Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol)

by Fiona Cole

  No. I didn’t want to save anything for him—especially not my fantasies. I wanted to live those out on my own terms. He could earn my affection later, like my mom said he would. For now, I was ready to deliver a big fuck you to the man who assumed he could boss me around.

  Fuck being a goody-two-shoes.

  “Let’s do it,” I said before I could change my mind.

  “Yay,” Raelynn squealed.

  “If anything goes wrong, I’ll just blame it on the champagne.” I raised my glass, and she tapped hers against it, both of us downing the fizzy bubbles.

  I followed her to the lobby and giggled when the alcohol finally reached my bloodstream, making me lightheaded.

  She approached a man in a suit behind the concierge desk, and he produced a pen and paper. My eyes widened at all the selections. There was an age block, fetishes, hard limits, and a line for any extra notes. I made sure to write down Camden’s name and my father’s in the space for requests the match not be, because better safe than sorry. I crossed off the option for a room, wanting to be able to escape whenever. What that meant, I didn’t know, but a thrill shot through me thinking about all the places that could replace a room.

  Without thinking too much, I slid the paper back to the man and pulled my hand back before changing my mind.

  “Instructions will be delivered when a match is made,” he said with a curt nod.

  Raelynn linked her arm in mine and tugged me back into the ballroom. “You won’t regret this. I’ve never had a bad experience.”

  “How often do you do this?”

  “Why do you think I actually attend these events?”

  I thought of all the times she’d gone home to attend a gala with her family over the years. “Damn, Rae.”

  “Hey, no judgment.”

  “None at all.”

  “Come on, brave little toaster. I think one shot is in order.”

  On our way to the bar, my eyes caught on a familiar silver mask. He stood taller than the others in his circle of conversation, but his attention wasn’t on them.

  It was on me.

  My heart fluttered like a bird trapped in a cage, begging to be set free. A thrill of excitement shot through me, imagining him as the man I got paired with tonight. His head tipped to the side, and I held his stare until a group of people moved between us, breaking the contact.

  “Two shots of tequila, please,” Raelynn ordered once we reached the bar. With glasses in hand, we lifted them high. “To bad influences.”

  “To the best influences.”

  We tapped our glasses and downed the tart liquid, bringing a lime to our lips.

  “Hey, I see an acquaintance. Do you mind if I leave your side for a moment?”

  “No. Go ahead. I think I’m going to hang out here for a bit.” I could use some time in the corner of the bar to gather my bearings.

  “Okay. Let me know if you need me.”

  Surprisingly, only a few minutes after she left, a man approached, sliding a folded card across the bar top, meeting my gaze with a serious one of his own before releasing the card and walking away.

  I snatched it up with trembling fingers and swallowed hard, opening it.

  Meet me on balcony four.

  That was it—nothing else. No time. No instructions or hints about what would happen.

  Balcony four was the one on the floor above us. I wasn’t even sure if I could get there.

  Would I be able to make it to where he wanted me? What if I didn’t? Would I miss the opportunity? Did I ask for a redo?

  I shook my head. If I let myself, I’d sit there all night, thinking of every scenario, but none of them mattered unless I actually tried. I’d come this far, I needed to go all the way.

  Pulling my shoulders back, I gripped the card tight and walked with confidence. If I looked like I belonged, maybe no one would stop me.

  I climbed the stairs, and the music slowly faded. The carpeted floor muted the sound of my heels as I approached the closed doors, fully prepared for them to be locked. No one was around when I gripped the handle and tugged, surprised when they opened without a fight. Slipping through the crack I’d created, I looked around to see if anyone noticed, but I was alone. In the dark, I could make out a smaller ballroom with glass doors across the floor, leading to the large balcony.

  Twisting my mother’s ring again, I took my first step, halting at the loud clip my heels made on the hardwood. Rather than giving in to the tension screaming at me to turn and run, I pushed on. Power and strength surged through me with each step closer to the balcony.

