I push off the elevator wall and saunter closer to him. He swallows hard and, goddamn, it strikes all of the right chords inside of me. Strangely, his vulnerability is a real turn on.
“I’m not a very good girl, Jesse.”
He smirks. “That much is evident.”
I reach for his tie and let the soft, silky fabric slip through my fingers as I stroke the black fabric in slow, suggestive rhythms. Oh, how good it would feel to have it bite into my skin.
“One night and then it’s over. All I want is to peel you from your suit and to have a good time. That’s all. After that, you’ll never see me again.”
A ding rings throughout the elevator signaling our floor, and I glance at the panel.
Floor 53.
I peer at Jesse and he’s surveying my face. I wonder what he’s looking for? Reservation or a change of mind, perhaps? Then, with a sigh, he steps out of the elevator.
Geez.
Would it kill the guy to be a little more enthusiastic? I follow closely behind him until we reach a room at the end of the hall, and as he reaches out to swipe his card, I notice his trembling hand. I bite back a smile.
“You’re not a virgin, are you?” I tease as I lean against the door frame.
I try to hide my smile, but I can’t and it breaks free. Toying with him is too much fun.
“I’m thirty three years old. I’m most definitely not a virgin.” He pushes open the door. “Get inside.”
“Ooh,” I brush past him on purpose and his breath hitches. “Yes, sir.”
Inside, the room is empty. Not empty in the literal sense. It has all of its amenities of course, but it just seems… plain. I’m not sure I like any shade between white and cream. I drop my handbag and coat on the floor as I make my way over to the bed. Thankfully, there’s plenty of room to do all sorts of crazy things. My mind runs wild. I sit down on the soft mattress and run my hands over the top sheet before I flick my attention back to Jesse. He’s standing on the other side of the room with his hands stuffed into his pockets, with his face held in a serious pinch.
“Do you want to undress me, or should I do it myself?” I ask, grinning.
“What do you prefer?”
I roll my eyes. God, does everything have to be so stilted with him? Where’s the passion? The excitement of bedding someone you don’t know? Where’s the fucking panty-dropping humor and statements that leave you breathless? Do authors just make that shit up? Do any of them write from experience, or purely from fantasy? I’ve had sex with a lot of guys, more than I can count on my hands and toes—not much more, but you get the idea—and not once have I ever, ever experienced the magic these heroines do. What gives? Maybe it’s all just some sick ploy; write about situations that never happen, get readers addicted, and then make them depressed with their life so they’re never happy unless their face is buried in a book. It’s all a damn scam… that I willingly pay for.
Dammit, I’m my own enabler.
“Get over here and undress me,” I order, pushing myself to my feet.
He saunters closer. When he’s within range, my heart beat kicks up a few notches until it’s slamming against my ribcage. He smells good. Have I mentioned that before? Good god. If I close my eyes, I can almost believe I’m surrounded by a hundred naked male models—hot ones. You know, the ones you see on the cover of GQ and random fitness magazines.
“Why are your eyes closed?” he asks, as I feel his fingers curl around the base of my shirt.
I look at him. If only he knew. “No reason at all.”
I lift my arms and he tugs my shirt off over my head before tossing it to the side. I stand still for a moment as his gaze falls to my breasts. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier wearing a beautiful (and extremely overpriced) bra. His brown irises glisten as he takes it all in before he reaches around me. I cringe as his long fingers grip the straps that connect in the middle of my back. I really, really hope he doesn’t break it. Does he know how expensive it is to get a well fitting bra for someone with relatively large breasts? It’s the reason I spend my days off braless, or in a bikini. I inhale his scent as my nose rubs against the fabric of his shirt. Then, I hear two distinct bra clips, as they’re appropriately unhooked. I swallow my disappointment. As much as I didn’t want him to destroy my bra, I kind of did. How hot would that have been? Then again, underwear tearing only happens in novels, doesn’t it? Thanks a lot, Bennett, you Beautiful Bastard. I slip my arms from my bra and Jesse drops it onto the growing pile at our feet.
