Chapter 32
I woke several hours later, and when I rolled over, I was surprised to see it was after six o’clock. I’d forgotten to set my alarm. I stretched out, rolled off the bed, and headed to the bathroom. My hair stuck up in all directions, and I had sleep creases down my cheek.It was luckyI still had a few hours before I needed to be ready for Corben.
I was undecidedon whether I should eat or not. Corben hadn’t mentioned we’d be going to dinner. Mygrumbling stomach forced my decision, andI made two slices of Peanut Butter on toast and decided to have it with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
Out on the balcony, I ate my snack, sipped my wine, and watched the world go by for an hour or so. It was a beautiful night. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but a million stars dotted the blackness. Down on the beach,a bunch ofteenagers looked to be having a party. Thumping music drifted up from the sand, and several girls still in bikinis danced to the rhythm.
It made me wonder where Corben was taking me. He didn’t strike me as a fancy restaurant type of guy, so I pictured somewhere more casual. He wasn’t the chatty typeeither, so a venue with a bit going on would be ideal, like a bar or maybe the casino. I grabbed my dishes, headed inside, and washed up.
After a long hot shower, I did my hair and makeup andthenstood at my closet, hoping for inspiration. I decided on my jeans and rolled them up at the bottom to show off whatever shoes I chose. It was the perfect night to weara pair ofshoes that hadn’t had an outing yet—something sexy was called for.
On my knees, I leaned into my closet and scanned my extensive shoe collection. Right at the back, I plucked out a pair of navy suede stilettos. They had a thin strap that went over my toe, an enclosed ankle that did up with a back zipper, and a lace strap that wrapped around and around my ankle. Best of all, the heel wasn’t too high—only about five inches.
They were perfect. I smiled.These little beauties were about togeta wonderful memoryto gowith them.
Using the navy as inspiration, I matched it with a navy linen button-up shirt that had little straps that I used to secure my sleeves, which I rolled up a couple of times at the cuff. Tying it all together, I draped a long beaded necklace around my neck twice and put on silver hoop earrings.
I looked in the mirror and turned to inspect my butt to ensure my lacy G-string wasn’t visible. With ten minutes to spare, I grabbed a black tote, tossed in my essentials, and strode out my door. I utilized my time in the elevator to apply a touch of my favorite Bobbi Brown Retro Red lippy.
The middle-aged gentleman who did my shifts during my nights off was behind the counter. He was an aloof man who I’d tried unsuccessfully to chat with a few times.
I waved at him; he waved back,and thatwas the usual extent of our communications. Not that I minded—I was just grateful that his presence allowed me to have every Wednesday off work.
Corben was waiting for me on the middle step. He looked like a rock star in dark denim jeans, stylishly torn in a few places, a white T-shirt that seemed to amplify the bulging pecs beneath it and a black leather jacket that lookedbothexpensive and well-worn. When I stepped up beside him, he smiled and leaned in to kiss my cheek.
“Are you Jane or Memphis tonight?”
I blinked, wondering which one he wanted me to be. Then I smiled. “I’m both.”
“Good.” He nodded and led me to a taxithat waswaiting in the drop-off zone.
He opened the door, and I slid in. He slipped into the back seat beside me, and I assumed Corben must’ve already told the driver our destination as the car pulled out into the evening traffic.
Corben smelled divine, an intoxicating mix of cologne and leather.
He turned to me. “Hope you’ve got your dancing shoes on?”
I glanced at my shoes and cringed. The last thing I’d thought Corben would suggest was dancing. “Well, they’re not as high as some of my shoes.”
“Good.”
We drove in the opposite direction to the casino and headed toward Surfers Paradise.About ten minutes later,we pulled into a taxi zone near Cavill Avenue.Corben gave the driver twenty dollars, and we stepped outat the same time.
Walking side by side, we strolled up the crowded mall. Despite being a Wednesday night, people were everywhere. I shouldn’t be surprised—Surfers Paradise was a party hotspot, no matter which night of the weekit was.
“Hungry?” Corben asked.
“Of course.”
“Good.”
He put his hand around my waist and led meoverto a hotdog stand. I nearly chuckled. Was he joking?
“Hey Johnno, how you doin”?”Corben leaned over the counter and he and Johnno sharedsome kind ofritualistic handshake.
“Corben, how’s my man?”
Corben turned his attention to me. “Johnno here makes the best hotdogs on the Eastern seaboard.”
“Oh, good.” I searched my date’s eyes, almost anticipating him toburst out laughingand declare this a big joke. But he didn’t.
“So, what would you like?”
“Ummm . . .”AsI scanned the blackboard menu, totally bemused by this weird turn of events, Corben stepped up to the counter.
“I’ll have the usual.” He turned to me. “I can recommend the grilled bratwurst and the smoked Kransky, and Johnno makes hisownketchup.”
“Excellent.” I hoped I didn’t sound too sarcastic.
