by Gina Gordon
Without care, I swiped my hand behind her on the table. The components of the swag bags falling with crashes and thuds to the floor.
Fuck, yeah. We were going to do this. Right on this table.
She rarely wore pants, which made it even harder to keep my hands off her when she always provided such easy access to the parts of her body I wanted to get to know a lot better, and a lot more often.
So tonight was no exception when I placed my hands on the outside of her thighs, pulling the fabric up her body until I made my way to her center. With every inch closer, she whimpered. When I pressed my knee between her legs, she didn’t hesitate to use it, slipping her ass off the table until her core rested against me. She ground her body along my thigh, heavy moans and gasps seeping out of her mouth as I kissed my way up and down her neck.
When her head fell back, I knew she was close to getting herself off.
She began a steady motion along my jeans, the sheer nylons making it easier for her to slide up and down my leg.
I had always thought that rules were meant to be broken, which was why I’d never given myself any. But now that I had, the need to break them into a million pieces nagged at me. Maybe that’s why Max had been so successful. Why he was so happy. Despite having a good time, he gave himself limits. And now look at his life.
I had thought it would be easy to resist women for a while. But I knew this was more than just something I wanted. Somehow, I needed it. Needed her, and the connection between us. To my surprise, it was the only silver lining to the darkness I felt like I was sinking into.
Grace
I was rubbing myself against Ben like a madwoman. Like I had no other goal in life than to get off by using his leg to take me there.
And that’s exactly what I was going to do, because it was better than looking into his eyes. It was better than trying to pretend that he didn’t affect me, more than just sexually.
Ben wasn’t looking for anything more than sex between us. He lived perfectly in the moment, the past and the future somehow irrelevant when we were together. I had tried to fight my attraction, but no matter how much I distanced myself, no matter how hard I tried to be Jade, it was futile. I felt different when Ben looked at me. I felt whole, like somehow I’d been sewn together and was experiencing life for the very first time.
He bit my neck and my head fell back on a moan.
“Is that you begging for an orgasm?” He pulled his leg away just a tiny bit, and it forced me to lower my body, searching out the hardness of his thigh.
The lower I got, the more my hands and arms supported the weight of my body, but there was no way I was moving my hands from the damn table, thus ruining my chance for an orgasm.
“Is that what you want?” My words came out on a pant and I had to stifle a whimper. “For me to beg?”
“Maybe I do.” He teased me with his leg, pressing it up then pulling it away. “Maybe I just want to feel you fall apart in my arms. Maybe…I need you to take it from me because I promised myself I wouldn’t give it to you.”
“Then give me back your leg.” My heart thudded inside my chest and I knew that when this was all said and done, I’d have a permanent line etched across my palms from gripping the table so hard.
Hopefully I can avoid a permanent etch on my damn heart, too.
“I can’t do it alone.” My head shook of its own volition. “Not again.”
“Then take it.” He gave me his leg and I set to work.
At some point he’d leaned forward, hovering over me, kissing my neck and chest, my jaw, then finally my lips. But I was too focused on getting off.
Being in control of my own orgasm had always been my favorite way—and usually the only way—to find release. But this was different. Right now I wanted to give myself over to my pleasure. To him. To forget every other sexual moment in my history and start brand new.
I relinquished all coherent thought and canted my hips, letting my body take over.
My orgasm wasn’t gradual. It burst like fireworks, a sudden blast that started in my pelvis and exploded out, taking hold of every nerve ending.
My head fell back and my hands gave out, my torso now supported by my forearms as the rest of my body hung limp. I concentrated on my breathing, reveling in the tightness of my nipples and the satisfied throb between my legs.
“You’re going to do that again.” He grabbed my shoulders and propped me up, settling my ass on the table. “But next time…” His big hand pressed against my chest and pushed until my back hit the table, “…it’ll be with my mouth between your legs.”
