Choose Me

by Donya Lynne

  I gaze into his eyes. They’re the most interesting color. A cross between grey and blue. Hmm, maybe grey isn’t so blah, after all. I’m staring again, hypnotized.

  There’s no denying what’s happening between us. I want him. He wants me. I’ve never felt stronger chemistry with anyone. Not even my ex, who I was smitten with when I first met him. How can I feel this strongly about a man I’ve just met? I can’t say it’s love at first sight, but it’s definitely lust at first sight.

  The bartender destroys the moment by returning with our drinks. Greyson jerks away and tears his hand from mine to pull out his wallet. I hate the absence and cold air that replaces the tingly warmth that surrounded my fingers only a few seconds ago.

  He tosses two twenties on the bar. “Keep it,” he says.

  The bartender nods in thanks and tucks the bills into his palm.

  Greyson stuffs his wallet back in his pocket, hands Jess and me our drinks, then grabs his own. “Would you like to join us?” He glances toward the table on the balcony where his friends are talking up a pair of long-legged blondes.

  I exchange glances with Jess, silently imploring her not to let my time with Greyson end. She nods eagerly, and I want to kiss her.

  “Sure,” I say.

  He takes my hand and guides us up the stairs to the table and doesn’t even give the blondes talking to his friends a passing glance. More brownie points pour onto his scorecard.

  “Guys,” he says to his two friends, shouting to be heard over the music, “this is Katherine and . . .” He glances at Jess. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Jessica, but you can call me Jess.”

  The blondes move on to the next table of hot guys as Greyson gestures toward his friends. “Ladies, these are my friends, Mike and Ed.” He pulls out the chair beside the banister for me. I sit, and he slides into the seat beside me, resting his arm on the back of my chair. Jess takes the seat next to Ed.

  The music is too loud for us to talk and get to know one another, but the way sparks explode across my skin when his fingertips brush my shoulder, I’m not sure talking would do much good.

  The air crackles around Greyson and me, and I feel like we’re inside our own private bubble, even though we’re surrounded on all sides. I haven’t felt this way since college. Free and full of lusty hormones crying out for pleasure.

  As we sip our drinks, exchange heated glances, and watch the people dancing on the floor below us, as well as on the platforms across from us and above, we somehow manage to move closer to one another until my left arm is pressed lightly against his torso.

  “You smell good,” I say.

  He dips his nose against my ear. “So do you.” His breath warms my earlobe, sending a fiery shiver down my spine.

  I have to force myself not to pant as I glance over my shoulder at him. His smoldering gaze burns like flaming embers into mine then drops to my mouth as his fingers graze the back of my shoulder again. He draws closer, and that sexy, smirky grin does naughty things to the inside of my belly.

  My body tilts toward him, and my breathing deepens. His face is so close to mine. I smell his aftershave. It’s a clean, zesty fragrance that matches his overall rainforest scent. Crisp. Like tangy limes sweetened with honey. His eyes search mine, and he’s wearing a slight frown, as if he doesn’t understand his feelings or the way he’s reacting to me.

  I understand completely how he feels, because I’m just as confused by my reaction to him as he seems to be by his reaction to me.

  His mouth is inches from mine, and all I want is for him to kiss me. I need his mouth on mine to know this is real and to ground me in the moment. Kissing him would seal the deal. If he’s a good kisser, I’ll know I’ve found my summer fling. At this point, everything hinges on the kiss. He could have the smallest penis in the world, but I’m so turned on that if his kiss makes me feel half as good as his light caresses on my back and shoulder, I’ll put all my chips on Grey and consider my search over.

  The tip of his tongue wets the seam of his mouth, and I pull in my breath, preparing myself.

  Just as he begins to lean in, his friends laugh loudly at something Jess has said, and Greyson jerks away from me, turning toward them as he retrieves his arm from the back of my chair.

  My lungs deflate, and I turn away to hide my disappointment. The magical moment is gone. I’m back in the club, with frenzied techno beating the air all around me and bodies crushing in on one another in a wave of movement resembling mass fornication. An overlying buzz of intoxication—induced by both alcohol and synthetic drugs—crackles the atmosphere.

