A Touch Of Conscience

By Elaina

Morales Pittman prowled the Las Vegas casinos each night looking for his next wealthy victim. He spotted her as soon as he walked into the crowded atmosphere of the Luxor Hotel. Through the smoky haze he saw blonde hair piled into an elaborate coiffure on top of her head. Her svelte body was long and graceful, draped from one shoulder in an evening gown of a light shade of royal blue. Beautiful, dressed to the nines, and dripping in diamonds, she stood at the Roulette Wheel. She was his target for the evening, without a doubt.

He wished for a moment he had worn his tuxedo, but if he left to change now, he might not find her again. His slim-fitting black slacks and white silk shirt would have to do. His graceful stride carried him quickly to her side. He watched for a while to assure himself that she was alone. She won nearly every time, but she didn't appear to be enjoying herself. Her beautiful, blue eyes looked his way every few seconds, but they didn't show any emotion. What fun it would be to bring the light of passion to them…for a short while, at least.

She glanced at him again, and he smiled and winked. He thought he saw a twitch at the corner of her mouth. This might be easier than he first thought. He moved a little closer and their shoulders touched. She smiled slightly, encouraging him even more and he placed his hand on her shoulder. "How do you do that?" he asked innocently, "I never win at Roulette."

"I guess the secret is that I don't try hard. I don't care if I win, I'm just passing time," she answered as her number came up again.

Each time she put money down, she won. Her pile of chips was getting bigger by the minute, and so were his expectations of the evening to come. His mouth almost watered as he watched the money pile up. His hand moved from her shoulder to her waist, and soon she was leaning into him, whispering in his ear between plays. She smelled so good, and from his vantage point, he had a nice view down the front of her dress. Muy bien…this would be a good night.

She suddenly placed her hand on his thigh, and he sucked in a breath so hard he choked. With eyes watering, he pretended he was laughing.

She soon tired of Roulette, and began to gather up her chips, looking around for a place to cash them in.

"Let me help you," he told her, reaching to help scoop up some of the chips. He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her through the crowds toward the cashiers' window.

"Cash, please," she told the cashier. She slipped the tall stack of $100 bills into her small handbag.

Morales could barely conceal his delight with her choice. "Do you have a safe in your room?" he asked as innocently as he could manage.

"Yes, I do. Will you come with me?" she smiled up at him with her flirtiest eyes and a mesmerizing smile.

"Lead the way, Cariña."

He followed her through a bar where a band played Salsa music. As they crossed the corner of the dance floor, he swept her into his arms and expertly guided her through the tricky steps. She was laughing and breathless by the time the music stopped.

The sad, expressionless face was gone and he was enchanted by the joy and amusement reflected there now. They left the bar and continued to her room. His conscience prodded him slightly because of what he intended to do to her, but he ignored it. He was an old hand at this.

She handed him her key card. He slid it smoothly into the slot and pushed the door open.

She sat her purse on the dresser and turned to him, "Thank you for your help, are you hungry?"

"I could eat something, would you like to go out? Maybe go dancing?" He wasn't sure if he wanted her answer to be 'yes' or 'no'.

"I thought we could order room service and watch a movie, if you'd like to. My favorite Antonio Banderas movie is on tonight."

"Oh, which one is your favorite?"

"Whichever one is playing is my favorite," she grinned. "You remind me of him, you know? Even your voice and your accent sounds like him."

"Really?" he looked skeptical. "A few people have told me that already, but I didn't believe them."

"You should, believe them I mean, the resemblance is uncanny," she said, studying him from the top of his head to the souls of his soft leather boots.

"Maybe we could pretend I am he," he winked at her again and placed his hands on her rib cage, pulling her closer.

She smiled, pushed away gently, and picked up the phone, "Yes, that might be fun. What would you like from room service? Something light since it's getting late?"

"Paella and wine would be wonderful, do you think they have it?" he asked, hopefully.

