by Rhonda James
No matter how badly I want to escape my problems.
School starts back up in less than a week. I have so many things to do between now and then I don’t have time to think about this.
Deciding I need a shower, I push myself up off the floor and pull a tank top and clean underwear from my suitcase. I pull my hair up in a messy bun and moan happily when the hot water beats down on my tense muscles. I allow myself fifteen minutes before I finally shut off the water. As I towel off, I begin to fantasize about Derek. I think of how we could be if things were different and I didn’t have to head back to Ann Arbor and he didn’t have to go back to… back to… Oh, hell, I don’t even know where he’s from; and it doesn’t even matter, because nothing could ever work between us.
It’s not because I’m not attracted to him. Because I definitely am. In fact, I couldn’t be more attracted to him if I tried. He truly made it impossible for me not to like him. And that scares me as well. I have a hard time trusting people. Noah left me once he learned of my secret shame. For a long time, I was devastated. I don’t know if I’m ready to chance that kind of pain again. It’s almost easier to pretend what I’m hiding doesn’t exist. But sooner or later, the truth always comes out, and I’ve learned the hard way that doesn’t always end well.
I brush my teeth, grab my phone off the bedside table, and crawl into bed, though I’m not sleepy. His text messages taunt me, and I find myself smiling as I read over the words once again. I find it interesting how his words compel me the way they do. In my line of work, I meet men all the time, some I know from school, others are merely older customers who frequent the club regularly. It’s not uncommon for the older men to approach me after a performance. They are usually very polite, but they don’t get very far before I shut them down. I’m not interested in hooking up with an older man. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; it’s just that most of the men who frequent our club don’t have the decency to remove their wedding bands before approaching the dancers.
Then you have the college regulars. For the most part, these guys are just looking to have a fun night out with their friends. They come out. They drink. They flirt. Stuff a few bills in our G-strings. Granted, after spending two hours watching nearly naked women rubbing themselves all over a pole, they’re generally horny as hell. But, for the most part, they are easy to deal with. If you’re lucky, you won’t recognize any of them on Monday morning when you get back to class. I’ve had that happen a few times, though. On Saturday night, I’ll be giving a guy a lap dance, then Monday morning, I’ll run into him on campus. Thankfully, the guy has usually had so many drinks in him he can’t remember the stripper’s face.
But I remember everything.
It's not that I hate being a stripper. I mean, the people I work with are nice, and the owner of the club treats his dancers with a great deal of respect. We have a no-touch policy, which can get a little tricky when we’re giving a lap dance, but, for the most part, Gavin, the owner, keeps a watchful eye over his dancers. The money is also really nice, and right now, I need a lot of it. So, until I reach my goal, I'll keep stripping and put away as much money as I can.
Against my better judgment, I open up my photos to find the one of Derek staring right back at me. Tracing the line of his jaw with my finger, I remember how nice it felt when his stubble brushed against my cheek. Seeing his face, remembering the way he held me in his arms and the last word he mouthed before I closed the door, I can't help thinking what a fool I've been for letting him go.
Twice.
I may never see him again, and now the thought of this makes me very sad, but it's also been the story of my life. I seem to have a fondness for learning things the hard way. What I do next surprises even myself.
I actually kiss his picture.
Yep. I pucker up and leave a perfect imprint of my lips right on the screen. Then I toss the phone beside me on the bed, pull the covers over my head, and let out a frustrated scream.
God, I’m such an idiot.
The knock at the door startles me. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s after midnight. I figure the reception has probably begun to wind down and Amy simply forgot her room key. A second knock comes almost immediately, and I grumble loudly.
“Okay, already! Jeezus, Amy, you act like you have to pee or something wor—” My words fade away when I open the door a crack and find Derek standing there. “Hey. What are you doing back here?” I suppress the smile building in my cheeks and lean against the door. Honestly, the thought he came back for one more kiss leaves me feeling so giddy, I think right now the door is the only thing holding me up.
“It’s 12:05,” he states matter-of-factly.
I furrow my brow in mild confusion. “I’m aware of what time it is.”
“And…”—he takes a step toward me and my heart flutters—“that means it’s already tomorrow.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Huh. I guess it does, doesn’t it?” I shift my feet and grip the door a little tighter, praying to God he can’t hear the pounding of my heart.
“Guess what?” He reaches through the crack to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The simple act makes my skin break out in goose bumps. “I still want you.”
CHAPTER NINE
LANEY
My stomach flip-flops when he steps even closer to pry my fingers away from the door. Taking one look at my attire, he stops in his tracks with his eyes blazing, and practically growls his next words.
“Holy fuck. What are you wearing?”
My eyes drop down, taking in the lightweight tank top I often sleep in. It’s black with a large image of Iron Man on the front. The only other item I’m wearing is a pair of black lacy panties. I open my mouth to respond, but he swallows my words when his mouth crushes mine.
Without breaking our kiss, he lifts me by the ass and wraps my legs around his waist. My hands immediately find their way to his hair as I moan my appreciation against his mouth.
“I take it you like what I’m wearing?” I hum as his lips work their magic across my neck.
