Exquisitely Yours: A Sin City Tale

by M. Jay Granberry

  If I hit that number and call Momma, all holy hell is going to break loose.

  “Not your fight, Jess. Just let it play out. What does Momma always say…?”

  “A child who steals a needle will grow up to steal gold,” comes Daniel’s deep voice, and my…God. His appearance feels like a fantasy, like someone peeked directly into my dreams and witnessed firsthand every filthy thing I’ve imagined that mouth and those hands doing to me, and said, ‘Here you go, Jess. All yours. Just ripe for the picking.’

  If I had sense, common or otherwise, I’d get up and put as much distance as possible between me and this man because nothing good can come of the sultry humid air, and the flickering mostly melted candles, or the slight buzz of proximity.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I laugh, and the corners of his mouth pull up into an answering smile.

  Daniel pulls out a chair, collapsing into the seat. He’s all hair and long limbs and a flirty smile.

  “Just a little something my grandmother used to say.” He reaches for an unopened bottle of champagne in the middle of the table.

  “And should I know what that means?”

  I watch as he cuts the foil below the beveled glass lip, untwists the wire cage that keeps pressure on the cork, and with the experience of someone who has popped more than his fair share of bottles, twists the bottle instead of the cork, releasing a cascade of bubbles over the rim. Daniel hastily brings the bottle to his mouth, slurping the liquid.

  “Not at all,” he says around a mouth full of champagne. “Old Chinese proverb that I’ve been hearing for over thirty years. I know for a fact that I’ve never stolen a needle or gold. So maybe it’s a deterrent?”

  He shrugs his broad shoulders and extends the bottle. Our fingers brush when I take it from his hand. I raise it to my lips and take a sip, keeping my eyes on his. “And have you been deterred?”

  “What do you think?” He leans forward, snatching the bottle out of my grasp, giving me an impish grin that’s a little more knowing than mischievous, and I can’t help but return it.

  “I don’t imagine much out there deterring you.” Men like Daniel—uniquely charismatic, talented, famous, ridiculously handsome—have it easy. Willing women fall in their presence like how a naked Cleopatra was rolled out at the feet of Julius Caesar.

  He stares me down with suddenly serious eyes, far removed from his typically good-humored demeanor, and nowhere near the pain I saw when he was speaking to his brother.

  For maybe the second time since I met him, I catch a glimpse of the man behind the curtain. He’s not the clown he so often portrays himself as or the comic relief. He’s sharp. A thoughtful presentation of contrasts that tease my curiosity, pushing me to learn his secrets, to understand all the things that make him tick.

  Daniel takes a drink from the bottle, watching me all the while with an intensity that’s as unsettling as it’s arousing.

  “Why do you say that?” he asks leaning forward, his face no more than six inches from mine.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Not necessarily. I’m curious about your answer because where you’re concerned, I’ve been cockblocked, shut down, and scolded like a fucking toddler. All of which feel like a major deterrent.”

  “But here you are,” I whisper so low I’m not sure he hears me over the crash of waves.

  Daniel reaches up, tracing the thin strap of my dress over the exposed skin of my shoulder. “Here I am.”

  His gaze shifts to my mouth at the same time his head tilts and his other hand curls around my ponytail.

  “Daniel, we…” can’t. Shouldn’t. I’m not sure what excuse I was going to offer this time because his mouth on mine mutes the incessant voice of doubt at the back of my mind replacing it with one desire, one word.

  Please…please…please.

  Please, kiss me.

  Please, touch me.

  Please, don’t stop. Not yet. Not ever.

  He tastes effervescent like the champagne we just shared and the memories that I can’t forget, and God, I don’t want him to stop. Not this time.

  The first kiss rolls into a second and then a third. Each one adding a new sensation and more heat. It’s a subtle kind of seduction, a promise of more to come if only I let it.

  Contrary to the worrying what-ifs trickling through my conscious thoughts, my body responds, opening and inviting him in.

  Invitation received and accepted.

