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“No. He was a dick, but he didn’t hurt me.” She pushed off the wall and stepped in front of me. “Thanks for not standing me up.”
Her hands smoothed up my chest to clasp around my neck. The heels of her shoes brought her just below my chin, but that didn’t stop her from pulling my face down to hers. Her perfume mingled with her cooled sweat from dancing and the other bodies that had ground against her earlier.
“I told you, once I tasted you, you were mine,” I reminded her, but she wouldn’t know the implications of that promise until I finally got her clothes off.
Her eyes searched mine, and she appeared mesmerized and anxious all at once. It was a look I’d seen hundreds of times, but on Pru, it sent a skitter of excitement through me. It had been years since I was approached by a singular fan in a place the paparazzi wouldn’t hear about in the morning.
Maybe it was her willingness to please me. Or it could have been the circumstances of my imprisonment inside of The Deacon for the foreseeable future. Either way, when our lips met and her tongue stroked over mine, I knew I needed her for longer than the remainder of the night.
The low chime of the elevator announced our arrival, and the doors opened to my floor. I led her down the short hallway and opened the apartment, allowing her to enter first. My hand flattened against the wall and searched for the light, but she tugged me away by the fingers.
We’d let the city lights streaming in from the huge wall of windows be enough.
The dark silhouette of her hips and ass in the bedroom doorway had my mouth watering. I heard the soft rustling of fabric being swept away, followed by the drop of her shoes.
I pulled my shirt over my head, threw it over my shoulder, and followed her to the bed. Finally catching her waist in my hands, I pulled her to me. She was soft, warm, and the smell of endorphins was seeping through her pores.
She yanked on the waistband of my jeans. “Take these off.”
“Not yet.”
I wanted her to beg, but first, I wanted to hear her pant my name. Her hand cupped my hardening cock through the tight pants and she whimpered for me.
Our mouths met in the dark and devoured each other.
“It’s about to get rough, beautiful,” I gruffed into her lips. “Do you want a safeword?”
She didn’t answer, just kissed my jaw then down my neck and chest.
“Pru.” The sternness of my tone gave her pause. “Safeword.”
“Okay. What’s the safeword?” she answered, out of breath.
“Apple.”
3
Pru
Apple? What sort of hippie shit was apple?
“Fine. Now will you take your pants off and fuck me?” I couldn’t wait any longer.
The moment he’d saved me from that jerk at the bar, I’d been ready to suck him off in the middle of the club.
The guy who had felt me up had offered to buy me a drink while I waited for Ezra. I’d stopped drinking years ago, so when I turned the guy down, he asked if I wanted to dance. With another declined offer, he immediately started grabbing my ass and cornering me so I couldn’t leave.
Now that I had Ezra alone in a dark room, I was ready to show him my appreciation and devotion as an adoring fan for over a decade.
He had me standing at the end of the bed. His fingers caged my hips, and the smell of his skin had my panties soaked already.
“So eager for me.” He groaned into the crown of my head. “Sit.”
I did as he commanded and waited for him to make another.
The room was dark, but the lights from the skyscrapers, streetlights, and never-ending lines of traffic were enough to see his impossibly bright blue eyes intent on my face. I leaned forward, and he watched as my tongue circled the soft spot along his hip bone and my fingers pulled the button of his pants open.
He did me the favor of removing everything but his boxer briefs. The soft material hugged the tops of his thighs.
