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I shake my head at his misunderstanding. “No, I mean… I can’t. I can’t tell you I’ve felt this way with someone before. Because I haven’t. And it’s scaring the ever-loving fuck out of me,” I tell him honestly, and his tight hold on my hip relaxes just a smidge.
He dips his head to press his forehead against mine, a lazy smile pulling up a corner of his lips. “Nah, sugar. That’s just the haunted tour we’re on getting to you. Because you have nothing to be afraid of with me.”
And with that line floating through my mind on repeat, the entire bar… street… city… fuck—the world… disappears around us as he makes good on his promise and presses his lips to mine. With my body trapped between the bar top and the solid brick wall of his torso, my legs dangling on either side of his hips, I feel his free hand wrap around my lower back to pull our lower halves ever closer before it briskly moves up to bury his fingers up the back of my hair. He tugs on my ponytail just enough to make me gasp and swiftly dips his tongue inside my mouth for a taste, his groan rumbling inside his chest and tickling my nipples pressed against him.
I let go of all control, allowing him to tilt and bend me whichever way he wants, and the limper I become against him, the better it feels, just letting him mold me into a ragdoll of pure desire.
I don’t do this. I don’t make out in public. I don’t straddle laps of men I just met out in the open for the whole Quarter to see. And I one hundred percent do not give up control of a sexual nature. I keep that shit on lock so I can stay completely focused on the physical aspect of it, the pleasure it brings my body, never allowing it to penetrate my mind or heart.
But with Curtis, in this first kiss we share—which was absolutely no lie when he swore it would be unlike any I’ve ever felt before—I relinquish my hold on all power and give it all over to him. And by God, it’s the most addictive feeling in the world. I melt against him, my body feeling heavy and like it’s floating all at the same time. And when he lifts his hips just a little, it’s instinct, not my conscious mind, that has me grinding against him, making me whimper at the sheer pleasure of it all.
He overtakes every one of my senses—the sound of his breath and light groans, the scent of his intoxicating cologne, the taste of his Hurricane-laced tongue, the feel of his perfect body against my much smaller one—as the kiss goes on and on, and I never want it to stop.
How long has it been since I’ve made out like a teenager? Probably not since I was an actual teenager more than a decade ago. But Curtis’s kiss is the best sexual experience of my life thus far, and he has yet to even touch me intimately with his tongue, hands, or cock.
If I rocked forward just a tad… as his tongue continues to glide against mine… as I continue to breathe in his amazing scent… as I continue to listen to his unconscious sounds of desire while he brings me unsurmountable pleasure with just the press of his lips and dance of his tongue, I have no doubt he’d make me come, right here and now, in front of everyone in this bar. And at this point, with just the little bit of alcohol floating through my veins, I wouldn’t care one bit.
Dear God, this man has turned me into a dirty little exhibitionist with just one kiss.
I pant as his steel pipe of a cock pushes my seam against my aching clit, and just as the last star is about to align and make me explode in the bar of a haunted hotel, I nearly scream in both terror and frustration as a heavy hand lands on my shoulder, and Ronnie’s voice says loudly, “Time for our next stop! Girl, damn. Get a room. We’re in a hotel, after all.” And as I pry my lips from Curtis’s, I glance over his shoulder to see my tour guide buddy shaking his head and chuckling as he makes his way out the front door.
“Motherfucker,” I exhale, as the entire world slowly comes back into existence. And it’s then I realize Curtis still hasn’t spoken a word. I timidly look into his eyes, and what I see there is completely breathtaking.
He looks like a man possessed.
And I know my assessment is spot on when the first words out of his mouth after our first kiss are “Never letting you go, sugar. Not. Ever.”