  This time his lips meet mine with a hard demand. It’s all tongue and teeth and moans that reverberate across my nerves and skin.

  And it feels so good.

  Daniel breaks the kiss, trailing lips down my neck, across my cheek, and up to my ear. “Come to my room.” His lips brush the sensitive skin beneath the lobe, sending shivers over my shoulders and down my back.

  “It’s not smart, or right, or in line with anyone else’s expectations.” He qualifies running fingertips along my hairline as glittering brown eyes search mine.

  For the first time in my life, I don’t think about the consequences.

  I let go of all expectations, my family’s and my own.

  “Let’s go to mine.”

  Chapter 17

  Jessica

  The sultry confidence I felt a couple of minutes ago when I invited Daniel to my room is dissipating with each step we take toward our destination.

  Nerves knot my stomach and, dammit, I feel gauche and naive, and very much like I’m barely treading water at the deep end. The man has had sex with beauty queens and socialites.

  And groupies.

  Not just any groupies but skanky rock star groupies that I bet screw like porn stars.

  No, prostitutes.

  He’s probably got down and dirty with parasitic prostitutes who have sex for a living and do freaky stuff like swing from shower rods or, in the words of the rapper Ludacris, ‘pussy pop on a handstand.’

  Something that I can say I have never done.

  Insecurity sinks in my belly, gnawing and ugly, making each step harder to take.

  You tried, Jess. But this man is so not for you. End it now before you embarrass him, or more importantly yourself.

  The door that was only narrowly open to the possibility of this moment slams shut and the hand loosely holding mine slips away. Daniel continues walking a couple of steps and I kind of stumble to a stop.

  “You okay?” Daniel asks. His gaze finding mine over his shoulder. Midnight eyes that are seemingly bottomless widen as he first takes in my stationary stance, then the growing distance between us, and what I can only assume is panic on my face.

  I open my mouth, but my voice has apparently gone the way of my feet and decided to stop working.

  It’s easy to get lost in Daniel’s dark eyes and soft lips. In the fingertips suddenly skimming the overheated skin of my face and lips. Maybe that’s why I melt into the warmth of his body and barely hesitate when he leans down, brushing my lips with the softest kiss.

  I pull my head back, breaking the contact. “I-I-I’m fine.” I stutter, taking an awkward step back. My feet a little wobbly in the stilettos. “Of course, I’m fine. I just…” I raise my shoulders in a frustrated shrug.

  “Why the nerves, Jessie J?” he asks in a voice so low it’s almost a whisper. My eyes flutter closed as the rough pad of his thumb slides over my bottom lip. “You like the way I bite.”

  He’s right. His bites are just one of the things I like about him.

  Tell him, Jess. Tell him that you’ve totally lost your lady balls and will be retiring to your room to jill off by your lonesome.

  “Daniel,” I start. “I’m not…” I take a shuddering breath and try again. “I don’t think this, you and me, and whatever we’re supposed to be doing, is a good idea.”

  “Agreed.” That word snaps my head up.

&nbs
p; I couldn’t have been that off base. Confused, I lift my eyes, searching the depths of his for an answer. It’s one thing for me to back out but something totally different for Daniel to. As stupid as it sounds, my feelings are…hurt. And my ego? Nope. Not going to say it, but damn.

  “It’s kinda crazy, right?” I say in a small voice with a forced smile.

  “Hmm. I’d say it’s the best kind of crazy,” Daniel whispers, leaning in. “And super risky, but something else tells me…” The cool edge of his nose drags up my cheek and his mouth hovers just above mine. “You’re worth the risk.”

  His mouth softly touches my lips. It’s a phantom kiss, more breath and air than skin and passion. It’s an unexpected intimacy that I feel instantly in my accelerated heart rate and tight nipples. In the tingling fingertips that want nothing more than to explore him in the same way he’s explored me. “Don’t think, Jessie. Fall.”

  For a second, the microscopic space between our lips is a chasm too wide to cross.

