Page 15 of Turn Me On
His mouth dropped open in awe. “I’ll never get over how hot it is to see you like this. Never.” He pumped his finger in slowly, staying shallow.
The squelch of his release being shoved inside my ass was vulgar in the best way.
“If I could leave you decorated in my cum all night, I would. I’d lay at your feet and stare at your pretty little asshole and dream of filling you up again.”
I sighed, a smile crossing my face. “I love the way you dirty talk to me.”
He stretched his arms over his head, then scrubbed a hand over his scruff. “Let me get us cleaned up.”
As he headed for the sink hidden behindthe wings of the exhibition room, I collapsed face down on the bed. The world around me faded as I basked in the afterglow of our night together. His body on mine, mine on his. A mechanical whirr clicked on. Rider must’ve triggered the curtains to close. We were done for the night.
A warm, wet cloth ran over the seam of my ass, then dipped inside as Rider wiped up his mess. The heat was soothing and such a welcome sensation.
“Flip over,” he mumbled, focused on his work.
I did as he said, and he dragged a second cloth from my neck to my pussy, wiping up any trace he’d ever spent himself on or in me. He turned and tossed each cloth halfway across the room, effortlessly hitting the sink, before leaning over and boxing me in where I laid.
Resting his forehead against mine, he whispered, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
I grabbed his face between my palms and stared him in the eyes. “Leave it, Rider. Security already nabbed him. They’ll deal with the situation.”
He shook his head. “Not like I will.”
Without another word, he took off out of the room, the door slamming behind him. I bolted upright. He didn’t even pause to throw on a pair of underwear or pants or a freaking towel.
“Shit,” I muttered, climbing off the bed and following after him.
I, however, paused to grab one of my robes hanging on the back of the door and threw it on, cinching it tight around the waist. No need for two naked, pissed off people to be running around the club. One was certainly enough.
It was essential to find Rider before he found my ex. Sure, Rider was normally like a great big basset hound—devoted, lovable, a little dumb, but in the most endearing way. But when he got angry, which was rare, a whole other side came out to play. And he only ever got outraged about one thing.
Me.
8
rider
I was goingto give him a piece of my mind. And my fist.
Michael would most likely be holding him behind the front desk in the security room. I sprinted down the hall, taking a sharp right at the end. My dick slapped against my pelvis, flopping from side to side as I dashed toward the entrance to the club.
“Rider,” Lilah’s boyfriend, Adam, called as I tore through the lounge. His eyes bugged out of his face at the sight of me speeding through the place buck naked. “You good, man?”
“Charlie’s ex is here!” I hollered, not stopping to explain further.
How fucking dare Brad show his face back here after everything he put Charlie through? I didn’t give a shit if I sent him one thousand videos of me and her doing every unspeakable thing under the sun. He had absolutely no right to taunt us against the glass like that. To slam his fist on the wall. To demand her attention.
What a ginormous prick.
Yes, I’d own my part in this. It was a dick move to send him that video, but it’s not like he hadn’t sent Charlie pictures of him and his insane number of new lays over the past year. The photos were always accompanied by awhoops—wrong numberor other lame-ass excuse, but we all knew he did it on purpose. He wanted Charlie to see who he was with. He wanted to rub her face in how much ‘better’ he was doing without her.
Jackass.
So, we retaliated. Partially due to too much alcohol and partially due to the taboo of it all, but in the end, I just wanted him to fucking stop. Somehow, it didn’t matter that she’d blocked his number. I heavily suspected he bought burner phones or downloaded those stalker apps that changed aperson’s number to text her ludicrous pictures of his new situationships.
I emerged in the reception area and clocked Michael standing guard in front of the door behind the desk. “Where is he?” I snarled.
He reached out, twisted the doorknob, and let it swing open.
