5. Sienna
Chapter 5
Sienna
This is quite possibly the second-worst decision I’ve ever made.
Maybe I shouldn’t be inviting strange men up to the hotel room my estranged father paid for. But I don’t care. I want a wild night of hot sex with a gorgeous stranger to make me forget.
And my god is he gorgeous. Blond hair—so dark you might almost mistake it for brown—curls adorably around his ears. He has a square jaw that I bet would clench particularly attractively when he’s angry and soft gray eyes that betray the sorrows he’s running from.
His dark suit is tight around his arms and shoulders, and I’m dying to rip his clothes off to reveal the hard, bulging muscles underneath. He’s probably an athlete, but I’m not going to ask. If he says he’s a football player, I might not be able to go through with this.
The instant he gave me that disposable camera, he reminded me of Ten, and even though it’s ridiculous, it made me feel safe with him.
He presses a hand against the door above my head, forcing me to lean back and crane my neck to meet his gaze. His heady, musky scent floods my nose and I want to wrap myself in it like a blanket. Those gray eyes are no longer soft—they’re electric.
“You sure you want to do this?” His low, rumbling voice turns the butterflies fluttering gently in my stomach into a full-blown butterfly tornado.
I’m sure as hell that I want to do this now.
I clear my throat and give a single nod. “Yes. As long as you wear a condom, I’m not looking for anything beyond getting dicked down for a night.”
His brows lift, a few shades darker than his hair, and he lets out a surprised laugh. The kind of easy laugh that tells me he used to laugh a lot once. Before whatever it is that happened to him happened.
Even though he’s a complete stranger—I literally don’t even know his name—and I don’t know the root of his pain, my heart aches for him. Juliet likes to call that my fatal flaw. I feel bad for other people too much, feel their pain as if it’s my own. It gets me into trouble.
“I don’t have a condom.” The realization dawns on him as the words leave his mouth. Despair melts him adorably.
“I do.” I duck around him and grab the giant box of condoms from my suitcase. I wanted to make sure I had a healthy supply while I’m attending Diamond University. I plan on fucking all my troubles away.
This major life change still doesn’t feel real. A new home, a new university, a new family. Although family is a stretch. I barely know my father, let alone his new wife and stepson. Who knows if they’ll even want anything to do with me.
Living in Wakefield was hell, but being here probably won’t be much better. Thank god Juliet kept her word and transferred with me. Her parents are wealthy enough to buy her speedy enrollment into Diamond University. At least having my best friend around will prevent me from plummeting into the pits of misery.
She’ll be so proud when I tell her I skipped my father’s wedding reception to fuck a stranger in my hotel room.
I didn’t intend to miss the wedding, no matter how anxious I was to attend. But my shitty car wouldn’t start, which meant I couldn’t leave until Juliet’s dad brought me a new battery. By the time I got to Diamond, the wedding was already over.
And now I’d rather have sex with a complete stranger than face my father and his new family.
The man whose dick I’m about to ride steps closer, nodding at the box of condoms in my hands. “How many guys are you planning on bringing up here tonight?”
“At least a hundred.”
He snorts and damn it, guys who get my sense of humor are my weakness. So are giant men in suits. This guy is checking all my boxes.
I shake the package of condoms. “More people come out of college with STDs than bachelor’s degrees, so I wanted to be prepared. I’m on birth control too.”
The side of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “When you prepare, you really commit. Do you go to Diamond?”
“Let’s not do the whole thing where we pretend we want to get to know each other before you’re inside me.” I crack open the box of condoms and toss one onto the bed. “Please don’t ask me my major or any of that crap. That’s not the kind of pillow talk I’m looking for.”
Silently, he saunters toward me with his hands in his pockets, and I already want to combust. What is it about men in suits that makes women go feral? If he was wearing a mask, I’d come in about ten seconds.
When he reaches me, he brushes back a strand of hair, sending goosebumps down to my toes. “What kind of pillow talk are you looking for?”