He pauses and lifts his face to mine. “Are you kidding me?” His finger toys with the edge of my panties, and I squirm at the thought of having his hand so close to that certain area of my body he already knows so well. “You are undeniably sexy, no matter what you have on, but I have to admit, I’m loving this look. And you can’t deny that when it comes to superheroes, Iron Man is pretty badass.”
“You know, I sorta have a thing for superheroes.”
“Is that right?” He chuckles against my lips.
“Yep. And Iron Man is my all-time fave.”
“Why is that?” He pulls back to study my face, then cracks a smile before finishing his question. “You have a thing for rich geniuses?”
“Hell, no.” I counter then second-guess my quick response. “Well, I take that back. I guess I can tolerate the genius part. But I try to steer clear from rich guys.”
I immediately feel him tense beneath me. “Why is that?”
“Most of the rich guys I’ve met are assholes looking to change you.”
“Well, maybe you just haven’t met the right kind of rich guy. They can’t all be bad.”
“I guess that remains to be seen. Either way, I think I’ll stick with nice, middle-class guys who accept me for who I am.” After declaring this, I’m aware the mood in the room has noticeably shifted.
He lowers his voice and tightens the grip on my ass. “Do you feel like talking about this?”
“Not really.”
“Thank god,” he murmurs against my lips as he kicks the door shut with his foot and backs us further into the room. My back meets the mattress, and a smile of appreciation fills his face when our eyes meet. “There are so many things I want to do to you right now. I hope you weren’t expecting to get any sleep tonight.”
His entire length presses against me, reminding me of what he came here for. I’ve decided I won’t push him away this time. Being
in his arms feels too good, and I want him too badly to delay the inevitable any longer. My hips instinctively respond, as if they know what’s about to happen, and I can’t hide the contented sigh that falls from my lips when he slowly lowers his body to mine.
I’ve missed this feeling. The feeling you get right before you give yourself to someone.
The moments before clothes are removed. When you’re excited to discover what lies beneath all the layers, and the realization that mere threads of fabric have been the only barrier standing between you and the other person.
Once that registers, it’s as if a switch has been turned on inside me and I have this sudden desire to rip away every strip of clothing. Every wall I’ve put up in a foolish attempt to try and protect myself.
Foolish, because right now, the only one I need protection from is myself.
Suddenly, I’ve become a blur of lips and hands. I can’t kiss him enough. Can’t wait for my fingers to feel the warmth of his skin beneath them. I need him. All of him. And I am desperate. Desperate to feel him. Desperate to taste him. Desperate to know how perfectly he fills my aching body.
What’s worse, we haven’t even had sex, and I’m already desperate for him to ravage me again.
“Whoa. Slow down, sweetheart.” His hands find mine, and he stretches our arms out on the bed, lacing our fingers together as he lowers his mouth to my nose. The gentle kiss he places there contradicts the aggressive approach he took earlier in the evening. “What’s your rush? We have all night.”
I give my shoulder a half-hearted shrug. “I guess I figured I’ve kept you waiting long enough.”
“So, you’re only doing this because you think that’s what I expect?” He rolls over and lies flat on his back, staring at the ceiling as he mumbles quietly to himself.
“I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and blows out a frustrated sigh when he sits up.
“No,” he says after a few beats. “I think I’ve made it abundantly clear I want you, but I don’t want this to happen between us unless we’re both fully on board. I know I came on strong earlier and just a few minutes ago, but if your sudden change of heart is based solely on the assumption I won’t be interested unless there’s sex involved, then I’ve completely failed you.”
I crawl behind him on my hands and knees, wrapping my arms and legs around him before I say what I need to say. “You haven’t failed me. Not in the least. Derek, you don’t owe me anything. We barely know each other. We’ve both said and done some things tonight, and I think we’ve made it perfectly clear where we expected this night to go. You haven’t misled me, or misrepresented yourself in any way. I’m sorry I’ve been so wishy-washy. I guess I let my fears get the best of me and then doubt started creeping in. But please believe me when I tell you, I want you just as much as you want me. It just took me a little longer to admit it.”
I place a single kiss on the back of his neck and feel his body relax in my hold. Soon, one kiss turns into a series of soft, pecks that follow his hairline and end with his earlobe between my teeth. I give it a gentle nibble, then a flick with my tongue.
“I want to feel your hands and your mouth all over my body. I want you to show me everything I’ve been missing. And in the morning, I want you to remind me why it is I’m not supposed to hate myself for all of it.”
Our eyes lock, and he raises a hand to my cheek. For a moment neither of us says anything, yet so much is spoken in the silence. His thumb makes a sweeping pass over my cheek before he lowers his mouth to mine. “I can do that.”
In one swift motion, I’m pushed back on the bed and his mouth begins working its way down my body. When his tongue swipes across my nipple, my first response is to moan loudly. The second thing I do is grip his head with both hands and hold him firmly in place. There’s a layer of cotton between us, but I still feel everything.
“I’ve waited all night to wrap my lips around these.” He palms my left breast with one hand while teasing the other with the heat of his mouth. “I’m dying to get a look at this jewelry.” He catches the barbell between his teeth and gives it a gentle tug. “Does this hurt?”