  Insecurity and self-doubt double down.

  The sinister message—I’m not hot enough, sexy enough, experienced enough—gets louder with each repetition. The idea that I can’t be anything more than a sad little notch on his massive bedpost. An embarrassed, sad little notch, especially when compared to all the others.

  My experience consists of scintillating missionary and barely achieved orgasms. Can’t really imagine that blowing his mind.

  “Stop thinking. Just…” His eyes close and he takes a deep inhale through his nose before saying in a strained voice, “Fall.”

  I hesitate. My nerves completely at war with my common sense.

  Daniel opens his eyes and probes mine for long seconds before he speaks. “I swear I’ll catch you.”

  Those words hit at the heart of my indecision, weirdly calming, and seductive, and apparently the thing that I needed to hear.

  Because I do it. I let go.

  My body sways and then topples forward, reclaiming the last inches of space I’d forced between us. He half grunts, half laughs under the force of my weight, but warm arms, strong and muscled, tighten around my back.

  His lips are still smiling when he gives me a stinging kiss. “Gotcha.”

  Chapter 18

  Jessica

  My room isn't far. We took thirty-six steps. I know because I counted.

  Tension, sexual and otherwise, make the salty air dense and hard to breathe, or maybe it’s Daniel and the excitement of expectation.

  Whatever it is has my hand shaking as I unlock the door.

  Daniel plants a wide palm on the surface, holding it open. The space between his body and the doorjamb is narrow. So much so that I feel the movement of his suit jacket against my chest as he exhales and his eyes are like a physical touch, brushing past my lips, skipping across my breasts, and landing on my behind as I move past.

  The room is dark except for the silver wash of moonlight pouring through the open sliding glass door. It’s like a giant spotlight trained on the king bed making it a focal point, the only thing I can really see.

  For the first time in our short acquaintance, Daniel is quiet.

  His body still.

  The larger-than-life personality that easily fills every corner of the largest room is contained. A percolation simmering just below the point of boiling. And I want it. All that steam, all that heat, the life-changing experience I’m certain is waiting on the other side of the oncoming eruption.

  I turn around and Daniel is cloaked in shadows until he steps forward, letting go of the door. My eyes jump to his as it clicks, closing us inside, together. For a long minute we just stand there, feel each other out.

  I’m not even sure I blink. What if I miss something? Like the way his eyes roam my face with intensity as he studies me.

  Not my body.

  Me.

  That look is weighted. A seductive glance that heats my skin and sends moisture pooling between my legs.

  Fascinated, I watch as Daniel first peels off his jacket, dropping it to the floor, and then pulls the rubber bands off the ends of his French braids, slowly unraveling the thick ropes of hair. He shakes his head, sending inky hair cascading over his shoulders and down his back with a sigh. The subtle scent of apple invades the air, making my fingers tingle with the desire to comb through the strands.

  Daniel breaks my gaze. His eyes taking a leisurely stroll down my body all but swallowing me whole.

  His lids flutter closed and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep inhale.

  The tension between us expands like a rubber band. Every charged look, every well-placed kiss, every ounce of anticipation pushing the elastic to its breaking point. “You sure, Jessie?” Daniel asks, slowly opening his eyes. “Because I…” the words dissipate into nothing and frustrated, he combs hands through his hair.

  “Finish the sentence,” I say, taking a tentative step forward, breaking the barriers of personal space and distance. I don’t stop until the tips of our shoes touch and my head drops back to maintain eye contact. “I need to be sure because what?”

  “Because…” Daniel curves a hand over the sharp line of his jaw. “We don’t have any more distractions, no interruptions. I need you to be sure because I won’t be sweet or gentle. This time if you give me the green light, I’m not stopping. Not until you’re messy and sweaty and begging me to make you come.” His tongue swipes at his bottom lip in what can only be called a filthy action and he looks up at the ceiling, taking a cleansing breath before dropping eyes back to mine. “Because right now I want more than the scent of your pussy. I want the flavor on my tongue pouring down my throat. I want you naked on the bed, watching me over your shoulder with that lovely ass presented in such a way that I see all of you—the untamed hole, and glistening lips, and that fucking pearl of a clit—that I’ve been thinking about since I had you needy and writhing underneath me what feels like a century ago.”

