She closes her eyes, her breaths uneven for several seconds as she works to gain composure.
I lean forward, grazing her ear with my lips. I lick her there, sliding my lips down to where her two earrings are, that I lap at with my tongue. “I want you to lose control,” I whisper.
She looks at me, eyes dark with need. “There are people everywhere.”
“Trust me,” I tell her, kissing her and following the edge of her jaw back to her ear. “Lose yourself to me, Chloe.” I slip my fingers back into her, rubbing her clit with my thumb. She glances at me, a silent plea to let her come as I work her back to the edge of another orgasm.
She bites her lip, and I stop, her shoulders and thighs loosening instantly as her breath falls out in a disappointed rush. She reaches for her glass of champagne, drinking the remains in one drink.
“What do you want?” she asks, her eyes ablaze with annoyance and desire.
“I want to look at your face and know I’m fingering you. I want to see you lose composure.”
She starts to shake her head. “There are so many people here.”
I slide my fingers over her slick opening. “No one can see you. I wouldn’t let someone watch you come.”
Her eyes widen again as she stares out at the hundreds of private suites we can look out upon that can do the same to us. It takes her only a second to realize she can’t see their faces or expressions, only their outlines. “They can’t see you,” I confirm, moving inside of her again. “Only I can see you.”
She relaxes with a deep breath. Then begins to move her hips against my fingers. I reward her with a flick to her clit that has her dropping her head back against her seat. Then she reaches below the jacket with her right hand, grasping my left with her other hand, entwining our fingers as I finger fuck her, moving my thumb back to her clit as she rolls forward onto her toes, tilting her entrance higher.
“There you go, baby,” I tell her, kissing along her slackened jaw as she rocks against my hand, her breaths becoming uneven and ragged. Her hand presses harder against mine, and I oblige, kissing the soft spot below her ear. She moans, and I kiss her lips, swallowing the sound as I increase the pressure of my fingers, keeping the same rhythmic pace with my thumb as her breaths come so fast and hard she can’t kiss me back. Her thighs tremble, and her fingers clench around mine as she groans her release around my fingers, and I kiss her, silencing her cries as she comes undone.
20
Chloe
Blood is still rushing through my veins as I work to recover from my orgasm one hour and a glass of champagne later.
I want to regret it—consider what we did as wrong or bad— but try as I might, I can’t find even a trace of shame for allowing him to finger me. And it’s not just that he touched me there, here, it’s how erotic and leisurely and infuriatingly demanding he was all at the same time. I’m terrified to consider if I’d even hesitate if he asked me to hitch up my dress and get on the floor on my hands and knees.
And the way he continues to draw delicate patterns across my thigh is not helping me to think of anything else, even as the show continues. The music and acrobatics are beyond beautiful and shocking but pale in comparison to Tyler as he sits beside me, watching the show with a casualness that makes me almost want to scream. How is he not distracted? How is he not burning up from this inside out after that? Can I return the favor?
My thoughts are racing as the crowd roars its applause, and the lights slowly bloom. The cast moves to the front of the stage, bowing as the crowds stand from their seats.
Tyler is beside me, sending out a text as I try to recall details of the show so I can discuss them with Nessie and Coop so as not to reveal that I was distracted throughout nearly the entire production.
“They’re going to meet us at the car,” Ty says, putting his jacket back on and tracing the slit of my dress that goes down my back with his fingertips. I shiver. It’s ridiculous and embarrassing how quickly my body reacts to him—traitorous, in fact. I try to recall that night at the hotel when he jumped in the pool naked and was inches away from me. How I’d managed to ignore him and not react because I’ve seen him at parties, shirtless and smiling at me with innuendos and promises that I managed to avoid and act almost entirely unfazed from. Now, I’m so damn desperate for his touch I’m considering asking him to have sex with me here and now, with the lights already on and people milling around freely.
I’m pathetic.
Tyler stares at me, his chin tilted as he stops, placing his other hand at my waist. “Was that too much? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
I shake my head. “You just seem so neutral and unaffected. I can’t tell if I did something or didn’t do something or…”
His hand at my waist constricts. “No. God, no.” He shakes his head in rapid bursts, then he moves his hand from my back and wipes it down his face. He takes my hand and places it on his crotch so I feel his erection. “I don’t know what in the bloody hell happened for the past hour. I’ve been saying my ABC’s backwards and reciting the periodic table, trying to calm down and not rationalize begging you to leave with me to go back to the hotel.”
I lean forward too fast, clumsily kissing him as our chests bump. I brace myself by gripping his broad shoulders, feeling the stacks of muscles under his light blue dress shirt. His fingers delve into my hair, his palm cradling my face as he matches my need and desire, nipping at my bottom lip with his teeth and then tracing the minor wound with his tongue.
“Think Coop’s adjusted to us being together yet?” he asks.
I shake my head, knowing that request is impossible, and yet hoping like hell he will accept it. “I hope so.”
He chuckles at my contradiction, his lips so close to mine I can’t see it, but I feel the gentle rumble against my chest as I wind my arms tighter and kiss him again.
“That show was incredible,” Nessie gushes as I slide into the backseat with her and Cooper. “I have now added watching every one of their shows to my bucket list.”
“What did you think, Coop?” I ask him.
“It was good.”
His simple and blasé answer has me peering around Nessie to look at him because my best friend is rarely simple and never blasé unless it comes to shoes or fashion. “You didn’t like it?”
Nessie starts to giggle like a schoolgirl, throwing her head back as she leans into Cooper. “We barely watched it,” she admits. “I mean, we watched parts of it, but it was dark, and that show was so sexy, and we kind of turned our private room into the back of a movie theater and made out.”
Cooper rubs his fingers over his eyes, and I can sense his embarrassment before he looks at me apologetically. I understand his contradiction that’s visible in his expression so well; the happiness and sadness. The thrill and regret. The excitement and melancholy. Because as they move forward and grow, our friendship changes. Some changes are minor and others greater, and this is just the beginning. I know that like me, he’s wondering how many more changes will come with me dating Tyler.
We pull up to the hotel, where the valet opens our doors. Tyler climbs out of the car, his attention moving to me. “I need to grab a couple of reports. They’re going to renovate a portion of the gym, and I need to get approvals over before we leave in the morning. Coop, you want to check it out?” Ty asks.