  I half expected someone to be waiting for me when I opened the glass doors, but it was merely the dark sky sparkling with the lights of the city. Faint music reached up, and I walked to the railing to find the party right below us. Partygoers mingled on the balcony below, smoking and laughing with friends.

  I’d been so focused on everyone else, I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t alone until two hands with long fingers wrapped around the edge of the stone railing. Arms encased in black caged me in. Heat poured off him, bringing my skin to life before he’d even touched me.

  I’d been ready to bolt, to change my mind and demand he set me free when his deep, rich voice ghosted along my cheek.

  “Don’t turn around.”

  Eight

  Nico

  “What?”

  Her whispered word hit me with a familiarity, just a prick at my conscience before it fell away into the night.

  “Don’t turn around.”

  Despite my order, her head jerked to the side, her bold red lips coming into view. As punishment, I leaned down and nipped her ear, soothing it with a lick. Her gasp shifted to a soft oh, her lips forming the perfect circle I wanted to slide my cock into.

  “Don’t talk.” I pressed my chest to her back, grinding against her to let her feel how hard I already was. “Just feel me.”

  Her chest heaved over her labored breathing, and I ached to tug the fabric aside and bare the hard tips pressing against the thin fabric, but I used restraint, instead focusing on her petal-soft skin as I dragged my fingers up her arms. Goose bumps rippled along her skin, and her head fell forward at the same time she pressed into me.

  I’d noticed her as soon as she’d come into the room. Her body wrapped in red, the dress twisted in ways it looked like one wrong move could lead to a peep show. Her dark hair piled on her head had me itching to rip the pins free just so I could watch it cascade down her back.

  Half her face was covered by the black lace mask, but the perfect cupid’s bow of her full lips reminded me of a woman I couldn’t escape.

  Verana.

  I knew it wasn’t her. I’d overheard her at the office, talking of plans with friends this weekend. But in that moment, I wanted it to be her.

  So, when I’d made my request, I asked specifically for the woman in red. It wasn’t always one-hundred-percent, but the fifty-dollar tip helped. Walking into the upstairs room to find her leaning out against the railing of the balcony, her back bare and begging me closer, I knew I would’ve paid five-hundred dollars to make sure this woman was the one waiting for me.

  For tonight, I’d allow myself this fantasy—just once—to exorcise my demons.

  I issued my command to face forward and not speak. I didn’t want to take the chance of her mask coming off and breaking the illusion. I didn’t want to hear a voice that wasn’t Verana’s. Maybe tonight would ease the ache—the frustration—and I could put her behind me.

  I skated my fingers along the fabric where it stretched across her neck, dropping them to skim the black floral lace that spread along a single shoulder blade like it was reaching for her spine. Her muscles tensed when I dragged a single finger down each vertebra. She gasped when my hands spanned her hips. She was so small, my thumb dug into the ripe flesh of her ass at the same time my fingers pressed into the hollows of her hips. I couldn’t wait to hold her here in place as I fucked her hard.

  Soon.

&nbs
p; First, I wanted her panting and wet. I wanted to know if she tasted as delicious as she looked.

  “Hold on to the railing,” I said against the hot skin of her neck.

  With her fingers pressed to the cement, I jerked her hips back, forcing her to stumble a few steps back. Her back arched and presented her ass perfectly to me.

  With the first press of my lips to her back, she arched more, searching to make contact. I worked my lips down as my fingers slowly inched the fitted skirt up. By the time I reached the base of her back, she could barely stand still, rocking side to side to help me move her dress higher while also causing friction between her legs.

  “Don’t move,” I ordered again.

  She nodded jerkily, and I dropped to my knees, skimming my hands up her firm legs. Her dress rested just below the cheeks of her ass, and I pushed my fingers under the fabric, shoving it up and over, baring every creamy inch to me.

  She tensed, squeezing her thighs in modesty, and I groaned at her sweet scent that hit me.