Deciding I had no other option, I studied the menu more extensively. If I was going to do this, Iwas going todo it properly. Maybe Corben was testing me, seeing how I’d react to thisratherunconventional dinner choice.
“Okay, I’ll have the Magnum PI.”
Corben raised his brows. “It’s spicy.”
“I noticed.”
“Okay then.”
He turned to Johnno and ordered my meal.
“Extra bacon, please.” I touched Corben’s arm for his attention. “And a water.”
“Roger that.”
Ten minutes later, carrying our dinner, Corben led me to a bench seat in the middle of the mall, and we sat opposite each other.
I needed both hands to pick up my hotdog, and right from the very first bite, I was sold. The brioche bun was fresh, the sausage was justthe right amount ofspicy, the smoked ham and fresh pineapple added nice twists, and the homemade ketchup was to die for. We atein silence, sharing our glances between our food, each other, and the crowd around us.
“You surprise me, Memphis Jane.”
“Oh, why?”
“I dunno. I just thought you’d cringe at a meal like this.”
So, it had been a test.I did a silent jig that I’d passed with flying colors. “I love food.”
“I can see that.” He glanced down at my empty plate.
“Best hotdog I’ve had in years.” It was the truth, too.
“You’re a fascinating woman.”
Was that good or bad?
By the twinkle in his eyes, I decided it was good and wondered what other tests he had planned for me.
We remained seated for a while, making idle chit-chat about the passing crowd. Every once in a while,heglanced athiswatch, and I had a sneaky feelinghewas waiting for something, though I resisted asking what.
The crowds grew thicker and noisier as the evening rolled on, and it was ten-thirty before Corben finally stood and tossed our rubbish into a nearby bin. “Come on then. It’s time to work off some of those calories.”
Oh God, I didn’t like the sound of that. Unless, of course, it involved wild, crazy sex—then count me in.
Ten minutes later, I acknowledged that, no, it didn’t involve wild, crazy sex as he led me up a long set of stairs to the entrance of Incognito dance club. Here we go—test number two.
Corben and the bouncer did what looked like a well-practiced secret handshake, and wewere admittedwithout paying the ten-dollar cover charge.
The music was loud, and the heavy beat vibrated through my chest. Corben led me to a small round table in front of the bar, and he slipped the reserved sign into his pocket as we sat down on the stools.
The loud music required him to lean into my ear to speak. “What do you drink?”
I shrugged. “Wine.”
He pulled back and frowned. “White or red?”
“White, please, Sauv Blanc.”
“Okay, back in a sec.”
Corben must have an express lane through thethrongat the bar because he returned in record time holding a large wine glass with a tiny slosh of wine in the bottom. He had a crystal tumbler with an amber liquid over a couple of ice cubes. Handing me my glass, we chinked ours together, and then I took a sip. It wasn’t Shaw Smith, but it was acceptable.
Talking was impossible, so as I drank my wine, I alternated my gaze between my hunky date and the dance floor. Corben was a man who commanded attention, and by the constant glances I observed from passing women, he sure did get it.
My first wine went down veryeasily, and Corben bought me another. I made a mental note to buy the next round.
It was my kind of music. Nottoo heavy or techno, and it was easy to move to the beat. WhichI did in my seat. Would Corben ask me to dance?
With my second drink gone, I reached for my bag and leaned over to him. “What are you drinking?
“I’ll get it.”
“No, you won’t.” I was more forceful thanI’dintended, but I wanted him to know I meant it.
“Okay.” He shrugged. “Canadian Club on ice.”
I wiggled to the bar and ordered two Canadian Clubs on ice. Corben smiled at me on my return, and once again, we chinked glasses, and I sipped mine. It was sweet and spicy andreallyyummy.
One of my favorite songs came on, ‘Cake by the Ocean.’ I pulled my tote onto my shoulder, jumped off my stool, grabbed Corben’s hand, and dragged him to the dance floor.
With my hands above my head, I clapped out the funky beat as Corben stepped from side to side with a cheeky grinon his face. I sang the lyrics loud, knowingfull wellthat nobody could hear me. I had all the moves and felt so good showing them off. Stepping forward, I glided my hands down Corben’s chest, treating him as a dance pole. He rolled his head back and laughed, confirming that I’d just passed his second test.
Many people glanced at Corben—women, mostly. Why wouldn’t they? He was the hottest man in the club. And he was all mine. My hands had a mind of their own and groped his bountiful muscles as I gyrated to the rhythm. It was so much fun, and I couldn’t stop laughing as I broke out all my funky moves.
When the song finished, Corben led me back to our table. As I sat, hewent backto the bar and returned moments later with two almost-black drinks in martini glasses.The top of the drink was a thick froth, andnestled in the middle werea couple of coffee beans.
“Oooh, what’s this?”
He leaned into my ear. “Espresso martini.”
“Yummy,” I said, even though I’d never had onebefore. I sipped, and to my delight, it wasstrongyet delicious.
