“No.”

I expect her to argue with me but she doesn’t. She keeps swaying her hips and says, “Well, that’s a shame. I imagine you’re good at giving a woman an orgasm. I would have liked to be treated to one from you.”

She removes her hands from my neck and steps back.

I reach for her hand as she turns to walk away from me. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find someone to do what you won’t.”

Fuck.

This is her pain talking. I might support her uprising, but this isn’t Kristen. This is her pushing her boundaries in an unsafe space.

“No, you’re not.”

She shoots me a scathing look that would cause a lesser man to wilt. “Why do men think it’s okay to tell women what they can and can’t do?”

“That’s not my goal here. I want you to make your own choices, but I want them to be safe.”

“That’s still telling me what to do.”

“You’ve been drinking. Put yourself in my shoes.”

“I don’t want to. I’m tired of putting myself in other people’s shoes.”

I’ve got two options here. Give her what she wants or let her go and find it with someone else. Just the thought of another man’s hands on her is hellish. But besides that, allowing anyone to take advantage of her tonight isn’t something I can do.

I blow out a frustrated breath. “Let me take you home, Kristen.”

“You’ll fuck me?”

Jesus, this isnother.

“If that’s still what you want when we get there, yes. Although, I would have preferred our first time to be a whole lot different than this.”

“Oh, don’t fool yourself, Bradford. This won’t ever happen again. There won’t be a second time for us.” She grips my shirt. “And I’ve just changed my mind. I want you to fuck me here.”

“Fuck, no.” Kristen spent a lot of time asking me questions about guys and sex when we were younger. We discussed her sex life enough for me to know she doesn’t like having sex in public. And as much as she’s pushing back against everything in her life, I can’t see that having changed.

She gives me a look that can’t be confused with anything butOh, yes, you are. She grabs my hand and leads me off the dancefloor to a couch in one of the corners. The club is dark and the couches appear set up for this kind of thing. For maximum privacy. They’ve even lowered the music a little in this area.

I sit on a couch, expecting Kristen to join me. She doesn’t. Instead, she dances in front of me, gyrating her hips while skimming one hand down over her body from her neck to her leg. She lifts her other arm above her head before bringing it down her body too. Her hand slows when it reaches her breast and she tweaks her nipple while biting her bottom lip. Keeping her fingers working that nipple, she slips her other hand under her dress and reaches for her pussy.

My hand is instantly on my dick and I stroke myself while watching her touch herself.

Kristen’s hips move with the beat of the music and I have to work hard not to take hold of them and pull her down onto my lap so she can move them on me to the beat.

She dances for me for a few minutes before straddling me. She brings herself down slowly, rolling her hips all the way along my legs until her pussy is against my dick and her tits are against my chest.

Tracing one of the fingers she just had to her pussy over my lips, she says, “I’ve thought about your dick more often than I care to admit.”

Hell.

Her scent fills me. I can’t get enough of it and I can’t recall the last time I was as hard as I am now.

I place one hand on her bare thigh while fighting with myself over putting my other hand where I want it. If this was happening between us in the way I’d have preferred, my hands and mouth would beeverywhere. There would be no hesitation. “You have a filthy mouth.”

She forces my lips apart wider and lets me taste her. “Are you complaining?”