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When he stopped right in front of me, the petty little girl in me kind of wanted to smirk triumphantly at the passed-over females. Of course, I didn’t. Not much, anyway.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as he sat down on the stool next to me.
He shot a glare at the guy two barstools over who’d been sidling closer since I got here, and the tingling shot straight to my pussy… because apparently, I was into cavemen these days.
The caveman shrugged. “You’re stressed. You want to drink and you want to fuck, right?”
Well, maybe. I wasn’t sure I liked being so easy to read, though.
He signaled the bartender for another round for us both, then leaned an elbow on the bar, waiting patiently. I expected him to poke and probe—I’d left the Costa estate in a bit of a hurry—but he didn’t. He didn’t say another word until our drinks had arrived and we’d tipped them back.
“All right, now you’ve had your drink, darling. Ready to fuck?” It was a question, but not really. The cocky expression on his face and the heated look in his eyes said he already knew the answer.
But the answer was more complicated than that. There were feelings here, getting entangled in whatever this was between us. And at twenty-two, I wasn’t the least bit interested in complications and tangled-up feelings.
Time to walk away,said a voice in my head, but let’s face it; I wasn’t going to do that. At the moment, I could blame it on the colossal failure of my mental moment. Afterward, I’d probably have to come up with a better excuse.
“Si,I’m ready.”
He took my hand as I slid off the barstool, but when he started leading us toward Onyx’s front door, I got a better idea. A much more immediately gratifying idea.
I stopped walking and tugged his hand in the opposite direction.
He cocked an eyebrow but didn’t resist. Maybe he already knew about the bedrooms down below. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret.
Aldo was the brown-eyed blond-haired bouncer guarding the stairs to the basement tonight. He smiled at me and opened the door, letting Brute and I pass right by him.
“Come here often, darling?” Brute asked on the way down, fighting a smile.
I shrugged as we walked along the decadent black, gold, and red hallway peppered with black leather benches and wing-backed chairs. “One of the brunettes who works here has killer legs and a wicked tongue,” I said.
I think I actually felt his pulse quicken. Men were so easy to please.
The door to the last bedroom on the right was open. I stepped inside, and Brute followed me in to the black and purple lair of sin.
His gaze took a quick walk around the room, taking in the four-poster bed with sturdy beams that ran along the top, already adorned with black satin restraints. And the shelves and cabinets filled with every sex play prop under the sun, from cuffs, dildos, and gags to nipple and clit clamps that connected to a device that sent out crazy vibrations—don’t ask me how I knew that.
And while the sight of all the toys sent my mind whirling with possibilities, I was too knotted up, too in need of a quick, hard fuck to pay them much attention. Maybe later.
I kept hold of Brute’s big hand until we reached the end of the bed, and that was about all the self-control I had left in me.
I spun around and lunged for him, up on my toes, hands on his shoulders. Stress and tension had left me starving; this man was sustenance.
But I’d barely gotten a taste when he grabbed my hands and moved them between us, creating a barrier.
“Slow down, darling,” he said like he wasn’t sporting a hard-on I could feel clear through our clothes.
“How about we fuck, then slow down,” I proposed, since that sounded like a pretty good idea to me.
He chuckled, still holding my hands trapped between us. Instead of getting to the fucking part, he stayed still, our hands trapped between us while his eyes perused my face.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Si,I do.”Ugh, the answer should not have come that easy.
“Then close your eyes.”
I stared at him like maybe he’d taken a temporary leave of his senses, but he just stared back at me, expectantly, waiting for me to obey.
