by Kendall Ryan
“My mum’s been asking about you.”
“Me?”
He nods. “She wants to know when we’re all getting together to watch Indiana Jones.”
I chuckle. “That would be fun. I wonder if we can find a theater that plays old movies.”
He rubs his chin. “That’s a good idea. I was thinking I’d have to buy it on DVD or something.”
“Soon you’ll have enough money to buy your own theater and show whatever kind of movies you want.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. He gives me a sad look that says part of him wishes this money never came into his life at all.
“I never got to thank you for taking me to meet her. She’s a sweetheart,” I say.
“I think she liked visiting with you more than she did me.” Sterling takes a sip of wine, watching me over the rim of his glass.
The slice of chocolate cake we ordered is delivered with a dollop of fluffy cream and curls of dark-chocolate shavings.
“Oh God, this looks amazing.” Tentatively, I pick up my spoon.
“Dig in, love.”
I groan. “I’ve been so good about going to the gym lately. This is not going to end well for me.”
“Fuck that. I told you; I like a woman with curves.” He takes a big bite, his mouth moving over the spoon in a distracting way.
I flash him a challenging smirk. “So you’re saying I’m curvy.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t turn this into a bad thing. I’m saying you’re perfection. Every man’s wet dream. So eat the fucking cake with me, yeah?”
I laugh, despite myself. “Yeah.” Like I can resist, anyway.
We dig in, and soon we’re back to the lighthearted teasing conversations that I feel like I have only with Sterling. It feels good, and so normal and easy between us.
One bite turns into four, and then before I know it, I’ve licked the last of the frosting from the back of my spoon.
“That was amazing.” I wipe the corners of my mouth with my napkin and place it on the table beside the empty plates.
“Thank you for coming tonight. For dinner, for everything.”
“Excuse me for just a second,” I say, rising to my feet.
Two glasses of wine and an ice water, and my bladder is yelling at me, despite the fact that I don’t want to miss a second of being with Sterling. Somewhere deep inside, I know this is my last night with him.
Once I’m locked inside the bathroom stall, I release a long sigh. I hate that we’re coming to the end of the evening. Hate even more that tomorrow, I’ll be forced at last to play matchmaker and set him up with another woman. Part of me wishes I could stay at that table, laughing and drinking wine with him, and just be in his presence forever.
In the bathroom mirror, I can’t help but notice the reflection looking back at me is somber. Yes, my hair is still blown out into silky waves, and my makeup is still on point, but I can see it in my eyes. There’s a deep sadness there threatening to break down.
But I won’t cry now. I take a deep breath and drop my tube of lipstick back inside my purse.
When I finish inside the ladies’ room, I find Sterling standing in the hallway waiting for me, and I stop suddenly. His presence is dominant, sexy, and the look in his eyes is untamed lust. A dark shiver of need races through me.
He stalks closer and places one hand against my lower back. It’s impossible to hold on to the sliver of control I’ve clung to all evening.
“I’m not ready to say good night, and I don’t think you are either.”
I blink up at him, intoxicated with desire and momentarily speechless. “What are you saying?”
“Come with me,” he says, his voice just a rough growl.
I’m not sure if it’s a question or a statement, but without hesitating, I place my hand in his. And then we’re heading toward the elevators as quickly as our feet will carry us.
He stabs the button for the fifteenth floor as anticipation races through me. He must have gotten a room for the night when I went to the restroom. Awfully ballsy of him. How he had time to pay our bill and reserve a hotel room, I’m not sure.
The elevator doors slip closed, and then we’re alone in the small space, my pulse humming. My brain is screaming at me to abort this idiotic mission. There’s no way I can be alone with Sterling Quinn in a hotel room and resist doing something naked and slippery.
“You look worried,” he says, sliding up beside me. His fingertips are on my chin, lifting my mouth to his for a soft kiss. “Don’t be.”
His whisper of breath over my lips is so soft and tender, I want to melt into his arms.