“Your breasts are...” I shiver as he runs the very tips of his fingers up the sides, heating my flesh. Here we go. “Extremely enticing.”
Or not. I quirk my brow and peer up at him. “Extremely enticing? Jesus, Jesse. Surely you can do better than that.”
“What do you want me to say? I’m being polite.”
“We’re about to fuck. The time for being polite is over. Loosen your tongue up a bit.”
He crushes his mouth to mine, and I part my lips as his tongue brushes against them. His taste floods me—wine mixed with the subtlest hint of mint—and my head spins. Clockwise at first, then anti-clockwise. To regain my equilibrium, I pull back.
“That’s not what I meant.” I tell him, breathlessly. “But I’ll take it.”
I press my lips to his once again, this time letting my hands slide against his stomach and around his slim hips. As I curl my fingers underneath his belt, his breath hitches and it sends a jolt of electricity through my body. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it to the floor. I pull my hands from his belt and snake them back around his body. His muscles tremble as I move, and I love it. I love the way his body reacts to my touch.
I move south in direction of his belt again and my whole body is coiled in anticipation for what he’s hiding underneath such a sophisticated piece of fabric. As my fingers fumble with the belt buckle, he snatches my wrist and pulls away.
“Wait.”
I clench my jaw. “What?”
Panting, Jesse runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Let me turn the lights off.”
Well, that’s never a good sign. I frown. “Gee, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to find that offensive or not.”
Shock registers on his handsome face and he flashes his large palms, you know, like a zoo keeper does to calm an animal. “No, no I don’t mean it like that. It would just be more comfortable for me if it wasn’t so bright in here.”
He has body issues? What is he, a teenage girl? I’m sure I’m the only one in this room with dimples on my ass. I fight the urge to face palm. Boy, I sure know how to pick ‘em.
“Fine, shut the lights off it makes you feel better.”
As he hustles over to the light switch, I make quick work of my skirt, thigh highs, and panties. There’s no point waiting for him to do it. It’s not as if he can see it anyway and he probably doesn’t want to catch ‘girl germs’ from my underwear.
When he makes his way over to me, his shirt and tie are gone, leaving a very exposed and very nicely carved torso. It’s a real shame I missed its unveiling.
I’m fully naked now and ignoring the way the cool air clings to my bare skin. Jesse’s hands find my hips and he glides them smoothly down the small of my back and over the curve of my ass. Goosebumps pop up in their wake as excitement begins to bubble inside my chest. His mouth finds my jaw line first, and he trails gentle kisses along it. I let my head fall back, giving him access to more flesh. His lips are warm and inviting enough not to write this whole night off as a fail. He inches me back bit by bit, until I feel the mattress behind my knees. With a gentle shove, I fall back on my elbows and bounce on the soft bed. My heart hammers painfully into my ribs and my blood turns to fire as he stares down at me. I can’t see it, but I can feel it—his brown irises warming my skin. I can barely make out his silhouette, and I watch intently as his long fingers undo his belt. Then, they curl around the leather and tighten before he tugs on it, and frees it from its
loops. I survey the belt he holds tightly in his hands and I’m unable to keep from grinning.
“Kinky,” I say, crossing my knee over the other. I’d never been spanked with a belt before… or maybe he’s a little like Twitch and would prefer it around my neck. Hey, whatever his fetish, I’m not going to judge.
“We’re not using the belt, Alix,” he states, tossing the belt to the side.
Thank god it’s dark otherwise he’d see my pout. In the next heartbeat, Jesse forces me to uncross my legs as he drapes his body over mine. I press my hands against his chest, sandwiching them between us. The warm skin that covers his hard muscles is smooth. He has no disfigurations that I can feel and no third nipples, so the need for darkness is still a mystery to me. I run my fingers over each ripple in his stomach and memorize every rise and depression. It won’t hurt to commit his body to memory for later.
