A Sharp-dressed Man

By Lawrence Montgomery

Mari, a lovely but dissatisfied person has a small fetish. She loves a well-dressed man. So when such a man takes her in hand, right off the street, and leads her to his apartment, she simply can’t help herself. The mysterious Mr. Roberts pampers her, dresses her, and then guides her to the Aeyrie, an exclusive club where each level is devoted to a sensual delight. Starting with the sense of taste and a shocking and voyeuristic experience with a woman in the next booth, Mari is taken from level to level, finding out more about herself, the Aeyrie, its inhabitants, and Mr. Roberts himself. How then, is she able to resist him when, at the topmost level, he finally takes her and confesses his love and a secret: He’d been observing her for months and making sure she had the perfect experience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spero Publishing
• Release date: Jul 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781944956073

Book preview

A Sharp- Dressed Man

An Aeyrie Story

By

Lawrence

Montgomery

A Sharp-Dressed Man, An Aeyrie Story

by Lawrence Montgomery

Siento Sordida

A division of Caliburn Press, LLC.

P.O. Box 8747

Madison, WI 53714

www.eternalpress.biz

Digital ISBN: 978-1-944956-07-3

Print ISBN: 978-1-1944956-06-6

Cover art by: Dawné Dominique

Copyright 2013 Lawrence Montgomery

Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

Worldwide English Language Print Rights

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To Kitten, my muse and a woman who loves a well-dressed man.

My thanks to Casey, who gave me the idea for this particular story.

Chapter One

Unavoidable

Mari stood on the street corner, waiting for the light to change. Her eyelids drooped, and she hung her head for a moment, trying to ease the tense muscles in her neck.

Ten blocks down…five to go, she murmured. You can make it.

She forced her way through the thick, city air. Thick, hot, and muggy, it clawed at her and slowed her down.

Mari spent some idle moments looking at the people next to her, and those across the street. Most of them wore the same, wilted look she imagined she did. Suits, dresses, blouses, and dress shirts reduced to limp hangings of fabric.

The light changed, and the young woman crossed the street, glancing at the men in the idling cars as they tracked her with their eyes. She smiled to herself and took a moment to toss her hair, straighten her posture, and throw her shoulders back.

Still, the warm, exhibitionist glow faded. By the time she reached the end of the block, she felt wilted again. Mari pushed back a limp lock of hair and examined it. Instead of the usual, glowing auburn, it seemed almost grayish brown. Considering changing her shampoo and conditioner, she raised her gaze from the heat-shimmering pavement and looked across the street.

A man stood there, looking at her.

Mari stared back, a slight electric shock buzzing from the crown of her head down to the tips of her toes. The buzz seemed to stop and linger at every erogenous zone she possessed, as she ogled the handsome man. Mari’s gaze ran over his attire. He wore a fine suit of dark gray fabric, well-tailored, and crisply pleated.

The young woman swallowed, and the man smiled slightly, sweeping his jacket open and hooking his thumb into his pocket. Mari felt a twinge of embarrassment as his eyes met hers, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. The suit didn’t merely hang from his body. It moved with him, the soft fabric folding against him and sliding across him as if choreographing every flex and turn.

Mari swallowed. That suit moved with him like she suddenly wanted to.

The light turned green, and the man started across the street with a brisk stride. He fished a phone from an inner breast pocket and fiddled with it as he walked. He raised it to his ear, and his eyes locked on Mari, again.

The young woman gazed at him. Some small part of her brain chided her for being an idiot, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to watch him—watch the suit move with him. As he got closer, she could make out what he was saying.

Yes…yes, I know. Move the meeting to four-thirty, then. That should give me enough time to meet with Evans. Yes…that’s right. Unavoidable. Extend my apologies to the Matsushita group…

The man paused, right next to Mari. A light, woodsy scent—the man’s cologne—filled her nostrils. He turned his head and looked into her eyes. Mari tried to take a step back, but her feet would not move. She merely swayed in place as the man smiled at her. Don’t worry. Things won’t self-destruct by Thursday.

He took her lightly by the upper arm while he finished his conversation. Turning her around, he relieved her tired hand of her groceries. This liberty surprised Mari, and before she could respond, they were already walking.

Now, wait, she finally managed.

The man sheathed his phone in an inner pocket and smiled. My apologies, he said. The warm, low tones of his voice melted the uncomfortable lump of ice forming in Mari’s throat. It’s a warm day, and you looked like you could use some assistance.

The young woman gazed into this strange man’s face. For some reason, she was captivated by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. A light pressure on the small of her back indicated he had rested his hand there.