After another tender kiss, the elevator stops. When the doors open, Sterling presses one hand against my lower back and guides me down the hall.
We’ve been building toward this very moment since the first meeting we had at that sexy, swanky restaurant. It suddenly occurs to me—maybe he’s wanted this all along.
But why? Am I a distraction from his looming wedding? Or is he as attracted to me as I am to him? And more importantly, is that where this all ends—with physical attraction—and once the itch is scratched, we’ll each move on with our lives?
That’s the most likely scenario; even my lust-and-wine-soaked brain knows that.
And still, I want this. I close my eyes and make a silent promise to myself. Whatever happens tonight, I vow not to regret it in the morning.
The hotel room is simple, yet elegant. Sterling flips on a lamp, and while I check out the view from the balcony, he excuses himself to the restroom.
I hear the water running, and unsure what else to do with myself, I go to the minibar and grab two glasses. I screw off the top of a miniature bottle of whiskey and dump half of it in each glass, startling slightly as the low rumble of his voice comes from behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“Just a nightcap,” I say, raising one glass to him. The truth is, I need something for my nerves. My hands are shaky and my stomach is in knots.
We clink glasses and each take a sip.
Fuck. That burns. I must make a grimace, because Sterling looks at me with sympathy, then takes my glass and sets it on the dresser.
“Come here.” His mouth lowers to mine, and his hands slide into my hair.
All the tension, all the worry I had slips away. I forgot what an amazing kisser this man is. He tastes of whiskey and sin, and I want more.
He breaks away too quickly, watching my eyes like he’s looking to be sure I want this. I give him a small nod. Taking my hand, Sterling leads me to the bed.
We kiss like that for a long time, our backs against the headboard, his hands on my jaw, our mouths fused together like we’re both afraid if we stop, the spell will be broken and we’ll have to go back to our real lives. In real life there are sick moms and medical bills, credit-card drama, and obligations a mile long. But here, now, there’s only his warm mouth devouring mine in a hungry frenzy. I can taste the smoky flavor of the whiskey lingering on his tongue.
Pressure builds inside as the ache between my legs intensifies. I grip his biceps, loving the solid feel of him beneath my fingers. Corded muscle and broad shoulders, his body is built for sex.
He touches between my legs, lightly at first, and meets my gaze. Within seconds, my eyes slip closed, and my legs part further in silent permission. He moves his hand under my dress and begins rubbing over my tights while I writhe on the bed, wanting so much more. He places my hand on his cock, showing me that he wants me to touch him too. I wrap my fingers around the solid mass, loving the grunt that rips from his chest as I squeeze.
Deepening our connection, he positions us so we’re lying side by side. His fingers push past my tights and slip into my underwear. I follow suit, shoving my hand into his pants to find him hard, hot, and ready.
If there’s one area he excels in, it’s foreplay. There’s nothing about this that’s rushed. We’re still just kissing, our hands roamin
g as the moment builds.
Sterling is applying just the right amount of pressure, right where I need him, and I break from his kiss to tell him.
“More . . .” I beg.
“I need to taste that sweet cunt again, love.” He kisses my lips. “Are you going to come on my tongue again?”
A low moan is the only answer I can give him.
He takes off my dress, and I expect my bra and tights will be next, but he surprises me by pushing my hips backward so I fall onto the bed. The look in his eyes is domineering, almost predatory, as he places his hands on either side of me and leans over my body. Pressing wet kisses on my throat, my chest, my belly, he continues moving lower until I can feel his hot breath ghosting over my center.
Then there’s a tug and a ripping sound, and I open my eyes to find he’s torn my tights apart, right there, so my pussy is exposed to his hot mouth.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss three inches north of where I really need him.
I rock forward, unable to stop my body’s shameless need to get closer. I remember all too well what that tongue can do.
With his hands on my thighs, holding them apart, he gives me a flirty wink before lowering his mouth.
