The Bet (Winslow Brothers 1)

Jude’s hands are in my hair again, and he tugs gently on my locks so that my body is stretched out far enough for his mouth to reach my breasts.

But he never removes my dress. Instead, he sucks at my nipple through the material, and for some insane reason, it feels like the hottest, most illicit thing I’ve ever done with someone.

I mean, we’re in a private VIP room, inside a busy, packed nightclub, doing things that we definitely shouldn’t be doing. I never thought I’d be the type of girl to get off on doing dirty, bad things in public places, but hell’s bells, I’m apparently that girl with Jude.

He moves his hand down to my lower back as he switches his mouth to my other nipple, and in perfect sync, he sucks at the pliant flesh in rhythm with the way he grinds his still-covered cock against my bare pussy.

Every thrust forward, the tip of his cock strokes against that one perfect, swollen, needy spot that causes little shock waves of pleasure to build in my belly.

It feels incredible, and I’d do just about anything to be able to unzip his pants and slide him inside me, but his hold is steady and solid, and the only chance of orgasmic relief stems from the way his warm mouth sucks at the material of my dress around my nipples and each grinding thrust of his hips.

The me of a year ago never would have thought it’d be possible to actually get off, all the way off the climax train, with this kind of foreplay, but when the throb between my thighs begins to spread down my legs and up my spine and multiplies tenfold, the me of now remembers that it’s different with this man—intense, unexplainable, mind-bending.

I’m so close that it only takes a few more strokes of his covered cock against me before the first waves of pleasure hit my nerves.

Holy shiiiiiit. I’m coming. I’m literally coming.

Shock and awe consume me at the same time that Jude pushes me over the edge, and just as the biggest wave takes over, he presses his lips to mine and swallows all the moans and whimpers that escape my throat.

I have zero control, and all I can do is just shut my eyes and let my orgasm devour me, all the while kissing Jude as if my life depends on it.

And I don’t know how long it lasts or how long I stay like that, moaning and panting in his arms, but when I finally come down from my orgasmic high and open my eyes, I find Jude staring at me, his blue eyes still blazing.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come,” he whispers, and his mouth is just a few inches from my parted lips. “I need to see you do that again, but this time, I need my cock inside you.”

Oh boy.

“Ready to get out of here, Sophie?”

I only have one response to that.

“Yes.”

Jude

We could’ve walked the ten blocks to her place in Nolita, but the name of the game right now is speed.

The city lights flash past the taxi windows as our driver heads in the direction of Sophie’s apartment. It’s a little after one in the morning and I left the club about two hours earlier than I normally do on Friday nights, but it’s all because of the little temptress sitting beside me.

That green dress of hers skates dangerously high up her thighs, and every time I glance in her direction to take in the beauty that is her gorgeous body or her mesmerizing eyes or soft, perfect, red-painted lips, I feel like my cock grows longer by an inch.

Frankly, I’m so turned on right now I can hardly stand it. Give me some wood and a couple nails, and my sidekick could hammer the damn things clean through.

Her gem-colored eyes meet mine in the back seat of the dimly lit cab, and I don’t miss the way she bites down on her bottom lip.

Pointedly and without breaking eye contact, I reach up and rest my hand atop the right pocket of my suit pants, where Sophie’s silky black panties sit inside. And she sees me do it because I want her to see me do it.

Her body’s reaction doesn’t disappoint. Her teeth dig farther into her bottom lip, and she shifts her hips and thighs ever-so-slightly in her seat.

Her pussy is bare, my mind taunts me. Completely fucking bare. And wet. And just begging for your mouth.

The more I think about that mind-blowing fact, the more I itch to cover her up with my suit jacket. There’s no fucking way I want the cabbie to catch a glimpse of the gloriousness that sits between Sophie’s perfect thighs.

And without hesitation, that’s exactly what I do. Once my suit jacket covers her lap and legs to my liking, she looks up and meets my steady gaze with a curious crinkle lifting up her nose.