Beautiful Bombshell (Beautiful Bastard 2.5)

He looked down at the money, his eyes widening, and then smiled back up at me. “‘Talk’?”

“Yes, sir.”

His gaze moved to Chloe. “That okay with you, miss? I might not look like much now, but back in my day I could drop a pretty boy like this before he knew what hit him.”

Beside me, Chloe laughed. “Something tells me you still could,” she said with a wink. “And trust me, I’m perfectly capable of dropping this pretty boy as well.”

“I don’t doubt that.” His smile widened, revealing a white, toothy grin. “You know,” he said, looking down at his watch, “I just realized it’s time I took my break.” He reached for a hat hanging on a hook and set it on his head, winking as he moved the CLOSED FOR CLEANING sign outside and in front of the door.

I watched her for a moment as the door shut behind him, then crossed the room to flip the lock.

Chloe lifted herself up to the wide marble counter and sat looking at me, long legs crossed in front of her. The room was luxurious, more of a sitting room with adjoining stalls than a traditional bathroom. The floor was the same black and gold as the rest of the casino, with three wing-back chairs grouped against the far wall and a blue leather bench set between them. A huge, tinkling chandelier hung in the center of the room, painting the walls in specks of colored light.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked, eyes hopeful.

“A world of trouble.” I took a step toward her.

“This seems to be a reoccurring theme.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Are you going to tell me what I did wrong?” She looked up at me with wide eyes and cheeks a mischievous pink. She was so f**king beautiful. “Should I have used my own hand instead?”

“Not funny.” My heart slammed beneath my ribs, and I grew drunk from the steady thrum of adrenaline as it slipped through my veins. Her gaze never wavered as I crossed the room to spread her legs and step between her thighs.

I trailed a finger down the smooth skin of her calf, wrapping a hand around her ankle. “These shoes don’t look very sensible,” I said, brushing a thumb over the soft leather.

She continued to watch me, lips red and slick and so f**king tempting. “Maybe I’m not feeling very sensible this weekend. Is that why I’m in trouble?”

“You’re in trouble because you’re impossible.”

She lifted her chin and met my eyes. “I learned from the best.”

I moved her foot to my hip and traced a path up her thigh and beneath her skirt. I clenched my jaw as a fresh wave of frustration swept through me over how she’d left me at the club, how proud she was for leaving me hard, and how ninety percent of our arguments could be boiled down to one of us trying to get a reaction out of the other. Seriously f**ked-up situation we had going on here.

Still.

Gripping her ass with both hands, I ignored her sharp inhale as I jerked her to the edge of the counter.

“You—” She started to protest, but I stopped her, placing a finger against her mouth. She still smelled unfamiliar—floral, not citrus—but beneath the heavy makeup and new perfume there was something softer in her eyes, something inherently Chloe. She could play dress-up all she wanted, but the woman who was mine would always be there. The realization was like drowning, and I leaned forward, replacing my finger with my lips and quickly becoming lost in her little breaths and sounds as she moved eagerly into my touch. Her kiss felt like a drug seeping into my bloodstream, and I pushed my hand into her hair and tilted her head, wanting more than the soft flicks of tongue between our parted lips.

With my palm on her chest, I guided her to lie down onto the counter, moving her how I wanted and not being particularly gentle about it, either. But she went willingly, eyes widening in recognition of the game we were playing, mouth soft and open. She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at me, waiting to see what I’d do next.

The gauzy material of her skirt felt like nothing in my hands as I slid it up her hips, exposing miles of leg and a different pair of satin panties beneath. I let my fingers press into her skin, wanting to hold her down and mark her up, hear her beg for what she wanted.

“I’m going to f**k you with my mouth,” I said, kneeling between her thighs and ghosting my lips over the thin material. “Fuck you with my tongue until you’re begging for my cock. Maybe I’ll give it to you.” I shrugged. “Maybe I won’t.”

She sucked in a short breath and reached for my hair, trying to pull me forward. “Don’t tease, Bennett,” she said.

I pushed her hands away, laughing as I looked up at her. “You don’t get to make any of the decisions tonight, Chloe. Not after your bullshit game in the club.” I breathed again where her legs parted, flicking my tongue over her cl*t until the fabric of her panties was thick with wetness. “You kissed me, let me taste your tits, came on my hand, and then left me there. Hard. That wasn’t very nice.”

“I . . . what?” she said, eyes unfocused as she watched me, a flush of color moving up her neck.

Leaning forward again, I pinned her h*ps to the counter, kissing and nipping at her through the thin satin until it was soaked. Her head fell back and she moaned, whispering my name into the silent room.

“Louder,” I said against her. “Let me hear you.”

“Take them off. Suck on me.”

The neediness in her voice sent a jolt of electricity through my body and I wrapped the thin straps in my hand and viciously ripped them, wanting them down and gone and nothing between her and my mouth.

She cried out, arching against me at the first touch of my tongue to her skin, her fingers digging into my hair and her voice ringing all around us.

The space was awkward but it didn’t matter, and was more than made up for when I looked to the side to find her watching our reflection in the mirror, teeth biting into her bottom lip. I met her eyes as I tasted her, sliding my tongue across and inside.

I added a finger, then two, and watched as they moved in her, wet with how much she wanted me. Her voice was nothing more than a breathy whisper and my name over and over as she asked for more and opened her legs wider, the heel of her sexy shoe scraping along the countertop. I could feel the heat of her all around me, the way she started to tremble as she got closer.

“Good?” I asked, making sure my voice vibrated against her.

She nodded, breathless, moving her hands above her head to push into her hair. “So good. Oh fuck, Bennett, so close.”

God it was torture, wanting to watch her lose control, but wanting to feel it, too, needing to feel her.

I tried to hide my desperation as I fit my hands to her h*ps and all but threw her to the bench, hovering above her to lick a line from her navel to the scrap of lace she called a bra. Sitting up, I unbuttoned the top of my shirt, reached blindly for my belt, and undid my pants. I freed my c*ck and almost gasped as she swatted my hand away and took me in her palm.

“No,” I said, flipping her over to her knees and stepping behind her. “You had your time to play earlier. This is mine.” I lifted her ass into the air, slapping it hard.

She gasped, turning around to look at me.

I gave her a dark smile, running my hand over her skin, soothing. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare.

“You are welcome to stop me anytime,” I murmured. “I’m sure this is absolute torture for you.”

I brushed the tip of my c*ck through her wetness and down to her clit, circling, teasing.

“You’re an a**hole,” she managed finally, and I brought my hand against her ass again, harder. But this time instead of surprise, she moaned, hoarse and hungry.

Then that was all there was: Chloe and the sounds she made, the way she asked me to push inside, to f**k her. And when I did, and smacked her ass again, she pleaded for harder and more.

But even when I took what I wanted it wasn’t enough; it never would be. I could feel the weight of it somewhere deep in my stomach—the absolute love I felt for her, the constant need to touch and feel and take, to mark her from the inside out.

I twisted my fingers in the material of her shirt, pulled it lower so I could see her br**sts move as I f**ked her. Her hair fell across her back and I ran my hands under it, feeling the cool strands against my skin. I watched as I slid in and out of her, the way she pushed back against me, her skirt bunched up over her pink ass and around her hips.