  Greyson’s hand slides around mine, drawing my attention back to him. He’s watching me.

  “Dance with me?” It’s both a request and a question.

  I bite my lip, knowing instinctively that if I dance with him, we’ll be leaving together. I don’t know how I know this, but I do. Maybe it’s the urgent, almost desperate look in his eyes, or maybe it’s the way his fingers squeeze mine. Or maybe it’s just this bizarre connection between us. All I know is that once I leave this chair, I won’t return to it.

  I’ve never had sex with a man I’ve only just met. This isn’t even a first date. I’ve known Greyson all of thirty minutes, but I’m already so turned on that if he wants to take me to the men’s room and fuck me in one of the stalls, I’m not sure I have the strength to say no.

  Have you ever felt like that? So driven by feral lust that you didn’t care where you were or who saw you? You just had to fuck? Not make love. Not have sex. But fuck? Like wild animals or cavepeople giving in to primal urges?

  “Katherine?”

  I come back into the present and hold my breath as I search his face. Can I trust him? Can I trust myself?

  “Would you like to dance?” he says again.

  I want him. I do.

  I nod and grip his hand as I shift forward in my chair.

  His smile betrays a touch of relief, and he pushes back his chair and stands, helping me out of my seat.

  Jess stares at me, her eyes wide and questioning.

  As Greyson begins to lead me away from the table, I pause and lean down until my mouth is right beside her ear. “Don’t wait up.”

  A victorious smile breaks over her face as she watches me walk away from the table.

  “Go get him,” she mouths.

  As I hold my yellow satin pocketbook in one hand and Greyson’s hand in the other and allow him to guide me down the stairs to the main dance floor, I have every intention of getting him. And once I get him, I’m not letting go for two months.

  Whether he knows it or not, Greyson just became my summer fling.

  Chapter 6

  Greyson

  As I leave the table, both Mike and Ed pass me hopeful, good-luck glances. They know the odds aren’t in my favor. Hell, I know the odds aren’t in my favor. But I can’t help myself. Katherine is just too alluring. Too captivating. Too everything-about-her-is-so-perfect. I have to at least try.

  I can’t lie, though. I’ll be devastated if she takes one look at my dick, throws her hands out in protest, and says thanks, but no thanks. But I’m hopelessly optimistic. Always have been. It’s one reason why I didn’t want to come tonight. Because, deep down, I knew I would meet someone who would set my soul on fire and put me in this position again. This position of vulnerability that could shatter not just my ego but my hope. Honestly, I’m not sure how much more rejection I can take. Then again, I always say that. Then I find myself giving romance one more try . . . and one more try . . . and one more. What can I say? I’m not a quitter. Some might even call me a masochist.

  And with Katherine stepping up against my body, welcoming my arms around her as we begin moving to the slower, deeper, sultrier tempo of the electronic dance music pumping through the speakers, I’m too far gone to stop. I’m going to give this my all. Giving my all is all I know how to do. I’m not a half-assed kind of guy. For me, if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doi
ng one hundred percent. If I’m going down, I’m going in a blaze of glory.

  Hopefully Katherine will be different. I need her to be different.

  Her skin is so soft. I can’t stop smoothing my palms over the back of her shoulders and up and down her arms. I could touch her like this all night. She’s so silky and firm.

  I close my eyes and inhale. She smells faintly of honeysuckle. Sweet, innocent . . . tantalizing.

  Her palm skims from my shoulder and down my chest, and I reach up, wrapping my hand around hers, tucking it against me as I wind my arm around the small of her back, holding her close. Her body moves with mine, our hips swiveling against one another. She has to feel my erection. I got semi-erect the moment I saw her.

  Her hips press more firmly against me, and her eyes briefly widen then drift closed, making my breath hitch. She feels me. She knows I’m hard for her. I swallow dryly, my breath coming in heavy draws. Can she tell how large I am?

  Her hips roll against mine again, and her lips part as her eyelids drag open. Her eyes are glassy, drunk with lust.

  She licks her lips. I lick mine, unable to tear my gaze from her mouth.