  Only a thin layer of black lace stood in my way, and I considered ripping them off, not wanting to wait a second to bury my tongue inside her, but I liked the tension threatening to snap between us. I wasn’t ready to give it up.

  I took my time easing the delicate fabric down her legs, directing her to lift her leg to step out of them. Eyeing my prize, I shoved her panties into my suit pocket.

  “Spread your legs.”

  “What?” she gasped.

  “I want to eat your pussy. Now let me.”

  She took two tiny steps out, still hiding what I wanted. With a deep chuckle, I worked my palm back up her leg and gripped her firm ass, holding her steady as I knocked one foot wider. She stumbled in shock, and I slid my hand past her soft cheeks to press her back flat, forcing her to shove her ass in my face.

  Finally, the pink wet folds appeared, and every second of drawn out torture had been worth it because she was stunning. My dick throbbed, and I gave a quick squeeze to remind myself I’d be buried there soon.

  My hands swallowed her round cheeks, the smooth skin pale under my tan fingers. She thrust back, and I couldn’t wait anymore. Using my thumbs, I pulled her apart like the petals of a flower, and without any teasing or warm-up, I swiped my tongue from her clit to her opening, shoving inside.

  She cried out and squeezed, her hips pushing forward. She would have pulled away if I hadn’t gripped her so tight. With my tongue buried in her wet pussy, I reached around her hips and found the top of her slit, fingering her bundle of nerves.

  “So fucking good,” I murmured against her skin between fucking her with my tongue.

  She pressed down on my hand and rocked back against my mouth, searching each time I pulled away.

  I lapped at every inch I could reach, sucking on her folds, licking her wet cum from where it dripped down her thighs.

  She panted harder. Her legs shook, and she rocked back, riding my face. It had to be one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen.

  Needing to feel the wet heat against my cock, I flicked her clit hard and shoved my tongue as deep as I could. Her hand slammed against her mouth, and her entire body vibrated with each tight squeeze of her pussy pulsing around me. Before she was even done, I worked the buckle of my pants open, desperate to free my cock. The cool breeze did nothing to calm the hot blood pulsing down my length. For once, I was grateful for the extra layer of the condom to help me last inside her. I didn’t know who this woman was, but I knew I’d think of her long after the night ended.

  She’d be my moment with Verana, and I’d hold it close. I knew it was wrong to be with a woman and imagine someone else, but this whole situation wasn’t about respect and caring. It was about fucking a stranger. The illicit excitement of finding someone random and losing yourself inside them with no expectations. It could be anyone, and tonight, I wanted it to be Verana.

  With one last swipe of my tongue, I stood tall, teasing between her legs, rubbing the head of my cock up and down her drenched slit.

  “Please,” she begged. “Do it.”

  I intended to ease in. I knew she was wet enough, but she was swollen from her orgasm, and I was big. But with her breathy plea, I couldn’t hold off. The need drummed inside me like a crazed beat. It was all I could hear—all I could focus on.

  One hand gripped her hip and the other her shoulder, I lined myself up and shoved in hard. Her hand slapped back over her mouth just in time to cover her cry.

  “Fuck. Shit. Shit,” she panted.

  Shit. Had I hurt her? I knew the risk, but fuck, I hadn’t expected her to be so tight. Her heat clenched like a fist, and when I moved to ease the pressure, she squeezed me like a vice trying to suck me back in.

  “I’m sorry. I should have given you more time.”

  Her hand shot back and gripped my hip, holding me in place. “No. Please. You’re just—” she sucked in a breath. “So freaking big. But god, it feels so good. I’ll die if you stop.”

  My ego grew. I knew I had a big dick, but having her stretched out, panting over it stretching her so wide it hurt, but still wanting me to fuck her made me want to beat my chest and rut against her like an animal.

