Page 9 of Rushed

“Yer so wet fer me,” he mutters.

“Maybe I’m not wet for you. I haven’t even seen your face, after all. So at this point, my coming has nothing to do with you. I’m just enjoying the show.” Turning my head, pulling lightly on his chin, I bring his mouth down for a kiss. His mouth is soft, sensual, and gritty. His facial scruff is rough against my cheek, but his languid tongue feels superb. He lazily drags it across my lips, touching the edges of my teeth. The overload of his touch, his tongue, and his cock, rubbing against my hand is too much.

“Ah…” I make the smallest of noises as my release sneaks up on me. The feeling’s not unlike something I’ve done to myself countless times alone in the hotel, but with him, and the sights and sounds surrounding me, I’m in sensory overload.

“There. Now yer better.” He kisses the top of my head before pushing my dress back down.

I down my drink, suck on the lime and gather my thoughts. “I didn’t give you anything in return.”

“Oh, but ya did. This gorgeous woman just fell apart with just a little strokin’. Can ya imagine what I could do with my cock?” He kisses the back of my neck, and I almost fall back into his arms by the sound of his amazing voice. It’s roughly accented, Welsh sounding, like James McAvoy. Deep and lilting. It makes my toes curl in my cheap heels.

“What would it feel like inside ya? I’d be turnin’ ya inside out as ya came over, and over, and over.”

“A bit conceited, aren’t we? Wanna tell me your name?”

I can almost imagine it. His cock sliding back and forth, pushing me to the edges of insanity as he pumps harder and harder towards his own release. I think it would be fucking hot.

“Hardly anyone here knows my real name, and I don’t give it easily. But ya can call me Rush.” His arm snakes around me as he picks up his drink. I look at the tips of his wet fingers that were inside me just moments ago, before he sucks back his drink in one mouthful.

“You’re the bar owner?You’refriends with Troy? Did he tell you I was coming here?” I’m sure the surprise on my face is apparent. I say it so fast, I’m not sure it was coherent enough for him to understand. “Of course he did. You know about everyone.”

Turning around, I look him in the eyes, and almost come again. What a gorgeous fucking man. I knew he was tall when I rested my head against his chest, and I knew he was big when his man hands caressed my body, but good Lord, he’s a mountain. He looks down on me with a smirk as he takes in my gaze. He knows he’s fucking gorgeous. He’s bloody spectacular, and I couldn’t have picked a better male specimen if I’d made him in a petri dish. His chiseled jawline is straight out of a magazine. His hard cheekbones set off his deep dimples, and his rugged scruff that I felt earlier, is perfect in every way. I reach up and run my hand across his face, watching as he leans into my touch. Immediately, I pull my hand back. I may have come on his hand, but it doesn’t mean I have the right to stroke a stranger’s face.

“Yes, I own this bar, if that’s what ya wanna call it. Troy told me a lovely lady would be comin’ in, but I didn’t know it would be ya, love. Not until now. It’s nice to meet ya, Keenan.” I’m floored. No, I’m embarrassed. What an introduction.

“Does everyone get the same intro? Or was I offered a special one-time offer?”

“No.” His answer offers a finality. It’s not much of an answer, but I’ll assume the best intentions were meant. Staring at his face, taking in the blemishes and scars, all of it adds to his perfection. Stormy blue eyes, with lines coursing like white lightning within, all shines against the flashing strobe lights of the club. The strong edges look almost rimmed in coal, as they’re framed by long, dark eyelashes. His eyes are both masculine and trustworthy in appearance. God, what would his kids look like? What a fucking package. He’s like a much bigger brother to Ryan Reynolds; rugged sex with the ‘boy next door’ appeal.

“Would ya’ care for another drink, Keenan?” he asks, brushing a stray group of hairs from my face, just as one of the gargantuan bouncers approaches us. Quickly pulling his hand back, the bouncer dips his head close to Rush’s face and speaks in a soft tone. Immediately, Rush’s face turns from content to unpleasant before the bouncer turns and walks away.

“Sorry, we’ll have to take a rain check on that drink. I need to leave. Enjoy yer evenin’, and feel free to come back.” He turns to leave, but stops, walking back towards me with a tight gaze. “Here’s my rule for ya. No touchin’, Keenan,” he gruffly commands. “Remember, it’s my bar, and I’ll know if ya do.”

I stand there, stunned, as he walks away from me and towards the upper level stairs. I watch his near perfect ass tense with every step. God, that man left an impression on me.

He just mind fucked me, and I let him.

---