I shivered, and before I knew it, he was on his knees, ripping at my nylons and pulling them away from my body. I gasped and thrust my hands in his hair as he continued to shred the sheer fabric. I felt the cool air on my core when the rip traveled up the seam to the waistband.
He blew cool air across my skin, my lower belly spasming with need, and when his mouth finally touched the folds of my sex I shivered, barely able to hold myself upright.
He licked slowly, tediously, making me sweat and ache with every swipe of his tongue. My legs quivered. My head shook from side to side. I felt like Jell-O, a jiggling mass of sensation.
He kissed up my stomach and our eyes met. My chest tightened and it took three tries to suck in a breath. His eyes on me were just as potent as his tongue on my clit.
I brushed my fingers through his hair and he nuzzled into my touch. After a long pause, he said, “You make me want to break every rule I’ve ever made.”
For a split second I felt bad that once again he’d broken his promise, but then I remembered how good my first orgasm had been. He was a big boy, and I knew just by looking into his eyes that he wanted this as much as I did. “Then why don’t you?”
He dove between my legs, tonguing my folds in a constant rhythm. So hard and precise I let his movements wash over me and followed them into the colorful abyss.
Chapter 11
Grace
The Concord Lounge had been transformed from a dark and mysterious bar into a lavish ballroom for the grand opening party of the Concord Hotel.
I’d had zero doubt that Everly could pull it off, but she had done an even better job than I had imagined.
The place was packed with local celebrities, media contacts, hospitality bigwigs, and, of course, several socialites. Playing off the history of the hotel, the theme was the roaring twenties, and from the moment I walked in, it had felt like I had traveled back in time to a speakeasy.
Barrels of what was supposed to be liquor had been placed around the room and the band played Arthur Miller from the stage, with flapper dancers two-stepping off to the side. Finger foods and drinks were provided by servers dressed in 1920’s retro wear—the items balancing on trays hung low at the hips, held by a strap that went around the servers’ neck, similar to cigarette girls. And by the entrance was the meet-and-greet table, with the five hundred swag bags.
It had taken four orgasms and until two in the morning, but Ben and I had finally managed to finish the swag bags, and in the nick of time. He’d delivered them this morning.
I no longer had much occasion to dress up, so I’d put a great deal of effort into my outfit tonight. My dress was an ode to the historic night—plain black satin with fringe around the bottom, which fell just above my knee. The back plunged in a V to just above my bottom. One wrong move and I’d be giving plumbers everywhere a run for their money.
Standing off to the side of the room, I sipped on a glass of champagne and watched the other guests. But my people watching was cut short when Everly raced over, grabbing my forearms in nervousness. “Are you sure the line wasn’t too long to get in? Should I be asking to—”
“Evs.” I did my best to calm her, placing my free hand on her forearm. “Everything is working perfectly.”
Even if it wasn’t perfect according to her plans, no one noticed. By the looks of the crowd, people were happy—laughing, drinking, and dancing. What mor
e could an event planner ask for?
“Everything does need to be perfect. This is Max’s chance to make a big splash, to get everyone talking. To…” She took a deep breath. “It needs to be perfect.”
“I know.” Everly had a small problem with perfection and living up to other people’s expectations. I had thought dropping out of law school would have done a lot to rectify that. Instead she’d just transferred the pressure of school onto this hotel. And it was beginning to worry me.
“Evs, this is Max’s job. His responsibility.” She nodded, but I knew my words weren’t penetrating her brilliant brain. “You can’t—”
“Jade?” At the sound of the familiar voice behind me, my spine went rigid and the few hors d’oeuvres I’d scoffed down with the champagne churned in my stomach.
Everly looked over my shoulder, a wide expression on her face. She knew as well as I did that the mention of my escort name was an unexpected turn of events—an unwanted turn of events. Her grip on my arms tightened as I looked over my shoulder, but I reassured her with a tiny smile. I wasn’t going to hide.
