Page 29 of Dirty Intentions

“No. Only once I heard your voice.”

“Good girl.”

A sharp tug and the sound of material ripping meant I was rid of my thong.

“I want you to watch the show while I fuck you.”

My eyes, which had been closed, focused back on the scene in front of me. The players had now moved to the bed where Philip had one woman riding him while the other literally sat on his face. “Shane.” I moaned his name when fingers entered me. I could hear the sound of a package being ripped open and soon after was practically lifted up when he entered me on one stroke.

“You’re tight. You’re not too sore, are you?” He hesitated, clearly waiting to thrust again.

Although I was a little tender, there was no way I was stopping now. “That ship has sailed. Fuck me.”

He gripped my hair and pulled out only to slam back in. “Like this? Tell me if this is too rough.”

“No, it’s not. God.” He set a furious pace and, as I started to build, he reached around to rub my clit. The orgasm hit me like a freight train. A string of unintelligible words ripped from my throat as the rush started at my toes and didn’t seem to be stopping. Because neither was Shane.

“I can’t,” I mumbled, losing any strength I’d had in bracing myself against the glass. Boneless, I allowed him to turn me around, lift me up, and push my entire back flush with the wall before entering me again. My hands gripped his powerful shoulders while my legs wrapped around him. If I’d had a brain cell to spare, I would’ve marveled at the fact he could hold me up as though I was nothing. But I was too lost in the pleasure to think.

“Yes. Right there.” He’d found the spot and increased the pace until I was coming spectacularly, raking my nails over his back while he buried himself deep and growled in my ear.

“Your pussy is like a vice grip demanding I come with you.”

“Mm. I quite like that.”

He walked me over to the couch and, after pulling out, let me down easy. I watched while he expertly removed the condom and tied it off. He put it into a small trash can over by the bar area to one side.

“You’re welcome to spend the night in your room here.”

“Are you spending it with me?” The question was part curious, part challenge.

He came over and helped me up, his arm banding around my waist, eyes on mine. “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“No. I suppose not. Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

And yet he didn’t move. Neither did I. The temptation to lean in to kiss him was so strong I swore he could actually read my mind because he stepped back. “I’ll walk you out.”

The gesture surprised me, but I was grateful he led the way down the stairs and out the employee entrance to the hotel lobby next door.

“What room are you in?”

I fished the card from my bag with the number on it. “It’s on the eleventh floor. Eleven fifteen.”

He didn’t hesitate to put his hand at the small of my back and lead me into the elevator, pressing my floor. I turned to him once the doors closed. “You don’t have to see me up.”

“I know.” His handsome poker face gave nothing away.

We walked down the hall in silence until we reached my number. I swiped my key and opened the door to a beautiful junior suite with my suitcase in the quaint seating area.

He came in and glanced around. “I hope everything is to your liking.”

I nodded. “It’s nice, although you didn’t have to spring for a suite.”

“It wasn’t me; it was Max.”

“Oh.” Awkward.

“So, uh, I’ll see you in the morning.” Suddenly, he appeared anxious to leave.

“Yep. I finished two years’ worth today and will start again tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure why I felt this was the moment to tell him what my work plan was, but it came out before I could help myself. Perhaps it was to serve as a reminder of why I was really here.

He moved towards the door. “Great. Uh. Merry Christmas.”

Yeah. Merry Christmas. It had certainly been a strange one.

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