Ben and Samantha
The invitation had come from Deanne, which was what allowed them to take advantage. This morning, Deanne had come into Jonathan's office and asked him if he and Mrs. Hart would like to go to a casino party on a boat because the guy she'd been seeing, who had been the one to get the tickets, had dumped her. And Deanne was the one with the tickets.
Of course, Jonathan accepted. This was just the kind of thing they looked for, situations where no one would know them and they could have a little fun. He'd called Jennifer at the house immediately and told her. She was as excited as he was.
They'd gotten ready separately and would arrive separately, as was their tradition. Jonathan had Max take him in the Rolls, and Jennifer would take her Mercedes. Max would go back to the house, and they'd take Jennifer's car home after the boat got back to the dock.
Max parked at the dock right next to the Mercedes, which was already there. "Angle the mirror this way, would you, Max?" Jonathan requested.
"Here ya go, Mr. H," Max replied. He didn't talk much in the car this time. He never did when Jennifer and Jonathan had one of these nights. Max was supportive and loved them dearly, but Jonathan imagined this was what a parent felt like driving their teenaged kid to a date. That's actually kind of what Max was doing, after all. Only everyone knew exactly how this night would end for the Harts. There was a little more blissful ignorance with a teenager. Plenty of bliss for the Harts, but certainly no ignorance.
Jonathan checked his hair one last time. He was never sure how it would work out, but he was pleased with this one. He was eager to see what Jennifer thought.
"Goodnight, Max," Jonathan said, getting out of the car. "Get home safe, and we'll see you in the morning."
"Breakfast in bed around ten?" he asked out the window.
"Sounds great," Jonathan answered with a grin.
And with that, Jonathan Hart was gone, and Ben Matheson walked down the dock with his ticket in hand.
Inside the party, Samantha St. James brushed back one of her blonde curls as she eyed the cards in her hand. With a dark arched brow, she looked up to the dealer. "I'll take two, if you please."
She put down the two she was discarding and took the two she was dealt. Her heart jumped in her chest, but her face remained entirely the same: aloof and haughty. But she cheered inside when she saw that she made the exact right move in discarding that ace and jack. She was dealt a four and a six to go with the five, seven, and eight she had kept. Straight.
Samantha raised the first bet and then called the raise that came after hers. Two of the five players folded. Two men remained in the hand with Samantha. One of them had three nines. One had a pair of kings and a pair of twos. And Samantha put down her straight to take the pot. "Oh thank you so much, gentlemen," she said nonchalantly as she gathered all the chips.
"That was an impressive show."
She looked up to see a gray-haired man with bushy sideburns and piercing blue eyes standing by her chair. He looked very distinguished and very handsome. He smiled at her, and she felt butterflies in her stomach.
"Can I get you a drink while you play, Miss…?"
"Missus, actually," Samantha answered coolly. "Mrs. St. James. And I'd like a vodka martini, please."
Ben was taken aback by the fact that the lady was married. And that a bombshell blonde like that would be English. But she was beautiful and she was clearly ready to give him a run for his money. And wouldn't that be fun? "Coming right up."
Samantha realized she hadn't gotten the handsome stranger's name. But if he was coming back with a drink, she'd thank him and ask what to call him. For now, she focused on the game at hand.
She anted and looked at the new five cards she'd been dealt. Pair of threes and pair of tens. Not bad. She'd have to take her chances to get the full house. Though if she asked for one card, she'd telegraph that she had a possible full house, possible straight, or possible flush. Any one of which would put her in impressive stead. Perhaps she'd lay off the big bets this time and just call. Just to see.
After all, she wasn't here to play poker.
The first round of betting had ended when the handsome stranger came back with her martini. "Here you are, Mrs. St. James."
"Thank you, Mr….?"
"Matheson. Ben Matheson. Please call me Ben," he answered.
"Excuse me just one moment, would you?" Samantha turned away from him and asked for her one card. A three. She'd gotten her full house. Not a great one, but she wasn't about to be picky.
