“Happy New Year!”
Her arms fly around my neck as she pulls me down, and my mouth dives to find hers. She opens my mouth with the probing of her tongue, and I smile into the kiss. Her tongue finds mine, letting me taste the faint hint of champagne lingering there. We both limited ourselves to this one drink after the morning we had, full of headaches and nausea. It could have been worse, I remind myself.
She drops one hand to my waistband, fingers curling around my belt, tugging my hips closer to her, and I groan into her mouth. Fuck this.
I lift her over my shoulder like a neanderthal, like Bren did to Sofia last night, and take her back inside the house. I ignore the looks I get from Bren, Fritz, and the entire party as I stalk across the lawn, get inside the house, and take us to our bedroom.
I bring her to her feet once we’re in our room, and I start unbuttoning my shirt to the sound of fireworks outside our window.
“Naked,” I bark.
Lola jumps a little at the tone in my voice, but then her own little dark smile twists her mouth, and she hurriedly undresses.
I steal another kiss from her hungrily, letting my dick press against her smooth stomach, and she whimpers into my mouth. When I break away after a long moment, Lola is panting. “You are going to sit on my face,” I tell her.
“What—”
I smile at her. “I’m going to lie down on this bed, here”—I point next to us—“and you are going to sit on my face. You’re going to let me taste that sweet, sweet pussy. You hear me?”
Lola nods, wringing her hands in front of her. I lift her chin. “No. You won’t be embarrassed. Do you understand?”
She nods.
I run my hand down her thigh. “You’re going to spread these pretty little legs, and open up your perfect cunt for my tongue, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she breathes out. Her cheeks are rosy from the champagne, and I’m finding it difficult to keep control here.
I bring her body over me as I lie down and instruct her to support herself with her palms to the wall above the headboard. She does as I say, but she is so nervous.
“Sit,” I order her.
Gripping my shaft in one hand, I feel as she slowly lowers those lips to my mouth.
I lick her once, tentatively, and her body shudders.
“Karl,” she moans.
“Do you know how perfect you are, doll?” I lick again, stroking myself and looking up at her body, her breasts tantalizing with hard nipples I want to suck but can’t reach with my hands occupied spreading her lips and stroking myself.
I let my eyes fall closed as I find her clit and circle it with my tongue. I bite it gently, then tease it some more. Allowing myself to enjoy the taste of her, I feel as her thighs begin to shake around my face.
This is not the New Year’s kiss I had in mind, nor the one I was expecting.
But I sure as hell am not complaining.
31
KARL
The following day, as we arrive back at our building, it seems every news reporter in Kansas City is waiting outside the gate to the garage.
“What the hell is going on?” Lola asks.
“They’re probably going apeshit because I said I love you publicly.”
Lola’s eyes drop to her hands as she wrings the hem of her shirt. Since I said “I love you” in front of the rock and roll elite in L.A., she still has not acknowledged my declaration. I haven’t brought it up either. It was a whirlwind two days, and it seems we hardly had a moment to ourselves, and when we did, I usually opted to eat her out instead of talking.
Not a bad tactic, really.