I knew exactly who was standing behind me. That voice was unmistakable. That voice had demanded my mouth many times. Demanded my obedience. But unlike the swell of desire that used to take over whenever we were together, right now I was trying too hard to keep the contents of my stomach from making an appearance on my shoes.
Johnnie New York. One of my former regular clients. He looked the same—suave and suited-up in gray pinstripes.
I knew I’d eventually encounter someone from my past, but I hadn’t expected it to happen twice in such a short period of time. My encounter with Scott at work had been far worse, but why did Johnnie have to show up tonight? Why here?
I liked John, had liked John. But I didn’t really know him, did I? I knew mere facets of his personality, because at the end of the day I was only there to please him. To keep him company while he had been in town on business.
“Jade.” He whispered my name this time, a knowing smile creeping across his face. “It’s so good to see you.”
I turned fully to face him, straightening my shoulders and pulling them back, feigning confidence. “What are you doing here?” There was no way to stop the words from blurting past my lips.
He shrugged. “I got an invite. I stayed here a couple of weeks ago. You would have known if you had—”
“Yes, well…” I cleared my throat, straightening my shoulders. “I’m doing other things.”
“I’m John.” He held out his hand to Everly. “I’m a…friend of Jade’s.”
“Johnnie New York,” Everly mumbled the words under her breath and caught my stare. When I confirmed it was in fact the same man we’d spoken about the day she’d asked me for advice on how to keep her relationship with Max strictly sexual, she nodded and held out her hand in reciprocation.
My heart raced, and suddenly the satin of my dress was stifling as sweat broke out across my body.
He made a move closer. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for months.” Immediately, I shrugged away from him. “If you’re not here with someone tonight, I would love to—”
“Is everything all right?”
I exhaled a shaky breath at the sound of Ben’s voice. My entire body softened when his hand pressed against the small of my back and I breathed, and for the first time since I heard John utter the name Jade, I took a deep breath. Ben was like a wave of sunshine blasting away the tension that had settled in my neck and shoulders.
“It seems I’m too late to ask for your company tonight, Jade.” John sipped his scotch. Most likely single malt and aged fifty years. I knew his drink. I knew his favorite movie. I knew exactly what he sounded like just before he was about to—
“I think you have the lady confused with someone else,” Ben said, his eyes burrowing a hole into John’s skull.
I wanted to cry—from happiness. He knew, without being asked, to shrug off my alter ego. To keep my secret even when it was sitting in the middle of the table, flashing lights and sparklers drawing everyone’s attention.
“Oh, no. I’m certain.” John’s air of confidence used to be appealing, but right now I wanted to smack the smugness off his face.
“I have to check on something so I’m just going to…” Everly slunk away. I didn’t blame her. I would if I could.
John brushed a finger down my bare arm, and I edged away, not liking the way his skin felt against mine. I hated the way his touch made me feel. Dirty.
“You should take my advice and keep your hands to yourself.” There was a ferocity to Ben’s voice, an angry growl I’d never heard before.
“Jade and I are good friends.”
“Somehow I don’t think that’s the case.” Ben looked in my direction, his eyes silently checking in with me.
My heart swelled. I’d had bodyguards watch over me, but I had never felt more safe than I did right now with Ben’s hand at the small of my back. Of all the people in the world to give me this feeling, it had to be Ben. Every encounter with a man I’d had over the last three years had made me feel like a prostitute—because I was one. But Ben never made me feel that way. He didn’t judge. He didn’t assume I was there to please him. He wanted to spend time with Grace. And that realization was more shocking than this encounter. Because Ben Lockwood wasn’t the man I wanted. Ben Lockwood lived his life in the messy, ambiguous gray, and I wanted to live in the perfectly outlined black and white.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with me tonight?” John asked, a darkness that I’d never seen before edging his pupils. There was a cock-measuring contest going on right in front of me, and I wasn’t sure who was going to win.
You know who you want to win.