  I don’t know where I find the courage to reach for him. But I do. All the noise of self-doubt mutes. The only thing left is the pounding of my heartbeat and fingers that tremble when I curve a hand around the back of his neck and crush my mouth to his.

  We simultaneously moan—faint, shameless, and manic—as lips part and tongues meet in a frenzied caress. Daniel tastes like wedding champagne and dark promises, and his mouth on mine is hard, an unrelenting press that makes me feel a little wild and a lot crazy, and I can’t stop—can’t let go.

  I return his passion, his hunger, tenfold.

  Firm hands encircle my waist before sliding down the curve of my hips. I gasp when he palms my butt, one cheek in each hand, and lifts. My legs naturally part around his waist and our bodies collide in the most delicious way.

  There’s the heat of his chest pressing into mine, my hands twisting in all that glorious hair, and the hard weight of his erection against my center. It’s everything that I never knew I wanted, aggressive and reckless.

  So…intense. I feel it on an atomic level. Like the very molecules of my existence are shaken under the pressure of his passion and all it will take is one more—kiss, touch, taste—to cause a nuclear reaction.

  Daniel pulls his head back with a groan. “Fuck, I can already smell how wet you are,” he says, searching my eyes.

  The backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed and he sits down, situating my knees on either side of his thighs, bunching the skirt somewhere up around my middle. I hiss as the cool air hits the sensitive wet flesh and exposed panties.

  My hands land on rounded muscular shoulders, quickly fisting his shirt as open-mouth kisses move across the bones of my clavicle and down my sternum.

  I arch up as Daniel uses his chin to push the edge of my dress down just enough to expose the mounds of my breasts and he sucks hard, marking me.

  “Mmm… Take this off,” he demands almost desperately, fingering th
e straps of my dress. “I need you…naked.” He lets out an aggravated growl as he tries and fails at lowering the zipper. “There’s way too much material between your skin and mine.”

  Daniel starts to kiss my throat. His hands, thwarted by what’s been deemed unnecessary clothes, cup my breasts. The nimble fingers pinch and twists at my nipples until I’m nothing more than hot breaths and sensation.

  With my last clear thought I say, “Let me.” I try to laugh but it comes out rough even to my own ears. Reaching under my arm I draw the zipper down my rib cage. This time when he slides fingers under the straps they move, sliding up as he pulls the garment over my head.

  Fierce brown eyes sweep my body, starting with my face and moving down to the triangle of lace situated between my legs. “Fu-ck, Jessie. How did I know you’d be flawless?” He groans.

  I light up. My entire body vibrating at his words even as I utter, “I’m n-not—”

  “Shh. You are.” Daniel leans in, kissing the denial from my lips, and what starts as comfort quickly progresses to hunger. Teeth clinking, lip biting, gnawing hunger that demands to be satiated.

  “Flawless Jessie J. From all this golden-brown skin.” He kisses across my cheek up to my ear. “To this lacy black bra,” he mutters, nibbling on the edge of my ear. “And this teeny-tiny G-string that exposes more than it covers.” Daniel curves a finger under the fragile material riding low on my hips, snapping the string against my skin. His hand on my body is pale and large in comparison to the soft, even skin of my pelvis.

  He slides a hand up the center of my body until long fingers come to rest at the back of my neck and a gentle thumb strums the hammering pulse at the base of my throat. The other hand slides around my waist, anchoring me to this spot, to him.

  Daniel latches onto my gaze, searching and focused. “God, I love your eyes. They’re beautiful.” His fingers flex on my hip as he leans in for a slow kiss. “And just so…damn expressive,” he breathes against my lips.

  This close, his words have feeling, the solid weight of intent that reaffirms this choice.