His expression accepts my answer at face value. "Why the necklace?"

  "Why not the necklace?"

  "It’s a choker."

  "Yes, it is. So?" I challenge his 'need to know' with my expression.

  "So, it can hide marks left behind."

  "Yes, it could." My expression remains steadfast and I let the innuendo stand between us. He breaks eye contact and looks at the door. My eyes remain on him. "But it won’t."

  He looks back at me with that face value acceptance expression. Again we come to some unspoken truce and after a few moments, he looks back at the door and my eyes follow. "Is it a collar?"

  "Yes."

  "So you’ve been claimed?"

  "Yes."

  His eyes turn to look at me, but I don’t look at him. He tells my profile. "That’s too bad." Then he looks back at the door. "As soon as Antonio called and offered me the job, I asked why? Why would Maximus need someone to run interference for him with the press? He never had trouble handling them before. Then I learned about you, but still I wondered why Maximus would need a full time publicist. The press will soon tire of your story. Then Antonio told me the reporters had been invited to the celebration this year and there is going to be an announcement. The rumor is that Zita is stepping down as CEO of the Liotine Oil Company and Maximus is going to assume the role."

  My eyebrows raise.

  "Ah! You didn’t know that."

  "No, I didn’t. I know he resigned from the Army, but didn’t know why. Are you sure?"

  "No, Zita is extremely tight lipped about the family business. She always has been. But that would explain why the press was watching for him to return to Rome." He laughs. "Then all hell breaks loose when they discovered he has not only returned, but with a stripper too." He laughs harder. "Antonio thought you were only a Cowgirl from Alabama."

  I chuckle with him. "I’m both."

  He says playfully now. "When I asked Antonio who the stripper was, he told me Seary." He nods his head. "I knew exactly who he was talking about. I spend a lot of my time in Vegas and I’ve seen you dance in Been Jammin’s." He smirks at me, but I keep my eyes on the door. His eye devour my hard nipples. pushing against the soft, semi-wet t-shirt. "I know you are untouchable there because I wanted a lap dance." He grins a wicked grin and I see that same intense look Aurei gets. The 'I will have it' look. Aurei’s is thunderous while Quintus’ is tumultuous. "And when I saw you here naked, I thought I would find out if that was the case away from work. Trust me when I say, only the knowledge that Maximus was behind that door kept me from touching your beautiful tits."

  I stare at the door knowing that is the truth, then I close my eyes, turn my face to his and open them. I look him in the eyes and tell him. "Quintus, Aurei and I are a real couple. It’s not a fling. We have a real commitment to each other." I reach up and touch my choker.

  He nods. "I know he’s selective and that choker means exclusive. Does he know you are a Vegas stripper or does he think you are only an Alabama Cowgirl too?"

  "He knows the truth. I shared all my secrets with him."

  "Did he know before Alabama?"

  "Yes, he saw me dance before too."

  He looks away, thinking and sounds sincere when he says. "That’s good." We both look at the door again. "Any advice on how I should handle them? The press? You obviously have a lot more experience at it."

  I grip the back of the railing and hunch my shoulders so my tits aren’t pushed forward. "I do have advice. #1. Know that reporters are sharks. Never trust them! Never! #2. You have to control their story. Always have one ready to feed them because if you don’t, they will make shit up and you won’t like it. The last thing you want is a feeding frenzy which is what it sounds like I stirred up when I blew them a kiss, but I didn’t know about the rumor. You’ll have to clean up my mess." I cut my eyes at him and he laughs. "#3. Make Maximus a hero in their eyes. The world needs more real life heroes. It won’t be hard because he truly is."

  "How do you propose I do that?"

  "Give them a Tony Stark." I grin at him, then crinkle my nose. "They will eat it up!"

  "Tony Stark? Ironman?" His surprise is evident.

