by Rhonda James
Fuck.
“Is this what you want?” I continue circling until a shiver radiating through her body answers my question, but I still long to hear her say the words.
I need to hear them.
She nods, her breaths coming in broken pants as I take her closer to the edge with a mere touch of my fingers.
“Tell me,” I command, and her eyes grow wide. “Tell me exactly how this feels.” I damn near growl the words this time, and she shivers once more. When I give the barbell a flick, her lips part on a sleepy smile.
“It feels so…” she begins, speaking so softly I have to strain to hear her.
I stop what I’m doing and extract my hand from her panties to cup her delicate chin.
“Sweetheart, you’ll need to speak up. If it feels good, tell me. If it doesn’t, I want to know. Don’t be afraid to tell me what you need. Okay? I only want to make you feel good.” She goes to nod again, and I tighten my grip. “Ah, ah, ah. Use your words.”
“Amazing. It feels amazing. D-don’t stop. Please.”
My hand returns to her panties, seeking the heated flesh between her legs, giving her what she wants, and her eyes rolls back when my fingers part her. She’s already slick with desire as I slide two fingers inside, rolling the hardened nub beneath my thumb while she squirms in my arms and low moans fall past her cherry red lips.
Lips that would look hot as fuck wrapped around my cock. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll see that happen before this night is over.
God, I hope she’s into that.
My fingers plunge deep, moving in slow, deliberate strokes. Giving her a taste of what I want to do with my cock.
That is, if she’ll let me go that far.
Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.
Her body goes slack, and she begins mumbling, stringing broken words together as the orgasm takes over and her pussy coats my hand with her milky release.
I’m unable to tear my eyes away from her mouth. Those plump lips practically beg me to claim them. Unable to resist, I lean forward, needing a small taste.
“I’d like to kiss you. Is that okay?”
I find it ironic I’m asking for permission to kiss her while my fingers are still inside her. I’ve just violated her with my hand, yet I choose this moment to be a gentleman?
I know. Call me crazy. Or call me an asshole.
Maybe it’s because I’m a senior in college, but shit like this takes place in bar bathrooms on a regular basis for some guys. You go to the bar, have a few drinks, spot some random girl, down a few more drinks, and the next thing you know you’re up against the bathroom wall with your hand down her pants. One of you, or both if you’re lucky, will get off, and then you’ll go your separate ways. Sometimes, you might even remember the entire thing when you wake up the next day.
But kissing? Kissing doesn’t usually come into play on nights like that.
Call me old fashioned, but kissing somehow feels more intimate, and I’m not looking for intimacy during a hook-up.
Right now, there’s something about this girl that just feels different.
I actually want to kiss her.
Correction. I need to.
Our lips are millimeters apart, her breath hot on my skin.
So close. Yet still so far.
“I’d like for you to kiss me,” she answers breathlessly.
Our mouths come together for a soft kiss. No tongue. No lingering nibbles. Flesh on flesh, burning me with their heat, poisoning me with their sweet-as-sin taste that I already want more of.
And then it’s over.
The kiss is quick, yet still somehow I know the lingering effects will last a lifetime. I gaze into her eyes. Eyes that are dark pools of mystery.
A mystery I’d love to solve.
A phone rings, and the sound startles her, making her shrink against the window.
Trying to ignore it, I lean forward and cup her face in my hands. The offensive sound stops after five rings.
Thank you, God.
I need another kiss. A real kiss this time. The first one was just a taste. A tease if you will. And it worked, because it left me craving more. This time when our lips meet, my tongue brushes tentatively over her bottom lip. When she sighs, her lips part, granting my tongue access to slip inside and mingle with hers. She tastes of tequila and watermelon. A strange combination, but somehow it works together, because I instantly want more.
The ringing returns, and I murmur a string of curse words against her lips before pulling the damn thing out of my pocket with every intention of throwing it against the wall.
She must read my mind, because her eyes drop to catch the name ‘Mom’ as it flashes across my screen.
She pulls back, pressing the palm of her hand flat against my chest to give me a gentle shove. Trust me, it’s the only way she’s going to put any distance between us.
“Maybe you better answer that,” she says uneasily.
“I’ll call her later.” I wave my hand dismissively as if brushing the suggestion off. “Maybe tomorrow.” I throw in for good measure.
The room goes silent, and I blow out a relieved sigh, praying Mom will give up and leave a message. My arms circle her waist, pulling her hips flush with mine till my erection presses against her belly.
I want this girl. I know it. And I’m sure she knows it.
If she didn’t before, she surely must know now.
The last thing I want to do is have a chat with my mom. Talk about a mood killer.
This time when the phone goes off I answer on the first ring, turning my back on my guest as I bark my greeting into the phone.
“What?”
“That is not how you answer a telephone, young man,” Mom snaps. “I may not have been the best at everything, but I know I taught you better manners than that, Derek Davis.”
“Cecilia, try to calm down. Derek, apologize for biting your mother’s head off,” Dad orders dryly.
