by Pamela Ann
“Come here,” Cori growled into my ear before planting both of his hands on my hips, synchronizing with my rhythm on the dance floor. “I want you,” he uttered, swiftly spinning me around so we were face to face. His eyes penetrated mine before they dropped to my lips then lowered to my chest.
“Do you like what you see?” I raised my brow, emboldened by the dimmed lightning and the alcohol in my system.
“Fuck. Yeah. Baby.” He smirked. “Hell fucking yeah.”
This was pure flirtation—the game—not much else. Sexual tension kept building up, and I was almost drunk with it.
Seeing I was getting lost in euphoria, he encouraged it by grinding his hard length against my stomach. When I felt it, I gasped from shock and excitement. That thing surely wouldn’t disappoint. But before I could make a move, someone tapped my shoulder.
Frowning, I cocked my head to the side to find a smiling Chuey.
“Sorry, but I have to borrow her. We’ll be back really quick.” He pulled me away without giving Cori a chance to protest.
A little annoyed at his interruption, I glared at him, my scowl apparent. “What’s the problem? You said juice. Isn’t he juicy enough?”
He gave a nervous laugh before looking like he’d just eaten a Sour Patch candy. “Eh, well, you know, boyfriend es right behind you.” That nervous laugh again. “He asked me to come get you. Forgive me.”
“What boyfriend?” I shrilled before checking out the person behind me who sat facing the bar. Sure enough, the bastard was there, casually sipping his beer.
Manolo was right in front of us, seeming speechless, as well. Both men seemed to have lost their tongues.
Without preamble, I marched toward him and almost screamed into his face, “You have no fucking business being here! Stop stalking me.”
“Outside,” he gritted out without looking at me before he finished his drink, slamming the glass down on the counter. “Now!”
I almost jumped at his angered tone. What was he furious for? I had done everything he asked with that stupid app idea. I was the one with grounds to be pissed off.
Warily, I watched him get up from his seat then stride past me and toward the exit without checking to see if I was following him. I was, which made me feel weak, but his tone had petrified me, enslaving me.
Upon reaching the balmy air of the city, I held my breath, anticipating him bombarding me with his anger. Instead, I got complete silence while he walked on.
No. This wasn’t happening again. No!
I fumed, halting my steps. “Will you stop? Where are you going? If you want to talk, let’s talk. Fuck, let’s have at it. You’re angry, so fucking what?” I yelled at him, fed up with the stupid games.
He did eventually halt his pace, but he didn’t face me. Instead, he nonchalantly took something out of his pocket, pulling out a cigarette before disinterestedly lighting it, as if he found this tedious, nothing but fucking background noise.
I snapped.
Rushing toward him, I franticly snatched the cigarette from his lips, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you’re my God? That I’ll do your bidding whenever you feel like it? I’m done! I’m going back inside and forgetting you’ve ever existed. This shit is over!”
“Take one more fucking step and you’ll know what hell really feels like.” His eyes were foreign to me, clouded, as if a squall was coming, and it was coming fast. “Go, Chloe.”
As terrified as I was, I knew he was testing me, playing his mind games.
Sickened by this game, I made up my mind. He should know better. I had meant it. I was done. So done.
“Good-bye,” I choked out.
Turning away from him, I was beginning to retrace my steps when I was suddenly up in the air and being carried over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” My legs were gripped so tightly I couldn’t use them to kick him. “Put me the fuck down!”
A second before I was about to scream the fucking streets down, he finally lowered me down in a darkened alley, trapping me against a brick wall, towering over me like he was about to punish me for disobedience.
Suffused with rage, my hand connected with his cheek, slapping him with all my might. “Let. Me. Go!”
Unaffected by my upheaval, he snarled at me, “No!” He roughly pushed me against the wall before crashing his mouth against my lips, annihilating my entire existence. “No,” he hissed out again before resuming his feverish kiss.
