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I slide my lips across hers, a gentle sweep at first, tasting the cinnamon and apple of the drink and a hint of vanilla I’m guessing is her lipstick. I inhale the scent of her hair, letting the flowers and sweet spice go to my head. My mind becomes a haze of her lips and her soft murmurs.
I cup her cheek in my hand, stroking my thumb gently across her soft skin as I press my lips a little harder, kiss a little deeper, exploring her delicious mouth. A moan seems to fall unbidden from her and she arches even closer. With her hip against mine, her hand drifts up my chest, making my skin heat.
I kiss her more deeply, tongues stroking, mouths discovering, breath mingling. Her moans and sighs are shameless and real, and I love them. Love hearing how much I affect her. Love too that her hand travels briefly across my beard, then grips the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me closer, making her wishes known.
Making it clear that this doesn’t need to be a careful kiss.
I rope a hand into her hair, threading through the strands, then giving a gentle tug, just to see how she responds. A small catch of her breath, followed by a husky moan of approval, is the answer.
The perfect answer.
I break the kiss, and she looks up at me, lust drunk. “Do that again? Please?” she says.
“I’d like to do all sorts of things to you.”
“Like…my favorite things?” she asks, both flirty and dirty.
“If your favorite things include coming. A lot.”
Her eyes twinkle. “However did you know?”
“Lucky guess. I hope that’s not too forward,” I say playfully, though I suspect I know the answer.
She tap-dances her fingers up my chest. “Oh, I like forward. I like it a lot.”
“Good to know.” My fingers drift down, down, into the darkness under the table to the hem of her skirt. “Let’s see how I do in the first heat of the coming competition,” I say, then coast a hand under her skirt, up her leg, on the fast track for my favorite place.
She moans before I even touch her.
“But you’re going to have to be quiet,” I murmur into her ear. “If you keep making all these delicious, attention-grabbing noises I’ll have to stop.”
She shakes her head. “No. Don’t stop,” she whispers, as my hand reaches the apex of her thighs.
I bite my lip as I feel the cotton panel of her knickers, how damp it is, how aroused she is. My fingers travel to the waistband, slipping under it, over her curls, then between her legs, where they glide across that glorious slickness.
She shudders, a beautiful, silent shudder that sends a tremor of lust down my spine.
My cock hardens as I trace all that silky wetness. Gigi trembles as I touch her, her hand gripping my arm, like she needs desperately to hold on to something. To me.
She parts her legs, widening them, giving me more access.
I stroke faster, focusing my attention on that swollen bundle of nerves that’s pulsing, begging for touch.
Touch I’m all too happy to provide.
Her other hand grips the edge of the table, as she clamps her lips shut. Sparks sizzle across my skin as I watch her face. As I memorize the way her forehead furrows as her breath comes fast, then faster still.
As her face becomes a map of exquisite torture.
But the whole while, she remains quiet. Like a good dirty girl. “That’s right. Don’t let anyone hear you,” I whisper. “If anyone hears, I’ll have to stop.”
A soft whimper falls from her lips but then she purses them.
Dipping my face to her neck, I whisper against her skin, “So good. Just like that.”
I stroke faster, sliding a finger inside her sweet center and crooking it, hitting that spot inside her that makes her thighs clench, and her breath stutter.
“Ohhh, West,” she gasps. My name on her lips is filthy and needy. It sends the desire in me spiking higher, then higher still as she begs “Don’t stop.”
Such a beautiful beggar.
As if I could stop.
I have only one choice now. To seal my mouth to hers and cover her lips with a kiss as she trembles, her body shaking, as my gorgeous stranger comes for the first time tonight.
If I have my way, it won’t be the last.
And I intend to have my way with her.
Once she’s stopped trembling, I wipe my hand on a cloth napkin, press another kiss to her lips, and reach for my glass.
Down the hatch.
“Now, shall we get started on number two straightaway?”
“I don’t want another drink,” she says.
“I wasn’t talking about the drink.”
Her swollen lips curve up at the edge. With glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, she nods. “Yes, please,” and I lift my hand for the check.
5
GIGI
Sex plans are full of awkward moments.
