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And every second was foreplay.
It not only made me pull away from every painful thought that had driven me to the club, clouding them in layers of fog, but it also filled me with a desire that haunted my insides.
That grew with each of his thrusts.
“Come home with me.”
My lungs gasped as I drew in air.
Home?
That meant he lived here.
Shit.
Had I wanted him to be a vacationer? So I knew he would be getting on a plane soon and I wouldn’t have to worry about ever seeing him again?
Did I want to scream through multiple orgasms, knowing that, just like last time, this would be the best sex of my entire life?
“Let me do to your body what I’ve been dreaming about.” His hand clasped around mine. “All you have to do is say yes.”
FIVE
Macon
“Let me do to your body what I’ve been dreaming about. All you have to do is say yes.”
I didn’t wait for her to reply before I turned her around to face me, and the look of shock covering her gorgeousness only caused me to draw her in closer. She was probably worried because we were balancing on a stage so high up and I had been reckless with the way I quickly spun her.
But I needed her face.
I needed to see her mouth when it parted and responded.
Besides, she wasn’t going to fall. I’d never let that happen.
“I—”
“Macon.” I couldn’t let a second go by without her knowing what to call me. “Whatever you’re about to say, start that sentence with my name.” My hands went to her cheeks, tilting them up toward mine.
“Macon.” I watched it roll across her tongue. “Fitting.”
I chuckled. “How so?”
“You’re classic in an old-school sense, like your watch. It’s not a shiny Rolex, it’s a piece far more timeless than that. Something that appears to have been passed down through many generations and probably costs more than three Rolexes combined. And then there’s the nickname you gave me. How many thirty-something-year-olds listen to Elton John to even make the connection to ‘Tiny Dancer’? Not many, if I had to guess. But with that classic feel, there’s something so rare about you. In your eyes, in your needs.” She gave a half smile. “You don’t look like a John or a David or an Andrew. That’s why Macon works. It’s uncommon—like so many things about you.”
Now, that was a response I could appreciate.
She’d noticed. She was into detail. And she was right about the watch, except it hadn’t been passed down in my family. There were only five of these pieces in the world. I’d flown to Dubai to get this one.
“So many things to comment on … but I’m not quite thirty. I’m twenty-seven. Still, you were close, and you are”—I searched her face, where I couldn’t find even a single fine line, eyes that had witnessed plenty of experiences, but not necessarily years—“twenty-three? Not more than twenty-five—I’m sure of that.”
“You’re so curious about me.”
“That’s because I can’t get enough of you.”
A feeling that had come completely out of nowhere not long after she left me in the bus, and it had only built as the days passed. It still shocked the fuck out of me.
I woke up thinking of her. I went to bed with her face behind my eyelids. I pumped my cock in the shower, visualizing her body—even though I couldn’t get rid of the raging hard-on every time I thought of her.