While she ordered, he turned on the TV, then arranged the small table and chairs cozily in front of the window.

"You're lucky, they have Paella on their menu. The order will be here in a few minutes. Would you like to sit down while we wait?"

"I would rather dance with you again," he lowered his head and looked up at her from beneath his dark brows. He gave her his most seductive smile and opened his arms as his knees bent and he swayed back and forth as if he was holding her.

"We don't have any music," she held herself back with some effort.

"How can you resist me, I'm Antonio Banderas," he reminded her.

"Yes, I know, and it's not easy to resist you," she laughed at his silliness, then a more serious expression flashed across her face. "I don't know what got into me. I just realized that I've invited a total stranger to my room."

"Do I look dangerous, Cariña? I would not hurt a beautiful woman," he said in disbelief. "Or an ugly one either," he teased. "Let me show you what a gentle person I am, si?" He took both of her hands in his, then lifted them to his shoulders. Very slowly and lightly he let his fingertips trail from her wrists down the inside of her arms until they brushed the sides of her breasts. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, and she leaned into his chest. His hands continued their journey around her back and he pulled her closer. His lips were at her ear, whispering soft Spanish words that conveyed their meaning without her understanding them.

Soft as the flutter of butterfly wings, his kisses moved down the curved white column of her neck and over her bare shoulder. One arm held her snugly against him and the fingers of his other hand tickled the skin on the back of her neck, sending shivers through her with every light touch.

His lips were moving again, from her shoulder, slowly back up the side of her neck, inside her ear…a slight touch of his tongue, on and on, beneath the smooth line of her jaw, closer and closer to her lips. He groaned and lifted his head far enough to look at her upturned face. His fingers moved from the back of her neck to softly trace her cheek from her closed eyelid to the corner of her mouth. He placed one finger in the middle of her lower lip, opening it slightly, then gently covered her soft, pink mouth with his.

She held her breath throughout his potent assault on her senses. Her knees were wobbly and her body swayed. He held her up as he continued kissing her. Her lips opened, inviting his entry, and he tasted the sweetness of her mouth. His right arm moved down behind her knees and he lifted her up against his chest.

Knock, knock! "Room service."

Morales let her legs slide back down his body to the floor, but he couldn't let go of her yet. "Ayyyyy! Dios mio! Are you still hungry? We could send him away," he whispered hopefully.

"I think we should eat," she replied, getting some of her control back. She motioned for him to get the door.

The waiter entered and placed their order on the table. Morales paid him for the food, and gave him a generous tip. The waiter thanked him, bowed, and backed out of the door.

She was seated at the table removing the covers from the food.

He sat down next to her and smelled the paella. "Not quite like home, but it will do. What would you like me to call you, besides Cariña?"

"I like the way you say Cariña, it's close enough," she smiled up at him through her lashes.

"So we remain Cariña and Antonio? It's nice to meet you," he joked.

They finished eating and set the tray outside the door.

"Now, will you give me another lesson in how gentle you can be?" she asked. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, sliding her hands up from his trim waist and flat stomach to his chest. Her hands kneaded his chest muscles, then followed his ribs down to his belt buckle. She ran her fingers under the waistband of his slacks and tugged on his shirttail until it hung free all the way around him. Once more her fingers roamed into the top of his slacks, smoothly sliding down inside the front. She felt him tense and heard the quick intake of breath. Once more she felt him tense as her fingertips crept beneath his shirt, across his hard stomach to the furry mat covering his chest. She found his nipples, circled and stroked them until they were hard and erect.

He took her hands in each of his and quickly ducked under his arm, spinning her around so her back was against his chest. His lips went first to her ear, whispering Spanish endearments, then down the side of her neck. With his arms around her waist and the back of her head snuggled into his shoulder, the tops of her soft, round breasts taunted him from the neckline of her gown. His fingers stretched down across her stomach and pressed her hips back harder against him, then they slipped upward to cup the fullness of her breasts in both hands.