“Oh God . . .” My fingers thread through his hair, and I’m lost.
His tongue moves in long upstrokes over the entire center of me, and my body shudders. A few more practiced licks and I’m panting with anticipation. I know he’s teasing me, toying with me before he begins working me over in earnest.
And then he sets the perfect steady rhythm, a nice medium pace with none of that weird tongue-stabbing thing guys normally do down there, or quick slashes that do nothing but frustrate.
He takes his time. He gets to know what I like. He pays attention to the sounds I make, and adjusts his movements and pace accordingly. Sterling Quinn is a fucking sex god.
He pauses for just a second to give me a pillow, propping me up and telling me to watch, which I totally wasn’t expecting. But holy shit, it’s hot watching him pleasure me.
With his tongue sliding over my sensitive flesh, his eyes open and lock right on mine. Watching him is so intimate, so raw, I suppress a warm shudder. Then he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks softly, but with enough firm pressure that my hips raise up off the bed.
It’s obvious he enjoys what he’s doing, and there’s something incredibly sexy about that. He gives the impression that he could do this for hours and be perfectly satisfied.
Now that I’ve experienced Sterling’s brand of selfless love, I don’t know how anyone else will ever compare.
Blinding pleasure builds, and I soar higher and higher. Sterling’s pressure and speed increase until I can’t take it anymore. A powerful orgasm rips through my body, hurling me over the edge.
I practically have to pry his head off of my crotch afterward. His tongue continues gentle licks, but it’s way too much for me to handle, being overly sensitive from my orgasm.
“Sterling . . .” I grunt, pulling his hair.
He comes up for air, chuckling at me and with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Fuck, you taste good.”
While I recover, my chest heaving, Sterling rises and strips off his shirt overhead, and then lowers his pants and boxer briefs, discarding it all in a pile on the floor.
This time it’s me giving him a playful shove back on the bed, wanting to show him the same pleasure he brought me. Still reeling and breathless, I lift his heavy cock from where it rests on his belly and give it a slow, wet kiss.
A deep groan of satisfaction rises up his throat. “Wait.”
I pause, the head of him at my lips. “What’s wrong?”
Chapter Thirty
Sterling
Her mouth feels incredible, and I don’t want to pull away, but I know I need to. With my heart thundering in my chest, I pull a deep breath into my lungs and prop my elbows up on the bed.
“Wait.”
Camryn pauses, the tip of my cock poised right at her sweet lips. The sight is so fucking pretty, I want to weep. This beautiful girl, in her ruined tights with her cheeks rosy from the release I just delivered, is ready to pleasure me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I’m slightly breathless and a whole lot turned on, but I don’t want head because she feels obligated to perform. I respect her too much for that. Everything tonight is on her terms.
“You don’t have to do this just because I did.”
Her mouth lifts in a smile. “I know that. Now lie back and enjoy, big boy.” Her tongue laves over the head of me in one broad stroke, and my eyes sink closed.
“Fuck,” I growl, pushing my hands into her hair.
“You like that?” she says, teasing me, her tongue flicking over me seductively.
“Very much.” I know for a fact I haven’t been good enough to deserve this kind of treatment. She’s damn well spoiling me. “Take me deeper, love.”
She obeys, opening wide and sliding her lips all the way down my shaft.
“Cami . . .” I groan, thrusting my hips up to meet her on the downstroke.
Propped up, I watch every movement she makes, licking and sucking. Occasionally, she’s brave enough to open her eyes to meet mine for a moment before those mesmerizing green eyes sink closed again. She makes little sighs of bliss as if the act of pleasuring me brings her pleasure.
I don’t know what I did to convince her to spend the night with me, but I feel like the luckiest bastard alive. All throughout dinner, I kept thinking this can’t be it. This can’t be the end for us, no matter what happens tomorrow. But I won’t think about that right now. Because Cami’s head is in my lap, my cock buried deep in her throat, and I’ve never felt so fucking good in my entire life.
