Hitch

by Anne Conley

  “I’ll have whatever she’s having,” Dex said when the bartender approached them.

  The woman raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips but didn’t say anything as she filled a cup with ice and pushed the button on the nozzle for ginger ale, setting it down in front of Dex and skillfully tossing a cherry on top of it. She had to know they were cops, but she didn’t say anything.

  Dex moved closer to Amber. The scent of whatever he’d showered with overwhelmed her—something spicy and dangerous—and clouded her thought processes. “Pretend. They’re shaking hands and about to part ways, which means our boy’s going back up to his room.” Then his mouth descended on her earlobe, taking it between his teeth, and Amber’s insides uncoiled in a traitorous move that left her breathless.

  “Okay,” she gasped as her hands reached for those forearms and grasped the strength within Dex as hard as she could. A rumble went through the man whose hands roamed up her thighs, slipping between her clenched muscles effortlessly.

  His mouth moved to a spot behind her ear, teeth nipping and suckling, until she very nearly moaned. In her peripheral vision, she saw the men stand, and she squeezed his arms harder. He stopped the sucking but kept his mouth where it was, inhaling her scent while she watched through slitted eyes as the gray-headed man stood and shook Terry Perkins’ hand.

  “Tomorrow, ten o’clock,” he said, loud enough for her to hear.

  “Ten it is,” Perkins replied.

  Where? Amber needed to know where they were meeting. Where? Say it.

  The men parted ways, and Perkins sauntered over to the bar, tossed a bill on it next to where Amber and Dex were canoodling, and turned to head to his room.

  Dex muttered, loud enough for Perkins to hear, “My room. Now,” then grabbed her hand and followed Perkins to the elevator.

  Amber went willingly, hoping this was a game he was playing, and nothing more. Sure, she wanted him. His words earlier were echoing in her head, but she needed to get Perkins.

  Perkins stood waiting for the elevator, and Dex pushed the already lit “up” button with an urgency before wrapping his arms around Amber again and attacking her neck with his mouth. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she struggled to remain upright.

  “Fuck, these boots are sexy, doll face,” he said loud enough for half the lobby to hear. Amber fought the mortification that rose up in her and hoped the people staring didn’t think she was a hooker. Then Dex found a particularly sensitive spot on her shoulder and she very nearly came unglued as shivers raced across her body and she trembled in Dex’s arms.

  When the elevator dinged, Perkins got in and Dex rushed her after him, crowding her in the back after pressing the button for the top floor. Amber saw Perkins push the button for the sixth floor, then Dex’s mouth was on hers and she forgot what they were doing.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he whispered between kisses down her neck while his hands clutched her hips and breast. She knew his words were for Perkins’ benefit, but they thrilled her insides nonetheless. Playing along, Amber wrapped her hands around his neck, and Perkins coughed, looking at the floor. Dex’s hands went to her ass and lifted her, rubbing an erection against her core. Amber was helpless. She just let instinct take over and wrapped her legs around him, whimpering in his ear as he kissed her into oblivion. Shocks and sparks and light and all the sensations shot from her core as the hard ridge of Dex pressed against her clit. Amber rubbed against him, the lace of her panties creating delicious sensations against his bulge, needing relief from the almost painful ache in her pussy. She wondered if he had a perma-erection, or just a huge package, because every time she’d seen the man, she noticed a very visible protrusion in his pants.

  Or maybe she was just a pervert.

  She was so close to coming—it had been too long—and the fact she was in an elevator with a stranger listening to her moans and gasps didn’t hinder a damn thing. In fact, the presence of someone else might have just hit on some buried voyeurism fantasy or something because Amber was on fire. Oblivious to anything besides the tumultuous sensations happening inside her, she rubbed against him wildly, up and down over his erection, which stuck straight up in his pants. Amber no longer cared about who was watching, she only wanted to come. Her ass was propped up on the handrail, and Dex’s massive hand held her while his other hand was working its way inside her dress. The slick heat between her legs was clenching, and all it would take was a few more strokes dry-humping Dex right here, right now, and she’d be getting off. Her gasps and moans filled the air, along with Dex’s heavy breathing and occasional soft noises from the back of his throat.

