Page 19 of That One Night

“You wanna talk about it?”

I shrug. Maybe I’ll feel better if I spill my soul. I open my mouth and there’s a sharp knock at the door.

“Room service!”

He smirks. “Saved by the bellhop.”

As I go to get up, he puts a hand on my knee.

“Stay. I’ll get it.” He wiggles out from under my legs, trotting over to the door. He disappears behind the corner, and I hear him talking to the delivery person.

A skinny guy in a hotel polo shirt comes in pushing a cart. “Evening, ma’am. Where do you want it?”

* * *

In minutes,we’ve got a feast spread across the low glass table—filet mignon, broccoli and loaded potatoes, fresh bread with butter, a sharable salad, a bottle of pinot noir with two glasses, two large bottles of electrolyte water, and two orders of blueberry bread pudding drizzled with caramel sauce. We sit on the floor between the sofa and the table, sharing it all.

For over an hour we talk about everything and nothing. Amy is his only sibling. They had an older brother who died of a rare heart condition before he and Amy were born. Apparently, his best friend has a dog and he wants to steal it. He swears the dog likes him better.

I tell him a bit about Harrison’s wedding. He’s curious about the way we blended in Thai customs to honor Somchai’s family. There was a beautiful making merit ceremony yesterday morning to start the festivities. Nine monks from the downtown Buddhist temple came to chant prayers and offer blessings.

“And don’t get me started on the food,” I say.

He hums, his mouth full of bread pudding. Once he swallows he says, “I assume it was pretty good then?”

I grin, taking my time with my own food. I’m actually cutting my steak. He just inhaled his. “I think the word that comes to mind isorgasmic,” I reply with a wink.

“Oh, don’t play with me,” he groans, setting his fork down. “If you’re about to say your dinner last night was better than the three orgasms I’ve given you tonight, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He lunges, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his lap as I laugh, squirming to get away. I mean, I don’t try very hard.

“Is that what you want?” he growls, his hand diving inside the open slit of my robe to cup my breast and tweak my nipple. “Do you want to see a grown man cry into his blueberry pie?”

I giggle, still squirming. “It’s bread pudding—”

“I don’t care what it’s called. It’s fucking delicious. Butyoutaste better,” he adds, nipping at my ear. His other hand slides up my thigh, cupping me between my legs.

I sigh. This doesn’t feel so playful anymore.

“Open,” he growls, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin behind my ear.

My legs fall open for him as if I’m a genie who can only do her master’s bidding.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, playing with my clit. “So wet for me. Are you always this wet? God, I hope not,” he answers. “I want you like this for me.Onlyme. Say that you’re mine.”

I shiver, fighting the urge to move my hips in time with his fingers. “I’m yours.”

“Fuck, I have to have you again,” he groans. “Please say I can have you again. Need you.” He’s already pushing me off his lap as I pant out a desperate yes. “Hands and knees, baby girl,” he says, jerking on the tie of my robe.

We’re wedged between the sofa and the coffee table, but I’m determined to make this work. I can’t wait another second to have him either. I scramble onto my hands and knees, facing the windowed wall. Behind me, he flips up my robe, exposing my ass. He bends over me, his hand curling between my legs to finger me again.

“Spread a bit, baby. You know how big I am.”

I flash him another teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling cocky.”

He laughs, grabbing my jaw and giving me a kiss that tastes like caramel sauce. “Yeah,you. Right now. You’re about to be so full of my cock. You’ll feel me everywhere. I want you just like this. Down on your elbows,” he says, putting a little pressure on my back with his hand. “Show me this sweet pussy.”

I drop down to my elbows, my face resting on my folded forearms. It leaves my ass sticking up in the air, his for the taking. God, I love this angle. Some girls say doggy style is over-rated, but for me? Lord, Ilivefor it. I love feeling a dick driving in so deep. With his gorgeous cock, he’s going to hit me just right.

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