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He nuzzled his nose into the side of my neck not occupied by Ibrahim. “Nothing wrong with vanilla, darling woman.”
When he pulled back, his eyes were serious. “Red means stop. Full stop, an immediate end to whatever we’re doing, no matter what. We make sure you’re okay, including getting you clean and comfortable. Yellow means slow the fuck down. Something’s not right, or you’re uncomfortable, or you need a break. Green means full speed ahead. Whatever we’re doing is fine.”
I didn’t miss the implication of “we” in his explanation. “Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go. Got it.”
He kissed me again, wrapping his hand around my head and delving deep into my mouth with his tongue. I melted against him, held up only by the firm support of his and Ibrahim’s arms wrapped around me. As Benedict’s tongue stroked against mine, my capacity to think about anything other than how much I wanted this, wanted them, and wanted a break from all of my cares and worries and heartbreak, dissolved in a cloud of lust and need.
Ibrahim nipped and nibbled on my neck and my shoulders as Benedict plundered my mouth.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
Was I sure? Of course not. Was I going to do it anyway? Hell yes.
When I didn’t answer right away, utterly distracted by the punishing lips moving over my own, Ibrahim asked, “What color, Piper?”
“Green,” I said, drawing back from Benedict, blinking the daze of lust away.
Ibrahim drew me backward, wrapping his long fingers around mine. “C’mon then.” James grabbed my carry-on and my purse, and we all followed Benedict through the terminal. I stumbled, struggling to keep up in my ridiculously high heels, and Ibrahim slowed his pace, although barely.
When we reached a business class lounge, Benedict scanned his boarding pass. The receptionist imperiously held out his hand for mine. When I handed my phone to the man, who’d no doubt been thoroughly abused for the many snow delays he scanned my boarding pass, then did the same for Ibrahim and James.
I felt like a kid playing hooky from school, about to take part in activities normally forbidden to me. We stopped outside of a wooden door. The attendant looked askance at us, but when Ibrahim ignored him, I did too.
“What color, Playful Piper?”
I pushed up on my toes to brush my lips against his, enjoying my newfound courage. “Green. Definitely green.”
He slipped a bill to the attendant and opened the door, pushing me in. I flicked the latch shut after the two of us entered. We were in a small, spotlessly clean room with a counter and two sinks, with two stalls—a shower and a toilet.
Was I really going to do this?
Ibrahim shoved me against a wall, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin of my throat. My knees weakened until I had to throw my arms around his neck to keep myself upright. Ibrahim chuckled as I caught my balance.
God, he was sexy when he laughed. He kissed me again, and I was drowning as his soft lips moved over mine. “Puritanical Piper,” he murmured.
“Oh, that’s terrible,” I said, laughing softly as he worked his fingers down my dress, tracing them in lazy circles.
He kissed his way down my stomach until he was kneeling on the ground in front of me. I clutched his head, running my fingers through his coarse, short-cut hair. “What are you—”
He slid his fingers up to my hips, hooked a finger around my panties, and yanked them down.
“Wait,” I said, breathing hard, not believing I was calling a halt to this.
Ibrahim leaned his forehead on my stomach. “What do you need, Princess Piper?”
I couldn’t stop my laugh at the moniker. “A moment. I need a moment. Yellow, please,” I said, breathless, trying to reconcile my intense desire for this stranger with my newly broken heart.
He stood up and bracketed me with his arms, leaning his forehead against mine. “Pretty Piper, we can walk right back out of here right now, and that will be fine with me, all right? We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
I leaned back against the wall, relishing the cool tile against my back as I overheated. When I lifted my hand to cup his cheek, he turned his face to kiss my palm.
“I don’t know what I want.”
Ibrahim furrowed his brow in thought. “Come here.”
He backed me up against the counter, then wrapped his hands around my hips and lifted me up. “Up you go.”
He slid his arms up my legs, working the snug skirt of my dress until it sat around my waist. I kicked my panties off my feet where they dangled, letting them drop to the ground, then squeezed my knees together, suddenly shy about baring myself to his gaze.
