AllFreeNovel
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“Would it be rude of me to grab your hand and pull you out of here right in front of him?” he rasps into my ear. “Because you’re rubbing that tight pussy against my cock and I’m five seconds away from unbuttoning my trousers and fucking you right here.”
I take a deep breath. My stomach is tight with need. “Not rude at all.”
“Perfect,” he murmurs, kissing me once more before helping me stand. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a wallet. He opens it, grabs a card, and hands it to me.
I take the card from his hand and look at it. Room card.
“This is the key to room 501 at the hotel across the road.” He runs his fingers along my jaw and tilts my chin up. “Meet me there in ten minutes.”
“I get the feeling this isn’t your first rodeo.” I raise an eyebrow.
“No, it isn’t, but it isn’t yours either, is it?”
“Touché.”
He acknowledges it with a tilt of his head. “Ten minutes. Room 501.”
With those words he steps back and disappears. I draw in a long, needing breath and tuck the card into my purse. Somehow it hasn’t got tangled in our clinches, and I’m wishing I packed a spare pair of panties.
The ones I’m wearing are fucked.
His words are still echoing in my mind when my wrist is grabbed and I’m turned around. “I thought you were going home.”
I stare at Jackson. “I was. I got waylaid.”
He glances at my purse. “Looks like you’re not getting back on track any time soon.”
“We all need a little detour when the mood strikes us.”
“It’s not the only mood striking you tonight.”
“Do you have a problem, Jackson? Because you’re sure fucking dancing around something.”
“You don’t know the guy,” he says, pulling me over to the bar.
I yank my hand from his grip and stare at him. “All the better for me, then. Is that it or can I go now?”
He stares at me for a long moment. His jaw tics but he doesn’t say anything, so I turn.
“Go out with me.”
“Excuse me?” I look over my shoulder, my eyes wide.
“Go on a date with me.”
I wanted to fuck you, not date you, you moron.
“I’m about to go and sleep with another guy and you’re asking me on a date?”
His jaw clenches.
“You’re a fool,” I say before walking away.
I push my way downstairs and out of the club. Go on a fucking date indeed.
Dates aren’t my thing. In fact, they’re as far fucking from it as they could be. Dates are full of lovey, mushy get-to-know you bullshit. They build a relationship on the person inside, on emotion, and for me, on potential addiction.
The more I know about a person the more likely I’ll get addicted to them.
