Page 11 of Second Go-Round

I once more took note of the old woman who stood alongside the curb. Pulling away from Jarod, I approached her. “Can I walk you across the street?”

She smiled and patted my arm. “Thank you, honey, but I’m just waiting for my cab.”

Nodding, I returned to Jarod who shoved his phone away again.

He glanced at the woman then me, eyes thoughtful.

“So, you like to dance?” he asked, rather than question my interaction with the older woman..

“I’m not the best dancer but—”

“You move like pure passion drenched in sin.”

I grinned. “I enjoy the writhing masses. The scent of sex in the air as people try to fuck through clothing. It’s a complete turn-on. Makes me wet.”

He blinked as though surprised by my candid words and pressed down on the ridge of the undeniable hard-on beneath his jeans. “Fuck, the way you talk.”

I purred, so damn ready to drive him past caring where we fucked. While I wasn’t in the mood to get tossed into the slammer for indecent exposure, I wasn’t above giving at least the limo driver a good show.

“You like to fuck.” Jarod didn’t voice a question.

“I’m a woman. I like men. I love the hardness of a male body against mine and chasing the high of a good orgasm.”

“How do you like it?”

“Sex?”

He nodded.

“Any and all ways.” I glanced at the long line still waiting for admittance to Chantelle’s Too, Boston’s newest dance club we’d enjoyed perhaps a bit too much past the point of prudent, but I didn’t really give a fuck. The owner was the same Chantelle who supposedly owned a club of other sorts too—the whips and chains type. Not my bag exactly, but to each their own.

“I let my mood dictate though.” I glanced up into Jarod’s dark eyes.

Warm and open, those orbs peered down at me, a hint of a smile ghosting on his lips. “And tonight?” he asked, angling his body, giving me a very good feel along my hip of what he had on offer.

My pussy spasmed at the thought of him sliding into my core. Wrecking me. “Well, since you are a professional, I’m expecting at least two if not three rounds of the best sex of my life.” I sounded like a needy whore but put the blame on him in my mind.

“Is that a fact?”

“Mmm.” I slid my hand down his throat and over the swell of his rock-hard pecs. “First one hard and fast—wall, table, island in my kitchen—you can take your pick.”

“I like the way you think.”

God. The gravel in his voice…I clenched my thighs together. “The second, I want it slow. So damn slow you have me begging for release, all the while denying me.”

That ghostly smile hinted to life again. “And the third?”

“If you’re up for it—” I wormed my hand between us and grabbed hold of his impressive girth “—I’ll let you choose.”

A limo pulled up to the curb beside us, and I squeezed Jarod through his jeans before releasing my grip on his cock.

“As you wish,” he whispered against my lips but pulled back before actually kissing me.

Flushed through with heat and the need for another orgasm, I climbed into the car after a quick thanks to the chauffeur, whose hair was slicked-back into a ponytail.

“Thanks, Ricky,” Jarod said from behind me.

Cool leather kissed the back of my thighs as I slid onto the seat and scooted over to make room for him. With enough seating for eight, the limo was spacious enough for a good hard fuck. I should have told him I didn’t want to wait until we got to my place for that first wild ride.

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