Clutching his chest, I kissed him with my swollen lips, my knees weakening as my mind turned to mush, opening up to him, while he took charge. Even through his kiss, I knew he was possessed with jealousy.
I felt his fingers against my thong, making me lose my breath. Pushing my underwear to the side, he began to rub my clit furiously while I moaned and shivered, feeling intimately exposed yet past caring that anyone could walk by any second.
Somewhere deep within, I could feel my release slowly begin to build, soaring higher as his fingers sped up. Then, just as I was about to catch a release, he pulled his fingers away, gazing at me, his eyes lost, full of rage, full of emotions, before his wet coated middle finger traced my bottom lip slowly, erotically. His tongue then traced where his finger had been, licking away my essence before that finger found its way to my lip again.
“Suck it. Show me just how you’d suck my dick.”
Lost in his spell, I mustered up the courage to do as he asked, hoping it would please him since my experience was nonexistent.
I grazed the tip of his finger with my tongue while my eyes lasciviously took him in. His face proved how this gesture was stimulating his arousal. Encouraged, I took his wrist, guiding his finger farther into my mouth, taking him slowly, deliberately.
His lips parted as his eyes intensely zeroed in on my lips. Without disconnecting from his menacing gaze, I used my other hand to travel lower, grabbing his rock hard length before I eagerly rubbed my palm against it through his jeans.
Lowering the zipper, I anticipated the feel of him in my hand as my heart caught inside my throat. For ages, I had craved to touch it, feel it, stroke it while I reveled in his reaction.
When I finally captured its thick silkiness, eagerly wrapping my greedy hand around it, a guttural sound gasped out of him. He was enormous, marvelous, and beautifully so. I couldn’t figure out how he had managed to fit it all inside of me. His cock was rigid with a few veins on its smooth surface.
Lost in my own selfish needs, my thumb carried on, caressing the tip of its thick, silky, bulbous head, smearing the moisture against it.
“Fuck, fuck. Damn you, baby.” Pressing his hard body against me, I heard him growl. It was so powerful his chest vibrated against mine. Then, before I realized what was happening, I felt his hardness push against my tight opening.
We both stopped breathing, our eyes devouring each other, hearts beating rapidly against our chests while we felt its pressure against my entrance.
“Forgive me, but I can’t resist you anymore,” he uttered before driving his cock inside me full throttle.
When I’d said I hadn’t had sex with anyone but him, I had meant that nothing had gone in there since him. Therefore, even though I was beyond wet and ready for him, it didn’t make it less painful. I felt the acute burning sting of him stretching me to the hilt, knocking the air out of me.
“Are you okay?” he rasped out, blowing hot air into my ear while he kept thrusting inside of me, but not as rapidly as he had before.
Making a small nod, I encouraged him to take me, to take as much as he could, because I had ached to feel him for so long. The pain and everything else didn’t matter. Him, this … This was absolute.
“Don’t stop.” Panting, I kissed him until I no longer felt the burn as he glided in and out while my back gently grazed against the brick wall. “Fuck me harder … please.”
He was restraining himself, but for some insane reason, I needed him to take me no holds barred
.
“I can, but I won’t. Not when you’re so tight. I won’t be able to last long. I’m already having a hard time controlling myself.”
“Harder. Give me that big, fat cock. All of it,” I commanded, reckless with abandon. “I love you.” My heart ached while my hands captured his face before repeating those words again. “I’ll always love you.”
“Chloe,” he harshly grunted before crashing his lips on mine, alleviating that ache deeply seated within me, taking me higher, fucking me deeper while I screamed his name as I came all over him. “Baby,” he thundered into my ear before he tensed, his hands gripping my hips as he plunged inside me before his thick, soul-crushing orgasm hit him.
He shattered as he exploded inside of me while my muscles contracted, gripping his shaft as he filled me with his seed while he breathed against my neck, holding me close, as if he were afraid to let me go.