Holy fuck. Maybe I’m actually going to get lucky with this one and not have a night of mediocre, forgettable sex. “You know, the usual, vanilla stuff. Good girl, eyes on me, beg me, crawl to me, you can take it, I decide when you breathe .”
He malfunctions for a second. I’m a book girl, so of course, everyone assumes I’m as innocent as I look. He should listen to my audiobooks. His brain would melt.
When he recovers, he closes the distance between us, hooking a finger under my chin. His gray eyes are hooded with lust, and I could stare into them all day if not for the overwhelming desire to see the rest of him without clothes on. “In that case,” he murmurs, “be a good girl and take off my belt.”
My thighs clench. Oh shit . What have I unleashed?
I bat my lashes at him and smile sweetly, unfastening the buckle with embarrassingly clumsy hands. A man has never made me this flustered in my life. Normally, I’m the one taking charge and giving instructions in the bedroom. Half the time, I feel like a teacher instructing an inept student on where to find the clitoris, proper tongue techniques, and what the female orgasm actually looks and sounds and feels like, and no, it’s not impossible to tell. Certainly not impossible to tell when I come. The few miraculous times it happens with another person, I make a show of it.
Partially because it really does feel that good and partially to reward them for their efforts. The people pleaser in me never sleeps, even during the throes of ecstasy.
But this man doesn’t seem like he’ll need instruction. In fact, I hope he gives me more orders. I need a gorgeous man to boss me around in bed like I need air.
Finally, I manage to pull his belt from the final loop and drop it to the floor.
“Now the jacket.”
My heart thumps harder, and I contemplate the physics of taking the jacket off a man well over six feet tall.
“What kind of pillow talk do you like?” I purr, craning up on my toes to slide his jacket off his shoulders.
“You know, the usual, vanilla stuff. Harder, make me come, let me swallow, that’s the biggest dick I’ve ever seen, I’m coming . That kind of thing.”
Jesus . I really hope it will be the biggest dick I’ve ever seen. I’m already so turned on and he’s barely even touched me. I’m not sure if this buildup is amazing or agonizing.
Both. Definitely both.
Once I get his jacket off, I don’t wait for further instructions. I loosen the tie around his neck and slip it over his head. I’d suggest that he could tie me up with it, but maybe that’s not the smartest move with a complete stranger. I still don’t know how much I can trust him yet.
He watches with hooded eyes as my fingers free every button down the front of his shirt.
When I peel the lapels apart, I nearly gasp. This man is a work of art, hard chest and abs chiseled from marble. My palms land on his bare flesh of their own accord, grazing over the velvety soft skin.
Disturbingly, I realize I probably look like a kid discovering candy for the first time and draw back.
“Did I say you could take your hands off me?”
Fuck , that voice. I’ll beg him on my knees to narrate my favorite books if that’s what it takes. I grin. “I thought you might want my hands elsewhere.”
I drag my palm up his shaft, and holy fuck. There’s no way all of that is fitting inside me. The tip alone is wide and intimidating.
A soft, low groan of pleasure rumbles from deep in his throat. My stomach somersaults. I will do anything to get him to make that sound again.
“Take those off,” he hisses, nodding at my tights like me still being fully clothed in front of him is agonizing. I know the feeling.
Maybe in the darkness, he won’t notice the bruises from where Marcus and his friends kicked me in the legs. As long as I leave my dress on, he won’t see the worst of it.
He tracks every centimeter as I slide my tights down. I’m already so wet and ready for him.
“Now the dress.”
I reach for the fly on his pants instead. “I’d like to keep it on, actually.” I’m sure he won’t care once his dick is in my mouth.
He steps out of my grasp. “I didn’t follow you up here because I didn’t want to see you naked. Now be a good girl and strip for me.”
Well, shit. It’s hard to argue with a man who says horny shit like that. Not to mention it’s almost impossible for me to deny anyone their request. If it’s what they want, if it’s what will make them happy, if they’ll like me more because of it, I’ll do it.
