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Asking him to fuck me right out of the gate had felt too aggressive, but now I was regretting asking for ‘sex’.
Too clinical.
He settles into the back of his chair, crossing his arms and casually leaning closer to me. My nose picks up the scent of his cedar cologne.
He’s not laughing at me, nor is he immediately agreeing to my proposition. I’m good at reading body language, but his gives nothing away. He’s an enigma wrapped in a mystery and one I’m apparently desperate to solve.
“I thought an escort in a five-star hotel would have a touch more finesse in her one liners.”
His voice moves over my body like a feather teasing along my skin.
Maybe he’s too much, too potent for me.
I set out to find a one-night stand, someone who could make sex enjoyable for me when my previous experiences have been anything but. Sex with my ex had been tolerable at best, but mostly miserable. Missionary only, over in less than two minutes, with no skill, expertise or frankly any care for whether I was enjoying it or not. And I wasn’t, mostly because he’d never managed to make me come.
Never. Not once.
Frankly, I wondered whether my being conscious or not would have made any difference to Rex, but I’d never asked him.
We’d only dated three months before breaking up last year and since then I’d grown tired of touching myself to get some relief. Getting myself off worked but it never felt completely satisfying. After six months of frustratingly unfulfilling orgasms and no one catching my eye, I’d started to spiral and had pondered jokingly aloud to Six that I might be asexual.
My physical response to the man at the bar tells me I’m not, but with one look and one reply from him, I suddenly feel dangerously out of my league. He’s definitely older and his lack of reaction to my shock and awe approach makes me feel like I accidentally skipped a couple levels in this game and went straight to the final boss.
“I’m not a prostitute, but I have watched every season ofDiary of a Call Girlwhich means I knowexactlyhow much work goes into being a high-class escort, so I do accept your compliment.” I shrug, before adding simply, “Women have needs.”
His eyes drop to my lips as I speak and it’s distracting. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows how to seduce a woman and he’s doing it with barely any effort at all.
“And what needs are those?”
I inhale and his gaze flicks down to where my breasts push against the neckline of my dress. A flash of heat passes through the limitless depths of his eyes. It’s the first sign that I’ve affected him in any way and I grab on to it.
“To put it quickly and bluntly,” I tell him, “I need to be cracked like a glowstick. I need to be fucked in a way that sets feminism back at least a couple hundred years. You seem like just the guy to do it. Interested?”
That pulls a smile out of him. Or at least that’s how I interpret the lifting of the left corner of his mouth.
He takes a sip of his drink and nods at me.
“Go on.”
“I just need one night of back breaking sex to get me out of my funk. That’s it really.” I set my own drink on the counter and look over my shoulder at the lounge area behind us. “It was dead in here earlier so I didn’t have high hopes that I’d find anyone, but then I saw you marching across the room like you owned the place, and maybe you do. Who knows. But something about the way you walk tells me you know exactly what you’re doing in the bedroom and I want a turn.”
His hand comes up to brush his jaw, covering up his lethal smile as he considers me. Unlike earlier, I can see more clearly behind his gaze now. He’s intrigued and tearing me apart with his eyes like he’s sizing up if I’m a predator or prey.
“Are you always this blunt?”
“Blunt?” I say with a cool grin, affecting pure confidence. “This is me at my best.”
His eyes flash in challenge and an excruciating shiver shoots down my spine in response.
He likes to play, I can tell.
He tilts his head at me. “Then do your worst.”
Pushing the chair next to him aside and clutching onto my false confidence with both hands, I wedge myself between him and the bar.
To a casual observer, it looks completely innocent, like I’m leaning over the bar to order a drink.
For the two of us, there’s an added thrill in the air.