He trapped the tender peaks between his thumbs and forefingers, working them through the fabric of her gown until she moaned and pressed even closer against him. He used his teeth to slide her gown from her shoulder, then pushed it down farther, sliding his fingers inside to free and weigh her breasts. He continued to tease and torment the sensitive tips with his fingers.

She felt the hardness of his arousal against her backside. Unable to stand it any longer, she turned and started to unbutton his shirt. She pushed it off one shoulder, then the other, running her fingers through the dark curls on his tanned skin. Bending slightly, she used her tongue to find his nipples embedded in the soft dark curls of chest hair. At the same time, she began walking him backward until his legs came in contact with the edge of the bed, toppling him on his back. She slipped the rest of her clothing down and stepped out of them while his warm brown eyes scorched her with their heat.

She reached for his belt, undoing it as quickly as her shaking hands would allow. She slowly slid his zipper down and he raised his hips off the bed to allow her to pull off his slacks and underwear. He kicked them off and she knelt between his knees. Starting at his ankles, she slowly ran her fingertips up the insides of his calves, past his knees, and on to the insides of his thighs.

His eyes were closed now. He held his breath, savoring the sensations she was rousing in him and anticipating where she would touch him next. She placed soft kisses along the inside of both of his thighs, following where her fingers had been. His fists clenched, his whole body was rigid with his effort to remain still. Her fingers crawled through his pubic hair, teasing, teasing, but not touching, there, not yet. She leaned over him, inserted her tongue in his navel, kissing and sucking. His manhood snuggled between her breasts, her hands moved across his hard stomach and up once again to torment his nipples. No longer in control, he reached for her waist and pulled her body slowly upward to cover his. Holding her body above him, he suckled each breast in turn, then blew softly on the wetness. His rock-hard manhood prodded between her thighs and he squeezed her breasts tightly against his chest and rolled with her onto her back. His tongue teased her nipples while his knees spread her legs apart.

"Please, please…" she groaned.

His fingers trailed down her stomach to the sensitive spot between her legs, testing her. She was thrashing beneath him now. "Are you ready, Mi Amor?" he whispered.

She lifted her pelvis up to meet him, guiding him, and he entered her slowly, pulled out part way, only to lunge again. She was whimpering now, her hands on his tight buttocks trying to press him closer. Deeper and deeper he penetrated with each thrust, whirling them into a vortex of passion the likes of which neither of them had ever experienced before. Gradually he increased the rhythm until he felt her shaking beneath him. He didn't try to hold back any longer. The long shuddering release came, stunning them with its intensity.

When their hearts stopped racing, he kissed her so tenderly that tears came to her eyes, slipping softly from the corners and running onto the pillowcase beneath her head. He gently brushed them away, and whispered "I know, I know."

Completely spent, he rolled off of her and spooned her body against his. He ran his fingertips over her entire body until she relaxed and fell asleep.

He didn't sleep, although he wanted to. He wanted to stay here in her arms forever. No, he had to get up, get dressed, steal her money, and leave. That's what he always did. This time it bothered him. He didn't want to do anything to hurt her. He promised her he wouldn't hurt her. They gave each other a wonderful gift, and he didn't want to ruin it.

Very carefully he pulled the covers over her sleeping form, placed a soft kiss on her hair and slid quietly from the bed. He pulled his clothes on and tucked in his shirt, still feeling the last hands that touched him there. He tugged on his boots, then sat in the chair watching her sleep. They knew nothing about each other. He didn't know where she lived, not even her name. This time he didn't want this to be the last time he saw her. At last he rose from the chair, found a piece of paper and a pen and wrote:

"Cariña", Mi Amor,

Gracias. I will never forget you.

"Antonio"

He glanced once at her purse, still sitting on the dresser where she left it. He checked his pocket for his keys, silently opened the door, slipped through it, checked the lock, and softly closed it again.