“True enough.” She’s cute—and more than a little hot—trying to be bad.
“So, what’s yours?” she says with a sexy smile.
Ah. So she wants to pretend she doesn’t know me? I’m not big on women being coy, but with this one, it’s all good.
Since we’re being “mysterious” here… “I’m Batman,” I say with a wink. He’s one of my favorite superheroes, and everyone knows Gotham City is really New York.
She laughs, and the sound does something crazy to my system. I dip my head for a kiss.
This time she meets me with open lips. She loops her arms around my neck and molds her body to mine. Her breasts crush against my chest, and I groan. She’s making me impatient and overly needy. Like a teenaged boy who’s about to get laid for the first time.
Get your shit together, man.
I want to give her uterus-blowing orgasms. So fucking good she has no choice but to say yes when I ask her to join us on tour. If she has a job… Well, we’ll figure out the logistics. Money gives you a lot of options.
When the elevator doors open, I put my hand on an ass so tight it feels like it was molded by a python, and then sweep her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and kisses me harder, and I carry her like that down the hall to my suite. I swipe the card across the lock, and we spill into the huge, luxuriously appointed space.
I drop the key card on the floor and push her against the wall, running my hands all over her, trying to feel as much of her as possible. The taut, smooth legs, the soft curves of her shoulders, the sensitive lines of her neck. Everything about her is driving me crazy. She smells even more like sugary pear, and I swear, there’s some kind of insanely addictive pheromone drug in her scent. My brain can’t process anything. Lust is in charge, driving me mindlessly.
I finally carry her to bed. Housekeeping has done the turndown service, and there’s a small golden box of chocolates on the pillow. I toss it on the nightstand for later. When B is totally exhausted, I’ll refuel her so we can go for another round.
I unzip her dress, stripping her out of the red silk. She’s lying on the bed, knees bent over the edge and sandaled feet dangling. The matching black and red lace bra and thong contrast sharply with her pale skin. If I hadn’t seen the guileless way she looked at me at the reception, I’d think she picked them knowing she’d run into somebody from the band.
The sexy underwear ratchets my desire up a notch. I rip my clothes off, hearing something tear but not giving a shit. All that matters is getting naked as fast as possible.
B watches me strip, which is a good development. I work my ass off to look good naked, and I’m proud that the sight of my body is spreading a flush through her face and chest as she takes me in.
She stares at my dick, too. “Wow, you’re big,” she blurts out. Then, almost immediately, her cheeks turn bright red.
I laugh. “And I know exactly what to do with it.”
I wrap my hand around her silken hair and return to kissing and petting her, feeling her softness against my body. I stroke her, from neck to shoulders, then below. I cup her breast through the bra; the soft mound fits my palm perfectly. As hot as the lace looks on her, it’s in the way. I unhook her bra and push it aside. Her nipples are pointed and pretty. I pull one into my mouth and suck, feeling my libido going into overdrive.
Ms. Bad sinks her fingers into my hair, moaning loudly. It’s like an aphrodisiac. Need thrums in my gut, and I consume her greedily, taking the other nipple, then covering her body with endless kisses and licks.
I rip the thong off her. She smells of woman and arousal.
“My God, you’re gorgeous,” I say, my eyes on her pink and glistening flesh. I put my mouth on her and hear a strangled cry.
I grip her hips and eat her up. Air saws in and out of her shuddering chest. Her legs move restlessly, then begin to squeeze as tension builds inside her.
Soon she’s rocking against my face, and I almost laugh at how good that makes me feel. I’m enjoying everything about this moment—being with her, smelling her, tasting her, pushing her to a climax.
And then it happens, the spasming of her muscles, the catching of breath, the soft exhalation.
“Wow…” she whisper
s as she slowly comes down from her high. She’s gorgeous and sexy, her eyes glazed, her lips swollen.
My cock aches, demanding to be inside her now. I grab a condom from the drawer by the bed and sheathe myself.
Then I position myself above her, and slowly…slooowly…we fuse. She’s so tight, so hot, I’m barely hanging on to control. She whimpers, the sound like a drug. The only thing I register is the tight grip she has on me: top, bottom and center. And how amazing the skin-to-skin contact feels. It’s like coming home and having all your dreams come true at once. I’ve never felt anything like it.
Blood roars in my head, and I kiss her while moving in and out of her, my vision hazy with desire. She hangs on, nails digging into my shoulders, ankles locked behind my back.
“Baby, I’m going to make you fly,” I say against the crook of her neck, then kiss and suck on the spot. I hate leaving marks on women in bed, because they might take it the wrong way. But with B, I’m driven to mark her as mine, even if it’s with something as juvenile as a hickey.
She groans, then moves to match my rhythm. I thrust into her with more force and speed, needing to see her fall apart in my arms. Her strawberry-blond hair is spread in tangles on the sheet, her face and torso flushed rose. Sweat mists, and I lick the salt off her heated skin.