Jesse remains silent as he kisses his way down my neck. It’s kind of awkward. I mean, of course every day people don’t really talk during sex, but for a passionate one night stand? Come on! I snake my fingers through his soft hair as he trails hot kisses down my neck and onto my chest. I shiver and moan as his tongue flicks over my nipple before his hot, wet mouth engulfs it. Sensations hit me like lightning. Every flick of his tongue jolts down my spine and settles in my toes. As he sucks at my nipple, I hear his zipper grind as he lowers it. I guess this is all the foreplay I’m going to get. The second his mouth leaves my breast, I shuffle back on the bed. Jesse kicks off his pants and his shoes and I distinctly hear the sound of a foil packet being ripped. A few quiet seconds pass before he lowers himself onto the bed and crawls towards me. I peer eagerly into the darkness, trying to get a peek at what he has to hide, but dammit! It’s too dark. He nudges my knees apart and slips into the space he’s made. I feel him then, pressed right up against my entrance and, shit, the darkness is definitely not to hide any small penis issues. Much like Clay in ‘First Night’, ‘he had it going on’. Indecent excitement begins to bubble once again as he drags himself up and down, collecting all of the moisture he can before he pushes in. My breath hitches, as does his. Then, he pauses ever so briefly and I grip his shoulders, digging my nails in.
“I’m afraid this isn’t going to be very good for you,” he mutters in my ear. “I haven’t had this in a while.”
I roll my eyes. Of course he hasn’t. Without another word, or complaint from me, Jesse fills me slowly, and carefully, as though he doesn’t want to break me. I let my fingers trail down his back and over the curve of his ass and his whole body shudders. Pleasure coils in the pit of my stomach, even though I know it’s a wasted effort. Despite that, the faster he moves and the deeper he plunges, the hungrier my pleasure becomes. Some time in, I find myself grinding my hips eagerly against his, wanting more, getting closer. If I can just push myself over the hill, this won’t all be for nothing. As soon as the thought passes, I slip my hand between us and begin to take my release into my own hands. He swears under his breath and this isn’t my first rodeo. I know exactly what it means.
“Don’t you dare, Jesse. One more minute!” I beg, digging the fingers of my right hand in to his shoulders.
I move my fingers quicker, circling faster. But I’m too late. As if to spite me, he groans loudly and his fingers squeeze my hip, pressing hard enough to leave bruises. His entire body stiffens and jerks as he pants in my ear.
He’s finished… just like that.
His body is heavy as he sags over me. I’m panting too, but it’s not because I’m satisfied, I can tell you that. Jesse slips out and rolls off of me as I run my fingers through my hair and lick my lips. Yeah, there’s no way I’m sticking around. I slip from the bed and begin to gather my stuff. I crouch low and aimlessly rub the carpet to find my things. I find my hand bag first, then my bra. To avoid wasting any more time, I stuff my bra into my handbag. I find my panties next and even manage to slip them on without falling on my ass… I think they’re inside out. Ditching the thigh highs, I grab my skirt and my shirt, and I manage to get them on in record time.
“So, uh, thanks for that… awesome time.” I mutter, slipping my heels back on and collecting my coat off of the floor.
“Alix.” He calls over my shoulder, but I ignore him.
I basically sprint for the door. He’s wasted enough of my night. Unintentionally, I slam the door and storm down the hall.
That man had a pretty face and pretty everything else, but was definitely not worth the admission price… which is saying a lot considering I didn’t pay a cent. Ha. I didn’t spend any money tonight and yet I feel ripped off.
Go figure.
Chapter Two
Alix
I open my eyes and immediately hate myself. What the hell was I thinking last night? Expensive suit, nice hair, and smooth voice does not guarantee a good time. I roll over and shield my face with a fluffy, pink cushion. Though I came home late, feeling tired as hell, I didn’t sleep well. I spent eighty percent of the night/morning tossing, turning and cussing myself out, ten percent reading and rolling my eyes at the oh-so convenient smutty sexy times, and the last ten percent actually sleeping. Now, with only three hours sleep under my belt, I’ve got to go back to work. The good news is my shift is short—brunch to four p.m. I’d call in sick, but it’s my favorite shift. It’s quiet, but not completely dead, and my friend, Sadie, is working. She’s married with four children, so she usually only works the day shifts. When she’s not working, she’s too busy with her family, so the only time I get to see her pretty face is on shifts like these.
