All pickup lines were.
But that was what we were playing tonight, and my skin was already tingling. Especially since this was a bar for coupling up—the duo at the end of the counter would be coupling upstairs soon, from the look of it.
The two gorgeous women in tight dresses couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The dark-skinned woman in red threaded her fingers through the blonde’s hair. The blonde leaned into the touch like she was luxuriating in it.
I wasn’t usually turned on by two women—that wasn’t my thing. But public shows of affection were my kink.
I tipped my forehead in their direction. “I’ll have what they’re having.”
Jake’s gaze followed mine, and he murmured appreciatively as he perused the two women. “Looks like they’re having each other.”
He rose, moved his stool closer to mine, then gestured to the bartender and pointed to the women. “We’ll have what they’re having.”
“Two martinis, coming right up,” the man said, and set to work.
Jake turned to me, his eyes eating me up. “So, are you from around here? Or just in town for the weekend?”
Time to improvise. “Passing through. I’m on my way to New York, and I stopped here for the weekend with friends.”
An eyebrow rose. “A girls’ weekend? Has it been good so far?”
I nibbled on the corner of my lip, shamelessly staring at him because I could. Because I fucking could. “It’s getting better. A lot better,” I said, taking my time to punctuate those last words with a pop of my lips, so my meaning was clear.
A groan emanated from his throat. “I’d say so too,” he rasped out as his eyes slid down to my cleavage, then back up to my face.
A ribbon of heat unfurled in me, spreading through my body, pulsing between my legs. Out of the corner of my eye, the two women moved closer to each other. The woman in red took the lead, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the blonde’s neck.
I went up in flames. “They’re going upstairs soon,” I said, unable to resist. My core ached. My desire shot sky-high. There was nothing that thrilled me more than strangers touching.
Until Jake set a hand on my thigh, and I trembled.
Oh, God.
This man.
He turned me on more.
He turned me inside out with pleasure.
Sliding his hand up my thigh, he shifted closer, his voice low and husky near my ear. “The blonde is about to be devoured. In a few minutes, she’ll be on the hotel sink, skirt hiked up, panties around her ankles, legs spread.”
The fire was stoked.
I shuddered, picturing that.
But I wasn’t picturing them.
I was seeing me on that hotel sink.
Me leaning against the mirror.
Me parting my legs.
For this sexy, dirty stranger.
“They don’t even know each other’s names,” I said.
“No names, no professions,” he said, his hand gliding higher up my thigh, closer, closer still.
I swallowed roughly. My throat was dry. “Just desire,” I whispered.
Under the bar, his hand traveled to my center, and he cupped me.
“Oh God,” I gasped, closing my eyes, giving in briefly to the enticing sensation of his hand where I wanted him. “That’s all they want. To make each other feel incredible,” I whispered.
His fingers dipped between my legs, against the denim, as he stroked me, arousing me further, sending me higher.
“You know what I think would feel incredible?”
“Tell me,” I said, practically panting.
He dipped his face to my neck, dusting his lips across my skin, his stubble sending sparks over me. “I’d like to take you to my room, strip you, and show you what I want to do to you with my tongue,” he said, flicking the tip of it along my neck.
My vision blurred.
I was on the edge already.
My panties were damp.
My skin sizzled.
This stranger knew how to wind me up.
“I want that,” I said, ready to beg for it.
He pressed a kiss to my neck as he cupped me again under the bar. “I bet you’d love spreading your legs for me. Showing me how wet you are. Letting me taste your sweetness.”
This was torture. Exquisite torture. I was dying for him. “I bet you’d love devouring me. I bet you want to fuck me with your tongue,” I said, giving as good as he gave.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“Here are your drinks.”
I snapped out of the moment when the bartender brought our martinis.
I looked at Jake, whose eyes blazed black with desire. I had no interest in drinking. I wanted to be drunk on him. He lifted a glass, knocked some back, tossed some bills on the bar, and said, “Come with me. I need to go down on you so fucking bad right now.”
In the elevator, he pushed me into a corner, his hands roaming over my chest, squeezing my breasts. “Do you have any idea how much I want to bury my face between your legs?”
“I’m getting an inkling,” I said playfully.
Jake was voracious in the bedroom, but he particularly seemed to love giving oral.
I couldn’t argue with that.
I’d dreamed about great oral sex.
I’d fantasized about it.
But I’d never had a man who ate me the way he did.
With absolute passion.
He’d gone down on me last night like I was dessert.
Like I was his decadent dessert, and he’d been craving me all day, all week, all year.
He kissed me like that now too. Like a man unhinged. He practically shook with lust. I swore I could smell it on him. His desire. His fervor.
It was utterly addictive.
When we got off the elevator, I didn’t ask when he’d booked the room.
I didn’t care.
All I cared about was getting naked for him.
Inside the room, he practically tore off my clothes. We were frenzied, fevered, stripping as we walked, leaving clothes strewn along the carpet. I yanked at his shirt, needing to see his chest, to drag my nails along the grooves of his abs.
He tugged at my jeans, unzipping them as we rushed to enact the scene we’d already mapped out.
When we reached the bathroom, I kicked off my heels, and in seconds flat, he’d pulled my jeans to my ankles, helping me step out of them.
He grunted, as if consumed with getting me naked.
I wanted to be consumed by him.
By his need.
By his intensity.
By his utter carnality.
When I was down to only panties, he tugged them off so quickly they still dangled on my right leg, and he didn’t care. He lifted me onto the sink, spread my legs, and kissed my pussy.
I saw stars.
I cried out from that first touch, that first lick.
He was on fire.
I stared down at him, his dark hair in my hands, his mouth on my wetness, his palms on my thighs.
He kissed and sucked and groaned.
Jake Hamilton might be pretending to be a stranger. But I knew what he was. It was so crystal clear.
Jake was an animal.
And I loved his hunger.
I adored his appetite.
I craved his ravenous need for me.
His hands curled around my legs as my undies finally slipped off. Naked, I scooted back on the vanity, my spine against the mirror, my fingers roped in his hair. He didn’t break contact with my pussy. His miraculous tongue was on a mission to please me, taunt me, fuck me.