Chapter 40
Big dick energy has never looked so hot
Harley
Iwaltz inside the Evangelista Lounge, and my step falters.
Woah.
My feet were rooted to the marble for a long time when I was downstairs admiring the breathtaking results of the recent renovations of this hotel. The elegant and sophisticated décor that welcomed me in the lobby extends to this lounge.
I shake out of my stupor and make my way to the bar.
My eyes widen at the showstopping displays of orchids in rectangular vases sitting at opposite ends of the bar.
Spectacular.
I would’ve sold my soul to have the Bymark Hotel as a client when I had my corporate floral business.
It’s the here and now, Harl.
There are a few men sitting alone at the bar, but only one of them has an empty stool next to him. When he turns his head to the side and exposes his gorgeous profile, I smile.
I stride across the lounge, soaking up the vibe.
Thirty-dollar drinks, sixty-dollar appetizers, and twenty-dollar desserts weren’t part of my reality when I was barely scraping by.
I guess it is now.
I tap on my role-playing partner’s shoulder.
He turns around.
“Hi.” I dial up my smile. “Is the seat next to you taken?”
He gives me a languorous onceover. “It isn’t.”
“Lucky me.”
“No, lucky me.”
“Well, you know how to make a girl feel special.”
“Stick around, princess, I’m just getting my engine revved up.”
I move to the stool and hitch my little body on it.
In a city where multimillionaires and multibillionaires abound, there’s no shortage of men in suits in New York, but none of them scream suit porn like the blue-eyed god sitting next to me.
My fake boyfriend selected a light gray suit that is no doubt bespoke. The H cufflinks adorning his white shirt elevate an already impeccable suit to cover model levels. I’ve spotted the same ones from Hermes on Ciara’s husband. I guess they’re a must-have accessory in a rich dude’s wardrobe.
My gaze travels up.
His hair, that usually looks like he’s run his fingers through it too many times in frustration, is neatly combed. His 5 o’clock shadow is so tempting, I want to feel the burn of it between my thighs.
“Are you objectifying me?” He arches a brow.
Yes, I am. “I was appreciating the fact that serendipity made it so I’m seated next to a man who wears a suit like he was born in one.”
He looks over his shoulder. “Plenty of other guys in suits in this lounge.”
“Really?” I frown. “There are other men here?” I shrug. “Hadn’t noticed.”
His lips part in a slow smile.
Wow.
It’s the second time since moving in with him that he’s graced me with such a precious gift.
“Watch it, buddy. You might knock me off my seat with that dazzling smile.”
Said smile grows wider.
A waitress appears. “Can I get you anything, ma’am?”
“I’ll have a French 75, please.”
“Coming right up,” she says. “Would you like another one, sir?”
Kaz gulps down the remainder of his drink. “Yes, please.”
With that, she’s off.
“What’s in a French 75?”
I drop my clutch on the bar and use my hand to enumerate each ingredient. “Sparkling wine, gin, lemon juice, and a dash of simple sugar. A lounge like this one would probably use champagne instead of sparkling wine.”
“You have a fancy palate.”
“That’s a bold statement considering you don’t even know me… yet.”
“Let’s remedy that unfortunate situation. I’m Beckham,” he says. “What’s your name?”
“McKenzie.”
He extends a hand and I shake it.
“Pleased to meet you,” he says.
“Same.”
We hold each other’s gaze for a long beat, and I topple head first into the ocean of endless abyss of gorgeousness that are his eyes. I could float there for an eternity.
The waitress returns with our drinks.
We thank her.
She nods and moves to the other side of the bar.
I take a small sip of my drink.
“Is it to your liking?”
“It is,” I say. “Have you ever had a French 75?”
“Until a few minutes ago, I didn’t even know that was a drink.”
“Do you want to try?”
“If you don’t mind?”
I slide my drink towards him.
“Thank you.” He turns the glass so the imprint of my lipstick faces him.
He lifts the drink and takes a sip by placing his lips over the imprint of mine.
I arch both brows.
