Reeve drops his left hand back down between my legs and runs his knuckles over my mound. "I could feel you were bare," he mutters with a smile, "but seeing it is even better. Wish I could bend you over right here and run my tongue over you."
"Oh God," I moan as my head tilts back. Reeve uses my distraction to push two fingers in me, and I can't help but jerk in pure pleasurable torture.
"Shh," he soothes me. A quick look back over his shoulder seems to satisfy Reeve. He turns back with a big grin. "Don't want the bartender to know what we're doing, do we?"
"This is insane," I gasp as he slowly pumps his fingers. "We need to stop."
"Tell you what," he says thoughtfully, his eyes pinning me with challenge. "I'll give you a choice. You continue to let me finger-fuck you until you come, right here, or you go with me to the bathroom where we'll have a bit more privacy."
"Bathroom," I gasp as his fingers pull out of me and brush against my clit, causing my hips to rocket off the chair.
"Good choice," he growls, pulling his hand away. My own hands go to the edges of my dress, pulling it down.
Reeve turns, takes his drink, and downs it in one gulp, hissing through his teeth over the burn. I stand from the chair, grab my purse, and ignore my martini.
I don't even look backward at the bartender as Reeve takes my hand and leads me into the lobby. I have no clue where the bathrooms are, but apparently Reeve does, because he moves with purpose. He nods his head at a few people who appear to be leaving, but doesn't stop to chat.
No, this man is on a mission to finish me off.
Leading me back past the elevators, he turns right down a short hall, and I see a recessed alcove that houses men's and women's restrooms.
Reeve walks straight to the men's room, pulling me along. He pushes the swinging door open and sticks his head in, listening carefully. Satisfied it's empty, he walks in and I have no choice but to follow.
It's the first time I've ever been in a men's bathroom, and I look around curiously--marble double sink, dark navy-blue walls with copper sconces, and two urinals on the wall.
"Bingo," Reeve says, and my attention turns to the three stalls on the back wall. They're encased floor to ceiling in dark stained-wood carpentry, the front doors inset with thick louvers that are angled so you can't see in but most assuredly can see out. They afford the person--or persons, as may be the case--inside complete privacy from prying eyes.
Prying ears, probably not so much, but it's a risk that Reeve is apparently willing to take as he pulls me toward the stalls. He gives a brief rap of his knuckles on each door, and when no one answers, he chooses the stall on the end, farthest away from the sink and urinals.
Before I know it, he has me pushed inside, the door slammed shut behind us and locked, and his hands on my face to pull me in for a brutal kiss. I sink into it immediately, my own hands grasping his wrists for support, tasting the mellowness of Kentucky bourbon on his lips. Our tongues duel as he pushes me up against the side wall. He nudges one strong thigh in between my legs and then leans into me so hard I can barely breathe.
I've always felt oxygen was overrated, though, so I continue to kiss him with a rising fever within me.
Abruptly, Reeve pulls away from me, and I actually moan at the loss of his mouth on mine. I reach for him, but he bats my hands away, his breathing harsh and strained. He drops to his knees, his ass bumping into the opposite border of the stall as his hands dive under my skirt.
In one fluid motion, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and drags them down my legs. He's efficient, grasping an ankle to pull the panties free; then his hands go back between my thighs to push my legs apart.
"What are you doing?" I gasp, because all of this happened in about five seconds flat, and my lips are still tingling just from our kiss.
"Gotta taste you," he says in a guttural voice I recognize as fueled by lust.
"Oh God," I moan as his hands peel me apart and his mouth closes over me. His chest rumbles in appreciation over my taste. He runs his tongue up my center, puts his lips around my clit, and nips me with his teeth. My hips shoot off the back wall, straight into his face, and he groans in approval. He dips his chin, shoves his tongue inside me, and pumps it in and out.
And never have I ever felt something like this before. So primal, hard-edged, completely wild, and uninhibited, with no thoughts to consequences or regrets. I've never had a man move his mouth over me like this, as if his very life depended on possessing this part of me.
