Second Go-Round Page 2

I turned and made my way through the crowd, Christine in tow. Impatient as fuck, I fought to keep from shoving people out of my way. The level of the music prohibited me from excusing us properly, so I shouldered my way through when necessary, holding tightly to her hand.

  Beneath the balcony by the bar, the music level lowered a bit, and Christine squeezed my hand. I stopped, pulled her up against my side, and leaned down when she gestured to me with her hand.

  “My bag is in a locker,” she said, her raised voice in my ear.

  Never having been to the dance club before, I didn’t know what she meant. “Locker?”

  She fished a key from her cleavage and held it up. “Bathroom.”

  Tugging my hand, she turned and I followed, pleased she wanted me to go with her rather than wait. A long hallway branched off adjacent to the dance floor, the guarded door muffling the music as it closed behind us.

  My ears rang.

  Christine released her hold on my hand as we drew near the women’s lounge. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m not done with you yet.” Her green-eyed gaze lifted to my face for a split second, and she left me, my mouth half-open and brain fried. Dark and unfathomable depths lay beyond her pupils. Eyes a man could drown in. Forget his name.

  Damn.

  Christine

  Holy shit balls, he’s ten times hotter in person.

  Face flushed and entire body tingling, I entered a stall and wiped my cum off my soaked panties.

  Hot and sexy.

  A shiver of excitement slid down my spine as I retrieved my purse from the locker I had rented. I grabbed my phone and moved on unsteady legs to the mirror while shooting off a text to Jess.

  C: OMG Jess! He is so fucking hot! Tell Reid thank you times a million!!!

  She must have been waiting, because her reply came back almost immediately.

  J: Have fun!! You better share all the juicy details!

  C: Oh, I WILL. wink

  I dropped my phone back in my purse and checked myself out in the mirror, casting a smile at the two women beside me. In typical bitch form, they ignored me while adjusting their boobs.

  As an only child and having a tomboy for a mother, I never understood women and their cattiness.

  Dim overhead lights hid the imperfections marring two spots on my face. Zits with a capital Z, red, but still unformed above the skin and tender as hell.

  My eyes appeared sated. Happy.

  And the night hadn’t even begun. While I’d experienced the same kind of anticipation on a date before, there was no way in hell an Elite Escort would disappoint. He got paid to have sex, for crying out loud.

  I’ll bet every single inch of that delectable man is talented.

  God.

  Grinning, I slid my purse strap over my shoulder and clicked my heels against the tile floor while returning to the tall drink of water my good friend’s fiancé had rented me for the night.

  I had originally picked Jarod out as a date for Jess who had needed a mommy’s night out and good lay desperately. But as fate loves to fuck with us mere mortals, another tall, dark, and handsome had to fill in last minute—Reid Sullivan.

  Within weeks of meeting Jess, he had quit his work as an escort. Within two months, they moved in together, Reid taking the role of daddy to Jess’s daughter Skye, and knocking my friend up for another of his own.

  To be so lucky in love…

  I huffed a breath while pushing open the bathroom door. One night to enjoy the hell out of perfection … poor man wouldn’t be able to walk come morning.

  My gaze landed on hot-as-fuck Jarod, Elite Escort. Nothing boring about the way he looked, that was for damn sure.

  Well over a handful of inches taller than my 5’9”, dark mussed hair, mysterious eyes, Henley and jeans clinging to every bulge lining his body, including the impressive one between his legs.

  I licked my lips.

  “See something you like?”

  His low voice sent another shiver down my back, and I cocked an eyebrow while meeting his gaze. “I see something I want.”

  A groan emitted between his luscious, full lips, and he held out his hand.

  I laced my fingers with his again, loving how well our palms fit together. He had big hands. Talented fingers which had come as close to fulfilling my number one fantasy as one could without checking it off my sexual to-do list.

  Wetness dripped from my pussy, soaking my panties again. He hadn’t even touched the skin between my legs, and I’d come harder than I had in years.

  I hoped like hell his cock had the same abilities as his fingers. He must, I told myself while following him back down the hallway. He’s a professional escort. That cock is a money-maker.

  Another thrill of adrenaline shot through me, drying my mouth.

  We stepped out into the early fall evening, Boston’s downtown alight with passing cars and the roar of a plane taking off from Logan. An elderly lady hobbled past us, cane grasped in her shaking hand, and I glanced around to see if anyone accompanied her.

  Jarod tucked me against his side again, pulling my attention back to his holy hotness. I fit perfectly next to him without having to slouch my shoulders. A ripple of pleasure ran though me. I was no petite woman in need of a man’s protection, but at that moment, I relished the feeling of comfort a much bigger than me man offered.

  “It’s your night, Christine. Where are we off to?” His words stirred the hair by my ear, and I sucked in a sharp breath as he bit my earlobe.

  Normally, I would head for a sports bar to catch the day’s highlights while downing a few beers, but I only had one free night with Jarod. “My place.”

  “Did you drive?” he asked, his hand dropping to my hip and pressing me close.

