even acknowledging the push, Mike took a half step forward and stopped. Standing directly in his path, he stared into the eyes of Crew Cut.

  I couldn’t see the front of Mike's face but I did see the side of his lip and the bottom of his nostril. They were twitching – like a silent snarl.

  For a moment everything stopped. Time fro
ze.

  A scenario went through my mind where Mike and Crew Cut began fighting. The situation in my imagination ended with Mike bloodied and on the floor.

  I wanted to say something. I wanted to pull Mike out of the way and hope the doors opened before Crew Cut reached us. But, I couldn’t. There wouldn’t have been enough time. Besides, I knew Mike well enough to know he would have ignored my pleas and that any attempt to manhandle him would have simply been ignored.

  Slowly, time began going forward again.

  Even while he was still making his way towards me, Crew Cut’s face tilted slightly down to look at Mike. Their eyes locked and something – puzzlement, I think – washed over the big man's face as he looked at the snarling man before him.

  Then, Mike took a quarter-step forward, his eyes never leaving the man’s face.

  Hesitation replaced puzzlement. Crew Cut’s forward momentum stalled. The two men in front of me were locked in a staring contest.

  An evil grin appeared on the larger man’s face and, slightly shaking his head from side to side (as if he knew what the outcome of a confrontation would mean for anyone standing in his way), he started to step forward once more.

  Remembering the thought of Mike being bloodied, I cringed.

  Without any hesitation whatsoever, Mike stepped forward at the same time as Crew Cut. I saw an expression of incredulity on Crew Cut’s face. But, he stopped in mid-step.

  Less than two feet separated the men when the doors to the elevator opened. The others in the elevator, oblivious to any conflict (with the exception of the man Mike had rudely pushed out of the way – who flipped his middle finger into the air without looking back), began filing out.

  Mike didn’t move. His expression, from what I could see, never changed.

  Crew Cut’s face went blank and he side-stepped out of the car with everyone else – the look on his face gave me the impression of someone who didn't really know why they were walking away but that they were really happy to be doing so.

  Just before the doors closed Crew Cut looked once more at me and then at Mike. Then it was over.

  Mike turned to me, winked and moved back to my side. He took my hand in his and we rode the rest of the way to our floor in silence. Even though I was, literally, shaking, Mike seemed to have already forgotten about the incident.

  Less than a minute later we were at our room. He opened the door and allowed me to go in first. I raced inside and tossed the jacket I was wearing in the air. I didn’t care where it landed.

  In my ‘real life’ I would never have ‘littered’ a room by chunking clothes willy-nilly in such a devil-may-care fashion. But this was a vacation from reality – a tiny microcosm of what I wish could be my regular life. Also, my nervousness had diminished and I felt a burst of energy brought on by all the adrenaline pumping into my veins.

  I spun around and asked Mike, “What would you have done if that guy had kept coming?”

  His answer was as nonchalant and as matter of fact as anything I’d ever heard, “I’d have gotten my ass kicked. But, he wouldn’t have gotten to you.”

  A broad smile spread across my face. If Mike knew how hot that simple statement made me... he would have blushed.

  Turning, I kicked off the heels I was wearing.

  I heard Mike coming up behind me. Just before he reached me, I spun around and pushed him away with my fingertips.

  I wanted to play.

  Smiling a big, goofy grin that quickly turned into a pooched out bottom lip, Mike played along by acting as if he were hurt by my rejection.

  I danced over to the Infinite Radio Band mini speaker that sat on the bedside table and told it to play ‘Spiral’ by Jamie Woon. Moments later the mellow sounds of Woon’s percussive guitar filled the room.

  Then, I began dancing by myself... for me – which was really for Mike.

  Minutes flew by as I twisted and turned, kicked my feet in the air, took Mike by his shoulders, sat him on the bed and then began slithering out of the slinky, black, one-shoulder bodycon midi dress I had worn for the evening.

  Jamie Woon sang to us, “Come on and make my heart a dancer. I wanna hear not another word spoken…”

  The top of my dress slipped below my breasts. Mike’s eyes roamed over my topless form and his gaze penetrated me to my core. A bolt of electricity shot through the entirety of my body. As scared as I had been on the elevator not ten minutes before, I was now just as turned on.

  Leaning forward I pushed my breasts together with my forearms and pressed them into Mike’s face. I felt his tongue flick out and touch my skin. Pinpricks of lust tickled my insides.

  Stepping back, I turned away from him, pulled my dress down to my ankles and gyrated my ass in his face. Before I could move away he grabbed my waist and bit my buttcheek playfully.

  Turning once again so my eyes were looking into his, I straddled his leg and pressed my body onto the top of his thigh. He nuzzled my neck with his face.

  My hand slipped between his legs and I felt his hardness.

  From the speaker came Freddie King’s version of ‘I Just Want to Make Love to You.’

  I began dry humping my man’s leg. Putting my hands on his shoulders I looked into his eyes and saw his hunger building. He must have seen my own hunger because he reached out and kissed my lips faster than I could pull away. After he’d caught me off-guard with his kiss I turned my head away. I wanted to tease him until he had no control.

  His strong hands wrapped around my waist and slid to my hips. Raising his foot off the floor he pushed his leg firmly between my thighs. I began to grind harder.

  Freddie’s old school voice filled the room, “Well I can tell by the way that you twitch and walk / See by the way that you baby talk / Know by the way that you treat your man…”

  Breath began rattling down my throat in short gasps. Heat emanated from between my legs. Mike’s kisses showered my neck.

  I placed his hands on my breasts and he cradled them as if they were the most precious porcelain ever created. I watched as he raised one and then the other to his mouth and began circling my areolas with his tongue. Soft lips enveloped my nipples and, as he pulled them deeper into his mouth, it felt like he’d found a string buried deep within my belly and started teasing it out of my body.

  My knee gently grazed his groin and pushed against the erection that strained at his zipper. Mike moaned and pushed his hips forward.

  Rising from his leg I kissed his cheek and neck. Positioning my body between his thighs I held onto the collar of his shirt and lowered myself to my knees. Looking up at him I saw his eyes widen and flash.

  Suddenly I pulled down on his shirt and ripped it open.

  I was as surprised at myself as he was. A button whizzed past my face and another bounced off a wall.

  I was horny as hell!

  Still holding onto his shirt I raised myself up and gently kissed his furry chest and belly. My fingers dropped to his belt and then to his zipper and in moments I had them both open. Grasping the sides of his slacks I yanked on them harder than I meant to. His butt slid towards the edge of the bed and he had to grab hold of my shoulders to stop from toppling onto me.

  His penis, rigid and hard, peaked over the top of his underwear. My tongue touched the tip of his manhood and I lapped up the precum that flowed from it. As my lips slipped over the tip he thrust forward trying to get further into my mouth. I followed his thrust backwards – refusing to let him any deeper into my mouth until I was ready for him to be there.

  My thumbs pushed on the sides of his dick and went down, taking the front of his briefs with it. Securing the material beneath his testicles I pushed his chest away from me until he was holding himself up with his palms.