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DASHA
“Stop stressing, Dashenka,” Alex murmured in my ear. “This is meant to be fun.”
He rolled his hips lazily, and his cock hit that spot deep inside me. A ripple of pleasure made me gasp, but no matter how much I wanted to stay here in Alex’s bed forever, naked and slightly sweaty, he’d still have to hurry this up.
“I am having fun. Aren’t you having fun?”
“You just checked your watch.”
“I’m meeting Paulo for breakfast at eight.”
“Text him and say you’re not going.”
“For what reason? Darla never cancels plans.”
“Tell him…” Alex twisted my head and played dirty with a searing kiss. “Tell him you’re with me.”
“Darla isn’t a ‘sex on the first date’ kind of woman.” I glanced at my watch again. “Which means you have eighteen minutes to finish.”
Because I needed seventeen to shower and dress and thirty-four to drive back to the hotel. Well, Darla needed thirty-four. She didn’t speed either. In fact, she was the most boring person on the planet. What was life without a little sin?
“Paulo will be late.”
“Paulo has many, many faults, but tardiness isn’t one of them.”
“He went out with Bradley last night. Five bucks says he’s late.”
I wanted to lose that bet, but at the same time, I didn’t. On the one hand, losing wasn’t a favourite pastime of mine, but on the other hand, I’d become addicted to Alex-induced orgasms. If I used dry shampoo rather than washing my hair and made dubious calls at stoplights, I could shave off five minutes, which meant… Alex’s hand found its way between my legs, and fuck, the man knew precisely what to do with his fingers. He didn’t just play dirty, he played filthy.
“I’ll tell Paulo I got lost on the way to the dining room,” I blurted.
“Good idea.”
“Don’t think this is a sign of weakness.”
“I would never think that.”
“Because I’m not?—”
Alex’s arm banded around my waist, and a second later, he flipped me onto my knees and thrust into me hard. Motherfucker. I hated being caught off guard like that, and if anyone but Alex tried that shit, he’d wave goodbye to body parts. But this was Alex. I bit my lip, stretched the kinks out of my back, and let him fuck me into the damn mattress.
* * *
Darla was twenty minutes late. I hurried toward the hotel dining room with excuses on the tip of my tongue—the elevator took an age to arrive, all the corridors looked the same, some fool directed me the wrong way—only to find my magenta-haired assistant conspicuous by his absence. Had he been and gone? Unlikely. The last time we’d eaten breakfast at the Black Diamond, Paulo had piled his plate high with everything from the buffet except scrambled eggs—he complained that they reminded him of brains, although they didn’t look like any brains I’d ever seen—and then he’d troughed down just over half of it and spent the rest of the morning complaining that he felt sick. It was possible he’d learned from past mistakes, but I doubted it.
And now I owed Alex five bucks.
“Can I get you coffee, ma’am? Or tea?” a server asked after I’d taken a seat. Back to the wall, facing the door, next to the emergency exit. “Toast or an omelette?”
“Just a black coffee.”
“Americano, espresso, lungo, ristretto, red eye, or regular?”
“Regular.”
“Arabica or robusta?”
Did I look like the type of person who cared? The difference was negligible anyway, but I gave a dumb giggle.
