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I stiffen. "You know what I’m talking about?"
"I read, I go on Pornhub, so yeah, I know what S&M means. I’ve never gotten excessively kinky with a partner, so I don’t know if there’s something I wouldn’t enjoy; not until I try it, I suppose."
"I promise not to go into the hard-core stuff." I hold up my hand.
"So, you have been into the more hard-core stuff?"
"Why do you want to know? Are you jealous?"
She scoffs. "Why would I be jealous? I was merely curious."
"Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to." I allow my lips to widen in a grin.
"Your attitude is annoying." She reaches across the table, grabs for my glass, and I hold it out of reach.
“I don’t want you to be drunk. I need to you to be wide awake, alert, and in full possession of all of your faculties when we fuck." I drain the glass and place it on the table with a snap, then rise to my feet.
Her cheeks turn fiery. Her pupils dilate. "Anyone ever tell you, you’re a true gentleman, the way you speak?" Her voice comes out rough, and she clears her throat.
"You didn’t come here to pick up a gentleman. You want someone who can fuck you hard, someone who takes you with enough passion that you see stars. You want—" I reach over and run my knuckles down her forearm. "Someone who can fuck the attitude out of you. And trust me, when I’m done with you, you’re going to be feeling the shape of my cock in between your legs for many days to come."
3
Olivia
Oh, my god, he hasn’t even fucked me, and I can already imagine the shape of his rigid length between my legs. Feel his taste in my mouth, smell his scent in the air as I follow him up the stairs to the room he has for the night. Good thing he has it, too, because, no way was I going to go to his home, nor was I going to bring him to my place. I’ve had one-night stands before, but something about this man tells me this encounter is going to be different. And it’s not only due to the hum of electricity that sizzles between us every time our eyes meet. Doesn’t mean this encounter is going to be anything but strictly transactional.Iam going to make sure it’s purely transactional. Exchange of bodily fluids, and some old-fashioned banging meant to let off steam.
There will be no intimacy, nothing to blur the lines about what this is. A one-night stand, purely carnal, where we enjoy each other’s bodies. That’s it. End of story.
I can’t help but train my gaze on his butt as he walks up the stairs ahead of me. And oh, God, what a butt it is. Tight and hard, it stretches the seat of his jeans as he stalks forward. My fingers tingle, and my mouth pools with saliva. What I wouldn’t give to lean in and squeeze his flesh. I curl my fingers into fists.
As we reach the corridor at the top of the stairs, he prowls forward until he reaches the single door at the end of the short hallway.
"There’s only one room here?"
"And it’s ours for the night." He pushes the door open and gestures to me. I walk in, very aware of the heat of his body as I brush past him. My scalp tingles, and the soles of my feet burn. Goodness, and I haven’t even touched him. He slaps on the light, and I walk into the room. He shuts the door behind him, and the quiet snick echoes around the space. I shiver, and the hair on my forearms rises.
The room—well it’s a suite really—is nicer than I would’ve expected—a double bed, with bedclothes that appear to be clean, next to it a bed-stand, then a door that leads to the bathroom. Pushed up against one wall is a single mirror with a dressing table and stool in front of it. Next to it a window, with an armchair pushed up near it. Adjoining the area is a bar with stools next to the counter. I glance around the suite and notice there are no other belongings of his.
"You travel light," I murmur.
"I only use the suite to sleep off the alcohol in my system, before I head off the next morning," he replies from his stance near the door. He hasn’t made any effort to approach me, thank God. I just need a little time to gather my wits around me.
"Very sensible of you. Speaking of—" I glance at him over my shoulder, "—you do have condoms, right?"
He glances at the drawer in the bed-stand, then at me. I walk over, pull open the drawer, and spot the unopened box of condoms. "You were expecting to have sex tonight?"
"The staff’s instructions are to keep the place fully stocked."
"So, the staff know you use this place for your encounters?"
"Only the bartender knows, and he can be trusted to be discreet."
"Hmm." I straighten and turn to face him. "Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me the whole truth?"
"Just like you aren’t revealing why you came here with the intention of picking up someone tonight."
"I didn’t—" I purse my lips. Why am I trying to deny it? "Does it matter why I want a one-night stand? Isn’t it enough that I’m here?"