  I laugh. "Tony’s a playboy, who plays by his own rules and isn’t bossed around by public opinion or them. He’s his own man. He does what he thinks is right and it usually is. He’s also very rich and he makes a difference in the world for good. The Hero." I look at him to see if he gets it. His perfect lips are puckered while he thinks about this. They are as kissable as Aurei’s. I look back at the door. "If you give them a hero, they will love and revere Maximus. #4. Manage his image, but don’t manage his life. Don’t offer advice or pass judgement on his choices. They need to be his. Good or bad. It’s his life to live. Who he fucks and who he has by his side isn’t the story." I look back at him and we smile at each other. "But...." I wink at him and whisper. "Tony Stark truly loves Pepper."

  "I see where you went with that." He grins. "Anything else?"

  "Lastly #5. Shift their focus. Give them a nugget of news." My eyes twinkle. "Introduce yourself as his publicist before the celebration. Flirt with them. Tease them. Make them love you too." I stare back at the door. "Then take charge of the narrative. Remind them the story is about their invitation and the mystery of the announcement. Not me. That’s a dead end story. Let them know that’s what you expect and if it’s not what you get, there will be hell to pay in access to you and therefore access to Maximus in the future." I look him in the eye again. "That’s about all I can think of right now."

  He smirks and blows his breath through his nose, then shakes his head. He looks over his shoulder at the sky and stands to leave. "Since your pool is closed, I’m going to head back up to the house before the rain starts again and the thunder wakes Maximus."

  I walk him to the steps and he holds his hand out for me to shake. For some reason I think of TD trying to touch me with a hand shake after I told him Rule #1 was no touching. I smirk at it, then take it. His smile tells me he knows I just trusted him.

  "It’s been a pleasure to touch you, Seary, the Stripper."

  "Siri Wright," I chuckle. "Quintus Liotine, it was nice to meet you."

  He holds my hand and his thumb strokes it. "I better go."

  His skin is warm and feels good against mine. "Yep, neither of us want to explain this meeting to the bear inside the cave."

  He drops his head and laughs. When he looks back up, he says. "It’s a damn shame I didn’t fuck you first." He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it tenderly, then he lifts my chin with it and steps up to stare into my eyes. "It’s a damn shame!" Then he takes a step back and says, "I can hear you calling me Daddy." He winks a killer wink, then he bounds down the stairs and out into the yard.

  My fingers play with my choker as I watch his fine ass strut away. Damn! He’s a Daddy Dom. When he’s half way across the yard, he stops, and turns a beautiful smile on me. I see the striking family resemblance now. "Don’t mention I was here."

  "Don’t worry. I won’t!"

  He takes a few more steps, then turns again. "Maximus chose wisely."

  I smile at him and he turns away. He takes a few more steps, and I call to him. "Hey, Quintus." He turns to look at me, laughing at our farewell, and a gust of wind blows his beautiful black curls. "You’re gonna kill it!"

  He puts his hand to his forehead and gives me a salute, then walks around the corner to the garage. I hear a rumble, then the garage door rising, then I watch his badass speed away on a Harley. I chuckle, "A biker! I love it!"

  One Hundred Ninety-Three

  I sink into one of the chairs on the porch and think about our truly complicated situation and the fact that it just got even more so with the news that Zita is handing over the reins to Aurei. What will his new job as CEO of the Liotine Oil Industry entail? We will just have to take our relationship step by step. I’m glad he’s hired Quintus though. He is fully capable of dealing with the media sharks and I know they will love him too, hungering and hanging on his every charming word. He is a fucking badass hottie! And even though I told Quintus I wasn’t the story, I know I will always be the story lurking beneath the story. The press will always be watching for me to fuck up, but I’m a badass hottie too and I know how the game is played. I chuckle. I got this.

  I take a deep breath, put my arms up in the air and stretch, then a big yawn takes over. I see My Fucking Golden God laying in the bed snuggling with his Titty Bare. Nap time. Gathering his pants from the porch railing, I go back inside. I slip quietly into the bedroom and gently close the door. Listening, I hear Aurei’s soft snores are still coming from the bed. I tiptoe back to the dressing room, take a hanger off the rack for his jeans, then take them to the bathroom and hang them up to dry. I return to the dressing bench and fold all our clothes, then take his shirt off and stack it neatly on top. I stop at one of the mirrors to give my body my habitual visual exam, checking for any little thing a dancer would consider a flaw. I smile when I see my collar. I know that I will never be unfaithful to Aurei. He’s my hero on so many levels. I leave the sitting room and walk to the bed confident and complete again in our Us.