“It’s not a pretty sight,” I warn him. If he’s too turned off to have sex with me because of my bruises, I’ll revolt.
He glowers at me, but there’s a playful edge. I’m not sure if he’s normally like this in the bedroom or if he’s just indulging me. Either way, I’ll take it. “If you don’t take that dress off now, I will.”
Screw it, if he wants the dress off, I’ll take it off. If the bruise on my face didn’t send him running, I’m sure a few more won’t.
I strip off the dress, down to my strapless bra and panties in front of him. Yet I feel completely nude under his burning gaze.
A muscle in his jaw feathers as his gaze lands on the constellation of bruises. I was right—he is incredibly sexy when he’s angry.
His voice is low and dangerous. “Who did this to you?”
My heart stops. He’s just met me, and he already looks like he would burn the world down for me.
“I told you. I f?—”
“Don’t say you fell.” His warning is sharp.
Realistically, I know a total stranger can’t possibly care about me, but he almost convinces me he does. “What does it matter what happened? You can’t do anything about it.”
The wrong thing to say. His eyes cloud, and I’m about to fuck up this whole one-night stand before I even get him inside me.
“I’m fine now,” I reassure him. “I’m safe.”
Except I don’t think I’ll ever be safe, no matter how far I run.
He steps so close, our chests nearly brush. Well, my chest and his abdomen. “Was it a boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “No. Not an ex either. Or a parent. They’re miles away, and there’s no point in talking about them anymore. Especially since we’re strangers and we’ll never see each other again. So maybe we can stop talking about this and you can fuck me now?”
I invited him up here to forget, not to rehash all of the shit that brought me here in the first place.
Lust glazes his features again. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready to fuck you.”
Judging by the erection that’s as hard as a rock in his pants, I would’ve assumed he’s as ready to fuck me as he’ll ever be. Instead of flinging me onto the bed or guiding me to my knees to blow him, he drops to his own.
The sight of this enormous, sculpted man on his knees before me makes my heart skip. His wide, veiny hands slip around to the small of my back, calloused palms anchoring me in place as his lips brush against my stomach.
Against one of my bruises.
A casual one-night stand shouldn’t make my chest squeeze painfully, but with every brush of his lips against my bruises, he does. My stomach, my ribs, my thighs, my shins. I shiver despite the burning heat of desire pumping through my veins.
My eyes sting at his tenderness, and I quickly blink back the tears because there’s no way in hell I’m ruining this night by crying. I’ve never been more desperate to have a man inside me than this one, and I’m not going to screw it up.
His kisses are featherlight, yet each one sets me on fire. I want his mouth on mine.
When he rises and kisses the bruise on my shoulder, I grab his face and pull him to me.
Our lips meet in an unexpectedly gentle caress. I’m used to men only wanting to give me a few quick pecks or immediately sticking their tongues in my mouth.
But he’s different. Like his lips are hugging mine. Reassuring them that they’re here and they’re not going anywhere.
Except when I moan and his mouth turns feral.
He grabs my jaw with both hands and tugs me closer, lips roaming over mine and exploring, tasting, luxuriating. He just had his first taste of chocolate and now he’s going to inhale the entire box.
I’ve never failed to make a man come before, but this is the first time I’ve ever made a man devour me.
When he finally fists my hair and tugs my head back, exposing my neck to him, I whimper.
That unleashes him entirely.
He sucks on my neck, turning me to liquid in his arms. My knees are so weak, I can barely stay upright without hanging onto his huge biceps for dear life.
For the first time, my sounds aren’t exaggerated for a man’s benefit. Every moan and whimper and hiss that he wrings from me is a direct result of his expert mouth and hands on my skin.
He keeps one hand fisted in my hair while he leaves hickeys on my neck, and the other hand drifts to my panties.
My breath hitches. His finger trails along the waistband, goosebumps springing up at the contact.
“Are you going to tell me your name before I’m inside you?”
