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This is the “my place or yours” dilemma. Or, as I like to call it, “if he turns out to be crazy am I more likely to be murdered at my place or his?”
I don’t seriously believe I’m going to be murdered tonight, but it’s a consideration for women—hence the baseball bat under my bed. I believe in listening to my gut. And my gut says that the only thing West is likely to kill is my bad luck streak with men.
He’s just so delightful in every way.
“I’m a fifteen-minute walk away,” I offer as we tumble out of Camp Whiskey. “Give or take ten minutes to rest if my heels start hurting.”
“I’ll call an Uber.”
A few minutes later, we slide into the back of the car.
On the drive, he’s all hands and dirty talk. His fingers glide up my neck, threading through my hair. “I’d really like to put you on your knees,” he murmurs in my ear.
That sends a ribbon of heat down my body. “So I can suck your cock?” I ask under my breath. I’m helpful like that.
“I like the way you think, but I’m not that selfish. I want you to ride me first, then I’d like to put you on your hands and knees so I can fuck you hard and deep, make you come over and over. And I’d really like to smack your ass as I take you over the edge.”
Unicorn. Called it. He is officially a sex unicorn.
And I’m going to ride him and play with that golden horn all night long.
“Are we adding mind-reader to the list of skills you’ve mastered?” I ask.
He grins, all wicked and sly. “No, but I can read your body language. You’re a woman who likes to have fun, who likes to feel good, and who deserves to be the center of attention. And your orgasm will be the star of the show tonight.”
“Will it make multiple appearances?”
“It’ll take encores.”
“Standing ovations too.” I don’t know that I can bear this arousal as the car cruises the final block to my apartment. I might melt into a lust puddle before I get upstairs.
But somehow, I’ll manage. I haven’t roped a unicorn only to lose him now.
When we reach my building, West thanks the driver, and we get out. I unlock the front door quickly. My hands shake slightly, but not from fear. From excitement.
Is it just the prospect of hot, sweaty, up-against-the-wall, bent-over-the-bed, upside-down sex?
Well, yes.
But there’s more to it. When I told West, “You get me,” before the cubing competition, I meant it playfully. Only now it seems he does get me. We vibe. We’re in synch. He’s like the ideal dance partner in my ballroom class. In a few short hours, we’ve clicked in a way I haven’t clicked with anyone in too long. I can’t help thinking this might be more than the no-strings hookup I imagined when I first spotted him at the bar.
I mean, how often do you meet a man who makes your mind tingle every bit as much as your body?
Shut up, brain, my body shouts. We’re in charge right now. Filthy sex first; romantic daydreams later.
Yes, body. You’re coming in loud and clear.
I briefly consider taking the steps two at a time, but my heels forbid it.
Also, I don’t want to appear overeager.
But who am I kidding? West knows how eager I am to get naked and shameless with him.
Then we’re inside, and the door snicks shut. It’s the sound of the first half of the evening ending and the second half beginning.
That’s what tonight feels like. A beginning.
West holds my face, two big hands clasping my cheeks, his dark brown eyes holding mine.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he declares.
What? No!
“Why?” I ask, my voice pitching up.
“You’re so unbelievably sexy we have to start with me on my knees.”
“Oh.” I blink. And smile. And whisper, “Proceed.”
West moves at lightning speed. He drops to his knees, pushes my skirt and the crinoline underneath up to my waist, then tugs my panties down my legs. I’ve barely stepped out of them when his mouth is on me.
And dear God.
I melt in seconds.
My hands fly to his hair as I gasp, “Oh, God.”
His tongue slides along my slickness, lapping me up, tasting me. Add in that scratch of his beard, and I am a happy camper. Oh yes, I am. He licks soft and tender at first, just the way I like it. My moans seem to lead him on, and he picks up the pace. Masterful with his lips, soon he’s sucking and nibbling on my clit, driving me wild. As I curl my hands tighter around his head, I thread my fingers through his thick hair, yanking him closer. I lean back against the wall, my spine digging into the plaster.