  When I look down on Aurei’s angelic self, I realize that I’ve not examined him up close and extremely personal. I want to know every freckle, mole and birthmark you have, Mr. Moore. I want to know your body as well as I know my own. Let’s see what perfect perfection you truly are.

  Picking up his massive arms, I slowly remove Titty Bare from his grasp.When she slides free, I drop her over the edge of the bed and crawl back on my all fours to start my treasure hunt. He is snoring with a rhythm that says he is out cold.

  I low crawl down to his feet to start there. I sit Indian style and pick up one foot first, then the other and examine them. His toes are proportional, evenly spaced and curved down from big to small geometrically. His ankles are sharp and well defined. Strong bone structure. His feet are ... I giggle at the simple word that comes to mind ... normal. HA! They are not normal. They are perfectly proportioned! Come to think of it. I lean over and look at his entire body with an artist/architect’s eye. His body reflects the golden ratio! And his golden ratio pleases me aesthetically! I snicker, having to bite my bottom lip to keep quiet. He IS a Golden God! I look up at the door and smile. He is a Golden Bear!

  I set his perfect foot down and scoot my ass to sit at his thighs. His legs are beautiful, bulging beasts, with golden hair that curls and glistens. I keep scooting up on the bed to his torso. Ah! His golden torso! His dick lays limp against his hip and his scrotum is relaxed. I’ve seen it up close and already very personal and there is nothing less than perfection here. I’m tempted to lick him lengthwise, but he is sleeping so soundly I truly hate to wake him. There will be plenty of time for licks later. What’s that? I lean down and look close at his skin. I notice a small scar on his hip flexor muscle on his right side. It’s less than an inch long. One. I count. I get on my all fours again and continue my close examination. Making sure I don’t miss anything this small, I lean over him and put my nose inches off his skin again. I almost face plant onto his flat stomach and snickering hard, I lose it while I recover my balance. Hey, there’s a couple more. Curious now, I begin to look for these small scars that look more like nicks from a knife than an accidental injury. None are large enough to be noticeable without a close up inspection and none look anything more than a single slice from a sharp blade. By the time I am examining his right arm for them, I’m convinced they are battle scars. There are multiples on his right upper arm. I crawl around to his left side to search for them there. I find a larger one on the left side of his waist but that’s the only one on that side.

  Sitting on the bed now staring down on his perfection, I wonder how he got them and I wonder if he has any on his back. Knowing I will wake him if I try to flip him over just to look, I decide the best option is to give him a full body massage. Moving to sit between his raised arms, I position his head between my knees and place my finger tips on his temples, starting a soft steady, rotating motion. His snoring stops and a soft moan escapes, but he doesn’t wake. His breathing doesn’t change so I move the motion down his jaw. The scruff of whiskers is rough on my fingers. I continue down his neck and make my way to his pecs. Having massages on a regular basis as a dancer, I understand the knots that occur from overwork or just stress and when I arrive, I dig my fingertips into the plentiful meat and circle as I flex. He groans and his eyelids flutter, then he moves his arms down by his sides. I keep working the mass and he drifts back to sleep. When his perfect pecs are knot free, I roll them between my hands and increase the blood flow. He moans and I know I’m doing him some real good. Encouraged now more by his needs than my own curiosity, I move to his deltoids, then down his arms, repeating my massage technique. Hovering over his body, kneeling, I use my pole dancer core strength and grip to accomplish my goal. When I reach his hands, I put my thumbs on the meat of his thumb and dig in.

  "Ah!" Escapes from his mouth and I look to see if he is awake. I giggle silently, because the view he would see if he opened his eyes now is of my pussy hovering over his face, but he is still sleeping. I kneel back down and slide my hands up under his back and dig deep. He moans loud and opens his eyes. I lean down and peck his lips. "Roll over, please."

