Page 75 of Fool Me Once

“I’d ask you for your name, but I think you know I’m aware of who you are.”

Once she shakes my hand, she drops hers down and pulls the toothpick with the cherries from my drink—the drink I ordered upon her instructions—and pulls them into her mouth, one by one.

“I’d know a hotshot NHL player like you anywhere,Mr. Smith Sawyer.”

Something about the woman I love stroking my ego has me wishing it were my cock she was stroking instead. Soon, it will be.

“What’s a woman like you doing in a club all by yourself?”

I watch her roll the last cherry between her lips, and my cock is painfully hard.

Not long ago, she told me that she’d fantasized about playing the role of a lady of the night, randomly meeting me and pretending like we didn’t know each other before submitting to me and doing whatever I wanted. I wasn’t entirely sold on the idea. It meant fake cheating on her, and even though it would be fake cheatingwithher, it made me feel kind of sleazy.

But then my cock took over, and I thought with my other head, dreaming about the possibilities of what I could do with her.

Even though things are better than ever, my mind still puts a block up sometimes, worrying I’m being too rough after all she’s been through. That was her reasoning for wanting this too; she said she could feel me holding back, but that maybe, if I imagined she was someone else—someone whose past I knew nothing about—I’d let go and take it further.

When she tilts her head to the side, her eyes dancing with amusement, I slide my hand to her bare thigh.

“Just looking for my next victim, I guess.”

She takes the straw and fills it with liquor, keeping her finger over the opening before bringing it to her mouth and tipping her head up. As she releases her finger, the liquid slides down her throat. I watch her muscles work as she swallows it down, and my brain grows fuzzy, imagining it’s my cum she’s drinking.

Above this club is a luxury hotel, and I got the penthouse suite for the night. I plan to fuck her on every surface of that bitch before we have to check out in the morning.

She reaches forward and grazes her palm up my thigh before brushing it over the bulge in my pants. “What do you say we get on out of here, big guy?” she whispers, leaning closer to my ear. “Your girlfriend isn’t here, so it’s just you and me tonight.”

Holy fuck. Gemma came to play tonight.

And hopefully, by play, I mean … play with my cock.

“So fast?” I coo, brushing my fingertips along her collarbone. “What’s the rush?”

“I could tell you, but I’d rather just show you.” She lifts an eyebrow. “As long as you’re a good boy and do everything I say.” Her voice doesn’t even sound like it usually does.

Shit, that’s hot.

The amount of blood that has rushed to my cock can’t be healthy. I really want to bite down on my knuckle to relieve whatever fucking pressure is going on inside my body from her.

“Lead the way,” I bite out, practically feeling the heat pumping from her body to mine.

With her heels clicking on the tiled floor, Gemma leads me to the elevator. I watch her ass move under the fabric of her dress, making my cock stir before she pushes the button and the elevator doors open.

Stepping inside, she twirls to face me, giving me a seductive smile before holding a finger up and instructing me to follow. She didn’t need to do it; I would have followed either way like the lost puppy dog that I was for this woman, but either way … she looked hot and confident, doing it.

Strutting in, I walk beside her and turn around. The doors close, and I’m well aware of her presence even before she moves her body in front of mine and presses her ass up against my dick. When she grinds it against my now-aching length, I suck in a breath, wishing I were in control because I’d pull her dress up and finger her tight little ass right here in this fucking elevator.

A moment later, the doors open, and she reaches behind her, giving my shirt a tug before walking away from me and leading us toward thehotel room. Holding her key card to the door, she pushes it open. I play the part of a man who doesn’t know this woman, but who’s about to get his mind fucking blown.

I don’t know what to expect, but when she brought up this idea, she mentioned wanting to take control. I agreed instantly for two reasons. One, it sounded fucking hot, and I’d love to have her dominate me. And two, I’d always do whatever I could to help her feel safer and in control.

“Here we are,” she says slowly.

I close the door behind me, and she does a slow turn.

I have to give it to her—she hasn’t broken character once and is taking this incredibly seriously, which makes it even sexier.

“You’re mine now, Number Eight,” she coos, referencing my jersey number. Stepping closer, she drags her finger up my neck and to my chin. “Are you ready to submit to me? Or are you afraid to give up control?”

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