  I pulled out slowly until only the tip rested inside and thrust back in, my balls slapping against her. She bit the palm of her hand and pushed back every time I thrust in. Small whimpers escaped but were lost to the night before anyone could hear.

  Moving my hand to her neck, I jerked her upright and moved us against the railing, the rough cement digging into her hips. Her head fell back against my shoulder, giving me the perfect view of her ruby lips parted, sucking in air.

  “Better be quiet, vixen. Wouldn’t want everyone below to know how much you like having your tight pussy fucked by a stranger.”

  Her jaw clenched tight like that could stop the cries of pleasure she couldn’t hold back. Her hand slipped behind us and squeezed my ass, urging me faster.

  “You can try to hold back your moans, but nothing can hide the sound of how wet your tight little cunt is.”

  The wet suction of my length, forcing its way inside her body, echoed around us. I knew no one could hear, but it sank into my blood and heated it further.

  “Let them hear.”

  With those three words, the thin thread on my control snapped. This woman truly was a vixen. I imagined it was Verana, and we were in my office with her pinned against my desk to do what I wanted. I imagined I had control to take my frustration out on her.

  I held her like I was trying to meld her to me and pistoned my hips harder and faster. Her nails dug through the material of my suit and stung my flesh, sending lightning bolts of pleasure to my balls.

  Her breasts swayed, and I gave in to the need to see them, almost tearing the material in my desperation. Immediately, my hand shot up to cup the heavy weight, pinching the deep pink tip between my thumb and finger. Her other hand held my wrist as if I’d pull away. If possible, she got wetter with each tug and twist. I knew her cum would be on my pants by the end of this, and I may never wash them again, so I could remember the tight squeeze of her body.

  “Please. Yes.” She whimpered incoherent words of pleasure and begging. When I dipped my hand between her thighs to strum her clit, she dug her teeth into her bottom lip and pressed her palm over it, falling over the edge into her orgasm. Despite her efforts, her cries slipped free, barely masked by the soft music and conversation below.

  Her fluttery pulses demanded I orgasm with her, and I was useless to hold back any longer. Not willing to remove my hands from any delicious part of her, I buried my teeth at the base of her neck and groaned as pulse after pulse of cum shot from my body. Coming inside her felt like touching an electrical wire, and my body vibrated and tingled as I slowly came down from the high.

  Gently, I brushed my fingers against her clit one last time and around her flushed nipple, loving the shudder that wracked her body. Pulling back, I licked and kissed the bite mark I left in my crazed orgasm. She rested bot
h hands on the railing, her head lolling to the side while she gasped for air. Hating every second, I tugged the material back over her breast, doing my best to rearrange the neck to cover the bite mark. Part of me wanted to demand she leave it uncovered, so when we went back down to make small talk and drink champagne, everyone could see my mark.

  We both groaned when I pulled my softening dick free despite her core squeezing like she wanted to keep me there forever. Before releasing her, I issued one last command. “Wait for me to leave before you turn around. Then wait a few minutes to walk out.”

  She merely nodded, and I struggled to pull back and tuck myself away. She stayed slouched over, leaning against the railing as I fastened up my pants. Her soft skin called to me, begging me to touch it one last time before I left. She may not have actually been Verana, but she had me on edge, barely holding back just like Vera did.

  Stepping close, I leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss between her shoulders. “Thank you.”

  And before I could talk myself out of it, I walked away, refusing to look back.

  My plan hadn’t worked. I hadn’t fucked Verana out of my system. I hadn’t fucked Verana at all. If anything, I’d only made myself want her more.

  Maybe I needed another round. Maybe I did need to see the woman’s face. Lose myself in the stranger. Maybe that was the answer to blotting Verana out. Something about her was off, and I hated that my gut screamed that she was using me while also screaming for me to take her.

  I didn’t like liars, and the instinct that Verana was lying had me holding back.

  With that reminder, I decided to grab a drink and approach my vixen again before the night was over. Surely, I could find a way to convince her to come home with me and help me lose myself.