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Joey gave a reserved kiss to her mouth, picking up the remnants of her martini off them. “I saw.” His other hand moved away from the door and wrapped around her throat, his thumb caressing the silky skin.
Feeling the possessive hold on her, her nipples tightened and pushed against the fabric of her dress. Awareness of her own body beginning to crave his touch left Layne squirming in his hold while a chill ran over her body. “I need to get back to him.”
“You will after I’m done with you.” The purr of Joey’s stern words made her insides tighten. His hand still holding onto her throat, his other slid up between her thighs finding the thin strip of fabric of her thong already damp from the sight of him.
She quietly moaned feeling his touch so close to her center, her hands rubbed up the front of his chest as she used him to steady herself. Her legs felt as though they were just going to drop out from underneath her. In an unexpected and aggressive yank, it didn’t take much for Joey to snap the fabric of her panties and he tossed them down onto the floor.
His mouth nipped at the bottom of her ear between words. “I’m going to make sure you know how much you have been driving me crazy, Layney.” The edge of a growl hung on his words before two fingers slid along her crease and pushed their way inside of her roughly.
She sucked in a sharp breath before she moaned out, one hand balled up in the fabric of his shirt while the other clung to the back of his neck. Her back arched resulting in pushing her breasts against the solidness of his chest. Coated in the warmth of her arousal, Joey’s fingers easily slid in and out of her with dominating movements.
His hand kept her pinned to the door by her throat while she moaned out his name repeatedly in absolute pleasure. His gaze drank in the sight of her squirming in the small space he kept her confined to. As his thumb rubbed over the already sensitive bud of her clit, Layne looked at him longingly as the waves of sensual heat grew more intense throughout her body.
“Yes, please don’t stop, Joey…” The urgency of need was clear in her voice as his fingers continued to fuck her pussy. His fingers curled deep inside of her to find just the right spot to tease.
“You want to be a good girl and come for me?”
“God, yes.” Her hips rolled against him.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” His hand applied more pressure around her throat prompting the walls of her pussy to squeeze around his fingers.
Her body was beginning to tremble as she approached the cusp of release. “So bad.” Absolute neediness filled her voice.
He then stopped his movements, his fingers buried deep inside of her, the momentum of pleasure her body had been building coming to a slow halt.
“No, please, Joey… I’m so close.” Her hand dropped down to his trying to urge him to keep going.
He smirked at her deviously. “Uh-uh. That’s not how this is going to work, Layney.”
She whimpered in desperation, her body needing to spill over the edge he worked her up to.
His thumb gave another circle over her delicate bundle of nerves, causing her to curse and beg for more. Her heavy breaths resulted in her breasts struggling against the neckline of her dress which was threatening to give way.
“You’re absolutely soaked right now, and believe me when I say that I want to taste every last drop of you, but,” he slid his hand out of her raising it up to his mouth where he slowly sucked the taste of her body off one finger at a time, “this will have to do for now.”
Layne swore her body was going to crumple down to the floor of the bathroom as he left her there teetering on the edge of what had been shaping up to be an explosive climax. He released his hold on her neck and smoothed out the fabric of the snug dress she had on so that everything was back to where it should have been.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? No, come on, you can’t do this.” She groaned at having not gotten her firework ending stepping away from the door towards him.
“When you go back to your date, let this be a reminder of who owns your sweet cunt.” He leaned in claiming her mouth for a hot moment before unlocking the door and seeing himself out. Layne stood there with her body aching for satisfaction that only one person was going to be able to give to her, and he just left.
She took a few minutes to gather herself and freshen up, trying hard to ignore her screaming carnal desires that had been riled up to a full roar only minutes prior. When she rejoined Cole at the table, there was still a light flush on her cheeks.
Cole seemed surprised to see her back there sitting across from him. “I was beginning to think maybe you had ditched me.”
“No, sorry, I got a work call that I had to take.” She shifted in her seat trying to find a new sensation of comfortable where your brain wasn’t in the gutter. Her eyes glanced around to see if she could spot Joey, but if he was still lingering, he was expertly blending into the background.
Layne immediately downed what remained of her drink to attempt to wash away the sinful memories of the feel of Joey’s hand nearly melting her into a useless puddle. She apologetically looked over at Cole. “I’m sorry to do this, but I have to cut our night short.”
He seemed a bit taken back with slight disappointment painted over his face. “We haven’t even gotten to talk about your choice of dessert yet.”
She stood up, and he joined her. “I know, it’s this issue at work that is going to be a problem if I don’t go take care of it.” Layne definitely had a problem that needed tending and Cole was not going to get the job done for her.
Layne said her goodbyes to Cole and rounded up her bodyguard still up front near the coat room. When she got a peek at his phone before he pocketed it, sure enough, she saw the brightly colored shapes of Candy Crush. Damnit, she hated that Joey was right.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The establishment with the sign above it bearing the words “The Beacon” was known as Death’s Door to everyone else in the criminal underground business. There was a ton of speculation and urban legends on how it earned that nickname. Some people thought it was because of the eerie appearance of the exterior with its rotted door that had been the victim of one too many shoddy repairs. Others suggested it was because the clientele who frequented the joint met their fate with death more often than not. Layne’s theory was that some kid probably thought it sounded cool.