  “Do you want to get of here?” I say, growing more emboldened by the second.

  She nods almost numbly.

  “Me, too.” I take her hand and turn for the back of the club.

  I parked my SUV in the parking garage behind Alesca, so it’s faster to take the back exit than to leave through the front. And right now, faster is better. I can’t get Katherine out of there quickly enough.

  With purpose, I lead her through the crowd, pushing my way between bodies pressed more tightly together than a nun’s thighs, never once letting go of her hand. She remains glued to my heels, seemingly as eager to get out of there as I am.

  Reaching the back hall leading to the exit, we hurry to the door and push through.

  “I’m parked in the garage.” I point across the street, and we hustle to the side entrance.

  I hold the door open for her then trail inside after her.

  “Elevator.” I tug her with me then slap the up button.

  The doors open, and we’re inside. I hit the button for the third level.

  Our hands are clamped together like a pair of vice grips latched on to each other, and our heavy breathing is apparent in the silence of the elevator as it begins its slow upward climb.

  I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She does the same. I can feel the heat pouring out of her. Physical heat and hormonal heat. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on, and I’ve never been with a woman who looked at me as salaciously as she is now.

  My cock twitches, and the tension fractures like a tree trunk being snapped in half in a windstorm.

  “Fuck it.” I’m on her in less than a second.

  My mouth finds hers as I press her back against the paneled wall. She mewls her approval into my mouth as our tongues slide together. She tastes of alcohol and peppermint. Her lip gloss? Wherever the flavor comes from, I like it, and I devour her lips.

  Her body welcomes mine, and she tugs me closer as I pull her hips forward and drive myself against her.

  She moans into my mouth like she’s in heat, so I do it again. She breaks away and tips her head back, panting hard through parted, swollen lips.

  I’m stunned. She has to feel how large I am. I’m practically dry humping her, so she can’t have any illusions over what she’s about to see when I get her to the SUV. My cock isn’t just forming a tent in my pants, it’s forming a goddamn pyramid. Yet I don’t sense an ounce of hesitancy or panic. If anything, her desire has ratcheted up another couple of notches.

  The doors open, and I take her hand. “Come on.”

  She briefly wobbles as if her knees have gone weak, and then she’s charging out of the elevator behind me as I pull her in the direction of my SUV. The clacking sound of her heels echoes at a rapid tempo off the concrete walls.

  Reaching inside my pocket, I press the button on my key fob to unlock the doors.

  The SUV beeps twice, and I yank open the rear passenger door, but before I step aside to let her climb in, I press her against the side of the SUV and stare hard into her eyes.

  “Please tell me you like your men big.” I search her face, looking for any sign of reticence, barely breathing as I wait for her response.

  A twinkle lights in her eyes, and she bites her bottom lip. “How big?” Her voice is flirty and breathless.

  Her response encourages me, and I snatch her hand and plant it on my crotch. “This big.”

  I’ve got eleven inches of erection straining to get to know her better. Will she run? Or will she stick around for more?

  _________

  Katherine

  My eyes go wide as I feel just how huge Greyson is. I knew he was big. I could tell that much on the dance floor, and I’d confirmed it in the elevator when he ground himself against me. But feeling him in the palm of my hand through all that rich Armani fabric seals my curiosity.

  Greyson is more man than I ever could have imagined. He isn’t just huge. He’s enormous.

  Curling my fingers around his girth, my mouth waters, and I drop my gaze to stare at just how far out from his crotch his cock is straining. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmur, massaging up and down his length, trying to gauge just how big he is.

  He starts to pull away, and I look up to find he’s wearing a pained expression.

  “Too big?” He frowns, and his jaw tightens.

  I’m not sure what he’s talking about. “What?” Then it dawns on me. He misunderstood what I meant. He thinks I was put off. “No, Greyson . . . I—”

  “It’s okay.” He removes my hand and takes another step back. My heart breaks at his forsaken expression. “Most women can’t . . .” He sighs and looks away. When he turns back, he forces a smile and reaches to take my hand. “Come on, I’ll take you back to Alesca and—”

  “Oh no you don’t.” I snatch my hand from his and plant it back on his cock. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  He stops and frowns at me, utter confusion falling over his face. “But . . .”

