by Stacey Lewis
“It’s okay, sweet thing. I don’t want you to be some quick fuck in a bar bathroom stall when I have a hotel room booked a few blocks away. I figured we could go there.” It has nothing to do with her; I just didn’t want to be sitting at home, knowing my brothers were probably going to be making every attempt they could to get me out of the penthouse apartment.
Maybe I read this girl wrong. Maybe she doesn’t want what I do, though her kiss and reaction to my touch says otherwise. She studies me for more than a few seconds, and just when I’m about to say fuck it and take her back inside the bar she finally wins whatever internal battle she’s been waging against herself and lets me help her inside.
The dark interior of the back seat has me clenching my hands into fists, my blunt nails biting painfully into the flesh of my palm as I tell myself taking her in the backseat is a bad idea. Under any other circumstances I don’t mind having someone watch, but with her? I don’t want the driver to hear any of her sounds or see how she responds to pleasure. Those moments are for my eyes and ears only.
Her pleasure is mine, and for tonight, so is her body.
Inside the SUV she looks around, eyeballing the interior. She looks so innocent, almost naïve, and I have half a mind to ask her how old she is, but I don’t want her to be offended.
“We were celebrating my new job.” She blurts out, her eyes meeting mine as she shifts in her seat, causing her dress to ride up. My mouth waters and I avert my eyes back up to hers. They’re the color of whiskey, amber with gold flakes in them. They’re so clear and warm, even after all the wine she’s consumed.
“Congratulations. That’s such a great accomplishment and I for one am glad as hell you came out tonight.” I wiggle my eyebrows teasing her.
She’s celebrating this great thing happening in her life, while I’m mourning the loss of the most important person in mine. I push the depressing thought out of my head, choosing to concentrate on her instead. The shitty things going through my head disappear when I touch her, and I’m determined not to think tonight. I feel like I can breathe when she looks at me, like the entire weight of my father’s death is off my shoulders.
“Well Mr. Serious, why were you at the bar tonight?” She leans into me, her breath smelling faintly of the red wine she drank earlier, the scent reminding me of berries. It’s exotic, warm and so fucking intoxicating. I lick my lips ready to bite into her at any second. Then, her question registers in my mind and I realize what she’s asking me.
“I…” Trailing off, I wonder what I can say that won’t ruin this moment. “It was a rough night at the office making deals. I needed a stiff drink, and then you appeared.” I lay the charm on thick, trying to hide my lie, and the pain I’m feeling just beneath the mask. Thankfully she takes my answer, and melts into my hands like chocolate you’ve been holding in your hand for too long.
“I don’t need a fancy hotel room. I just want you.” She starts to say something else, but the car rolls to a stop and when I look out the window, we’ve already arrived at the hotel.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I’m quick to get out, pulling her behind me and into the lavish building. A part of me hates that our night together will be spent in a hotel room. I’d rather take her to my apartment so I can have her scent on my sheets when she’s gone, but I can’t risk my brothers showing up and ruining this for me.
She’s staring up at me in awe, making me realize this isn’t something she’s used to. It’s not like I didn’t already realize she’s not the type of woman I usually hook up with, she doesn’t give a shit how much money I have or what I can do for her. Hell, she hasn’t gushed about seeing my name on a magazine cover. She hasn’t even asked me my name.
All she wants is the pleasure I can give her … the pleasure I’m about to give her.
Once we’re in the elevator, it takes everything in me not to push her up against the wall and devour her, but I know once I start I’m not going to be able to stop. It doesn’t help that the damn thing is moving so slow it feels like it’s taking a year to make it to the twelfth floor. I can see the anticipation on her face, and knowing she wants me just as badly as I want her makes my cock harden further.
The elevator finally dings, revealing the top floor, and I’m consumed with need as I take her hand in mine, noticing how small it is in comparison to my own. She’s fragile, and based on how anxious she is, I’m guessing she’s never had a one-night stand before.
