His smile was hesitant but genuine. “Okay.”

Blood rushed hotly through my veins, bubbling with anticipation. I nearly burst when he stood up, expecting him to push me down onto my back on the oversized ottoman but . . . he didn’t. His attention swung toward the hallway. “Will you be all right on your own for a minute? I need to use the restroom.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to get hold of myself. “Uh, sure.”

He nodded and strode to the hallway, disappearing behind the door to the men’s room. With him gone, there was nothing to do but watch the people around me, and it didn’t take long to understand why Clay enjoyed coming here.

Even as a spectator, it was incredibly hot.

I turned around to face the couples across from me, where one of the men was now fucking the woman he’d been going down on. His pants were down just enough to cut across his bare ass, and his muscles flexed and hardened with each of his thrusts. And since I was turned halfway around, when the cushion I was sitting on flattened beneath me, I spun, expecting it to be Clay.

“That was fast—oh,” I said.

The woman had a toothy grin and lipstick that was bright red, and for a moment it was all I could see. Her tone was sugary-sweet. “Hey, you.”

“Um, hi.” I pushed out a friendly, confused smile. I didn’t know this woman. She was quite a bit older than I was, wearing a lowcut black dress that was so tight, it looked like her boobs were going to pop out at any moment.

“You’re new,” she said, running a hand through the strands of her wavy brown hair. “We haven’t seen you before.”

“We?”

She giggled and flicked a finger toward a man standing nearby. “Me and my boyfriend. He’s cute, right?”

Uh . . .

He looked like he was the same age as my dad. The guy had his hands in his pants pockets and a lewd smile plastered on his face, like he’d sent his girlfriend over to warm me up. I squeezed out a polite smile, but my tone was cool. “Sure, he looks nice.”

She was about to wave him over when Clay reappeared, and a scowl formed on his lips when he saw the woman at my side.

“No, thank you.” His tone was gruff. “We’re not interested.”

Her mouth dropped open, her lipstick forming a perfectly red oval, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she got up in a huff and scurried away with her boyfriend in tow.

“That was kind of rude,” I told him when she was gone and he’d returned to his seat across from me.

“Was it?” His expression was plain. “You think it would have been better to make polite conversation for the next half-hour and waste everyone’s time? Or were you interested in either of them?”

“No,” I said. “But you were really direct.”

He looked at me like I was being naïve. “I’ve come here long enough to know that’s the only thing those two understand. If you’re not clear, they think they have a chance. You’re so far out of their league, I’m a little offended they tried, and a lot offended with how they waited until I wasn’t around to do it.”

“Well, they’re gone now. You’ve successfully run them off.” I gave him a lopsided smile. “Where were we?”

“We were going to talk about how this is going to work.”

My smile hung. “Talk?”

He flashed an amused look, like he found derailing me entertaining, but then he turned serious. He leaned forward and took my hand. It was the first time he’d touched me where I didn’t feel any motive behind it, other than he just wanted a connection.

“I’d like a relationship with you.”

“Okay,” I said before realizing he wasn’t finished.

“Our relationship isn’t going to be like what you’re used to.” He studied the way he played with my fingers, as if fascinated by them. “And it might not be long before you realize it’s not enough for you. I can give you a lot of things you’ll like.” His gaze had been focused on his fingertips tracing my hand, but it snapped to mine. “Pleasure. Pain. Even euphoria. I can show you how good you are at things you don’t realize you’re capable of. But I know my limits, Lilith.”

His fingers urged mine apart so he could lace our hands together.

“We’ll trust each other and enjoy being together. And I’ll care for you, but . . . I won’t fall in love. It’s not something I do. So, if that’s your end goal,” sadness hinted at the edges of his eyes, “we might as well stop now.”

I filled my lungs with air as I considered what he’d said and how to respond.

“It’s not my goal,” I said softly. His discerning gaze tightened like he didn’t believe me, but I squeezed his hand. “Look, I’ve never fallen in love, and honestly? I don’t plan on doing it—at least not anytime soon.”

Tags: Nikki Sloane Nashville Neighborhood Erotic
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