Anger vibrated off Ben, sending my own nerve endings on high alert. His hand fisted at his side and it was only a matter of time before it made contact with something. And I’d most definitely rather it be a wall than John’s face.
“You need to watch yourself, buddy.” I grabbed his hand when he advanced, and pulled him away, wanting to escape the scene as fast as possible, before it escalated into something bigger, more humiliating.
“Who was that fucking guy?” Ben asked, pulling me to a stop in the middle of the room. I had hoped we’d make it out into the foyer of the hotel before he confronted me, but I was sorely wrong.
“John. He was…” I lowered my head. I couldn’t say the words.
Tonight was a reminder that I might never find my prince charming. I would in fact always be an escort, no matter how hard I tried to be normal. But when I looked up, acceptance and understanding stared back at me through Ben’s brown eyes. I didn’t have to say the words, because with him the past didn’t matter.
He reached out, raising my chin with the tip of his index finger. “I don’t want you anywhere near that guy.” Something dangerous washed over his face. Something that scared and excited me at the same time. “I don’t like him touching you.”
Funny how he didn’t want anyone touching me, but he didn’t want to touch me either. It was driving me crazy. “You seem to have that same problem.” I looked down, focusing on his hand that was locked around my bicep. “You’ve touched me more tonight than you have the two times we’ve—”
“Was he good?”
His question shocked me out of my own thoughts. Not to mention I didn’t want to talk about my clients with Ben, not ever.
He stepped closer, pressing his front to mine. The intensity of his eyes told me everything he was feeling. He was jealous. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t fucking hot. This possessiveness was a direct kick to my libido.
The rapid beat of my heart now had nothing to do with the nervousness of the encounter and everything to do with wanting Ben. I wasn’t naive enough to believe that the two sexual encounters we’d had over the last couple of weeks had amounted to any kind of relationship. I wasn’t looking for one anyway, but I had enjoyed every fleeting moment that Ben’s hands were on m
y body. Yet I wanted all of him. I didn’t think I could stand another half encounter.
His grip tightened on my bicep, his breath heavy and hot on my neck. “Did you like it?”
I wasn’t going to answer that, either. Besides, me liking it had never been a priority.
When I didn’t answer, he enveloped me, my body now flush against his as one hand gripped the top of my ass check and the other pressed flat against my back. As I looked around, it was as I had feared. We had drawn the attention of more than a few people sipping their cocktails, pretending to be deep in conversation, but I knew they were watching.
“The fact that you’re not answering forces me to come up with answers on my own, and I don’t like them.”
The silver lining to this conversation was that I was getting under his skin. Ben’s visible frustration was making this easier to remember that it was only a game. A means to an orgasm.
“I bet he didn’t make you forget how to put your panties on right.”
I had forgotten. That night at White Lace when he’d pressed his face between my legs…When it was all over, I was so deliriously content and satisfied that I had put my panties on backwards.
My head fell back on a gasp when he leaned in, his lips pressing against my neck. “I bet you didn’t scream his name like you did mine.”
We were definitely drawing attention now, but I wasn’t going to stop him. I didn’t want him to back away. In fact, I wanted him to get closer, growl louder, demand harder, because there was only one place this encounter was ending up. And if I had to play coy, if I had to use every female tool I had in my lady arsenal, I would. Because I wanted Ben to fuck me. I needed him to fuck me. More than I needed my next breath.
“That guy’s an asshole, Grace. Assholes don’t deserve to linger in your memory.”
I looked up into his eyes, a defiant set to my stare. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to fuck the memory of him right out of you.”
I sucked in a breath. The tension between us was now wound so tight I feared it would snap and my world would never be the same. Snapping meant giving in, and if I was going to go through with this, if I was going to get Ben in bed, I needed to remember to keep my distance—to keep my heart locked up. I couldn’t afford to let it fly free until I found my prince charming. I had already done enough damage to it myself. I couldn’t risk giving Ben the opportunity to crush it.