My head falls back, cracks loudly on the wall, and I bite my tongue to stop from screaming in pleasure.
CHAPTER 6
REEVE
Holy fucking Christ, she tastes good.
Her soft, bare pussy presses against my face, and her inner muscles contract around my tongue. Her hips gyrate, urging me on.
I feel like my lungs are constricted from the pleasure of this hard-core mouth fucking I'm giving Leary, and I'm possessed with the need to make her come harder than she ever has in her life.
I need to do that to show her that I'm in charge of her.
At least for the moment, until she manages to one-up me again.
Leary's hands come to my head, her fingers sliding through my hair and then gripping it hard. She pulls against me, shoving my face deeper into her. I pull my tongue back, lick upward slowly, and then concentrate on that clit of hers. It's swollen, stiff, and in much need of release.
I swirl my tongue around it, sometimes stiffening it to push hard, other times lapping at her gently. It's at the gentle times when she jerks my hair to silently demand I go harder. I'm so fucking turned on right now by her reaction to me, and I can't help dropping one hand to rub myself through my pants.
Fuck, I need to come.
Leary's movements against me get more insistent, and she sucks in a deep breath, her legs stiffening. She's close to blowing and I'm not ready for that to happen just yet.
Reluctantly pulling my mouth away from her, I stand up and start working my belt open.
"Why'd you stop?" Leary says with need.
I risk a glance at her and my heart slams hard against my chest over the blazing-hot lust in her eyes. Her cheeks are pink, her forehead shiny with sweat, her breasts heaving with strained breath.
I pause in my quest to free my cock just long enough to tell her, "I'm going to fuck you now. Want to be inside you when you come."
If I thought Leary's eyes were hot before, they go absolutely molten from my declaration. She stares at me just a moment; then her hands shoot out to my pants, knocking my own out of the way to work at my button and zipper.
I use the opportunity to grab my wallet out of my back pocket, and although I'm smoothly able to grab the condom I tucked in there earlier today--because I was hoping this might happen--my urgent need to fuck Leary causes me to bobble my wallet. It falls from my hands, almost lands in the toilet, but luckily bounces off to the floor. I'll worry about it later.
Leary's hands push at my pants and boxers until they move past my hips, and my cock springs free. One hand goes to the base of my erection, where she squeezes me roughly as she urges, "Hurry."
I rip open the condom and grab the tip, and while Leary holds me, I roll it on. I lean in briefly to give her a hot, deep kiss and then pull away so I can concentrate on getting inside her.
Bending down, I hoist her up under her ass, her arms immediately going to my shoulders for leverage. I push her back into the wall, reach down with one hand, and guide the head of my shaft into her slick folds. I rub it back and forth, spreading her moisture, thumping it a few times against her clit, all of which causes Leary to squirm in my arms.
With a slow circle of her hips and more guidance from my hand, the end of my cock nudges into her just a fraction of an inch. I glance down and, fuck . . . that's hot . . . me getting ready to impale her.
I look back up to Leary, and while holding her up with my forearm wedged under her ass and the support of the wall, I let
go of myself and clamp my other hand firmly over her mouth. Her eyes go wide in confusion.
"This is going to make you scream, baby," I warn her before slamming my hips forward. My cock sinks deeply into her until my pelvis is pressed tightly against hers. Just as I suspected, Leary lets a cry of pleasure loose, but my hand muffles it. I have to bite the inside of my cheek hard to suppress the animalistic sounds that want to break free.
"Shh," I whisper. "Still need to be quiet. Someone could come in."
She nods and I remove my hand from her mouth. I readjust her weight in my arms, now using both hands to spread her wide and hold her back against the wall.
Then I start moving within her. I don't bother with a slow buildup, because this is about us both getting off as quickly as we can to avoid detection, and besides, I don't want to waste that delicious orgasm that had started to break free from her before I stopped eating her pussy.