  “No.” I tilted up my head to take in his gorgeous cheekbones and tasty lips. “Reid had a limo when he’d picked up Jess, so I assumed…”

  His slow smile sent another rush of moisture to coat my panties. “Not a problem.” He fished a phone from his back pocket and without releasing his hold on my hip, texted with one hand. “So, you like to dance?” he asked, shoving the phone back in his pocket.

  My gaze moved back up the sidewalk, and I watched as the elderly woman climbed into a cab. “I’m not the best dancer but—”

  “But you sure as hell move like pure sin.”

  I grinned and turned back to Jarod. “I enjoy the writhing mass. The scent of sex in the air as people try to fuck without fucking. It’s a complete tease.”

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

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

  “How do you like it?”

  “Sex?”

  He nodded.

  “Any and all ways.” I glanced at the long line still waiting admittance to Chantelle’s Too, Boston’s newest dance club. It was rumored Chantelle owned a club of other sorts—the whips and chains type. “I let my mood dictate, though.” I peered up into Jarod’s dark eyes. Warm and open, he stared down at me, a hint of a smile ghosting on his lips as he angled toward me, grabbing hold of both of my hips.

  “And tonight?”

  My pussy spasmed at the press of Jarod’s cock against my belly. “Well, since you are a professional, I’m expecting at least two if not three go-rounds.”

  “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 tone of voice … I clenched my thighs together. “The second, I want it slow. So damn slow you have me begging for release.”

  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 b
eside us, and I squeezed Jarod through his jeans before releasing my hold 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 chauffer, who had slicked-back hair in a ponytail and was holding the door open.

  “Thanks, Ricky,” Jarod said behind me.

  Cool leather kissed the back of my thighs as I slid onto the seat and scooted over to make room for him. Seating for eight, spacious enough for a good hard fuck. Should have told him I didn’t want to wait until we got to my place.

  I noted a black bag on the floor and wondered at the toys and sex paraphernalia inside. Reid had the same Elite-provided bag on his and Jessica’s date—or so I’d been told, but all he’d used was the massage oil.

  Jarod lowered onto the seat beside me and pressed close, his large hand grasping the top of my thigh.

  “Where to?” Ricky asked as he settled behind the wheel a moment later.

  I spouted off my address quite a ways up Route 1, and with a nod, he shut the window between us, encasing Jarod and I in complete privacy. Soft music came to life, and seconds later, the limo pulled out into Boston’s nighttime traffic.

  “For the first go-round, I’m going to fuck you against the front door of your house, but right now,” Jarod said, lowering to his knees in front of me, “I’m going to bury my nose between these thighs and lick your cunt until you squirm.”

  “I like the way you think,” I said, my voice breathless, betraying my body’s need.

  His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my skirt into a bunch. I wiggled, assisting in his plan, and he yanked me to the seat’s edge.

  “Comfy?” he asked, trailing a fingertip against the soaked silk covering me.

  “Comfy enough.”

  Jarod hooked his fingers under the sides of my panties and pulled them down my legs, releasing my heeled feet one at a time. He tossed the panties aside, and grasping my knees, spread me wide.

  “Bare.” He stared at the smooth skin between my thighs as he moved close. “I like that.” Palming my ass, he lifted me and buried his face in my pussy as promised, my moan and his groan colliding in the air between us.

  My eyelids fluttered shut and head tipped back as he ate me out like a starving man. Tongue, nose, and teeth, he didn’t pussyfoot around, but tortured me with his need to taste every inch, fuck me deep with his long tongue, nibble my swollen lips … flick and suck my throbbing clit.

  My fingers found purchase in his hair, and I ground myself against his face, chasing my orgasm. Bastard let off and dipped low to lick my ass and tongue me every time I neared the crest. I tried to force his head back up to my clit, but he held steady, denying me what I wanted.

  “Goddamn it, Jarod!” I yanked on his hair as my clit popped from his mouth’s suction again and he roamed southward to my ass.

  He snickered and caught my gaze as his tongue rimmed my puckered hole.

  My hold tightened on his hair, my heart thundered in my chest. “Please. I need to come.”

  Finally—finally—he pressed two fingers deep into my sopping wet core. “Is this what you need, Christine? My fingers fucking your cunt and my mouth on your clit?”

  “Oh, fuck.” My head tipped back again as he latched onto my clit. “Don’t stop. Please … Christ, don’t stop!” You’d think I hadn’t climaxed in months the way my orgasm ripped through me.

  Jarod’s fingers and tongue drew out every clench of my pussy, every shudder rippling down through me as I gasped for breath. He lapped up every trace of my cum and sucked his fingers clean, the noises in his throat barely reaching through the ringing in my ears.

  I sagged into the leather seat, sucking wind. “Holy shit. It’s no wonder you get paid to please a woman.”

  Grinning, Jarod kissed each of my thighs and tugged my skirt back down before settling onto the seat beside me again. “It’s easy when said woman tastes like heaven. I could eat you out ten times and still crave more.”

  A shudder rippled down through me. “The way you talk,” I breathed the words, my need to feel his cock rammed so far up inside of me that I forgot my name.

  “Drink?” he asked, opening the mini-bar.

  Licking my dry lips, I nodded. “Got any beer?”

