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“Ifeel…” she takes one last wipe with my hanky before slapping it, filthy with my own cum, against my chest, “that it’s gross the woman has to deal with a mess after having sex.” She drags her silver gown down to cover her legs, and twists the material so it sits evenly on her hips.
There’s only one thin layer of cloth between her and public humiliation, so I allow her time to fuss.
“I think it’s pretty telling of society as a whole that a man gets to nut, and a woman is left to clean up.” She reaches up to assess her hair, only to moan when she feels what I see: what was once a sleek ponytail now sits askew with lumps on one side.
She sighs. “I don’t suppose you carry a comb in your back pocket?”
I fold my arms and lean against the wall to watch her fumble in the near-dark. “Only a douchebag would do that.” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and smile. “Want a little help?”
“No.” She tugs the elastic from her hair and holds it between her lips, then she uses her fingers as a comb. Smoothing. Straightening.
Her perfect caramel locks hold a million memories for me.
Memories that, before today, were far more innocent.
Though, if I were being entirely honest with myself, I’d acknowledge that nothing I’veeverthought about this woman could be described as ‘innocent’.
Nineteen years old, twenty, or thirty-five, Hannah Sullivan will always star in all my filthiest fantasies.
“Is this good?” She twists her head so I get a view of the back.
Lumpless. Sleek.
Glancing back my way, she lifts a brow in question. When I nod, she snatches the elastic, loops it once over her refreshed pony, and starts feeding her long locks through again.
“I’m working tonight, and you’re my client’s brother, so…” She finishes her hair and releases the ponytail so it drops against her bare back. “You need to leave me alone.” She runs both hands along her body to make sure she’s decent. “Don’t come find me again. Don’t try to talk to me.”
My smile notches higher. “So, fuck and run? Am I nothing but a dick for you to dance on?”
She rolls her eyes and glances around to make sure she hasn’t forgotten anything. “Don’t talk to anyone about me. Don’t ask about me.”
She slaps my hand away when I unfold my arms and reach out. “Don’t touch me. Don’t even think about me.”
“Impossible.” I grab her hands and hold them down by her hips, if only to save myself from her abuse. Then I step closer so our toes touch and the tip of my nose brushes over hers. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met.” I drop a gentle kiss on her lips and swallow her sigh. “I’m not gonna make a habit of starting now.”
“I am a professional.” She straightens her shoulders and works to look down her nose at me. “And you are related to my client. That means we’re done. You go to your party, I’ll attend the same. We may cross paths, but we do not need to converse.”
“So I’m just a dirty little secret whore to you?” I’m joking. Teasing. But fuck if my heart doesn’t beat a little harder when she purses her lips and nods.
“A secret,” she agrees. “Not worthy of sharing with our friends and families. See how it makes you feel.”
She places her hand on the doorknob and burns me with a sassy stare. “I suggest you toss your hanky in the trash and wash your hands. Dirty whore.”
I choke out a laugh and slap her ass when she inches the door open to peek outside. I snatch my phone and switch off the light. Drop the device into my pocket, and plaster my chest to Hannah’s back one last time before we’re exposed to the world again.
Before we’re forced to return to the land ofHannah and Axel: two separate people living two separate lives.
“Meet me back here in an hour,” I murmur while she studies the hall. “Suck my dick again. We have a lot of time to make up. And I have a lot of orgasms to give you in hopes you’ll forgive me for being an asshole.”
“Pity, I don’t trade sex for forgiveness.”
Satisfied the coast is clear, she straightens her spine and strolls into the hall, her gown swishing around her ankles, and the dimples in her back popping for my eyes to follow. She holds her head high and walks in such a way that doesn’t telegraph to everyone that I was slamming her kitty just a few minutes ago. “Goodbye, Axel.”
“Oh, Hannah! There you are.”
I narrow my eyes when Raul Montenegro races forward and takes her hands in his.
He stands shorter than her tonight, since she’s in heels, but he brings her to his level, pulling her down like he doesn’t think she gets to stand tall. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Han.” He glances my way and pauses, staring for a beat. “Uh…” He brings his gaze back to her, though not without a heaping dose offuck offfor me. “I’d like to speak with you,” he murmurs, like he thinks I can’t hear. “In private.”