With a huff, I throw off my pillow and kick off my blankets. Sadie is going to get such a kick out of last night when I tell her what happened. She’s always telling me I should keep my nose out of books. She claims the kind I read are bad for my brain and that they’re unrealistic and unhealthy. Maybe she’s right… maybe my expectations are a little ‘unrealistic’. I peer at my paperback copy of ‘Bared to You’ that lies on my bedside table and snort. Sadie has no idea what she’s talking about. She willingly had four kids, so her judgment has to be a little obscured. If Sadie met Gideon Cross, I’m certain she’d ditch the kids and fall for the same suit and tie act I did last night. Or not. She’s always preferred tight jeans and a cowboy hat on a man.
I swing my legs off the edge of the bed and sink my toes into the fluffy, plum colored carpet. A second later, I hear a low rumble at my door and I smile. Sure enough, the door slowly inches open and in stumbles Four, my fat Persian cat. I watch as he stretches his paws out in front of him and straightens his spine.
“Mo,” he complains, his voice barely heard.
Four has laryngeal paralysis, a condition that’s quite rare in cats. Because of it, his voice sounds more like an old man crying ‘no’ than a cat meowing. I found him by the Ferris wheel when I was in Long Beach two years ago and aptly chose his name. His caramel fur was matted and dry, feeling more like dreadlocks than fur. I’m still not sure if I stole Four or rescued him. Either way, he’s mine now.
With a husky ‘mo’, Four drags his large, round body over to me and nudges my shin with his round head. As I stare down at him, he peers up at me with his golden eyes. I wonder if all Persian cats have eyes adjacent to their nose. I wonder if all cats sleep all day and night and still look like they haven’t slept a day in their life.
“Hungry?” I ask him, reaching down to give him a hard scratch behind his ear.
“Mo.”
I rake my fingers through my hair and sigh before pushing myself off the bed. In a hurry, Four rushes out the door and I trail sleepily behind him.
Today, work is going to suck.
***
“Wait!” Sadie demands, slapping me on the arm. The sudden movement causes the head of the beer I’m pouring to flow over the edge and run down the glass. “You did what?”
I glare sideways at her and let go of the tap.
“You know what I did.” I say, not wanting to repeat myself in front of the gentleman wa
iting for his beer. I slide the beer across the bar and the man taps his credit card against the pay block. It clears instantly.
Approved.
Without a thank you, he takes his beer and goes back to his table, so to avoid eye contact with Sadie, I grab the nearest towel and begin wiping down the bar.
“You have no shame.” She teases, folding her arms tightly over her stupidly large chest. “At your place of work? You’re lucky you didn’t get caught! You know you’re not allowed to fuck the customers.”
I roll my eyes. “Who’s going to know? Mr. O’Ryan is never here and I know you’re not going to tell him.”
“You two talking about Mr. O’Ryan?” Marise asks as he walks by with a tray full of clean glasses. “His son recently moved into the penthouse suite.”
Sadie and I watch as he dumps the tray on the back bench. Then, he turns around and flicks his long, black bangs out of his face. “He’s selling the hotel and wants to keep a close eye on things.”
“Good, maybe having him around is incentive for Alix to keep her legs closed.”
Marise chuckles as I scoff and ball the tea towel up in my hands.
“Screw you.” I say, not nearly as offended as I should be. “You make me sound like some kind of nympho. Out of the thousands of customers I’ve served, I’ve only done three of them, not including the man last night. Technically, he doesn’t count. I found him when my shift was finished.”
“Ooh,” Marise’s face brightens and he steps forward, getting in as close as he can. “Details.”
I open my mouth, but Sadie snorts, cutting me off. “Don’t make her relive her night with Jesse.”
Using her hand to demonstrate just how horrible my night was, she holds her thumb and her index finger barely an inch apart. Marise roars with laughter—he even curls over. Seriously, you’d think it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
Great.
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth and purse my lips while they laugh and laugh at my misfortune. As she laughs, Sadie’s long, red curls bounce and her cheeks turn pink.