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His fingers slip under the lace of my panties. I gasp, casting an anxious glance around the bar.
“No one is watching, Goddess,” his voice is a silk lure and my thighs part.
I finally look at him and the hunger in his gaze quickens my pulse.
“All you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will,” he says.
I couldn’t tell him to stop if someone was holding a gun to my head.
I never want him to stop.
His fingers skim up, and up, and up. I can’t tell where the heat is coming from - him or me, but from the very center of my body to the tips of my extremities, I’m ablaze.
“Let’s go back to your room and spend the entire night together. I have years and years of fantasies to live out with you. I want to suck your toes, and fuck your ass, and watch your lips stretch around my dick.” he whispers.
Oh my God, I have never wanted any of those things, but now I feel like I need them all.
“Will you let me?” he coos, his fingers trail up and he rubs my clit through my panties. My head lolls forward and he cups my neck and presses his lips to my cheek, kissing his way to my ear while he continues his sensual strokes.
“Fuck the rules,” I breathe.
He pulls his hand away and lifts it to his nose and inhales. “Your pussy is so delicious, Regan.”
My name on his lips is even more erotic than the words that preceded it.
“I knew you couldn’t say no, it was too good between us.”
He’s not wrong, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve made this too easy for him. He walked over assured of his conquest. This man is all alpha and I know that he’ll be at his best if he’s got to work for it. Last night was amazing, but tonight I want him in a lather. I want him to leave me sore and bruised so I can hold on to these feelings for as long as possible.
“I haven’t said yes. You want me? You’ll have to catch me first,” I hop off the stool and wave for the bartender. “Settle the tab first will ya’?” I chuckle at the bemused expression on his face as I turn and hurry away.
When I exit the restaurant, I glance over my shoulder to see where he is. He’s further away than I thought, but he’s following me. His eyes alight with a determined glint that thrills me.
I hurry across the lobby and head down a hallway that ends with a bank of elevators.
I don’t know where I’m going or what I’ll find on the floors above the lobby and its bar, but I don’t care as long as I can get him alone.
I wait until I hear his footfalls behind me before I press the button to call the lift.
The doors open immediately, and I step inside.
“Hold that door,” he calls and starts to jog.
“You’ll have to be faster than that,” I say teasingly when the doors start to close.
He breaks into a sprint, and just when I’m sure he’s not going to make it. His fingers slip in between the two doors just before they slam shut. They bounce open instantly and he steps inside.
“Regan,” he says my name like it’s a promise he’s making as he reaches up and presses a button that stops the elevator from its ascent.
“Hi, Stone.”
He slips a hand around my waist and turns me so I’m facing him, too.
My hands have a mind of their own, because despite every last shred of good sense I have screaming for me to stop, they slide up his muscular shoulders and drape themselves around his neck.
Everything about this man, this attraction, and the reckless behavior it’s spawned - is a bad idea.
But my fingers dance up his collar and twirl in his hair. It’s so soft. I wonder what it smells like.