I tunnel into Leary, forcefully ramming myself into her. She closes her eyes and her lips curl upward in dreamy pleasure. Her arms tighten around my neck as I rest my forehead against hers. We both valiantly suppress the noise level we want to unleash, but there's no stopping the heavy breathing or the slapping of my skin against hers.
The debauchery of it all, the frantic fucking, the risk of getting caught--it's all almost too much to bear, and I can't hold back the orgasm that starts building inside me. I decide to let it go, hoping to God that Leary will be with me but intent on getting her off with my mouth afterward if I blow before her.
Game plan in effect for a massive fucking nut bust, I start thrusting into her faster.
That's when the bathroom door opens, and I hear two men talking to each other as they walk in.
My hips slow down, but there's no way I can stop moving. It's physically impossible for me to stop fucking Leary.
Pulling my forehead away from hers, I take a cautious look to see how she's doing, still pumping in and out of her at a much slower pace. Her eyes are filled with flaming lust and just a tiny bit of fear as she stares at me. The men continue to talk, and then I hear them both pissing in the urinals.
She mouths at me, "Don't stop."
I give Leary a mischievous grin and pick the pace of my thrusts back up. Not hard enough to create the skin-slapping sound, but deep enough to cause her breathing to start hitching again. When I hear the flush, I use the opportunity to mask the sound and slam into her hard, grinding my pelvis against hers.
Leary can't help it and lets out a tiny moan that shouldn't be heard over the flushing and the men talking, but they abruptly go silent. They move from full-blown piss chatter to utter quiet, and I know, without a doubt, that they know there are two people in the stall fucking.
This should give me pause, make me stop my movements, but God help me, it only turns me on more. Knowing there are two people out there listening to us fuck.
I raise my eyebrows at Leary to see what she wants me to do. She bites her lower lip as if in consideration while I move my cock against her shallowly. The men still don't talk, and I imagine they're probably grinning at each other, heads cocked to the side to see if they can hear anything else.
The men apparently decide to get busy with washing their hands, because the sinks turn on at the same time Leary tightens her arms around me, grinding her hips around my cock.
Breath hisses out from between my teeth, and I start to increase the depth of my thrusts once more. I keep the pace slower so as to minimize the noise of our skin slapping, but that doesn't stop me from still fucking her hard.
The sinks turn off and the men seem to be taking their time drying their hands. I smile at Leary and she smiles back at me while I continue plowing her.
I can only hope that the men leave before we reach our conclusion, because I think it's going to be a futile attempt to stay quiet, but they don't seem to be moving. I don't know how much longer I can hold back, but I'm sure as hell not going to stop, either.
The decision on when to come, though, is completely taken out of my hands when Leary reaches between our bodies and starts rubbing her clit. She gives a tiny hum when her fingers make contact, and fuck, that right there is sexy--knowing that she's desperately wanting to get off.
I can't help it. I start thrusting faster while Leary plays with herself. Blood roars in my head, so loud that I have no clue if the men have left or not, but I couldn't fucking care less. Now I'm in a desperate race to come right alongside Leary, and I start pounding her into the wall, not giving a shit who's standing out there.
Leary's the first to go. Her hand stills on her body, her eyes squeeze shut. I have to give her credit . . . she suppresses every bit of sound as her pussy clamps down hard on my dick and her body starts to shake in my arms. She comes quietly and very beautifully, and it's my undoing.
I push into her one more time, feel the fire boiling upside of my balls and shooting straight out the end of my dick. My cock spasms hard inside her, pulse after pulse of orgasmic release as I empty into her without making a fucking peep.
The roaring in my ears starts to quiet, my forehead now back against Leary's as we both try to catch our breath. My legs are so weak from that orgasm that I have to lock them so I don't drop to the floor with her in my arms.
Lifting my head, I give Leary a silent but deep kiss of satisfaction. When I pull away, she's smiling at me.
"Nice," we both hear from outside the stall.