Why was that simple act sexual?
He drops the glass on the bar. “It isn’t what I expected.”
I frown.
“What?”
“You’re wearing my lipstick.”
“That was intentional,” he says. “It was my subtle way of touching my lips against yours.” He licks his stained lips.
“You’re bold and fearless.”
“I’m a straight shooter in everything I do, McKenzie.”
I shift in my seat. My eager lady parts approve of that statement.
“Let me wipe that off.” I reach for his lips, but he snatches my wrist.
“I haven’t given you permission to touch me, little one.”
The warning in his voice sends flurries of tingles straight to my clit.
I’m caught off guard.
His gaze drops to my mouth for a beat and the muscle in his jaw flexes.
We lock eyes onto each other for several heart-pounding breaths until I lower my hand. What I read in his gaze disarms me. Desire. Want. Need.
“Good girl.”
Holy alpha daddy.
He picks up a napkin and wipes my lipstick off his lips.
I take a long gulp of my drink to cool down my lady parts.
“I hope you don’t think it’s too forward of me, but it must be said,” he says. “You look stunning in that dress. That color on a gorgeous blonde like you could stop traffic. The bright shade brings out the gold in your pretty green eyes.”
I blush.
My time with Judith was brief. She had selected four outfits, but this sexy combo is the first one I tried and when I stepped out of the dressing room, her wide eyes told the whole story.
“You’re full of compliments,” I say from under my lashes.
“It would be a crime punishable by death if I didn’t acknowledge such beauty.”
Oh, he’s good.
I turn on my seat so I’m facing him. “Under these lights, the blue matches your eyes.”
The ocean-blue sequined pareo skirt that hits below the knee and ties up at the front of the waist combined with the silk sleeveless tank top with a sexy deep V in a matching shade, the designer silver strappy heels, silver clutch, and white gold hoop earrings with diamonds make me feel like I have ten million dollars stashed in my bank account.
“I’m flattered,” he says.
He takes a sip of whatever liquid he has floating in his tumbler.
I enjoy a little more of my drink.
“Let me guess,” he says. “You had a hard week, and now you need to let some steam off.”
“You’re close.” I place my glass on the countertop.
“Why don’t you fill in the blanks.”
I cross my legs, making sure to hold my skirt so I don’t show any skin above the knee.
His gaze drops.
When his eyes lock onto mine again, the temperature in this lounge has risen by one hundred degrees.
“Last weekend, I discovered my boyfriend was cheating on me,” I say.
“I kicked him out. On top of that, I had a brutal week, so I decided to treat myself to an expensive drink. On that front, you were right.” I open my arms to encompass the room.
“If I’m going to step out, why not do it at an expensive hotel where I’m guaranteed to rub elbows with beautiful people. ”
“You don’t sound heartbroken.”
“If I’m honest with myself, Beckham, catching him cheating on me was a relief. The relationship wasn’t going anywhere. We had been living like roommates for far too long.”
“How did you catch him cheating on you?”
“He sent me a text that was clearly meant for someone else—his lover.” I shrug. “Good riddance.”
“The romance had fizzled out?”
“He used the excuse of working late and not wanting to disturb me when he got home to sleep on the couch. That had become his bed for the last six months. Lying, cheating scumbag.”
He leans in close.
His expensive cologne drifts to my nostrils, along with a copious dose of pheromones.
“Six long months of celibacy is an eternity,” he says low, the rumble of his deep voice ratcheting my horniness.
I pull away. “In this day and age, a girl needs a BOB—or a collection of them––for when she hits a dry spell.”
“Bob?”
“Battery operated boyfriend.”
“I see.” He nods. “Were things hot and heavy between you and your boyfriend before they turned cold?”
“For the first four months, it was exciting, but the moment we moved in together…” I sigh. “Everything between us became boring. And then I find out in the year we’ve been living together, he’d been cheating on me for six months.”
“One year of predictable sex and now you have to rely on BOB?”
