He didn’t turn around. “They’re taking bets to see how long it takes.”
“How long what takes?”
“For us to leave.”
Okay then.
He stepped in a little closer. His eyes smouldered. “Did you still want to be frank?” His voice was like velvet.
“Depends,” I replied.
“Depends on what?”
“On how much you have wagered on us leaving right now. I mean, how much will you win if we leave right now as opposed to twenty minutes from now? I’m all for enterprise bargaining and helping a guy out. I hope you backed yourself.”
He chuckled, warm and throaty. “That’s very considerate of you. And out of interest, when we do leave here, where do you envisage us going?” He glanced at his friends then, giving me a wonderful view of his jaw and neck before turning back to me. “Should I tell them to wait up for me?”
I sipped my drink, trying to hide my smile. “I live just two minutes from here, so the walk won’t take long. But, that being said,” I hedged, locking eyes with him, “I can’t see us being done until morning.”
His smile became a grin, he threw back his drink and again pushed me against the counter, closer this time, so he could put his empty glass down. With his strong body against mine, he grunted softly, and the sound sent a shiver through me. Warmth pooled low in my belly.
“I’m ready when you are,” he murmured.
Fucking hell, I was so ready.
“Then let’s go.”
His friends laughed as we walked out, and I couldn’t even be pissed about it. So what if he’d come out tonight to pick up. So had I. It was my one and only mission tonight, and it had taken all of five minutes. From locking gazes with him across the room to walking out.
Five minutes, tops.
I liked that there was no small talk. There was no ‘come here often’ bullshit. Hell, I still didn’t even know his name.
This was just the means to an end. And this was going to be a very good end. I knew it already. He was confident, gorgeous, and well-built.
The size of those boots better not be a disappointment . . .
Okay, you know what? Don’t judge me. I said from the very beginning that I wanted a dicking.
A very thorough dicking.
It was the entire reason I went out.
I was ready for it. And so help me God, I wanted it. So fucking bad.
I swiped my key to get us into my apartment building, thumped the elevator button with the anticipation kicking in. We hadn’t spoken on the short walk over, and I was kinda glad. I didn’t want to ruin it. So far it was all mystery and heat. Small talk would have ruined the game.
I let us into my apartment and threw my keys onto the counter.
“Nice place,” he said. But he didn’t even look around, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed the view of the harbour out the window. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me.
I shucked out of my jacket and threw it over the back of the leather couch, and it was like I’d waved a red flag at a bull.
In three long strides, he crossed the floor and took my face in his hands and kissed me. He walked me backwards until I was pressed up against the back of the couch, his body against mine, his tongue in my mouth.
Hell. Fucking. Yes.
I let him kiss me, invade my mouth, press his hard cock against me. His boots were no exaggeration, let me tell you. My knees went weak with desire, with pleasure. I broke the kiss to breathe, to speak.
“Bedroom.”
He smiled, and when I took his hand, he followed me down the hall. In my room, I toed out of my shoes and began undoing my shirt as I walked over to the bedside table. I threw a bottle of lube and some condoms on the bed, and he was standing there, staring at me. Dark eyes, kiss-swollen lips, sex on fucking legs.
I undid another button on my shirt. “I want you to fuck me,” I said. “Thoroughly. For hours.”
The heat in his eyes darkened, his lips parted, his chest rose and fell. He kicked off his boots and pulled off his shirt, revealing his well-muscled and tanned torso.
Christ.
I managed to get out of my shirt before his hands were on me, skimming across all the bare skin he could touch. His mouth found mine and he pulled me in, rough, and so help me God, there was nothing I liked more than being manhandled in bed.
I pulled at the button and zip of his jeans and shoved my hand in to grip his cock.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed, stepping back so I could look down.
So not only was the size of his boots no lie whatsoever, but I was beginning to wonder if I’d bitten off more than I could chew. So to speak.
He was big.
He chuckled. “Still want it for hours?”
Motherfucker.
I managed to catch my breath. “God, yes.”
He gripped my face, none too softly. “I will make it good for you.” Then he crashed his mouth to mine, kissing me deep and hard until I melted against him.
He pushed my suit pants down and I took care of his jeans, and when we were finally naked, he walked me backwards until I hit my bed. He followed me onto the covers, kissing my neck, my ear, my mouth. He gripped my thigh and lifted my leg, then lowered his weight onto me.
Sweet mother of God.
His hands, his mouth, his body, his huge fucking cock . . . I was going to expire. I rolled my hips and tried to angle his bare cock closer to where I needed him.
He chuckled. “Impatient?”
“I need you to fuck me,” I said. I didn’t care how desperate I sounded. He was here for sex and I wanted it. Like I was going to die if he wasn’t inside me . . .
Chuckling, he kneeled and flipped me over like I was an inflatable sex toy. Hell yes. By the time I untangled my arms and legs, he slid a slick thumb across my arsehole and pressed it into me.
I breathed into the bedcovers. “Fuck.”
He leaned over me and whispered hot in my ear at the same time as he slipped in a second finger. “This what you want?”
I groaned. “Yessss.”
He kissed my shoulders, the back of my neck, behind my ear while he fucked me with his fingers for a long time. Long enough for me to start rocking back, searching for more. He chuckled and pulled his fingers out of me, leaving me slumped on the bed, writhing for it.
Bastard.
I heard him rip open a condom and the snap of the lube bottle lid, and then he was back with more lube and more fingers. “Need more,” I ground out.
Then he kneed my thighs apart and pressed the fat head of his cock against my hole. “Be careful what you wish for,” he murmured right before he sank into me.
Fuck.
Fuuuuuuck.
I groaned and cried out, gripping the bedcovers, trying to breathe through the breach of him . . . but he held my hips, pinning me with his huge cock, until he was all the way in.
All the fucking way.
“Oh god,” I cried.
He grunted in my ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“You’re so fucking big.”
His laugh rumbled in my ear and he bit down on my neck when he pulled out and pushed back in. He moaned, such a filthy sound, and before I knew it, I was moving with him. Rocking with him, lifting my hips and arching my back for him. Taking him over and over, and it felt so fucking good.
He took control of every move, of every thrust. He played my body like a harp, plucking at chords I didn’t know I had, playing the sweetest song I’d ever heard.