Page 17 of The Playboy


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That answer earned her another kiss, this one longer.

More intense.

And while I locked her lips with mine, I thought about where this could go down. I couldn’t take her to my suite. The guys could leave here at any time and barge in on us. I wasn’t looking for an audience.

When I divided our mouths, I whispered, “Your place?”

“Not an option,” she responded fast. “Both of my roommates are home.”

She was a local—I’d guessed right. Which also made me believe I knew the reason why she was here.

But if we couldn’t go to her house, that only left one other spot.

I set her feet on the ground and clasped our fingers. “Come with me.”

As I walked us through the club, I took out my phone and shot off a quick text to Cooper.

If you guys leave anytime soon, you need to take an Uber. The party bus is occupied.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and led her outside, locating the bus in the parking lot.

Once I reached the driver’s window, I knocked, waiting for it to roll down before I said, “I need an hour. Alone.” I pulled out a wad of cash from my wallet—an amount close to four hundred—and I handed it to the driver. “Don’t come back even a minute early and make sure the door is locked.”

“Understood,” he replied.

I took my Tiny Dancer toward the side of the bus, the door opening automatically. After we stepped in, it closed, and I heard the click of the lock and the slam of the driver’s door.

Finally, just the two of us. A thought that made me the happiest fucking man alive.

I brought her to the back, and while I took a seat in the center of the long row, I positioned her in front of me.

She took a quick glance around. “Why do you have this bus?”

I gripped her thighs, guiding her even closer. “We’re celebrating a friend’s bachelor party. I came with a bunch of buddies.”

Her hands fell to my shoulders, her eyes on mine. “And this is where you plan to make me scream?” The flashing lights, rotating in colors, spread stripes of pink and blue and green and yellow across her face.

I smiled. Not from the pinwheel of hues, but from her question. “It sounds like you’re challenging me.”

“If I am, does that change anything?”

“Meaning will I make you come three times instead of two?” I growled.

The waiting was intolerable.

I wanted to sink into her wetness.

To get this flimsy dress off her body so I could drag my lips across her skin.

“Three?” She huffed. “That would be record-breaking.”

I used just a solo finger to trace down to her knee, across the bone, and up her inner thigh, halting as soon as I felt the heat.

She inhaled, filling her lungs. Holding the air in and not releasing it.

“Then, maybe I should shoot for five.”

“Impossible.”

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