A couple of songs later, I finished my martini and dragged Corben to the dance floor again. He’d loosened upa bit, and it was his turn to shake out a few moves. We were in sync, taking the groovy beat to awholenew level. After a couple of songs, he led me back to the table, and this time, when he returned from the bar, he had a couple of shot glasses, a saltshaker, and two lime wedges.
“Oooh, what are these?”
He frowned. “Tequila. Haven’t you had it before?”
“No.”
He laughed and leaned in. “Follow what I do.”
“Okay.”
He rubbed the lime on the back of his hand near his thumb and sprinkled the salt on the wet spot. Then he held the lime wedge in the salted hand and the shot glass in the other. Corben raised his hand to his mouth, and in atrulyerotic display, he glided his tongue over the salt, then tossed the drink into his mouth and bit into the lime. He slammed his glass onto the table andtossedthe lime skin into it, signifying the end of the ritual.
Rubbing my hands together, I was eager to give this a try. Corben’s eyes dazzled in the flashing lights as he watched me apply the salt. Then, I put the lime wedge in one hand and picked up the shot glass. He wriggled his eyebrows, and I made a show of curling my tongue over the back of my hand, then I tossed the clear liquid into my throat and gasped at the potent onslaught. I shuddered as the fiery liquid coursed through my body.
“Quick, suck the lime,” Corben yelled, and I bit into the citrus, grateful to eradicate the tequila taste.
I stuck my tongue out. “Oh God, that was terrible.”
He put his arm around me, pulled me in for a hug, and kissed my forehead. “You’ll get used to it.”
I could easily get used to him caressing me in public like this.
The nightcarriedon like that. We danced to several songs, and he entertained me with a different-colored drink each time he returned from the bar. I lost all track of time, and it waswonderfulto be out celebrating the nightlife with Mr. Universe. But my pussy soon commanded attention, and with each drink I consumed, I groped him more, becoming increasingly adventurous each time.
Eager to taste my hunky spunk, I slid off my stool, sidled up beside him, wrapped my arms around his thick neck, and planted my lips on his. At my probing tongue, he opened his lips, and as our tongues danced together, I glided one hand over his thigh and between his legs.
He laughed as he pulled back. “All right, lady, it’s time I took you home.”
I wriggled my eyebrows and glided my finger from his left nipple to his right. “Okey-dokey.”
It seemed like only seconds before we were in a cab. Somehow, we got out of the taxi and magically appeared in the elevator at the Hot Horizon Hotel. I shoved Corben back against the wall, forced my tongue into his mouth, and drove the palm of my hand over his groin. My pussy pulsed as if still moving to the nightclub beat. I stepped back and yanked my shirt apart, sending buttons flying.
Corben’s jaw dropped, and wanting to capitalize on the shock factor, I handed him my tote and yanked my top off. As his eyes bulged and his smile broadened, I reached behind my back, unclipped my bra, and swung it around in my hand. Tossing it onto the floor, I clutched Corben’s shoulders, jumped into his arms, and wrapped my legs around him.
Our mouths were locked together as the elevator dinged open, and he carried me to his room. Once inside, he had my back against the wall and his hand around my breast, squeezing and twisting my nipple until it hurt.
I gasped and pulled back. “Owwweee.”
“Sorry, babe.”
Babe!Okay, he’s forgiven.
I slipped off his hips, dropped to my knees, and fumbled with the zipper of his jeans to remove the beast I knew was there. In a flash, his pants were around his ankles, and his cock was in my mouth. Damn, he tasted so good. I glided my tongue around and around the head of his cock and drew that long, fabulous length into my throat.
Corben drove his fingers through my hair, and as I remained still, I allowed him to drive his cock in and out of my mouth. I groaned, and he moaned as his erection grew evengreater. He stepped back and pulled me upright, and the next second, he tossed me onto the bed. His hands were on my feet, and as the room spun around in warped circles, he removed my stilettos.
His hands were warm and eager as he worked on removing my jeans, and before I knew it, we were both naked. I spread my legs and touched my clit. “I’m ready.” I barely recognized myownvoice.
“Oh, I know you are.” He tore open a condom packet that I hadn’t seen him get.
Corben flipped me over so I was on my hands and knees. His cock nudged my pussy, and as his hands dug into the flesh at my hips, he rammed it into me. It was fast. It was shocking.
It was so fucking good.
So good that an orgasm ripped through me that was wild, explosive, and incredible.
I clutched the sheets and hung on as Corben thrust into me again and again and again.
He was a machine, in and out, over and over, to the point where I thought thiswas never going toend. And I meant never. I was exhausted. Enough was enough. My arms couldn’t hold me a moment more, and I face-planted onto the bed.
Corben rolled me onto my back, and I let him manipulate me. He hooked his hands under my knees and dragged me toward him, aiming his cock for my pussy, and once again, he thrust that beast into me.
As I gazed up at the muscle god who was thrusting his enormous jackhammer into me, I felt like I’d slipped into some kind of magical dream.
The room gently spun around.
My eyes rolled as I tried to keep upwith it, and theneverything went black.