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“Sounds like falling onto the stage and spilling dildos was the easy part of your day. Who’d have thought a penis party would be the hard part?” My lip curls in a sexy smirk at the double entendre, mostly because it’s not my usual M.O.
Hell, flirting isn’t my usual style. I so rarely allow myself to be distracted from my single-minded focus on The Gentlemen’s Club and my goals.
Her laugh is brighter, almost tinkling this time, and she pins me with a teasing light in her eyes. “I see what you did there. You think you're clever?”
I grin. “I know I am. I’m also good-looking, intelligent, generous, ambitious, and kind. Notice, I didn’t say humble because I think it’s important to know your good and bad qualities and be honest about them. Especially with yourself.”
She nods agreeably, though her smile says she’s not sure about my laying it out there so boldly. “Good and bad, you say? Alright... I’m smart, a great friend, and a fantastic lover. I’m also addicted to reality TV, have to work to filter my mouth, and I’m a pushover when it comes to my mom and sister.”
I blink, having only heard one thing she shared.A fantastic lover.
Beneath the table, my cock is rock hard and begging for attention. And not from my hand again. This need is not about answering an urge so I can maintain clear-headedness. It’s about the woman across from me. This desire is for Sam specifically, with her wild hair and wilder mouth. I want to taste the things she says, do the things she wants, and experience her fully.
It's not like me. I don’t make split-second decisions without considering every angle, consequence, and possible result. But maybe, just this once...
I don’t think and rethink and then think once more for good measure. I act.
“Would you like to continue this conversation upstairs?” I ask carefully, well aware that while she might say yes, odds are equally good that she’ll torch me where I sit. But fortune favors the bold, and I’m extremely fortunate.
Her eyes dip to my lips and then scan my face in an instant. I await her decision, trying not to scoop her up and make a run for the elevator. That wouldn’t be proper, after all.
“You promise there’s no sacrificial cult thing? And that you’re not going to steal my kidneys?”
Before I answer, she’s already rising. I quickly follow her move, tossing a twenty to the table and then taking Sam’s hand once more. I’d like to say we make our way discretely to the elevator, but the truth is, we’re nearly running for it, and as the doors close, trapping us in the small confines, it’s Sam who makes the first move.
She wraps my tie around her hand and pulls me into her space, planting her back to the elevator wall so that I press against her. There’s only a few inches difference between us with her in her heels, and with her face tilted up to mine, I cup her jaw with one strong hand. I move in slowly, giving her an opportunity to stop me, but she meets me in the middle. Her lips are sweet and soft, molding to mine as I delicately claim her mouth, exploring and learning her.
Sam kisses me back, more aggressively than I’m used to, but I like it. A lot. I shift my hips, my hard-on rubbing across her pelvis, and she groans into our shared breath. Her head falls back, and I trace kisses along her jaw, down to her neck.
“Please promise me you know what to do with that thing. If I have to pull out a toy, I might as well just go home and do this on my own because I know what I like and I’ve got an inventory’s worth to choose from.” The threat is real, but given the continued rough groans she’s making as I touch her, she doesn’t want to do that.
She wants me.
And I want her.
“I know what I’m doing.” The arrogant vow is made with gentle kisses to her mouth—the right, then left, then fully centered as I let my tongue dive past her lips to write the promise deep.
“Thank fuck!” she sighs as she runs her fingers into my hair and kisses me back.
When the elevator dings and the doors open, we don’t break apart. Not until a voice says, “Getting off?”
I feel Sam’s smile before I see it, but when I open my eyes, it’s just as bright and mischievous as I thought it’d be. “I’m trying to, but you’re cock-blocking me here. And Iwantwhat he’s packing.”
The woman huffs in distaste as Sam pulls me past her. Habits are hard to break, though, and I murmur, “Sorry, excuse us.” The apology is not accepted, and the woman gets on the elevator looking as though we left a splattering of sex in the space just by being in there. “This way,” I tell Sam, guiding her to my room.
I make quick work of the electronic lock and hold the door open, waiting for her to decide again. Sam doesn’t seem impressed as she enters the room, which is oversized and decorated in what a designer would probably call ‘modern luxury’.
The king-size bed has more pillows than any two people might need, the white sheets are that perfect combination of crisp and soft, and the headboard is tufted ivory velvet. Behind the floor-to-ceiling drapery is a view of the hotel’s garden, which can be perfectly appreciated from the chaise lounge chair, and the desk holds a large ginger-jar style lamp along with my laptop, which sits where I left it earlier when I wrapped up work to go downstairs for the club meeting.
None of that matters to Sam, or to me right now.
I yank at my tie, blindly pulling the knot free, but become instantly distracted when I see Sam reaching beneath her hair to the nape of her neck. “Let me,” I offer.
She spins. “There’s a small button here, and then a zipper on the side,” she answers helpfully. The button is easily conquered, but I take my time with the zipper, letting the backs of my fingers brush over her skin and the silk of her bra. Sam dips her shoulders, letting the top fall to her waist as she turns back to face me.
The pink fabric is puddled above her hips, exposing the cleavage that’s been teasing and tempting me all night. I dance my fingers over her mounds, touching her gently and enjoying the responding gooseflesh that rises in the wake of my touch.
“I want to worship every inch of you. Feel, taste, enjoy your skin until you’re ready for me.”
