Page 113 of One Wrong Move

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I whisper. But please don’t stop.

Nate braces one of his feet behind him, firmly holding it against the door to keep the entry shut. His hands are warm and slightly rough over my thighs, sliding up to grip the thong I’m wearing. Slowly, he pulls the garment halfway down my thighs.

I gasp when his hand slips between my legs.

“Look at this pussy,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on my bareness. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt quite this exposed before. “You’re wet.”

I swallow hard. “Yes.”

He leans closer, like he intends to kiss me. There. But then, his shoulders tense, and he forces himself not to. Reaches for the toy instead.

“Spread your legs for me, baby… that’s it.” Then, his hand is there, stroking over my sensitive flesh before pressing the toy against my entrance. It slots into place, and the faint stretch makes me shiver.

“This will vibrate inside you,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles around my clit. His eyes on me, like he’s crafting a masterpiece. He fits the elongated piece to rest right over my clit, and I have to look down, at that pink silicon resting at the top of my slit.

He pulls my thong up, sealing it all in place.

The pressure against my clit is already delicious, the weight inside of me heavy and not entirely uncomfortable.

Nate pulls my dress down and rises, drawing me in for another kiss.

This one takes my breath away—there’s nothing controlled about it.

“I’ll handle the vibrations,” he says against my lips, “from my phone. No one will be able to hear them.”

“You’re sure?”

“Dead sure,” he mutters. “So, next time some movie star asks for your number, you’ll know exactly who will be making you almost orgasm in public.”

A shiver races down my arms. “You’re jealous again.”

“No,” he says, mouth trailing down my neck. “I know better than to be jealous of men like him. You don’t want him anyway.”

“No,” I breathe. “I don’t.”

Nate kisses the pulse on my neck before straightening. Takes my hand again, and pulls open the door. Bright light floods in, the sounds of music and voices, and we emerge back into a party for the rich and famous.

Releasing my hand, he wraps his right arm around my waist instead. Uses his left to unlock his phone. “This is for calling me old,” Nate says, and a second later, the toy begins to gently pulsate inside me… and against my clit. “Who says real men can’t vibrate?”

The shock of it nearly makes my steps falter.

But Nate is there, holding me, and urging me forward. His mouth by my ear. “There’s an investor here I need to talk to. Can you help me charm her and her husband?”

“I hate you,” I whisper. Sensations undulate through me with each soft vibration, surging with the memory of Nate’s lips on mine and his hands between my legs.

“I think that’s just the thing, baby. You don’t at all,” he says with a crooked smile. “Now come on. We’re going to have some fun.”

Nate

Watching the flush creep up Harper’s neck and up to her cheeks is more riveting than any blockbuster movie. Her hand grips mine tightly, like she wants me close for support. A tiny sound escapes her and her breath hitches slightly when I change the vibration pattern.

Fuck, but I’ve been half-hard since the closet, and there’s no sign that my condition will be abating.

Sliding that toy into place, seeing Harper’s glistening pussy in the dimness of the tiny room, and hearing her breathing hard and fast because of me…

“Yes,” Harper says. “I love that neighborhood. We live in Kensington, and it’s right nearby.” She’s talking to the husband of an investor I needed to schmooze tonight. Her voice is pleasant, calm. With just a hint of strain.

I reach into my pocket and adjust the intensity of the vibrations. Change the pattern to one of pulses.

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