  “Did I say you’re too big?”

  His frown deepens. “No.”

  “Did I give any indication that I don’t want this?” I rub my hand up and down his length.

  He sucks in his breath and sways forward, throwing his arm out to catch himself against the side of the SUV so he doesn’t fall against me. His head bows forward to watch my hand ride up and down his length through his pants, and then he lifts his dazed eyes to mine. “But . . . I thought . . .”

  “You thought wrong.”

  Awareness sparks to life in his eyes.

  After tossing my pocketbook into his SUV, I grab a handful of his shirt and haul him forward. “Greyson, I’ve been waiting for a man like you my whole life. Now are we going to do this or not?”

  His eyes dance back and forth between mine, and then in a rush of fire, he grips the side of my face in his free hand and claims my mouth again.

  I think my knees are going to melt, as well as other parts of me. He has strong lips that demand mine into submission. Jesus! Not only does he have the penis of my dreams, but with the naughty thoughts his mouth is inspiring, I’m beginning to wonder if he’s too good to be true. Did someone slip LSD into my drink when I wasn’t looking, and all this is just an erotic hallucination?

  “Are you real?” I gasp, coming up for air.

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He shuffles me toward the open door.

  I back in, and he flows in after me, surging over me like an ocean wave as I lie back on the leather seats. He rocks between my legs, and my pussy weeps to have him inside me.

  Where has Greyson been all my life? Why am I only just now finding this remarkable man?

  Our mouths fuse together in a fiery, erotic dance as he grinds against me, stoking the electric current flowing between us to delirious levels. I can already f
eel an orgasm rising inside me.

  My fingers claw at his back, my hips circling and rising to meet his as he dry fucks me.

  He lifts up, and I hear the jangle of his belt, and I reach down to help him release his anaconda. The thought makes me giggle.

  “What?” He grins at me as he continues fumbling with his buckle.

  “Nothing.” I smile and work at the snap on his pants. I lift my head and find his mouth, and once more his tongue glides over mine, and he’s swallowing my moans as our fingers join at his zipper.

  It lowers, and then my hands are briefly inside his underwear before he gets the chance to shove them down with his pants.

  He shifts to his knees and pulls me up then settles into the seat with me on his lap. The moment my gaze lands on his exposed cock, I freeze. God, it’s even bigger than I imagined. Big and glorious and virile. Not just long but thick. Very thick. It’s the kind of cock I’ve always wanted.

  He’s watching me, his expression concerned and hesitant. As if he’s afraid I’m going to reconsider now that I’ve seen him in the flesh.

  The only thing I’m reconsidering is whether I want to take him in my mouth before I take him inside my pussy. After all, a cock this magnificent deserves to be worshipped.

  I fall to my knees on the floor in front of him, and his eyes fly open as he presses his hands against the leather seat, bracing himself.

  “Katherine, you don’t—” He gasps sharply as I grip the base of his erection and flick my tongue over the tip. “Jesus!” His eyes bulge as I slowly open my mouth and take in the head, lapping my tongue against the ridge on the underside.

  Then I oh-so-carefully lower my mouth on him. He’s so big he almost doesn’t fit, and I’m sure a lot of women’s mouths are too small for this sexy beast of a cock. Feeling the head graze the back of my throat, I push him deeper.

  I’m blessed to have been born without a gag reflex, something my ex-husband loved since it allowed me to deep-throat him.

  I’ll admit, I’ve always had a thing for swallowing dick. I might be a proper-looking businesswoman who dresses conservatively in the office and behaves like a lady out in the world, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get my freak on in the bedroom. You’ve heard the saying, a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets? That’s me. At least when it comes to giving head. I love the feeling of a thick cock in my throat. There’s something empowering about how it makes me feel. It’s as if I’m in command and hold complete control. The way a man looks down at me—awed and lust drunk—when I’m on my knees in front of him, with his cock down my throat in a way many women can’t manage, makes me feel powerful and gloriously beautiful.