“Nooooo,” I moan again, unable to control myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone take time to appreciate me. I get the feeling Derek plans on showing me a lot of appreciation tonight. It isn’t until his hand reaches inside my shirt that I come to my senses and stop him. “Wait!”
“You have got to be kidding me!” He heaves a huge sigh and mumbles against my chest. “I don’t think I can’t take much more.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. That’s not what I mean. It’s just that I’m sharing this room with my cousin and she’s probably on her way up here right now. I’d hate to start something and have her walk in on us. Maybe we can take this back up to your room?”
Without hesitation, he scoops me up, and I lock my arms and legs around him. He’s halfway to the door before I start calling out items I’ll need for later.
“Purse! Room key! Phone!” I point in the direction of each item as I call it out. Never once does he set me down, I think maybe he’s afraid if he let’s me go, he’ll miss this opportunity completely. Funny thing is, in this moment, I have this niggling in the back of my brain telling me I want to remain in his arms this way forever. Well, at least for the next eight to fourteen hours. Give or take a few.
He goes to hand me my phone but pulls it back just as quickly and holds it at an angle under the light.
“Wait a minute. What’s this?” His eyes dart between the phone and me. I drop my head straight to his shoulder, knowing exactly what it is he’s questioning. “Did you kiss your phone?”
“Give me that!” I reach for it, but he’s too quick and raises his arm high over his head just out of my reach.
“Just tell me whom you were kissing, and it’s yours,” he teases.
“It’s already mine, so give it back,” I huff.
He lowers his arm while still keeping it out of reach. With one hand holding me back, he uses the other to press the home key to fire up my screen. With a swipe of his thumb, the last image comes to life and he’s soon staring into his own eyes. He looks at my mouth then back to the screen. The imprint of my lips completely covers his face. Better yet, his whole head.
“Looks like someone missed me after they so heartlessly shoved me out of their room.” He starts to hand me my phone but still keeps a tight hold on it when I try and tug it away. “Just admit you regret sending me away with a raging case of blue balls, and I’ll give it back.”
His smug smile should irritate me, but it doesn’t. It only makes me desire him more.
I answer by cupping his face in my hands and giving him a heated kiss. “I never should have sent you away. By doing so I’ve most assuredly deprived us of multiple orgasms. Now, you may punish me by taking me upstairs and pounding some sense into me.” I drop one hand between us and rub it over the bulge in his pants. “Oh, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a slow learner, so I’ll probably require more than one punishment.”
The echo of my squeals can be heard throughout the entire hallway, maybe even the entire hotel, but neither of us cares. It doesn’t dawn on me that I’m wearing only a tank top and skimpy undies. Not while he’s parading me through the hotel. Not even when his hand is under my shirt on the short elevator ride upstairs. It’s not until we’re lying on his bed, when his mouth finally connects with my naked breast, that we both let out a contented sigh.
“I’ve been fantasizing about these all night long, but my imagination didn’t nearly do them justice.” The tip of his tongue leisurely circles my nipple before he sucks it into his warm, wet mouth and I’m lavished with long, slow strokes that feel so good my eyes roll back in my head and I squeeze his shoulders for support. Once the left one has been thoroughly cared for, he moves to the right and repeats the splendiferous torture. I swear to god, if he keeps this up, I fear my eyes may roll to
the back of my head and remain that way. “Goddamn, your tits are fucking perfect. So perfect they should be on display.”
The next thing I know, I’m being carried over to the window and, once there, he sets my feet back on the floor. Our mouths connect for a sloppy, wet kiss that lasts only long enough to make me miss him after he pulls away. I don’t question his intentions until I’m spun around and come face-to-face with the window. My naked breasts are on full display, pressing against the cool glass as my arms are lifted above my head and his hand clasps around my wrists to lock them in place.
For the briefest of moments, I panic, fearful someone will look up and see me. But then his arm circles my waist and I’m eased back until his erection presses against the crack of my ass.
“Your ass is perfect. Have I already told you that?” A roll of his hips further demonstrates how much he appreciates this particular part of my anatomy. I only nod when I feel his lips on my shoulder, the tip of his tongue slipping out to sweep over my flesh as he kisses his way down my spine. I realize my hands are no longer being held, but I don’t move for fear he’ll stop this tantalizing seduction. With my chest and face pressed against the glass, I can’t see him, but I feel every kiss, every stroke of his tongue savoring the salty taste of my heated flesh. My pulse races, and I close my eyes, feeling thankful we’re on the sixty-fifth floor.
His hands circle my ankles and slowly tease their way along the outer edge of each leg before they settle on my hips. Next, he hooks a finger through either side of my panties and slowly begins shimmying them down my legs until they’re lying on the floor.
“Spread your legs a little.” His voice is deep and needy, and it’s clear this isn’t a request. At this point, he’s a man on a mission, and nervous excitement courses through me when I realize his intentions. With my legs spread apart, he backs himself through the opening, stopping only when his mouth is level with my sex.