When we make it to the door of my room I pause, pulling her against my chest. She nibbles on her bottom lip nervously, and I wish so badly I could be the one doing that right now.
“Are you sure this is what you want? Because once we cross that threshold there won’t be any going back. I’m barely containing myself now,” I warn, holding her angelic face in my hands. I examine her face, as if I’m taking a photographic memory for later. Perfect high cheekbones, an adorable as fuck button nose, and plump ruby red lips. She looks a little like Marilyn Monroe, and a whole lot like mine.
I wait for her to answer me, my stomach bunching up in knots. We’ve both been drinking a lot, maybe this isn’t the best idea.
A brilliant smile graces her lips at the question. “I want you. I want this. Make tonight one I’ll never forget.” She whispers, pushing up onto her toes so she can press her lips to mine. The kiss is fierce, moving, everything. I can feel every emotion she has right in that moment, and all from the simple touch of her lips.
I slip the room key into the door and push it open when the thing turns green. I keep her body plastered against mine, and she wraps her legs around me, hiking her dress up further. The sound of the fabric ripping registers in my ears, but I don’t really care.
She won’t need clothes for what we’re going to be doing anyway. She’s molten lava in my hands, and as I grip her firm ass in my hands I’m overtaken with need. Pushing the door shut with my foot, I navigate us towards the bedroom. The woman moans into my mouth, her lips devouring mine as if she’s starved and I can relate.
I lay her on the bed; undoing my pants in a hurry because I’m still a little worried she’s going to back out at the last minute. If she does, I’ll stop with no question, but I can’t help but pray she lets me have her … even if it’s just for tonight.
It can only be for tonight, I remind myself, shaking off the thought of having her forever.
She watches me from under her lashes, her eyes focused on my zipper and I think I see trepidation in her brown depths, but it’s gone before I know for sure what I saw. I let my dress slacks drop to the floor before reaching up to pull off my stupid tie and start unbuttoning my shirt. The girl, whose name I still don’t know, sits up, reaching behind her back to undo her own zipper. The shy look on her face disarms me, but then she pulls the straps down, revealing her plump breasts to my gaze.
I almost groan aloud. I knew they were going to be fantastic when I saw them in her dress, but seeing them in nothing but a strapless bra has my mouth watering with need. They swell over the edge, beckoning me to suck them, lick them… to bite them.
Watching her as she lies back, lifting her hips so she can shimmy the dress down over her hips so she can drop it on the floor has me frozen in place. Once she’s done that, she reaches up to undo the front clasp of her bra and I’m so impatient I rip the dress shirt over my head without undoing the rest of the buttons. Buttons fly across the room in every which way, but I don’t care. I have to fucking have this woman.
The bra drops, leaving her upturned breasts bare. Her pouty little nipples point up at me, and I accept their invitation. Crawling up her body, I bend to take one in my mouth, biting down gently at first, letting her get used to me. She doesn’t need to know just how dirty I can get, not yet. I don’t want to scare her off.
She collapses on the bed, her back arching into my touch and her nails scratching my shoulders when she wraps her arms around my neck to pull me closer. The scent of her body makes my head spin, or maybe
that’s from the amount of alcohol I’ve drank tonight, I can’t tell which one it is. Either way, I’m intoxicated by her. Switching my lips to her other breast, I lift my hand to pluck the nipple I was just rolling with my tongue.
She moans, and I smirk to myself. I don’t want it to feel lonely, after all.
Her hands drop from my shoulders to my waist, and she tries to pull me up so I’m on top of her. My boxer brief covered cock presses into her tiny satin panties, causing both of us to moan in pleasure. Knowing she wants this as badly as I do causes blood to roar in my ears. I want to be gentle with her, something inside me tells me to be, but I can’t. It’s not who I am. I fuck dirty, I fuck hard, and leave them writhing.