Chapter Sixteen
There was no going back inside after what I had just done. Cori might be wondering where I was, but I had a feeling that the boys would make an excuse for me. I didn’t have the willpower to face him, nor could I summon the courage to tell Drew where my thoughts were at the moment. We had just shared the most explosive sex, and I couldn’t bring myself to rock the boat.
Zipped up and patiently waiting, I took a moment to gather my bearings. Without a word from him, I could feel the weight of his gaze.
“Drew …”
He immediately closed the small distance between us, placing a finger against my lips with a soft look. “Shh, no more, not tonight … please. Let’s just be us, just us, just you and me. We have tomorrow for talking, but tonight, I want nothing else except you.”
Oh, Lord. When had he become such a hopeless Romeo? Had we really reached a place where there was no turning back?
“I don’t have my phone. My clutch is with the boys.”
“I’ll phone the bar on our way. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
“Okay.”
From there, we hailed a cab. He took me to Mandarin Oriental Hotel, a place that was right next to Central Park, where he effortlessly booked the best available suite. Oddly, he seemed to know his way around here, as if he were quite at ease, so much so that the doorman greeted him by name. This was the shag spot where he normally brought his women, then. That had to be it— a fancy hotel for his pretty models.
Okay, I couldn’t help being such a bitch about his fuck shack, but I was getting better at zipping my loud mouth. He meant to have me all night long, and heaven, help me, I wanted it just as much, if not more.
Fuck the dark, sexy Cori’s of the world; this man was all I had ever wanted. He was more than enough. And as much as I hated the thought of him bringing women here, my arousal didn’t ebb. In fact, it escalated to a fever pitch.
“Tired?” He smiled, pulling me against him before kissing me slowly while I heard the elevator doors close behind us.
Coming up for air, I held on to him as I looked up at him. “Yeah, a little. And a little drunk.”
As he pressed his lips to my cheek, I could feel him smile against my skin. “Want to join me for a bath?”
“Need you ask?” I would do anything in a heartbeat to prolong this side of him.
He was pensive as he caressed my cheek. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight? I like this new look, but I prefer you without any artifice. Just you with your messy hair, that smile you make when I do something you like while you wear one of my shirts, waiting for me to join you in bed.” Despite his words, there was something in his tone that gave away how he wasn’t all that pleased.
“Are you saying you don’t like my hair? The dress? The makeup? That’s not what I heard tonight.”
He became tense as something flashed in his eyes. “I saw how he almost had you on the floor. If I didn’t interrupt, he’d probably have you in one of the bathroom stalls in thirty minutes tops.”
How long had he been there? The entire time? Had he been tracking me since I’d left the condo? Who knew when this sexy beast had turned into my stalker? It troubled me just as it amazed me how he had gone to such great lengths to get what he wanted—me.
I remembered how I had been with Cori and how welcoming I had been to his advances. Little had I known that this hot stalker had been there to watch my every move. It was overwhelming, but the ultimate die-hard side of me relished the idea that he was somewhat obsessive. He was jealous, and I didn’t pity him one bit, because I had gone through far worse, a harrowing experience endured for years. And in regards to Cori and my behavior … Well, there wasn’t much to be said.
He took in my silence before I heard a low growl from his chest. “You like him,” he accusingly stated.
I did. Anyone with eyes could see I did, so why keep harping on the damn subject? Why couldn’t he let it go? I was here with him, wasn’t I? Did it bruise his ego since Cori was the first man who had sparked my interest since God had granted this earth a Drew Cavendish? He best get over it and fast, because I wasn’t going to apologize.
I decided to opt out of responding, so I did what any other guilty person would—pretended I hadn’t heard anything I chose, instead, to mend the tiny gap between us by reaching up to kiss him on the lips and was unexpectedly greeted with a cool, reluctant response, which ticked me off more than I cared to admit.
“You said to leave the talking for tomorrow; how about we stick to the plan?” I timidly pointed out.