Ben stood behind Mrs. St. James and watch as she kept a perfect poker face and called the bets around her. She had a full house and didn't push her luck with it, which was a smart move, in his opinion.
Sure enough, she won the hand against a pair of aces. Everyone else had folded.
"Gentlemen, thank you ever so much for the amusing diversion. I think I'll let someone else have a go while I cash in my chips. Mr. Matheson, I mean Ben, do you think you could assist in carrying these stacks for me?" Samantha downed the last of her martini in a large gulp and stood up.
Ben got a look at what she was wearing for the first time. He was in a white suit and thought he looked pretty dandy, but she was in a killer green dress. The hazel of her eyes stood out with the emerald silk that flowed over her perfect slim curves. And when she turned, he saw the high slit up the side of the dress showing off the most incredible legs he'd ever seen. He could weep over those legs. A man his age should not be fixated on such things, but wowza!
She picked up her purse and walked away, leaving Ben scrambling slightly to pick up her chips and follow in her wake. He caught up with her by the cashier.
"Oh I do appreciate that, thank you," she said, her accent dripping with refinement as he deposited the chips on the counter for the cashier.
He stood by while she waited for her money. She'd done quite well.
Samantha swept the cash into her purse and turned to the silver-haired Ben. "Now then. The cards were quite nice for a time, but I do believe I fancy a dance. Do you dance, Ben?"
His blue eyes twinkled as he grinned. What a lovely smile indeed! He answered, "I would be honored to share a dance, Mrs. St. James."
After all, if she was married and asking if he danced, who was he to refuse.
They made their way to the floor of the ship deck where the music was playing. The boat was out in open water by now. The drinks were flowing, the cards and dice and roulette wheels were all hot, and anyone who wasn't gambling or drinking was busy dancing.
Luckily for Samantha and Ben, a slower song came on to allow the more athletic dancers have a bit of a break. And it let Ben take Samantha in his arms and hold her close while leading her in a gentle dance.
"So tell me, Mrs. St. James, what brings a lovely Englishwoman out here tonight?" Ben asked.
"I think you can call me Samantha now," she said.
He smiled again. "Samantha," he repeated. The name sounded nice in his voice.
She continued, "I'm here having a bit of fun. I'm a widow, you see, and now that the mourning period is over, I thought I'd get back to the business of living again."
"Did you love your husband very much?"
"I loved his money very much," Samantha responded without an ounce of apology.
Ben chuckled. "Oh, I see."
"We had a perfectly good marriage," she explained. "I got what I wanted, and he certainly got what he wanted."
"Which was?"
"Me."
Ben's hand slid down Samantha's back, resting at the very base of her spine, just at the curve of her bum, and she shivered at the intimacy of the contact. She could feel the heat of him through her dress. He whispered into her ear, "I bet you would be a very pleasing wife." Her knees nearly buckled.
But Samantha St. James, while elegant and perfectly posh in every way, was a woman who could give as good as she gave. And she was not as demure as her upbringing might suggest. She murmured quietly back to him, "I can be quite pleasing indeed, as I imagine you could be. The way you hold me and touch me while we dance makes me wonder how you'd hold me and touch me when you're inside me.
He was so shocked, he stumbled over his own feet.
Samantha wasn't quite done yet. "The way you move is intoxicating. I bet you've got gorgeous muscles under that beautiful suit and all the strength to show me what I missed all those years as an unsatisfied wife."
Ben was recovering now, and eager to join in the naughty game. "Tell me how you want me to touch you," he whispered back to her, pulling her body flush against him as they continued to dance.
"Squeeze my hips, run your fingers up my thighs and tease me between them. Do you have talented hands, Ben?" she asked breathlessly.
He was going to be shamefully hard by the time they finished this, but he had absolutely no desire to dissuade her. "What else?" he encouraged.
