Page 8 of Second Go-Round

Five.

Fucking luscious lips curved and cheeks flushed, she stared at me, her body still swaying like a sex-starved siren, reeling me in.

I grasped her hip, slowly drawing her in. The sweet scent of honeysuckle swarmed my senses like bees, creating havoc in my ears—or perhaps it was the rush of pulsing blood through my arteries as I took in the rest of her gorgeous face.

Perfectly arched auburn eyebrow. Slightly crooked nose. Those goddamn lips that sent need throbbing through my balls. Pointy chin promised stubbornness. Generous cleavage in her slinky top sent my mind toward fucking between the soft flesh. Her nipples pebbled beneath my stare. Wide hips and legs longer than a twelve-hour shift beneath her mid-thigh skirt…Christine was all woman. A teenager’s wet dream. A man’s fantasy. A perfect specimen for my own spank bank.

Sliding my thigh between hers, I gave her something to grind against. The warmth of her core brushed over my jeans as though no material separated our skin.

I tugged her even closer.

Lifting my gaze revealed the pulse throbbing in her neck and her pupils dominating the green of her eyes. The mutual lust, the same need drawing me closer, making me want to burrow deep inside her and never come up for air, radiated in her stare.

Chemistry between two people was only meant for fairy tales and Hallmark movies over the holidays.

But at that moment, I got it. Fucking felt it down deep in the marrow of my bones. The hairs on my nape rose as images of what could be—what would be as soon as I got Christine alone—shot through my mind’s eye.

Barely keeping my grasping knuckles from going white on her hip, I spun Christine around, fitting her back perfectly against my body. A few inches shorter than my six-three, her head rested on my shoulder, my straining dick against the top of her ass crack. She rested against my chest, our hips gyrating in perfect rhythm as though we’d been dancing together our whole lives.

I gathered her mass of hair in one fist, tugging to bare her pale neck. Inhaling deeply, I nosed along her smooth skin, salivating over the scent of woman beneath the honeysuckle sweetness.

“You are Christine, aren’t you?” I didn’t doubt my memory of the image Dina had sent me, but Micah would kill me if I took the wrong woman to bed.

“Yes.” I barely heard her reply through the beat of the sensual music.

“Thank fuck.” I groaned the words against her ear, letting her know how much the sight of her pleased me.

She swayed her hips beneath my hand, grinding her round ass against my hard cock. Moving with her—mimicking a slow, sensual fuck—I licked from her clavicle to her lobe, groaning at her sweet yet slightly salty taste.

A shudder wracked through Christine, and I slid my hand from her hip over her soft belly, my pinkie resting atop her pubis.

“Jesus,” she hissed, shifting her lush backside all the fuck over my aching dick.

My groin throbbed, the desperate desire to bury myself balls deep inside of her body driving my swiveling hips. I wanted to devour her whole. Take everything she offered and take it again. Heat rushed through me as I trailed open-mouthed kisses from her neck to her shoulder and back up again, the loud bass coursing through my body with the need to fuck.

Christine arched into me, her arms lifting to grab hold of my neck, and I slid my hand upward, fingers brushing the side of her large breast while I drank in the sight of her cleavage and tight nipples.

I had to adjust my junk. Grip the base to keep from blowing my load like a fresh-faced virgin who’d never gotten to dip his dick into a wet pussy.

Instead, I tightened my hold on her hair with a growl, tipped her head—and laid claim to her mouth.

No soft brushes of lips exchanged between us, simply pure lust, a hunger to delve deeper, taste, and steal breath. Her tongue met mine, stroke for stroke, our bodies shifting in the same vein as though fucking through our clothes.

Electrical sparks zapped through my bloodstream, kicking up my heartbeat when I already felt as though it would burst from my chest. My goddamn head went light as awareness of Christine made its way known through my entire body. A deep yearning to explore, to learn every inch of her, and have her shatter beneath me overwhelmed my brain.

My hand pressed tight to her belly once more, keeping her clasped tight against me—but she wasn’t close enough. The thump of the music beat in time with my heart, sending hot blood thrumming through my veins.

How far would she allow me to take things in public? Exhibitionism hadn’t been listed as a limit, and with the way she ate at my mouth as I did hers without a care about the press of bodies against us, I expected I could get away with a lot.

She gasped into my mouth but didn’t shy from my touch as I cupped her pussy through her skirt. Heat seared my hand, and I cursed. Grinding the heel of my palm against her clit only made her more frantic, her hands grasping at my hair, her cinnamon-laced breath panting between our hovering lips.

She writhed against me, shivering and trembling. “Fucking hell,” she spoke over my mouth.

We needed to get out of there before I seriously lost my mind and ended up getting us tossed out for screwing in public. Tearing my lips off hers, I glanced around, wondering what wall I could fuck her against.

A whole arsenal of toys sat in the Elite-provided bag in the limo parked a couple of blocks away, but I wanted her to come undone in my arms.

Sucking her lobe into my mouth, I slid my fingers over the front of her stretchy skirt, mapping out the swell and indent between her thighs. She turned her head, taking my mouth again in a searing, owning kiss, and I rubbed against the hard nub beneath my fingers as she tried to suck the breath from my lungs.

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