  The elevator dinged at the sixth floor, and Perkins muttered a “have fun, guys” before stepping onto his floor. When the doors shut, Dex froze, then slowly let her loose. His hands were shaking and didn’t let go. While his head was still dipped down to her collar, thankfully, his mouth had stilled.

  He took in a ragged, hitching breath, and expelled it as he took a step back.

  “Fuck.”

  Amber didn’t say a word as she straightened her dress, glad that had been a farce, but disappointment still flooded her veins and made her feel heavy. Her entire body pulsed and buzzed, knowing she would come with a wild scream at the smallest touch.

  She gave herself a mental slap. She didn’t need to get involved with Dex right now. They had shit to do.

  But she had almost gotten off in an elevator. She still wanted to. All it would take was one swipe of his fingers across her clit and she’d have the orgasm of her life, but Dex turned his back to her and pressed the button for their floor, saying nothing. His shoulders were hunched and his head bowed as he looked at his feet, adjusting his erection and blowing out a breath.

  Amber squirmed in the corner of the elevator, a total mess. She was tingly all over and really wanted to finish what they’d started.

  But it wasn’t real. They had been playing a part. That was all. She had to remind herself of that.

  After an eternity of fidgeting in the corner, the elevator stopped at their floor and Dex got out, holding the elevator for her. She followed, her legs shaky, and he held his hand at her back, keeping her at arm’s length on the way back to the room. When they got inside, she half expected him to push her up against the door and finish what he’d started, but he walked to the door to his room and stopped, turning to stare at her.

  The blue of his eyes had darkened to an impossible color. His heat was radiating off him in waves, and she saw he was affected by their little episode, but he was trying to remain a gentleman.

  Even though his words from earlier still rang in her head. I won’t be a gentleman when we finally do this. Amber wanted that to be now. She didn’t want the gentleman. She wanted him to take her, to fulfill the promise he’d made on the elevator.

  “Dress for sightseeing tomorrow. We need to be in the lobby by seven o’clock. There’s no telling where they are meeting.” He raked a hand through his hair, disheveling it and making him look totally fuckable. “I’m driving. You can’t tail for shit.” He smiled at her, but it looked a little disappointed. His hand white, clenching the doorknob of his bedroom, he moved to go inside but stopped in the open doorway. “I’m exerting a lot of fucking self-control here because you said you wanted to get this guy first. You’d better get inside your damn room now, or else I’m not going to be able to stop myself, Amber.”

  She scampered into her room and shut the door, almost before he stopped speaking. The words were what she needed to hear. He was abiding by her wishes. He hadn’t been unaffected. He still wanted her. It was a show but based in reality. And something about that made her nearly spontaneously combust.

  Taking off her boots, she tossed them in the closet and looked at the full-sized bed, dreading getting under the sheets alone. Her body was so highly sensitized; she longed to feel Dex’s skin against hers and knew she’d have to take matters into her own hands.

  Fuck it. She took off her dress and pan
ties and reached for her pajamas but stopped as she eyeballed the bed. She didn’t usually sleep naked, but she was desperate for relief, and the idea of feeling the sheets on her sensitive skin sounded decadent. She wanted to feel her naked, heated body against the coolness. Stripping the comforter off and piling it in the corner, she slipped between the sheets and gave a luxurious stretch and roll, letting out a soft moan, relishing the contact with the smooth sheets and soft mattress.

  Thank God for nice hotels.

  Settling in for a night of self-love, she caressed her body, feather-light touches designed to get her back where she was in the elevator. Amber spent some time on her breasts, trying to mimic what she imagined Dex would do if he ever got his hands on her again. Not much happened, even replaying the heated moments of the elevator inside her head. So she dipped her hands lower. She was still wet down there, but her fingers were unable to give her the relief she so desperately needed, no matter what she did.