And then another voice. "Fucking hot."
Leary snickers and then we're rewarded with the sound of the door opening and footsteps receding.
"I think you broke me," I mutter. "I have to put you down before I fall down."
Leary loosens her legs and I slip out of her, still quite hard, actually, even though I think I just emptied about a gallon into the condom. I lower her and when her feet hit the floor, I pull the condom off and throw it in the toilet.
We're both silent while we get dressed, rearrange our clothes, and take a few deep breaths to even ourselves out. I grab my wallet from the floor and carefully open the door to peek out, ensuring no one else is in the bathroom.
Motioning for Leary to wait a moment, I open the main door and take a quick look around. No one is in the immediate area, so I wave my hand at her, and she walks casually out of the men's bathroom, right past me and down the hall.
I catch up to her, grabbing on to her elbow. "Want to have another drink with me?"
"Can't," she says crisply. "Have a huge day tomorrow and I need to get some sleep."
She pulls against me and tries to turn away, but I don't let her go. Instead, I reel her back to me, grabbing on to her hips with both hands. Leaning in close to her, I ask, "So, are we just going to pretend this didn't happen?"
"Of course not," she says, but her voice still remains aloof. "But tonight, we're done."
I stare at her, intrigued by her cool demeanor when just moments ago she was writhing for release. She's utterly fascinating, completely intoxicating.
Rubbing my thumbs against her hip bones, I lean in a bit closer. "You know, you started something in that elevator. Your intention then might not have been for what just happened, but you did intend to arouse my sexual interest. And you, Leary Michaels, have no idea the beast you've awoken with your antics. You've invited me to come out and play, and now I'm ready to play."
"We just played," she murmurs, and I'm happy to see the aloof reserve has lifted from her gaze.
"And we'll play again, no doubt," I tell her with a smile. "I just don't want you to think that this is over."
Leary raises a hand, lays it over my chest, and gives me a humoring pat. "This is just sex."
"Damn right it is," I tell her gruffly, pulling her hips into mine. "But it's not just onetime sex."
"But it's not a relationship, either," she clarifies, dropping her hand from my chest. "No strings. It's just physical."
"That's fine by me," I tell her, because I'm always down with the pleasures of fucking and the avoidance of commitme
nt.
"And this cannot interfere with the case," she says sternly.
I make an X pattern over my chest. "Cross my heart. No case pillow talk."
"Then fine," she says in agreement. "We'll be fuck buddies."
I throw my head back and laugh, level it back to her when I hear her own chuckles. "Fuck buddies? I've never had one before."
"Well, I have," she says tartly. "So remember . . . it's just sex."
"Was Ford a fuck buddy?" I ask suddenly, with no clue why I've opened myself up to a truth I might not want to hear.
"Yes," she says simply, holding her gaze level with mine.
"Is he still a fuck buddy?" I ask carefully, holding my breath for the answer, because I honestly don't think I can share.
"No, he's not. We're just friends."
And one last question so I can breathe easier. "And might you have other fuck buddies?"
She gives me a wry smile. "Um . . . no. I don't have time to juggle men."
This makes me very happy for some reason and smacks of my need to avoid jealousy, which doesn't sound very no-strings to me, but I mentally shrug that thought away.
"I don't care if you have other fuck buddies, though," Leary says as an afterthought. "Just keep it wrapped . . . you know . . . for your own safety."
I stare at her, trying to figure out if she's joking or not. She doesn't smile and there's no mischief in her eyes. So that means she's dead fucking serious.
She absolutely does not care if I fuck other women.
This is intriguing to me as well as a bit appalling. I've never come up against a woman who is so sure of her own sexual identity and what she wants. It should feel liberating, but it makes me feel slightly displaced.
Reaching a hand up, I grip her by the back of her neck and pull her to my lips. My mouth closes over hers and I give her a slow kiss of understanding. When I release her, I say, "I think you might be all the woman I can handle for right now, but I appreciate your flexibility."