She continues moving up and down, and my release starts to build.
“Love.” Using three fingers under her chin, I lift her mouth. My cock slides out between her lips with a soft sucking noise, and I groan at the loss of suction. “I need all of you tonight.” My voice comes out in a ragged pant as I watch her expression change from one filled with lust to one of deep contemplation.
I would give just about anything to know what she’s thinking.
Chapter Thirty-One
Camryn
“I need all of you tonight,” Sterling says, gazing at me with an almost pained expression.
The desperate edge to his voice doesn’t help. I’m hanging by a thread, ready to give him everything and more. I’ve left my dignity along with my discarded dress on the floor, and I’m ready to enjoy every moment of our night together. As painful as the thought is, it could be our last.
Sterling rises from the bed and pulls me to my feet. Standing before me, he drops to his knees and peels my ripped tights slowly down over my hips, then my thighs, kissing each inch of skin he exposes. His mouth lingers on my belly, just above my mound. I want his lips lower, but I know he’s done teasing me. He’s ready for all of me, he said. I can see the look of desire in his dark gaze. This man is desperate to be inside me, and the thought is intoxicating.
And now that I’ve seen the most perfect cock up close and personal, I want all of him too.
He continues pulling my tights down ever so slowly, over my calves and then over the arch of each foot as I grip his shoulders for balance. With one last kiss to the spot just above my pussy that makes me shiver, he rises to his feet, taking my hand to lead me to the bed.
All of this is new, so I have no idea what to expect, but one thing is certain. He’s very much in charge. He sits and leans against the headboard, then pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him, my knees on the bed on either side of his muscular thighs.
Then both of his arms wrap around my lower back, holding me tight as he kisses my lips and throat, my nipples grazing the firm plains of his chest. He grips so tightly, as if this is a last, fragile attempt to hold on to me. The only way he can truly hold on to me, to what we’ve started to build, is if he calls off
the event tomorrow, but something deep inside me knows he won’t do that.
I reach between us, lightly stroking his thick length up and down, loving the pleased sound he makes low in his throat.
Looking down between us, I frown. “I don’t know if you’ll fit. It’s been a while, and you’re, well . . .” Massive.
A deeply satisfied smile tugs up his lips. “Oh, it’ll fit, love. I’ll make sure of that.”
His confidence is sexy. Of course it will fit; I just wanted him to know I needed him to go slow at the start.
“Are you ready for this?”
Drugged with lust, I bring the blunt head of him to the juncture between my legs, letting him feel how wet and ready I am. He inhales sharply and grips my ass cheeks in both hands.
We both sigh with pleasure as he finally penetrates me, ever so slowly.
I grip his shoulders, and we kiss deeply as I slide all the way down. The intense stretch of pleasure is almost too much, and I can’t help the cry he pulls from my lips.
“Christ, woman,” he grunts out once he’s fully seated. “You feel fucking amazing.”
“So do you,” I murmur, my lips on his throat.
“Ready for more?”
I nod, surrendering myself to the moment, to him.
Gripping my ass in his palms, Sterling lifts and lowers me over him, slowly at first, but then with a growing urgency.
Each time we come together fully, I moan at the overwhelming sensation of fullness. In this position, we’re eye to eye, making this moment all the more intimate. It’s almost too much—our gazes meeting in the dimly lit room, our mouths seeking each other, our hearts beating together.
His pace is so steady and hypnotic, I turn myself over to the desire racing through my veins.
“Ride my dick, baby. Show me how you like it.” He laces his fingers behind his head, giving me a challenging smirk.
It’s amazing how he can go from sensual, to dirty-talking, to playful, and I love seeing all the sides of him. I don’t want this moment to end; it’s like magic.
Swallowing a wave of nerves over whether I can perform to his expectations, I place my hands on his shoulders and begin to rock back and forth in his lap.
