Page 22 of Make Me Laugh

He leans in against my ear, his shallow breath before he speaks sending goosebumps across my skin. West whispers, even though no one’s around to hear him, “Should I show you where the G-spot is too while I’m at it?”

My whole body flushes at his grin. He pushes himself off the elevator wall and casually walks off, pausing to make sure the door doesn’t close on me.

I try not to get too excited as I exit the elevator, feeling a lot like what I expect a fawn does when they walk for the first time.

Every man, and even a few women, surprisingly, have told me they know where both those parts are and then failed miserably when it came to showtime.

That might be the case with West, but his confidence is sexy, nonetheless.

West’s room is only a few doors down from the elevator. He pulls the room card out of his clip wallet, unlocks the door, and steps to the side, letting me in first.

I hear the door click behind me as I look around. It’s not huge or fancy. A king-size bed sits in the middle with nightstands and lamps on each side. I pass a small bathroom with a large stand-up shower, my attention stolen by the view.

The floor-to-ceiling windows face the water, only a few other buildings tall enough to obstruct the view. I fucking love this city. I turned down over fifteen job offers out of college because they weren’t local.

A bar cart with an open bottle of tequila sits against the window. Without asking for permission and before I turn around to face West, I pour myself a healthy shot and down it without a chaser.

I turn around to find West sitting on the edge of the perfectly made bed, feet planted on the floor. He’s leaning casually, like he’s in his element, and I’m the only one who’s in unfamiliar territory.

Because of course he’s in his element. This probably isn’t even his first one-night stand of the week…

His eyes drag from where my Docs meet the vinyl plank flooring, all the way to the top of my head. “I’m the luckiest man in Boston. In Massachusetts. Scratch that. In the whole fucking universe.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound like any of the others I’ve heard from him tonight. This one is full of lust—drunk off the sight of me.

I’m curious to see how he reacts to me with less clothing on.

Making up my mind had been the hardest part, but now that I’ve committed, there’s no stopping me. I turn into the vixen people know Hex to be.

I reach down to the edge of my long T-shirt, crossing my arms and pulling it over my head. I shake my hair out, tossing the shirt to the side. All that’s left is my jewelry, a matching black lace bra and cheeky panties, fishnets, a pair of socks, and my Docs.

West’s eyes roll back into his head, and he brings his index finger to his mouth, biting down around the knuckle. He doesn’t say anything, but I hear the low grumble of approval from deep in his chest.

I bring my leg up to the ottoman beside me, angling myself perfectly so West can get a full view of my ass while I lean down and unlace my boots. I take my time, kicking them off one by one as I close the distance between us.

West’s hands grip the duvet in what I know is an attempt to keep his hands to himself. Even when I climb onto the edge of the bed, straddling his lap, his hands stay put. I reach down and grab one, placing it at the crease of my hip. His grip tightens, pulling me flush against his lap.

He was waiting for permission to touch me, like the good boy I called him earlier. My heart thuds in my chest, and I let out a soft breath of approval as his other hand grips against my opposite hip and he forces me to rock against his erection.

Once.

Twice.

“Fuck,” I moan softly, my legs shaking as I rub against him a third time. Who knew dry humping could wind me up this much?

West lets me find a pace of my own, skimming his hand up my curves. Goosebumps skitter across my skin, and West follows their trail.

My nipples are so hard against the material of my bra it almost hurts when he squeezes gently. My body is reeling, every neuron on fire, and I’m chasing a high I won’t find if I don’t let West know what I need. I grab his wrist and slide his hand up my chest until it’s resting around my neck.

The hunger in his eyes is palpable, and I swear I hear him swallow back the drool that pools in his mouth.

“Have you ever safely choked someone?” My voice sounds like a purr even to my own ears.

West nods, but I shake my head. “Words. Tell me.”

“Yes,” is all he can manage.

I hum, sinking back into his lap again with a shaky moan. “Good.” I inhale a sharp breath as West applies the tiniest bit of pressure with his thumb and index finger. “Don’t be afraid to get a little rough.”

CHAPTER NINE