  “Sure thing.”

  He popped the top and handed me one, the bottle chilling my palm. I tilted it up, guzzling to cool my parched throat. My gaze lowered to the hard ridge inside of his jeans as I came up for air. As much as I wanted to feel his hot flesh in my hands, I wanted to save every inch, every thrust for my needy pussy.

  “Want these back?” he asked, lifting my soaked panties.

  I tossed them in my purse. “So how’d you come to work for Elite?” I asked and swigged again.

  Settling back into the seat and pressing against my side, he sipped from a bottle of water. “My best friend Micah Fox owns the place.”

  “Get out.”

  “Nope. Started the business a little over five years ago. When money got tight and tuition went up, I needed to supplement my income. Seemed like a better side job than stocking grocery shelves.”

  I snickered and swigged again. “Does it ever get old? Fucking all those cunts for cash?”

  I expected a laugh or quick no, but Jarod hesitated. “Not old. Some days it does feel like a job, though.”

  “So what do you do if you don’t find your client attractive?”

  His dark eyes twinkled in the car’s dim interior. “Little blue pills can make any juicy cunt feel like heaven.”

  “They’ll never let you down.” We both laughed, a queer tingle spreading through my belly. “So what do you do for your real job—or is personal stuff off limits in case clients get all stalkerish on your ass?”

  “I’m a nurse.”

  My eyebrows popped up. He seemed more the macho sports type than compassionate caregiver. “Really?”

  “I had leukemia when I was a kid—”

  “Oh God.”

  “—and I adored the nurses who helped me through it.”

  “I can see how that would be a huge influence.”

  “My parents split just a few months after I’d started treatments, and the stability of the hospital and its staff became more of a home than the two I ended up bouncing between.”

  “That must have sucked ass.”

  “Yep.” He twirled one of my long waves of hair through his fingers before sipping his water again.

  “So no relapses?”

  “Nope. Clean bill of health since sixteen.”

  “Your parents still around?”

  “Both of them remarried. Dad lives on the South Shore, Mom’s on the Cape.”

  I lifted my beer and cast a sideways glance. “And you?”

  He grinned and winked. “Now that is a little too personal.”

  “Think I’m going to get all stalkerish on your ass?”

  “Nah. You aren’t the needy, unstable type.”

  “Oh?” I lifted one eyebrow. “Have me pegged, do you?”

  Jarod shrugged. “I like to think I’m pretty good at reading people.”

  “All right, then.” I angled on the seat to face him, my skirt riding up in the process and drawing his gaze down to the length of thigh I flashed at him. I certainly wasn’t unstable, but I’d never felt so needy for a man in my life. “What have you figured out about me?”

  “You’re confident. Aggressive. You know what you want and you speak your mind.”

  “Anyone would know that within two minutes of meeting me.”

  “You’re empathetic and compassionate. Giving.”

  I narrowed my gaze, my focus on his full, luscious lips. “You’ve been talking to Reid.”

  “Nope.”

  “But you know I paid for his night with Jess.”

  “I didn’t need to know that to see the softness in your eyes when that old woman shuffled past us o
n the sidewalk.”

  “She shouldn’t have been out walking alone like that.” I finished off my beer. “Did you see the way her hand trembled on the cane?”

  “Yes.”

  I shook my head and put the empty bottle in the cup holder to my left. “I’m not looking forward to getting old.”

  “You’re not a vain person.”

  My eyebrow shot up again. If only he knew how much I dreaded wrinkles and sagging skin. “It’s more the frailty and being unable to care for myself is what I can’t stand the thought of.”

  “I think most people feel that way about growing old.”

  “God.” I grimaced and glanced out the window as the limo driver eased off the gas and entered the ramp taking us off Route 1. “Enough of the morbid. Talk dirty to me.”

  Jarod

  Pure woman, sexy as sin, and unapologetic about her desires—could the woman be any more infectious? I’d been honest when I said I could eat her out ten times and still want more. I gazed into her eyes and wrapped one hand around the back of her neck to draw Christine close.

  She grabbed two handfuls of my shirt and met me halfway, our lips in no hurry to taste the other’s. Breathing her exhales, my tongue explored the soft silkiness of her mouth and tongue. She tasted of hops and spicy cinnamon. I couldn’t get enough.

  I trailed my other hand up along her thigh, atop her skirt, intent on filling my palm with her breast. My cock already leaked, but the low moan she whispered against my mouth as I slid my hand beneath her shirt tightened my balls to the point of pain. Her large breast fit perfectly in my hand. No bra, no restrictions for my roaming fingers.

  Blazing a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her throat, I squeezed and thumbed her plump nipple. She arched her back and moaned, and I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in the silky-soft flesh I palmed.

  “I want to taste every inch of you,” I murmured in her ear while flicking her nipple. “Lick, suck, bite…”

  Christine grabbed me through my jeans, and I groaned, tilting my forehead against hers. “And what does he want?” Her low, sultry tone sent a rush through my body, causing my cock to jump in her hand.

  “To be shoved so far up your wet cunt that I forget everything but the feeling of your tightness squeezing me, milking every last drop of cum from me.”