“Please,” she begs sweetly, and when my eyes come up to meet hers, I can see they’re hazy with lust. It makes me feel like a fucking God, knowing even drunk off my ass I can make her feel this good. There’s power associated with bringing women pleasure, and right now I’m the most powerful man on the planet.
I’m not about to make her beg any longer, not when I’m just as desperate to be inside her as she is to have me there. Shoving my boxers down to my knees, I grab hold of her teeny little panties and yank, the ripping sound more than satisfying. She’s looking up at me with wide eyes, like she can’t believe I just did that, and I smile down at her.
“Are you ready?” She nods, and I slide my fingers through her slit before pushing one finger deep inside her. “Fuck, you’re so damn tight, so fucking wet.” Her body clenches down on the thick digit inside her, and I know right then that I have to feel that around my cock right. Fucking. Now.
A whimper of displeasure falls from her lips when I pull my fingers from her tight channel, and part her legs. I wrap my fingers around the base of my cock, rubbing it along her cleft and coating myself in her wetness before notching my head at her entrance. I want to taste her, to lick her pussy until she begs for mercy, but all my blood has rushed to my cock and I can’t wait anymore.
All I can think about is claiming her, my cock slipping in and out of her until she’s screaming, panting, crying with need.
My first thrust inside her makes me lightheaded. Her body is squeezing my dick so tight. I’ve never felt like this during sex, and all thoughts of a one-night stand go out the window. I’m definitely going to need to do this more than once with her.
Her pussy is like a godsend. Warm and tight, tighter than any I’ve ever had.
As much as I want to pull back and slam into her again, the fact that she’s gone stiff makes me look down at her. Her face is pinched, brows furrowed and she’s biting her lip like she’s in pain. She must not have fucked a guy with a dick as big as mine, and damn if that doesn’t make my ego even larger.
My muscles clench, tightening as I hold myself above her. I want this memory to be a good one for her, I want her to remember the pleasure I gave her … not the pain.
I give her a few minutes to adjust, and once her body relaxes into the comforter I pull out halfway before thrusting back in. Her pussy is my heaven and I want to pray at her alter every fucking minute of the day.
It only takes her a few thrusts to start lifting her hips to meet mine, and knowing I’m not going to last very long, whiskey dick is not a problem I’m having tonight thanks to her, I lick my thumb and press it against her clit.
Her eyes roll back in her head when I find the right pressure and rhythm, and I can feel her body start to tighten around me even more. She was already strangling my cock, and the added pressure has my orgasm barreling down my spine. My toes curl into the mattress, and I start hammering into her with zero finesse.
Thank fucking God she comes right as I lose my grip on my control, and I let the pulsing of her body drain me dry.
Fuck. That’s the only word going through my head right now. This girl and her tight goddamn pussy have ruined me for any other woman. As I roll to one side, I vow to get her number before she leaves in the morning.
The combination of the amazing fucking sex along with the copious amounts of whiskey I drank tonight has my eyelids growing heavy.
Pulling her into my side, she curls up against me, resting her head on my shoulder and her arm across my waist, so I adjust her, putting my arm around her and pulling her tighter against me, making sure there isn’t even an inch of room between us. Only then do I close my eyes. I just need a short break … then we can start round two.
What I don’t expect is to wake up three hours later to find no trace of the woman from the bar. The only proof that she was here with me is the slight blood smear against the white sheets, which has me wondering a number of things.
Was she a virgin? She couldn’t have been, right? Did I hurt her somehow?
I can’t recall her being in pain, but then again my memories are a blur and I realize then I don’t know her name, I don’t know anything about her aside from the fact that she was celebrating a new job.
I’m so fucking screwed. I let the woman of my dreams walk right out the door, and all while I was fast a-fucking-sleep.
Chapter Three
Ava
When I wake up, Mr. Serious is wrapped around me, his legs tangled with mine and his erection against my ass. My body stiffens, and I pray he doesn’t stir. What was I thinking last night? Not only did I lose my virginity, I lost it to some random guy I met at a bar and let take me home. The potential danger I put myself in starts to sink in, and my panic mounts.