Samantha's mind was hardly able to form coherent thought by now. She pushed through to say, "I quite like that mouth of yours. I want to feel it on my breasts and between my legs and everywhere else. I want you to leave marks so I'll feel you hours later."
"Let's go home," he pleaded.
"We're on a boat, darling," she reminded him. "But I bet we can find a dark, quiet place somewhere."
"God, I love you," he groaned. He gave a subtle thrust against her so she could plainly feel what she did to him.
"Mmm," she hummed in appreciation. She took a quick nip of his earlobe as they danced their way to the edge of the floor towards an open door to the hallway inside.
Jonathan practically dragged her up into the first door he could find. Storage closet. Perfect. "Jennifer, I need you," he whispered desperately before he kissed her deeply, his tongue delving into her mouth.
"Yes, Jonathan, take me," she begged in between his ardent kisses. They couldn't do much in such a small space with the party right nearby, but that didn't deter them. Her nimble fingers found their way to his trousers, pulling down the zip so she could free his hardness. He moaned against her neck as she stroked him. He clutched her hips tightly as he sucked hard against her pulse point, eliciting a breathy groan from her.
"Please," she whispered, needing to feel him deep inside her.
Jonathan pulled away from her only enough to grab at the green silk and find his way around to that high slit to get to her body. She stood with her legs slightly spread so he could feel that her panties were dripping wet. With a sharp tug, he ripped the lacy fabric and balled it up in his hand to shove into his jacket pocket.
He then took her thigh and hitched it up over his hip and thrust into her. She shuddered in his arms from the suddenness of his entry. It took everything in him to hold off, to stay still while she adjusted to him. But as soon as she shifted her hips against him and exhaled in a pleasured sigh, he withdrew almost completely and pounded into her in earnest. She met his thrusts with her own, clutching the fabric of his jacket and clinging to him. Her hot breath on his neck was coming in high-pitched pants as he built her up higher and higher until she broke, shattering around him, her body clenching him in rolling waves of pleasure. His pace took on a frenzied rhythm as he followed her to ecstasy.
Their hearts were pounding as they breathed heavily, still holding one another tightly. Jonathan was softening inside Jennifer, but he couldn't bear to part from her just yet. She stood on one leg, leaning against him as her entire body buzzed from her release. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you," he replied breathily. Neither of their voices seemed to work, which was probably just as well.
But then Jennifer's leg started to cramp and she needed to separate from him. "Can I borrow your handkerchief?" she asked as their bodies uncoupled.
Jonathan handed her his pocket square so she could clean herself up a little. After all, she was wearing a silk dress with nothing underneath. He already knew from his hand on the loose open back of the dress while they were dancing that she wasn't wearing a bra. Now it was just the dress and nothing else.
"So, what now, Mr. Matheson?" she asked, straightening his tie and smoothing his lapel.
He helped readjust her wig into the proper position after he'd mussed it and answered, "Well, Mrs. St. James, since you did point out that we're on a boat, we've got to wait to make landfall. I think we ought to get a couple drinks and find some deckchairs and watch the dark ocean go by."
"A smashing idea," Jennifer answered with her fake British accent.
Jonathan chuckled. "What made you come up with the voice? And the hair? And the widow bit?"
She laughed, "Well, I had the wig already, and I was trying to figure out the character to go with it while I was driving out here. The merry widow seemed easy enough, but the voice felt like a fun part of the character. I was surprised you didn't have an accent this time."
"I thought the gray hair and sideburns were enough," he answered.
"That's true," she agreed. "And I do love the gray hair on you."
"Yeah?" he responded in surprise.
"Mmm," she hummed. "Gives me a preview of how you'll look when you do go gray. And I find you just as devastatingly handsome as ever."
Jonathan grinned proudly. "Good to know."
They snuck back out to the party but kept on the outskirts. Jonathan ordered them both martinis, and they wandered to a quite part of the aft. The lights of tinsel town were shining bright in the distance. Jennifer liked to glance at the way they reflected in Jonathan's blue eyes.