For Us (The Girl I Loved Duet 2)

“I do remember that,” he says, leaning closer. I notice he keeps his body just inches from mine, like he’s leaning closer just to hear me speak. We both know that it’s more than that. This is kind of exciting. Like we have a secret from the world. A secret identity, but sexy. A sexy identity.

“I went into the bathroom to fix my lipstick, and there were people in the stalls.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “That is usually how a bathroom works.”

I laugh. “Not like that. There were two people in one stall, and they were having sex. Can you imagine that?”

Peter’s eyes go dark. “Yes. I’m imagining that right now.”

“I was hoping that you would say that.”

“Really?” His smile is slow and seductive, and I feel it shiver through me, making me wetter than I already was.

“Really,” I say. Taking my drink, I finish it in one long sip, and lean into him. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Meet me there. Soon. But not so soon that people notice.”

Peter doesn’t take his eyes off me as I slip off the bar stool and grab my clutch. I give him a sexy look over my shoulder as I slip into the crowd of people, and I can feel the intensity of his gaze from here. It’s hot and hungry and I’m vibrating with the energy he’s sending me. God, I want him.

The bathroom muffles the sound of the pounding music, and I check under the stall doors before going into the handicap stall. I hang my bag on the back of the door and lean against the wall, swaying with the muffled beat. I don’t lock the stall. Not until I hear the door open and the sound of footsteps. Peter comes into the stall and I lock it behind him seconds before he has me pressed up against the door and is kissing me.

Everything is sheer heat. It’s not restrained like the kiss we had this morning. We’re both a little drunk, a little sloppy, and both starving for each other. It’s been three days without him touching me and I need him everywhere.

I open my mouth underneath his, and his tongue strokes across mine. I swear I feel it on my clit. I’m shivering and I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. His arms are on my back leaving trails of fire on my skin.

Peter’s lips move to my neck, and I moan. “God.”

“Yes?”

I giggle, the sound echoing around the bathroom. “More, please.” But then I see him, and I laugh harder.

“What?”

“You’re going to have to wipe your mouth. My lipstick is all over you.”

Peter goes still, and his fingers tighten on my skin. I remember what he told me earlier about smudged lipstick, and a sheer wave of desire goes through me. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice hoarse.

“I know,” I say, as I’m getting on my knees. My fingers are on his belt and I flip us around so he’s leaning against the door now. I can feel how hard he is through his jeans, and I stroke him, and he makes a sound I don’t think I’ve ever heard before—dark and desperate and erotic. And I haven’t even touched his skin yet.

Tugging on his belt, I slip his pants down until his cock springs free, huge and hard, the tip glistening so close. I look up at Peter, and he has his hands spread, grabbing the top of the stall and his knuckles are white. He’s keeping himself still, so still, waiting for my next move. I give him a big smile and press my lips to his skin, purposely sliding my lips across it and leaving a mark. One side and then the other, so there are purple smudges on his shaft.

It’s hotter than I thought it would be. I kiss the tip of his cock too, leaving a purple set of lips, and smile again. “Is this what you imagined?”

All I get is a groan, and I laugh as I take him into my mouth. He’s thick and hard in my mouth and he feels so familiar and so different. Definitely bigger than the last time I did this, but the memories come sliding back, and my body remembers what he likes.

I slowly take more of him and more of him until he’s almost completely in my mouth, because I’ve learned some new tricks too.

“Jesus, Amber,” Peter says, voice strained and raw.

I only hum in response, and that gets me another groan. I pull back, sucking my way back to the tip, because I know that he loves that, and I love the feeling of his skin on my lips. But I plunge down again before I release him, setting a rhythm of fast down, slow back, listening to the way Peter gasps as he hits the back of my throat.