  She let out a frustrated groan, not realizing how loud it was until she heard pounding footsteps coming from Dex’s room across the suite.

  He was coming. For her.

  The closer he got, the more aware Amber became. He’d heard her trying and failing to make herself come. She scrabbled at the sheets to cover herself, but he came barging into her room wearing the same pants he’d had on in the bar, top button undone, as if he’d put them on in a rush.

  No shirt.

  Damn.

  Aaaand she was back.

  All it took was one look at his heated gaze and she very nearly orgasmed on the spot, but he wasn’t letting her get off that easy, no pun intended. As he stood in the doorway, she tried to imagine what he saw in that fierce blue gaze that paralyzed her.

  She lay naked in her bed, clutching the sheet to her chest, certainly blushing from head to toe with horniness she couldn’t relieve herself. And Dex looked up to the challenge.

  “I hate to leave you like this. That’s mighty rude of me.” The sarcasm was thick in his voice as he stalked toward her, and Amber felt herself shrinking. “Let me take care of it for you.” Sarcasm melted to a genuine offer that hung thick in the darkness between them. She nodded before she realized what she was doing.

  His gaze traveled over her body, as if trying to decide where to start, as he approached the end of the bed. Grasping the sheet in one hand, he whipped it off of her—letting it land wherever it would—and let out a hiss of air.

  Dex’s massive hands spanned her ankles and yanked her to the end of the bed as he dropped to his knees. She was fully exposed, and it had been a damn long time since she’d been with a man this way. But words failed her as Dex blew across her heated flesh and inhaled deeply.

  She squirmed at the sensations, but he tossed her legs over his shoulders and grasped her thighs, holding her tightly. When he descended on her, his mouth was hot—like, lava hot—and she arched off the bed with a cry.

  “That’s it. Make noise. I want to hear you.”

  She complied, mindless as his mouth went to work lapping at her sex like a puppy, his rough tongue swirling around her nub before attacking it.

  It took absolutely no time before she was screaming her passionate release, her noises and panting echoing around the room. The smell of her hung in the air, and Amber looked down to see Dex watching her with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Oh, God. Thanks.” What did one say after an orgasm like that? She felt awkward, not having a clue how to act. He’d come in here specifically to do that, but he didn’t look like he was leaving anytime soon. “You want me to … um …”

  “Fuck no. But I’m doing that again,” he said with a wicked grin as he stood up between her legs. His bulge was enormous, and she writhed as she imagined him thrusting in and out of her.

  “I can’t … I’ve never had more than one,” she muttered weakly as his eyes devoured her body. Helpless, her muscles oatmeal, she watched as he lowered himself over her body and kissed her.

  She’d never tasted herself before and realized it wasn’t bad as long as it was mixed with the flavor of Dex. He swirled his tongue in her mouth as he pumped his erection against her delicate folds, still sensitive from the orgasm. Then his head dipped lower and he made love to her breasts like a starved man devouring a steak dinner.

  His fingers found her folds and plunged inside, avoiding her sensitive clit. She moaned as he worked her into a frenzy again, his mouth on her nipples, tugging and sucking, and his fingers pumping in and out of her.

  She heard the evidence of her arousal, a wet, spurting noise made by his fingers jutting in her sex. He scissored his fingers, spreading her, and he hit something inside that made her cry out as she writhed on the bed.

  And he watched her. His mouth around her nipple let go with a plop as his lips, swollen from kissing her, grinned.

  Then he went lower.

  He was going to do it again.

  Her hands clutched at the sheets, and she felt one corner pop off, giving her more to grasp as she mindlessly threw her head back. When his mouth descended on her mound once more, his tongue flicked lightly across her sensitive nub as his fingers rubbed that spot inside her.