  He flips over so I can continue unimpeded. I knead and rub down the length of his spine while my eyes scan his skin. I am struck again by how broad his back is compared to how narrow his hips are. I see two more tiny scars. I shift my position to his side and kneeling over him, I mash my hands into his lower shoulder muscles while he moans occasionally when I hit a spot that feels particularly good. Grasping, gripping and gorging, my hands manipulate his massive muscles. Then I straddle him, sitting on his ass and I push then pull with the heels of my palms stretching his spine from his lower back just above his ass to his arching broad back. He exhales a groan and inhales a moan the entire stroke.

  The massage, which started as a way to simply examine his skin with the added benefit of touching him, has turned into an almost religious experience for me. Not only because I am kneeling, then bowing, but also because my energy is transferring into him. The healing strokes are melding my spirit to his, connecting us as I concentrate on his muscles and the feel of them underneath the surface of his skin. I can literally sense the knots of stress before I find them. Confirming them with my fingertips, I rub the tight tension, working to release them and relax him. When I feel good about the way he feels and his moans subside to soft snores again, I back off his ass and slide down to his thighs. I sit lightly on them as I drag my hands to his buttocks, and put the heels of my hands on each side of his ass. Leaning my full weight on them, I move my hands from inside to outside in a big circular motion over his entire fucking muscle, pinching and pulling it.

  "Ah! Damn." He whispers, then he constricts them and they become so tight I can’t move them.

  I have to wait for him to relax so I can continue. While my hands are inactive, I notice something so endearing it makes my eyes twinkle then tear up. There is a curly Q, a tiny cowlick, of golden hair on his lower left ass cheek right where the buttock ends and the leg begins.

  OMFGG! That is the cutest thing ever!

  I put my finger on it and roll it around. It’s too precious for words. Placing my hands on either side of his ass cheek, I manipulate it by squishing it.

  "Humph," he groans.

  "You worked these hard last night, didn’t you?" I ask him, then move to the other side.

  "Humph," he groans again.

  "I have to get you ready for a repeat performance tonight." I tell him as I work him over real good.

  "Ummhmm." He answers and eventually relaxes enough I can work the knots out.

  "That’s better," I whisper when I’m confident they are gone. I part his legs and move to sit between his calves. I rub his legs with a combination of long strokes and countering massage manipulation. I finish with his feet, bracing them one at a time against my breast while I rub his arches, the balls of his feet and between his toes with my thumbs. Gently laying them down when I’m done, I feel good I have made him feel good from head to toe.

  Admiring the view of his long, straight, thickly muscled legs, and his big muscular ass sticking up that blocks the view of his narrow waist, but not so high that it hides his broad, thick shoulders, I think, Adonis must have looked like this.

  Smiling at the view of his balls peeking out from between his legs, I take the tip of my finger and stroke the soft skin, teasing him. I’m surprised there is no response from him whatsoever. There is only his deep breathing and his soft, relaxing snore.

  He was one tired baby. I kiss his ass and roll my finger around his curly Q, then roll off the bed and retrieve Titty Bare. I lift Aurei’s arm, pushing her under him. He pulls her to him, and puts his head on her as he rolls onto his side.

  He is one sweet man.

  I make a quick pit stop back to the bathroom and notice when I pass that my clothes have magically appeared hanging on the rotating rack. My Black and Blue Baby is the first thing I see followed by my White Fox Fur.

  Good that means my bras are here too and we won’t have to bind my girls in the morning. But it also means someone hung them up! I def can’t walk around outside naked again.

  As soon as I reenter the bedroom, it turns dark and grey as the storm clouds block the sun. Walking to the French doors, I open one to listen to the song of the rain. It is pounding the ground. Going out onto the patio, I listen for a little while. My mind drifts to Piper and her comment when she left Vegas that she missed the rain. We were polar opposites, she and I. Probably why we got along so well. I love the sun, and she the rain.

  "The rain is cleansing." She argued with me.

  "It just makes me sad." I told her. Sitting there watching the rain, I slip into a melancholy mood.

 

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