Part of her resented this gesture of familiarity; however, most of her screamed with arousal. She walked in a daze, compliantly allowing him to lead her.

He glanced down at the shopping bag and frowned. It wasn’t health food—a couple of frozen convenience meals, several ramen packages, and a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream which, if experience was any teacher, the sweltering weather was turning into soup.

It’s not mine, Mari blurted suddenly. I got it for my roommate. She’s expecting me.

Mari’s sudden companion looked at her for a moment, and then dropped the bag into a trash bin.

Hey!

It wasn’t your roommate’s. It’s yours.

The confidence in the man’s statement stopped Mari’s outrage short. Ah…well, she stammered.

You don’t trust me, the man sighed. Fair enough. You have no idea who I am. He smiled and bowed slightly. Roberts, at your service. Born in Tempe, Arizona. Schooled at the University of Arizona and Harvard School of Business. His eyes crinkled again in apparent humor. I also enjoy Neapolitan ice cream… at least, when it’s frozen. Dog person, but living in the city… He shrugged. And I happen to live…right here.

The man, Roberts, stopped and gestured at the luxury apartment building the pair had reached. A doorman smiled and nodded at the man, opening the door for him. He also nodded at Mari, touching the brim of his cap. Afternoon, Mister Roberts, Miss.

The man in the dark suit let go of Mari’s arm, smiled, and nodded back. Hot enough for you, Bill?

Bill the doorman chuckled. Not too bad if I stand right here, he said. Air from inside blows over this spot pretty well. Bill’s heavy, formal uniform couldn’t have been comfortable in that weather, regardless of how much cooled air blew by.

I’ll have Charlotte send down an iced tea for you. Much appreciated, Mister Roberts!

Mari watched the man’s backside as he stepped past the doorway, and she noticed a subtle, slightly darker herringbone pattern woven into the fabric of his suit. She came back to herself with a start. She realized up to this point, the man in the suit led her there. Now, it was up to her to follow. She swallowed as he glanced back over his shoulder with an expectant look. Then, in a sudden rush of resolve, the young woman squared her shoulders and stepped from the muggy, street air into the cool, air-conditioned building.

The man…Roberts…smiled.

Chapter Two

Insufferable

Mari looked around the foyer of the building with a slight sense of surprise. The usual elevators were there—at the back— but a subtle, elegant fashion appointed the rest of the area. A scattering of padded chairs and a small sofa graced the room, as well as a couple of glass and wrought iron end tables. The coffee table, generally the center of a typical living room arrangement but moved aside, supported a telephone and an assortment of dried flowers close to the elevators and underneath an ornate mirror. The chairs and sofa faced a large, stone fireplace. Mari took all this in at a glance as she followed the man in the suit. She knew he must be well-off. As if the neighborhood wasn’t evidence enough, the clothing he wore was ample proof he enjoyed, and appreciated, some of the finer things in life.

Mari suddenly felt self-conscious and downright scared. She heard stories of successful men who brought excitement into their lives by preying on others. She was also conscious of how she herself looked.

She glanced in the mirror hanging over the coffee table and winced at the sight of her limp, stringy hair weighed down with the grime of the city. She wore a faded, pink jogging suit with white side panels, and she hadn’t bother with makeup. On her day off, there was no reason to primp.

At that moment, the man looked back at her and noted she’d paused. He smiled and addressed her for the first time.

If you would like to freshen up, I’d be more than happy to offer my place.

Mari stared at him and nodded, cursing herself for acting like such an idiot. Surely, this man must think her either mentally handicapped or as vacuous as one of those bleached-blonde, TV game show assistants.

Mari reassured herself she was neither, mentally ticking off her advantages. Finishing up my Masters in Psychology at a prestigious university…Top of my class, and the top of my game, academically. Well read, healthy, and well rounded…And…I’m sexually adventurous. She should have had no problem finding someone suitable as a companion.

She often went to bars and clubs with her cadre of girlfriends and almost always left alone, disappointed in the handsome, fashionable, and always dull, stupid men she found there. In contrast, the academics and fellow students at her school seemed unable to match their socks without help from their mothers.

Still…Mari sighed. There had been one or two. Good dressers, intelligent, and sexy as all hell. Men who possessed her and took her…made me theirs in almost every sense of the word…She blushed as the man, Roberts, pressed the button for the elevator. Images…memories of nights she’d spent with her face in the sheets, her hands clawing at the bedspread, screaming her passion into the covers as the man on top of her coaxed, pulled, and wrenched their pleasure from her