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“I know I’m not a local,” she says, “But aren’t there other places to drink in town?”
“There are,” I say. “Would you like directions?”
She says, “No, I’m fine right here. My room’s upstairs.”
“You have a room?” I ask incredulously.
“I didn’t feel like driving two hours back home to drive two hours back tomorrow morning,” she says. “Is that a problem?”
“No, that’s fine,” I say. “Just do me a favor and spare me the self-righteous attitude.”
She is silent for a moment, a minor miracle. Even more miraculous, when she speaks again, she says, “I’m sorry about your friend,” and there’s no trace of sarcasm in her voice.
I regard her and nod. “Yeah, me too.”
She is silent another moment, then says, “I know I’m a little much to deal with, but I’m not a liar. If I determine your friend’s claim is valid, I’ll approve it without any funny business.”
I’m not sure how to respond, so I only say, “Thank you.”
She falls silent again. My drink arrives and we sip silently next to each other for twenty minutes or so before she says, “Hey, as long as we’re here and both pissed off, how would you like to spend some of this excess energy exchanging orgasms?”
I’m not used to a woman being so forward and under normal circumstances, I would accept without hesitation. Since these are not at all ordinary circumstances… Yeah, I’m full of shit. With this girl, I have no choice but to accept without hesitation.
CHAPTER THREE
Kellie
It’s like a movie.
You know the type.
The man and woman can’t keep their hands and mouths off each other in the elevator. Then, they can’t really keep from trying to kiss and touch each other as they make their way down the hall to the door to the room. There’s a lot of fumbling trying to get the door open, and when they finally succeed in getting it open, they almost fall through it in their haste to get to the sex now that they have the freedom of privacy.
I’m so fucking desperate for this man, it isn’t even funny.
Sure, part of that has to do with the fact that I almost brought myself to orgasm thinking about a fantasy version of him. A much greater part of it, though, is that the fantasy is indeed a version of Stone. This man is exactly what I picture, and now I know what it’s like to have someone step right out of a dream into my life like some kind of god.
He kicks the door almost absently while his mouth is on mine, and the power of that kick is strong enough that the door slams loudly. The sound of it seems to send a shockwave of sensation over my body. My nipples, already hard, turn into bullets that feel almost painfully ready for his touch, and my pussy feels so damned needy it’s like I’m a caricature, some animated sexpot sighing desperately for the hunk in front of her.
I guess that’s not all that far from the truth.
And this man knows just what I want. No matter how I stood up to him and argued with him on the scene or at the bar, what I want in the bedroom is a man who takes control. A man damned well better treat me like the strongest woman in the world before our clothes come off but once we’re headed toward the bedroom, he needs to turn into an animal, so to speak.
Yeah, I guess that sounds like a contradiction. It’s not. I need a man strong enough not to be threatened by me, meaning he embraces that I’m strong but isn’t intimidated by that strength. In the bedroom, I want his strength to show, and I damned well want a man to fuck the hell out of me, not to touch me with kid gloves. From the way he kisses me and the way his hands already have a firm hold of me, I’m confident Stone will have no problem fucking the hell out of me. I’m also confident he’s never owned a pair of kid gloves. As stupid as it sounds, I’ll be thrilled if he just tears my shirt open and the buttons go flying.
God, where the hell are my hands?
They’re clinging to his back. It’s like I can’t move them or something. I slide them down just to make sure I can and once I figure out, they can move I start pulling his shirt up and out of his pants.
I manage to get his shirt off but that’s where I stop because his hand slides into my pants then and I freeze as a bolt of energy causes my body to stiffen and the air to rush from my lungs. My hands clap against his chest and when they contact the rock-hard muscles on his torso, a shiver of pleasure runs through me, intensifying the feelings his fingers give me as they stroke my pussy with the same incredible mixture of power and control that he exhibits with all of his movements.
“Oh, God, Stone,” I moan as he uses his other hand to remove my pants and underwear and slide them down to my ankles. When I am naked, his lips close around my nipples, and the sensations that pulse through me increase a hundredfold.
“Oh my God!” I cry out as my body is suddenly seized by uncontrollable waves of pleasure that reverberate through me from head to toe.
When my orgasm hits, he moves his mouth from my nipple to my ear where he growls, “Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.”
His voice is so powerful and stern that it instantly intensifies my orgasm and I have to cling to him for dear life to keep from falling over. Finally, my legs give out and I sink to my knees in front of him.