Great, not only are my parents calling, but they’ve got me on speakerphone, which can only mean one thing. They want to know how the interview went.
“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m right in the middle—“
“Nonsense,” she cuts me off. “Whatever it is, put a pin in it for a moment and tell us about the interview.”
I roll my eyes, knowing full well she can’t see me. I know for a fact Mitch has already called them to confirm he offered me the job. I’d bet good money they were burning up the phone lines long before I stepped outside of Mitch’s building.
For fuck’s sake, now they’re popping a bottle of champagne. Of course they’ve already heard.
It’s not like they’re trying to be nosey assholes. It’s just that none of them can help themselves where their kids are concerned.
I may not be Mitch Harrison’s biological son, but he’s treated me as one from the moment I was born. And my parents have been the same way with Mitch’s daughter, Samantha. We grew up spending every summer together on Lake Michigan. Over the years, Samantha has grown from a lanky tomboy into a beautiful young woman. I’ve seen her in almost every awkward situation you can think of and never gave her a second thought, until one night a bunch of us had been drinking and decided to go skinny dipping. It could’ve been the way the moonlight danced across her tanned skin. Or all the alcohol I consumed that night. Or it could have merely been my raging teenage hormones spinning out of control when I finally got a look at her as she stepped out of the water and bent over to grab a towel. Either way, that innocent move gave me a perfect glimpse of her naked body, and I came out of the water faster than you can blink an eye. We shared one heated kiss before we both decided it would be too weird for us to hook up.
Looking back, I’m glad we came to our senses before we made the mistake of having sex.
Speaking of sex…
Mom and Dad continue pouring champagne and talking as if I’m right there in the room with them.
“Guys? I’m gonna have to call you back. I have some
important business I’m right in the middle of.”
“What could be more important than celebrating your first big job?” Mom gushes.
“Cecilia! I thought we weren’t going to let on like we already knew?” Dad admonishes.
“I’m sorry, darling. I just couldn’t help myself. I’m so proud of you!”
For the love of all that is holy, please, stop talking.
Politeness isn’t working, so I decide to blurt out the truth. “Guys. This really isn’t a good time. I’ve got a really hot girl in my room and, if it’s all the same to you, I would rather stop talking to you and use my mouth on her.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Wow. Twenty-two years and this is the first time I’ve ever—” Mom cuts herself off with a snort. “With all the action you boys see, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner.” I lower my chin and beat the heel of my hand against my forehead.
“Son, if you have a young woman there with you, why did you bother answering the damn phone?” Dad asks incredulously.
“Trust me. I’m asking myself the same question right now,” I answer with a groan.
“Sweetie, go back to whatever it is you were doing and forget we ever called.”
If only it were that easy. I disconnect the call and take a few cleansing breaths.
“Sorry about that.” I turn back to the window and find she’s no longer there.
“Where’d you run off to—” I pause, realizing I don’t even know her name. I make my way to the bedroom, hoping to find her naked and waiting on my bed, but that room also turns up empty.
Bathroom? I knock on the partially closed door, but when it swings open, the room is just as empty as the rest of the suite. I sink down onto the sofa and rest my clasped hands against my forehead.
WTF?
One minute I’m getting her off, the next she bolts out the door the second my back is turned, walking out of my life just as quickly as she blew into it.
I’ve never experienced a woman like her. Certainly no other woman has snuck out on me before having actual sex. By the way she was milking my fingers, I’d say she was pretty into what we were doing. I thought for sure I’d get to run my tongue over all of her piercings.
Guess that dream is shot all to hell.
Thanks a lot, Mom and Dad.
I reach forward and bring the bottle to my lips. Alcohol trickles down my chin, and while wiping it away, I smell her. It’s only fitting. The same fingers I just used to wipe my mouth were buried inside her no less than fifteen minutes ago.
Call me twisted, but I hold them to my nose, closing my eyes as I take a deep breath to savor her sweet fragrance.
When my eyes finally open, they settle on the sofa across from me. An object tucked between two cushions is what captures my attention. Reluctantly pushing myself up, I cross over and retrieve the item.
A cell phone.
Her. Cell. Phone.
Just as I reach for it, the screen comes to life with a text.
Laney? Where’d u run off to?
Well, look at that. I have a name.
Laney.
I say it out loud a few times, letting the L roll off my tongue.
I like it. It suits her.
So, I have a name, but that’s all I have. I tap my finger on the screen and the phone springs to life. Hmmm. No password. That’s convenient. My eyes scan over the home screen, finger hovering momentarily over the photos app.
No, that would be too intrusive.
I chew my thumbnail, pondering my options before I open her contacts. I don’t have to go digging. What I’m looking for is right at the top of the list.
Laney
404-323-7079
I read it a couple of times, typing it into my contacts before pocketing both phones. I down another finger of tequila before I reach for my suit coat and slip it over my shoulders. I run a quick hand through my hair and swipe the key card off the entry table on my way out the door.