I need to get out of here. If I’m still here when he wakes up, he’ll kiss me, or touch me, or do something I’m not expecting that will cause me to lose all rational thought again.
Last night was amazing … it was more than amazing. In fact, I don’t think the word to describe what happened between us has been invented yet. As wonderful as it was though, I need space.
Meeting a guy is not on my radar right now. I’m starting a new job, graduating from college at the end of this semester, and I plan on doing something with my life. I refuse to be like so many other girls who lose sight of their dreams because they meet some guy and get swept off their feet.
Decision made, I slide slowly out from under his arm where it rests against my stomach, holding me tight against his body. I grimace at the loss of his body heat as I place the limb gently on the mattress. Mystery man doesn’t stir, and I say a silent prayer of thanks. Not that God is anywhere near me at this moment … at least I hope he isn’t.
I pause momentarily, taking in his peaceful face. His features are even more prominent in the early morning light, and now that I’m sober, I can appreciate just how attractive he is. At least I know it wasn’t the wine goggles talking.
His dark brown hair is at least two weeks past needing a haircut, and the smattering of hair on his jaw makes me want to rub my cheek against it to see if it’s soft, or bristly. It also makes me wonder what it would feel like against other, more sensitive, parts of my body, but before I allow such thoughts to take root I shut them down
Mr. Serious rolls over so he’s lying on his back, and when his arm moves I can see the muscles flex. A delicious warmth works through me. His body is cut, lean, with firm muscles everywhere that I can see, and the six-pack he’s sporting is enough to make my mouth water. My fingers itch with the need to touch him, to run my hands all over his body and map out every inch, but that would be an extremely bad idea.
As hard as it is to tear my eyes away from his body, I can’t help but be drawn to his mouth. His lips are full, and the cupid’s bow is one women everywhere must be jealous of. I sigh, remembering how those soft but firm lips felt against mine last night.
Forcing myself to move away from the bed is harder than I ever expected it to be and it takes more time than I’d like to gather my clothes and get dressed, my eyes never leaving my mystery man as I do. My heart is pounding so loud I don’t know how it’s not waking him up, but he still doesn’t move. In fact, if he wasn’t softly snoring I’d be worried he was awake, and secretly watching
me.
Once I’m ready, I head for the door, and even though I want to take one last look, to make sure I never forget what happened last night between us, I refuse.
The trip back to the apartment I share with my two best friends is quick. Luckily for me, there was a train station less than a half mile from his hotel and the train was pulling in just as I hit the platform.
It’s so early the car I’m in is practically empty, so I spread out across both seats and lean my head against the window, barely seeing the scenery as I think back on last night.
The way he possessed my body, and left me panting, and pleading for more. The way his hands, fingers, and cock painted a picture of pleasure on my body.
I shake my head driving the memory away. There’s something wrong with me, there has to be. I slept with a complete stranger. Good girls don’t do things like that.
Walking in the door, I freeze when I see Gabby sitting on the couch. “Uh, hey?” It comes out like a question, and her only response is a raised eyebrow.
“Hey? That’s all you have to say to me this morning?” She scoffs in disbelief. “I’m gonna need you to share some details, girl. There are things I need to know!”
Instead of answering, I head for my bedroom. Dissecting this with Gabby is the last thing I want to do this morning because doing so means I’ll have to tell her all the things I want to keep to myself. Right now they’re mine, and I don’t want to give them up.
“Was he big? Please say he was big?” Gabby beg, her big eyes pleading with me to let the secrets of our night out as she follows me into my room. My cheeks heat at the thought. Was he big? I would say so, but then again I’d never been with a man before.
I want to cover my face with my hands and hide from her nosy questions, but I know better. If I don’t answer, Gabby will just hound me until I do and then she’ll get Marie involved. Which is why it’s better to answer her now and get it over with.
