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Eyeing him with a ferocity that he knows he kindled, I shoot back my liquor and set my glass on a nearby table. I grab him by the hand and drag him out of the ballroom.
He laughs. “Where we going, Leela?”
“You know damn well what you did,” I seethe, listening to him laugh at himself as we wind our way outside.
It’s then that I realize neither of us can drive. “Shit. I can’t wait for us to sober up. How are we going to get home?”
Meanwhile, Crosby is tracing kisses across my bare shoulders.
“Babe, I can’t think straight with you doing that. I need a plan.”
“Come on,” he says, guiding me away from the valet stand around the side of the building to the hotel’s back garden.
“Where are we going?”
“I can’t wait either.”
It’s midnight, and the pool area has been closed for hours. “What are you doing?”
I can see what he’s doing; he’s jumping the fence. Once this is accomplished, he opens the gate for me, and I step inside.
“We’re going to get arrested,” I whisper, giggling.
“For what?”
He turns on the jacuzzi, shucks off his tux, and steps into the hot, roiling water. “Come on in; the water’s perfect.”
Crossing my arms, I say defiantly, “I’m not getting naked. What if we’re caught? You want someone to see me like that?”
He shrugs. “Then keep your dress on. Now get that ass in here.”
The idea of plunging under hot water in an evening gown sounds uncomfortable, not to mention a crime against this brand new gown.
Moments later, he has me gripping the metal stair rail so hard that I worry it might come loose. His tongue travels over my cheeks and gingerly down my split before his hands spread me open.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.”
I clench.
“Relax, Kitten. We don’t have to.”
No. No, I want to. Not to prove anything. I’ve always been curious, just not quite brave enough. The liquid courage helps, and oddly enough, so does the element of danger. Someone could walk up on us at any moment.
“I’m good. I’m good.”
He chuckles. Crosby knows I repeat myself like this when I’m nervous. His tongue licks down the center of my split, and my body is overcome with this wild new sensation.
“Good girl,” he says, which instantly relaxes my muscles. Crosby’s thick girth pierces me gently, the smallest of pushes, the gentlest of stretches. The feeling is strange yet weirdly satisfying. Crosby reaches around and thumbs my clit, and the resulting juice that drips down makes him growl with delight. I gasp when I sense what he’s doing next, coating his hand and using it as a lube.
If he thinks he’s kissing me after this, he’s delusional.
This makes me snicker, and soon the snicker erupts into drunken chuckling, then bubbles over into drunken laughter.
“Whatever you’re laughing about, keep it going. It’s working.”
The laughter subsides as my body gives in to this insanity. I feel as if I am filled everywhere. His fingers owning my pussy and his cock in my back door, and his name on my lips.
I never thought it would feel good, but I was always willing to try anything to make him happy.
