The Mill House by Susan Lewis

a hotel.
    'You must be Mr Thayne,' the receptionist said, finding his name on the computer screen as he came in through the door, 'you're not the first to arrive. Third floor, room 307.'
    As the lift rose silently upwards, a dark mirror was showing him the reflection of a man who despised himself for being here, even though he could already feel the anticipation building. He thought back to the times when Julia had waited
    for him in hotel rooms, or restaurants, even taxi ranks, or cinemas, for they'd often pretended to be strangers meeting by chance as part of an erotic game that would end up driving them nuts with desire. In all their married life he'd never been unfaithful, had never even wanted to, though he'd never been short of offers. In spite of the rumours that he put it about all over town, no-one could ever point to someone he'd slept with, because until a few months ago there had never been anyone, except Julia.
    The first time it had happened, it had been as much for the physical release as to punish her for the way she was rejecting him, though of course she knew nothing about it. And God forbid she ever would, because it hadn't stopped where it should have, and though he promised himself every time it happened that this would be the last, it still hadn't quite worked out that way.
    Using the memory of last night's disaster to still his conscience, he tapped on the door of room 307, then pressed down on the handle and walked into the room. It was spacious, and bordering on the baroque with its ornately carved bedhead and old- fashioned furnishings - not the kind of place he'd normally associate with the woman he was meeting, for her style was much more minimalist and twenty-first century.
    She was standing with her back to him looking out of the window, her blonde hair twisted into an elegant roll at the nape of her neck, her arms folded in front of her. She wore a cream silk suit, matching high-heeled sandals and a perfume he knew well. As he closed the door and put his parcel
    down he could already feel the erotic charge in the air, but knowing how she liked to play it her way he said nothing, merely waited for her to turn round.
    Several more seconds ticked by until she drawled softly, 'Punctuality has its rewards,' and as she turned to face him she slipped off her jacket, leaving herself naked to the waist.
    Desire cut through him like a whip, but he only watched as Sylvia reached behind her to draw the clip from her silky blonde hair. As it tumbled around her shoulders she started towards him, her pale blue eyes moving over him like the burn of ice.
    'Is this a business meeting?' she said as she reached him.
    'If that's what you want,' he responded, and placed his hands over the small, perfect mounds of her breasts.
    She looked down to watch his fingers as they began toying with her nipples, pulling and squeezing, and rubbing them with his thumbs.
    'I could make you my agent,' she murmured, looking up at him, 'but it will depend on how you perform today.'
    'You know I'll do whatever it takes,' he answered gruffly.
    Her eyes narrowed with pleasure. 'That's what I like to hear.'
    He slipped a hand around her throat and tilted her head back to look at her. 'I've brought something for you,' he told her.
    She glanced at the parcel and recognising the name she said, 'I don't want to put anything on today. I just want to take everything off.'
    'Then don't let me stop you,' he murmured.
    As she unfastened her skirt she started to smile. 'I have a surprise for you,' she told him, and letting the silk slide down over her thighs she stepped out of it and back a few paces so he could see all of her.
    'Oh Christ,' he groaned, when he saw that the lips of her sex were as naked as the day she'd been born.
    She watched his eyes drinking it in, then lifting one foot onto a chair she said, 'Don't you want to touch it?'
    Going to her, he pushed his fingers between her legs, to find her already wet and ready for him to do