I have a wedding reception to crash.
CHAPTER SIX
LANEY
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. I was beginning to think I’d have to send out a search party.” Aunt Kelly links an arm with mine while simultaneously holding her empty glass out for the bartender. “Make me another vodka martini, please. And while you’re at it, throw in an extra blue cheese olive. They were scrumptious.”
“I warned you they were addictive, but you didn’t believe me.” The cute bartender flashes her a sexy smile before turning to mix her drink.
“I promise to never doubt you again,” she shamelessly flirts back, while I watch the interaction with mild amusement.
Kelly was my mom’s baby sister, and though there was a nine-year age difference between them, they were always very close. When Mom died, Aunt Kelly and Uncle Mark took me into their home and cared for me, while Dad healed and I did my best to cope.
She and Mark have been happily married for twelve years, and during that time I haven’t seen her so much as look at another man. Flirting tells me she may have had one too many martinis.
“Exactly how many of those have you had anyway?” I give her a kiss on the cheek before ordering a beer with a tequila chaser.
“More than necessary, but Kevin here is so damn sexy I keep finding myself ordering one more. It’s like I’m drawn to him. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”
Sweetie? Oh boy.
I catch the wink the bartender shoots her when he hands over our drinks and the contented sigh she releases springs me into action.
“O-kay. I think it’s time for an intervention.” I grab our drinks, do a quick scan of the room to make sure Noah isn’t nearby, and usher her to a table in the corner of the room.
“What was that for?” she asks after I force her to sit in one of the available chairs.
I shake my head and smile. “It was never going to happen for you two. I figured someone should step in and put an end to it before things got messy.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she feigns innocence.
“Oh, please, Kel.” I raise the bottle to my lips and speak around it. “You were slobbering all over him.”
“So? There’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting.”
“True,” I agree. “But you’re a married woman. And that guy is probably ten years younger than you.”
“Laney, sweetheart, it’s never polite to remind a woman of her age. Besides, I can assure you my love for Mark will never change. I gave that man my heart ten years ago and I’m not asking for it back.” She pops an olive in her mouth, and a dreamy expression fills her face as she bites down.
“Twelve,” I correct her.
“Twelve what?”
“You’ve been married twelve years.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No, you said—“ I start to say, but cut myself off and raise my bottle in a toast to my cousin, Sarah, and her new husband. “To the happy couple. To us. And to sexy men who make it impossible for us to make good decisions.”
“To hell with that.” She raises her martini glass a little higher. “To hot as fuck men who make me wish I were ten years younger.”
“Wow, Aunt Kel. I had no idea you were such a cougar.” I wrinkle my nose in mock disgust and take a long pull on my beer.
“That’s because I rarely let her out of her cage to prowl. But tonight is a special occasion. Right, baby?” Mark comes up behind her, growling as he bends to give his wife a heated kiss. When her arms circle his neck and the kiss goes on, I have to clear my throat to remind them I’m still present.
“I swear you’re worse than a couple of teenagers. Get a room.” I feign disgust.
“I already booked one two months ago.” Mark winks before pulling up a chair to join us. “My mom has the kids overnight and she’s probably spoiling them rotten. Trust me, she’s in her element. I wasn’t about to waste a night of kid-free sex.”
Mark may be thirty-four and my unc
le, but I giggle like a schoolgirl whenever he acts this way. He’s just so damn good-looking.
“So, Laney, where’d you run off to?” Kelly smiles.
I swear this woman is like a bloodhound. I’m willing to bet she took one look at my flushed face and knew immediately what I have been up to. It’s either that or something else. Maybe I just look guilty. Or worse. Do I stink of sex? Oh god. That’s it! I bet I reek of sex and everyone within a twenty-foot radius can smell me. Shit. Maybe I better head straight up to my room. My cousin, Amy, is rooming with me, and she’s in the bridal party and won’t be returning to the room until late, which gives me plenty of time to return to normal.
I look over at Kelly, who sits patiently, picking at the confetti table decorations while waiting for me to respond.
I’m still trying to make sense of what took place upstairs, so I decide I best keep my responses vague. “No place special. I ran into Noah and just really needed to get away for a bit.”
“Aha.” She gives me a smile that tells me she understands. “For the record, I haven’t seen him around. I think he took off right after you disappeared. Anyhow, it seems as if getting away did you some good. You were gone a long time.”
“Well…” My face heats with embarrassment. “I met someone in the elevator and we started talking.”
“Must have been some pretty stimulating conversation to spend that kind of time with a stranger,” she continues, her lip quirking up to the left as her gaze darts between Mark and me.
“Turns out we were very compatible.” I shrug.
“Why didn’t you invite him to the party?” Mark joins the inquisition.
“What is this? Have you two decided to join forces and give me shit about my relationship status?” Or lack thereof? my subconscious adds. My grip tightens around the bottle, and I nervously begin picking at the label.