“Pretty much.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Of all the bars, restaurants, and lounges in the city, you ended up in this one, sitting right next to me.” He pauses, his gaze boring into mine. “Right next to the man that can solve your problem.”
My eyes widen. “I don’t follow.”
He leans close until his lips touch my earlobe. “McKenzie, you need to be properly fucked.” His voice is doused in whiskey.
Maybe I need to douse my body in whiskey to cool my lady parts down.
“I don’t care how expensive or what the manufacturer promises, there isn’t a BOB out there that can rival what I’m packing.”
Damn.
He scoots his stool closer so our seats, thighs, and arms touch.
He turns his head in my direction, pins an elbow on the bar top, and places a hand in front of his mouth as a shield.
“Forget about ending a dry spell. I want to ride you so hard, you’ll lose your voice for the coming week because you’ll be screaming out my name at the top of your lungs as I make you come over, and over, and over again. ”
I scan behind the bar, searching for any waiter privy to this salacious conversation. They’re all busy slinging drinks and chatting to patrons to pay us any mind.
I press a hand over my chest to catch my breath.
“Fair warning, if you take me up on my offer, don’t expect to walk straight because I’ll be pounding your sweet pussy until I break you.”
I close my eyes as I swallow a moan.
“I want to ravish your sinful body in every possible position, against every surface of my hotel room, until the night sky transforms to dawn. I don’t want to leave an inch of you untouched.”
His breath is warm against my ear, his husky voice doing things to me.
“When I’m done with you, I’ll not have only ruined you for any other man, but I’ll have turned you into an addict. A junkie who gets off on my cock. A submissive who needs a real man to take charge. A hot little lover who lives to please me.”
My panties erupt in flames and my pussy is on the verge of liquefying into a pool of lava, and ruining the carpet at my feet.
I swear, the A/C in this swanky lounge must be faulty.
I swipe above my upper lip and fan myself.
“Too hot to handle?”
Way too hot to handle.
The way he just dangled that in the air… like candy. I’d be crazy to refuse the joyride he’s promising.
“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” I say.
“That wasn’t my question.”
I clear my throat. “It sounds like you could give BOB a run for its money.”
“I can guarantee you’ll set your collection of BOBs on fire right after you ride my throbbing crotch rocket.”
Cheesy and clever.
I can’t help my laugh.
He winks. “I want to make you feel good.”
He adjusts his tie as he studies me with the focus of a man plotting world domination.
I guess body domination is more apropos.
“Make up for all the pleasure you’ve been robbed of because you were with a man who failed you.”
I know it’s all pretend—part of the role playing—but that doesn’t prevent my toes from curling in pleasure in my strappy heels.
“That’s a big promise,” I say.
“Here’s the thing about me, McKenzie, I always—always—overdeliver.”
I stare at him, my pulse pounding.
I’m so aroused, I could climb into his lap and grind against him like a cat in heat until I come.
He reaches inside the pocket of his jacket, pulls out a hotel card, holds it between us before dropping it on the bar countertop. He slides it towards me. “What will it be? Beckham? Or BOB?”
His sexual magnetism has been off the charts from day one, but this evening, it’s at Richter scale levels.
“One thing to keep in mind,” he says, “BOB doesn’t have a tongue or fingers…”
“Good point,” I say, enjoying the heat between my thighs.
“Oh, and not forgetting the all-important nose, of course.”
“The nose?”
He nods. “A man who truly knows what he’s doing, uses his nose to the lady’s advantage.
If he’s eating your pussy and you’re not feeling his nose jammed in there, nudging at your aching clit, while his tongue’s buried deep and he’s sliding two fingers in and out of your sweet ass, then he’s not doing it right. ” He taps his nose. “Trust me.”
An electrical current sizzles through me, lighting up every nerve ending.
I grab the card, open my clutch, and drop it inside.
I meet his gaze. “You had me at the promise of what you’re packing. Everything after that was like pouring chocolate sauce on top of a decadent hot chocolate fudge cake.”
His lips break into a smile so blinding, I swear it’s enough to knock me up.