Oh, I like the way her mind works. She knows her worth.
My fingers wander across her stomach, making playful circles as I answer. “I bet you’d like to do something a little competitive, a little showy.”
Her eyebrows rise. “I’m showy? You think I’m showy?”
“I sure do, and I think it’s sexy as hell. Now, let me finish, woman.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine. Finish.”
I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought. “I could take you out bowling, ballroom dancing, or to play my second-favorite sport.”
“Sex is your second-favorite sport?” She bats her lashes ever so innocently.
I toss my head back, laughing. “Sweetheart, sex is not a sport. For it to be a sport, it would require rules, regulations, and competition. And sex should never be a competition.”
“What is it, then?”
I don’t answer right away, but shoot her a sly, knowing grin. Then I speak the truth from the bottom of my heart . . . and cock. “Sex is a devotion, ideally to the woman’s pleasure.”
She murmurs her approval. “Ultimate Charmer. That’s you.”
“I will wear that title with pride. Now, as I was saying, my second-favorite sport. Want to know what that is?”
“You know I do.”
“It’s only one letter different from the one I play for a living . . .” I trail off, eager to see how quickly she’ll figure it out.
She furrows her brow, and then one, two seconds, later, her eyes pop. “Foosball! I love foosball.” She pokes my chest. “Bowling and foosball, pretty please. Then . . . devotion,” she says, all low and seductive, like a phone sex operator.
“Tuesday night, Katie. It is on.” I haul her in for another hot, passionate kiss, and we seal our plans for the best kind of date. I swallow her sighs, devouring her sounds.
Maybe I’m a player. Maybe I came here tonight with my one-track mind on a mission. And yes, I desperately want to get Katie naked and writhing under me, but I’m also having a fantastic time talking to her.
I’ve got a feeling with her, one I’ve never had before.
A feeling that there’s something brewing.
Something that sparks with fresh and daring possibilities.
But tonight, the clock is ticking, so I break the kiss. “When do you need to go, sweetheart?”
She reaches for her purse from the wall, clicks it open, and takes out her phone. “I should leave in fifteen minutes.” Her blue irises flicker with mischief. “You know, there’s a lot we can do in fifteen minutes.”
How did I get so lucky and this woman so amazing?
I must have been a very good boy in a past life.
5
Harlan
One minute later, we’re in the bathroom.
It’s one of those classy hotel bathrooms. Only one stall, with its own tiny lounge area with a carpet and mirror. Katie closes the door with a quiet snick, then locks it, pressing a finger to her lips. “Shhh.”
“Not sure I can be quiet,” I tease, as she sets her purse on the counter.
“You better be, Harlan,” she whispers. “If word gets out that you’re the one getting blown at the sports reporter’s wedding . . .”
Yup. Past me was clearly a choirboy. An angel, even.
But hold on.
“Wait. What if I want to make you see stars?” That’s my playbook. Give a woman pleasure. Then do it again, and again, and again. A man shouldn’t even think about coming until she’s ridden to the moon and back three times. Minimum.
That’s just polite.
“You can save that for Tuesday, big guy.” There’s nothing unclear about her intention when she undoes my belt, wiggles a brow, and licks her lips lasciviously. “I know what I like. And when I felt you press this fantastic hard-on against me earlier, I kept imagining what you’d taste like. Will that work for you?”
My brain goes haywire.
Yup.
Officially, it’s one hundred percent nuts up there. All the circuits are frying, all the lights flashing and the sparks flying.
“But I want to make you feel good,” I say.
Only, it’s a feeble protest because, holy hell—I don’t think it’s in my DNA to turn down a blow job from a gorgeous woman, no matter how badly I want to give her O after O. Not after she unzips my slacks, then sinks to the floor. “Well. Happy Thursday to me, then.”
“That’s the idea.” The blonde beauty gazes up at me with sex in her eyes and dirty deeds on her parted lips.
“Oh, sweetheart. You look so fucking good on your knees.”
“I feel good on my knees too,” she says, tugging down my black boxer briefs. My cock springs free.
Katie’s eyes pop like she just got everything she wanted for her birthday. I’m certainly glad she seems to think so, because I’d like her to gift wrap my dick with her mouth, lips, and tongue.
“Mmmm. You’re like hard candy.” She wraps a soft hand around the base. A quick burst of pleasure pulses through my body as she squeezes and strokes.
“I hope you like your candy good and long,” I tell her.
“Very, very long,” she says, pumping my cock in her fist, wasting no time.
She dips her face to my dick and sucks the head between her lips. My blood surges. My fingers weave through her silky blonde hair while she flicks her tongue along my dick and pulls me deeper into her decadent mouth.
“Can it be Tuesday right now? Because I want this again,” I whisper, my voice already rough with lust.
My legs shake as Katie smiles wickedly up at me, the wild look in her eyes saying she wants this as much as I do.
That she relishes giving.
It’s official. I have met my match.
“Your mouth is incredible,” I murmur, electricity crackling along my nerve endings.
The sight before me is out of this world.
Sure, I left my home tonight a hopeful motherfucker, but I didn’t imagine a beautiful, fun, feisty woman would haul me into a bathroom and take me to town with her throat.
This is one helluva night, even for a guy who likes to have his fun.
And that’s me.
I’m the player.
The good-time guy.
I don’t lie, I don’t lead women on, and I don’t hide where I stand. And right now, I’m standing with my pants at my thighs while the most captivating woman I’ve met in ages worships my dick and blows my mind too.
And yet I’m also pretty sure something new is happening. Already, I’m positive I want more than one date with her.
Maybe even more than a handful.
With Katie, I could maybe see many wild nights like this, nights when I’m not a player at all. But as she flicks her tongue along my shaft, I lose my focus on the future. I am only interested in the here and now. “Fuck, yes. Won’t take me long, sweetheart,” I rasp out.
In a second, she sucks harder, deeper, with the fervor of a zealot.
I succumb to the build. To the bliss barreling down my body. The delicious swirl of an orgasm that’s not far off.
But the gentleman hasn’t left the building entirely. “Just want to warn you. In case you don’t want to swallow,” I mutter.