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“Patrick…” My voice cracked. “It’s so much.”
He groaned. The raw lust in that sound shocked me. His cock, enormous, jerked in my tight embrace. His massive hands began to roam over my body, exploring every place the dollar bills had touched. They spread sparks as he squeezed my hips, felt my stomach, slapped my thighs with stings that left me panting. When he fondled my breast with a warm palm, I moaned. Loudly.
“You like that?” He pinched my nipple. I moaned again. “Say it. Tell me.”
“I like it,” I breathed, the bed bouncing under us as he thrust. I was soaking wet and he just didn’t stop and he was crushing my nipple in his fingers. My pussy spasmed around his thick cock, hard, because suddenly he was grazing my clit and I was too sensitive to take it, I was exposed and raw and he was rubbing faster and faster…
I peaked again, helplessly. “Patrick,please…”
“Fuck,” he groaned, grabbing both my hips and thrusting deep. I clutched the pillow, overwhelmed. He was coming inside me. Grunting in release. Squeezing my hips with each spurt, filling me with his essence.
As our breath slowed, my pussy quivered in aftershocks of pleasure. Little by little, his fingers eased their grip on my hips. When I squirmed my ass against him, he gave a final thrust, dropped a kiss on my shoulder, and pulled out.
I sat up and stared at the aftermath of our fucking, then flopped back on the bed.
Twenty-dollar bills lay all over the floor. Patrick’s sheets were a rumpled mess, pillows scattered everywhere. My pussy ached, sore from his fingering and feral thrusts.
An exhausted sated glow spread over me. I could barely move.
“So that’s how you like it.” My voice was a rasp. “Your room, your way. Anyone ever tell you that you have problems?”
“HowIlike it?” He chuckled. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh. “Own it, Christina. You fucking loved it.”
“I still don’t like you,” I said huskily. “I really don’t like you. And you still scare me.”
“And it was hot, right? We had a good time together.”
When I shivered, he looked at me like he might pull me in close. Hold me, touch me. I didn’t want to crave his embrace or melt into his body. He stretched out next to me and coiled a piece of my hair around his fingers.
“So do we have an agreement?” he asked.
I shuddered. I couldn’t see straight right now. “Give me time to think about it.”
“Twenty-four hours.”
“Fine.”
“And stay the night.” He smiled lazily.
My head jerked up. “That wasn’t part of the agreement.”
“Didn’t you want a warm bed tonight?” He draped his arm over me. Automatically, I scooted closer. “It’s freezing outside. You can’t do anything about the heat in your apartment until tomorrow. You’re half-asleep anyway.”
He was right. God, it was tempting. But if I stayed, and fell asleep — Jesus — in his arms, he’d just get more of a hold on me.
I forced my eyes open. “No.”
“Suit yourself. It’s a long, cold walk home.”
I sat up. “You’re not going to drive me?”
“Nope.” He regarded me from his pillows. “I’m comfortable right here.”
“You’re such a dick,” I gasped. “A gentleman would drive me home.”
His face twisted in an ironic smile. “A gentleman wouldn’t rub money all over your naked body that he was paying you for a hot fuck. Now, the way I see it, you have two choices. I help you pick up all the money and we go to sleep nice and comfy in my bed. You get to be warm, a lot warmer than your apartment would be. I’ll even make you breakfast in the morning. Or, you have two minutes to get your clothes on and get the fuck out.”
“You can’t be serious.” I stared at him.