Unpredictably, he gave a strained smile while barely looking me in the eye. “I need a moment. I’ll eventually get used to it.”
Without uttering another word, I minded myself while keeping close to him. His revelation was quite astounding, yet I wasn’t all that bit surprised. What shocked me was how casually he had confessed to it. He just wasn’t the type to divulge his feelings toward anyone, so for him to address it loudly, it spoke volumes.
Our suite overlooked Central Park and Manhattan’s skyline. Squashing the thought that he had probably done this to every woman he brought here, I dwelled on the scene below me.
Being with him made me feel alive. Never had I felt more attuned to my femininity, my body language, my surroundings, and even the air I breathed. My senses bloomed like a budding flower on a spring morning, vividly capturing the beauty around me and the very man who had bewitched me, lighting a fire within me, brighter than anything I could ever imagine. He awoke that carnal instinct that was deeply intrinsic within the walls of my restraint, igniting that animalistic part of me to come out and play. I felt unhindered, drunk in love, and we had barely begun.
While I gazed about the room, the powerful, magnetic heat of those devouring eyes followed me, waiting, preying.
The room was tailored in cream, grey, and black hues with a vibrant tone of amethyst that gave the oriental feel. The orchids and flowers with the same accents were strategically placed, flowing perfectly into the persistent Eastern ambiance.
Someone buzzed at the door, and Drew had to excuse himself to get it.
“Mr. Cavendish?” I could faintly hear an exchange of words before the door was quietly shut and Drew came back into view, effortlessly striding toward me with my purse.
“The concierge brought your things,” he announced with a toe-curling smile before handing them to me.
Having difficulty matching his smile, I frowned at him. “Manolo came to drop it off downstairs?”
Drew shook his head. “I asked one of the managers to have someone get your belongings.” He strolled toward the fridge and pulled out two chilled water bottles.
“They do that?”
“Looks like they do.”
“Thanks
This version of him was—I was sure—what those models often got from him. He took charge while catering to one’s needs. It was no wonder he wasn’t in short supply of those pretties hanging off him.
“I feel like I’m dati—I mean, it sort of feels like I’m with someone older than twenty-one—and what I
meant before with ‘I’m with someone,’ I meant for this weekend, not permanently. You know what I mean?” My stuttering never failed to make me look like an idiot each time I tried to explain something that was truly in my heart.
While my heart hammered against my chest, Drew simply eyed me for a moment before raising his hand with the unopened bottle. “Thirsty?”
Shaking my head, I tried to rationalize and ordered myself to breathe and calm down. I would cherish this time with him without taking it to heart. In a way, it could be a good-bye in the most unconventional way. Come Monday, I seriously hoped Cori wouldn’t be too pissed about me ditching him without a word of good-bye. Speaking of which, I opened my clutch and pulled out my phone, scanning the screen. A few missed calls from Cori, along with two messages, and another from Spencer and Manolo.
Trying to hide any emotion, I looked up to find Drew watching my every move as he finished drinking his water.
“Do you mind if I make a quick call?”
He stared at me, unblinking, as if ready to attack. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes. It’s rude if I don’t. I was supposed to be his date, not yours. He might think I went out with him to get a free dinner, only to bail when I got a chance.” Making a joke out of the situation wasn’t one of my brightest moments.
“Do you want me to let you go?” The dark, mercurial look about him re-emerged. Undecipherable.
Did he mean tonight or forever? He wasn’t very forthcoming, and it didn’t help to calm my nerves with the way he was looking at me. Jesus, what was wrong with him?
“It’s just a quick call, Drew. Stop acting like I stabbed you or something.”
His jaw locked, eyes making deep holes into me before he finally made a decisive nod. “You’re right. Go make that call, Chloe. I’m going downstairs for a drink.”
What? It couldn’t be helped; I began to panic because he was acting so strangely. Hell, this whole thing was bizarre, but Drew wasn’t about to give me a break, and he was driving me deliriously crazy.