  Amber didn’t know if it was because she was so sensitive from the other orgasm, or if it was purely Dex’s ministrations, but she felt herself climb ever higher. She was about to come and come hard, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it.

  She didn’t want to.

  As he redoubled his efforts, she started in on a litany of babbling. “Don’t stop. Keep going. Yeah. Yes. Right there. Right fucking there. Jesus Christ. Oh God. Yes. Don’t stop. Oh God. Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod …” And on and on until she couldn’t even understand herself.

  And he followed directions marvelously.

  Vibrations hit her as he groaned or moaned or something, his thick fingers rubbing her spot while his tongue flicked. His hot breath hit her, and cool inhales chilled her as he gasped his need while taking care of hers.

  “I’m coming, ohgodohgod.”

  The ache intensified until it bloomed into a heat that spread throughout her body, igniting a flame inside her that exploded into an inferno. She saw stars, bright-white light invading her peripheral vision, and she wondered if she was blacking out as her thighs quaked.

  Dex was still licking and sucking on her, and her thighs involuntarily clamped around his head until he stopped, a triumphant grin lighting his eyes. As he kissed the inside of her thigh, his stubble left a red mark on her pale skin she couldn’t stop looking at. He’d marked her.

  She wondered vaguely if he was going to fuck her now. As limp as she was, she was willing. But he rose and kissed her forehead before raising the sheet over her body and putting it back on the bed.

  “What about you?” Her voice was hoarse and breathy, completely unrecognizable. She sounded like a woman well-satisfied.

  “I can take care of myself. If I start loving on you, I won’t stop until the sun comes up, and we’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

  That was an image she could get behind.

  “Get some rest, doll face.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, Amber was too embarrassed to make small talk after what had happened. She didn’t know how to handle things with Dex, and was pretty sure she would say the wrong thing, so she just stayed in her bedroom. Thankfully, there was a coffee pot in there, so she didn’t really have a reason to go out into the living area, where Dex was banging around.

  At seven o’clock, she was in the lobby. Dex had already positioned himself on one of the sofas with an assortment of tourist brochures spread out on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he patted the couch next to him.

  Feeling the awkwardness of the morning after, Amber was pissed at herself. She’d sworn she wouldn’t do this, let her hormones dictate everything. She sat next to him, crossing her arms and legs, and shrank in on herself.

  He draped his arm around her familiarly and t
ugged her closer, against his warm hip. She’d dressed in jeans, her worn-out cowboy boots, and a green sweater. She’d honestly spent way too much time coming up with this effortlessly casual look, but she knew the sweater made her eyes look a little hazel, instead of shit-brown, and the jeans fit her better than most. The boots were stylish and old enough they were comfortable for walking, although if they would be running much, the soles might slip on concrete.

  Dex was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over it. She could see the planes of his chest and abs and hoped it would warm up enough today that he might roll up the sleeves, or take off the over shirt, because holy hell did his forearms do stuff to her.

  Not that his tongue didn’t.

  She was blushing again. She knew it. She could feel the heated blood in her chest as it started its journey to her face. Oh well. Dex did shit to her. She couldn’t deny it.

  He dipped his head down to hers and swiped a kiss across her temple. “You okay this morning?”

  She nodded, pressing her lips together. “Sure.”

  He rubbed his free hand down his thigh, as if pulling his jeans away from his crotch, and her eyes went there against their will.

  “Watching you come is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His heated whisper in her ear sent a flutter of goose bumps across her skin, and she rubbed her arms to smooth them out. “I’m not even going to tell you how many times I had to take myself in hand last night.”

  “Then don’t.” Her breathless whisper sounded funny in the crowded lobby with people going here and there, everyone with places to be. She didn’t want to know, but the image of him masturbating took hold and wouldn’t let go.

  Dex cleared his throat and took his arm back, reaching for the biggest tourist magazine to look at between them, as if they were planning their day.