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“I’m Mara.” I stick out my hand, which seems hilariously formal and awkward after I do it, making another blush bloom across my cheeks. But John just places my drink into my hand and leans in until his lips graze my ear.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mara.”
I swear, if a guy could make you come with his voice alone, John is the one who would do it. Deep and baritone, it vibrates all the way through my body, making my thighs tighten and my belly clench. I shift a little closer to him as I take my a sip of my drink.
Wow. I never really thought of well drinks as that much different from the better versions, but after a night of crappy tequila and mixed vodka drinks, the difference is stark, even to my already-tipsy senses. This tastes miles better than any vodka cran or vodka and lime drink I concocted back in my dorm room with the cheapy bottles I could afford back then .
I raise my glass to toast John, and as they clink together, I grin at him. “So. Two hardworking non-partiers meet at a club… that sounds like the start of a joke.”
“Or the start of a very promising evening,” he murmurs, which makes me inhale, tense again, for all the right reasons.
Without waiting for me to finish the drink, John takes my free hand and leads me toward the dance floor. “I thought you didn’t club,” I call to him.
He smirks. “No. But that doesn’t mean I can’t dance.” With that, he shifts his arm to my waist, pinning me against him. I drape my arms around his shoulders, my drink still in hand, the cool glass pressed against his back. He does the same, and his cold glass chills the nape of my neck, making me shiver again—but also offering a welcome respite from the heat beginning to build in this club tonight.
I lean in close to him, and he shifts his hips against mine. I follow his rhythm, swaying with him. He wasn’t wrong. He’s a good dancer, which for some reason surprises me. But I follow, and he holds me closer, and I try to ignore the way I can feel him growing hard, his erection stiffening through the tight fabric of his pants. His cock is pressed right against my belly, digging into me hard enough that I can practically measure the length.
Huge.
I sway with him, and neither of us says a word about how aroused we’re getting, even though I know if I checked my panties right now, they’d already be soaked, and he’s barely even touched me.
John spins me around so my back is to him, and I move against him, getting into the rhythm. I take another sip from my vodka, and glance out across the floor, catching Lea’s eye. She flashes me a thumbs-up and raises an eyebrow, the universal girl code for “you all good?” I flash one back and grin so she knows my dance is 100% consensual and much enjoyed.
She winks and goes back to her own partner, the same cute guy I noticed her dancing with earlier.
The song fades and another one starts. Next thing I know, I’ve finished my drink. I lean back against him, going up on tiptoes to shout in his ear. “Another one?” I ask.
“Are you sure?” His gaze dances over to me, more amused than anything else. “You seem a little loose on your feet already.”
I narrow my eyes. “I am a grown woman, thank you very much. And I would like more of that delicious top shelf vodka of yours. Unless you’re going to make me go back to well…”
He laughs and catches my hand, pulling it to his lips. He kisses the back of my knuckles, then leans down to kiss my jawline, just below my ear. “I wouldn’t dare,” he whispers, his breath hot on my skin, tickling all over.
Then he weaves back through the club toward the bar, and right around there is where my night grows fuzzy…
There were other clubs. I remember that much. There’s a flash of a pub, with Lea and her boy in tow. Another club, this one with flashing strobe lights. I remember dancing with John again, his lips meeting mine for the first time, hard and insistent. He tasted just like the top shelf vodka—like the kind of quality kiss I’d never tasted before.
And he’s so damn hot.
There was more, I know that. Some kind of red room, lined in silk… a lot of cheering, balloons maybe? Or confetti? I don’t know. The next thing I remember is stumbling up to John’s room, by coincidence in the same hotel where Lea and I were staying, albeit definitely not on the budget floor where we booked. When he opens the door, I actually gasp aloud.
The penthouse is huge. There’s a jacuzzi in it, and a living room and kitchen connected to an even larger bedroom, with a comically huge bed. I barely have time to take it all in before John kisses me, and this time he doesn’t let up. I wrap my arms around his neck and arch up into him, my hips digging into him the way they did earlier when we danced.
His lips part mine, his tongue slips between my lips, and I lose myself in his taste, the feel of his hands gripping my hips, pulling me closer to him.
He hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, my pussy pressed right against his belt buckle, so I can feel the size of his hard cock as he walks me toward the bedroom. With every step, I can feel myself shifting against him, getting wetter, hotter, as he deepens the kiss.
A little voice in my head wants to second guess this. But it’s been so long since I hooked up with anyone, so long since I let loose and had some fun. This is Vegas, after all. This is what you’re supposed to do. So even though part of me wonders if I should be doing this, a bigger part yells shut up.
After all, tomorrow starts a new phase in my life. Tomorrow, my world is going to change. So tonight, I’m allowed to have a little fun, dammit.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. But it gets easier to stop worrying when John drops me on the bed, and pins me in place with one arm, kissing me again before he leans back to spear me with a heated glance. “Spread your legs,” he orders, and the man does not have to tell me twice.
I spread my legs as wide as they’ll go, and shiver with anticipation as he kneels at the edge of the bed and peels my panties off. When his hot lips touch the inside of my thigh and he starts to kiss his way up the sensitive skin, there’s not a shred of doubt left in my body.
I can let myself have this one night of fun. Tomorrow, everything will be different.
2
Mara
I groan. My mouth feels like there’s a gasoline soaked rag stuffed inside, and behind my eyes, there’s a headache throbbing in full force. I reach up to fling an arm across my fore
head, but the movement only makes the throbbing worse. Not to mention, the motion sends a wave of nausea through my body, and my stomach clenches, roiling from the simple movement. “Dear God, why,” I groan, forgetting where I am. Wanting nothing more than to make the aching stop.
“Take this,” murmurs an unfamiliar voice. One that immediately makes me slide my arm up off my eyes and crack my eyelids with worry.
Oh. Right. I forgot about him.
John sits on the edge of the bed, a knowing smirk on his face as he presses a glass of water and a couple of pills into my palm. I squint at them suspiciously until he chuckles. “Relax. It’s just Advil.”
I decide if he was going to drug me… well, he probably would’ve done that last night. Not that he needed to—I was all about the hookup. Flashes of it come back to me, and my cheeks burn from the memories. I have a fuzzy memory of riding him, my bra still on, screaming his name as he urged me to ride his fat cock, I believe were the words.
Blushing, I stuff the pills into my mouth and swallow them with several gulps of water. On second thought, I wind up draining the entire glass. Better safe than sorry.
Then I pass it back to him, wincing as another onslaught of memories reminds me how I knelt in front of him on all fours begging for his cock in my mouth. Or how he spanked me when he was fucking me from behind…
Damn. I’ve always had a lot of kinky fantasies, but I’ve never felt comfortable enough to actually act them out with anybody. Maybe because I’d never met John before and I knew nothing serious would ever come of our hookup—not to mention the fact that I’ll never see him again after today—I was able to let go and be less inhibited.
Either way, it was a damn good night, I know that much. But it’s also, in retrospect, very embarrassing. I can’t wait to slip out of here and find Lea, join her for coffee and swap conquest stories over brunch.
“Well, thanks for the painkillers, clearly needed, but I’ll—” I stop talking, realizing John has wandered off. Oh well. Probably for the best. I glance past the bed at the bathroom door, and the one look reminds me all over again how fancy this room is. What does this guy do? Maybe he’s got a trust fund or something. He’s older than me, that much is clear, but not by a lot. It’s hard to imagine a guy his age having enough money to throw around that he can afford a swanky penthouse in one of the most expensive hotels on the strip. Then again, I’m not about to complain. This will probably be the only time I’ll ever see the inside of a suite like this.