I’ll tell him my name, my address, my date of birth, my social security number if it means getting him inside me now?—
No. I need to get my shit together. “Let’s keep it a mystery.” I’m already embarrassingly breathless. “I don’t want you stalking me on social media after this and begging me to marry you.”
Not that I’m on social media anyway, but he doesn’t need to know that.
I want sex, not a relationship. Plenty of guys think all they want is a fuck buddy, but most of them end up getting attached and wanting more. Or when you get bored and break it off with them, they take it fine at first until they’re crawling back three months later when they can’t get the memories of coming inside you out of their head.
But relationships aren’t for me. They always end in heartbreak. Since the divorce, I had to watch man after man break my mom’s already fragile heart. I picked up the pieces every time and reminded her to bathe and eat. I’ve witnessed the consequences of relationships, and I won’t put myself through that. Sex is enough to satisfy me, and if I can’t get that, some altruistic genius invented vibrators.
“Don’t worry.” He smirks, cradling my hips. “I won’t stalk you on social media.”
I shouldn’t find it insulting that a man who barely knows me doesn’t want to be in a relationship with me, especially when I don’t want one, but I can’t help the way my spine stiffens.
“I’ll have you know, I’m great at riding cock, and I’ll definitely have you on one knee proposing by the end of the night.”
“Prove it.”
Before I can say another word, he grabs my ass and hoists me into the air. I squeal as he tosses me onto the bed.
He doesn’t follow me. Instead, he takes off his pants and boxers, and it’s my turn to watch every move he makes.
When he’s fully naked in front of me, my mouth goes dry. Yeah, there’s no way he’s getting every inch inside of me. I’m a nursing student—I know the vagina only stretches to a maximum of eight inches when aroused.
But he can damn well try.
He climbs onto the bed with me, but he doesn’t rip my panties off and slam inside me. Not yet. His enormous hands tug my strapless bra up over my head, and his throat bobs when he stares at my tits.
Why does every look from this man light me on fire?
He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you almost didn’t let me see you like this.” His murmur is the quietest I’ve heard him yet. “You’re more than a pretty sight. Way, way fucking more.”
My turn to swallow the lump in my throat.
He sits with his back against the headboard and pulls me onto his lap to straddle him. But he’s still not ready to fuck me. His hands drift lazily up to my breasts as if we have all the time in the world and not one night together. When he squeezes my tits, I gasp and he bites his lip. “Mmm. These are incredible.”
A man has never revered my body like this. I’m starting to realize the stranger I invited up to my room may not be like any other man I’ve ever met.
Sometimes, I imagine meeting Ten would go something like this. I have no idea what he looks like beneath his mask or if we’d even get along in person as well as we get along through text, but when it’s just me and my vibrator, I like to imagine Ten and I would finally meet in person, he’d be the most attractive man I’d ever seen, and we’d find somewhere semi-private to fuck each other’s brains out. Not that I’d ever admit that to him. We’re friends and that’s all we’ve ever been. We’ve never turned our conversations sexual or even romantic. Though we’ve never explicitly discussed why, we both value our friendship more than sexting and neither of us wants to do anything to screw it up.
Except I haven’t heard from him since I mentioned my father’s wedding and I’m starting to wonder if I did something to piss him off. He never goes more than twenty-four hours without responding to me, even during hockey season. But I can’t shake the feeling that he’s ignoring me, and I don’t know what I did wrong or how to fix it.
The man I’m straddling wraps his lips around my hard nipple and I shove thoughts of Ten out of my head. I can’t be thinking of him when I’m literally about to fuck another guy.
He sucks my nipple, making my eyes roll as I claw at his hair. “I can’t wait to taste you everywhere.”
Holy shit. Every word out of this man’s mouth turns me to molten lava. “You don’t have to do that,” I gasp. “I’m plenty wet.”
“I know you are,” he growls, grinding my pussy against his cock, my panties the only thing separating us. I cry out when his tip hits my clit. Yeah, it’s not going to take me long to come at all. Not with him. “But I want you dripping for me.”
I rock my hips, desperate to relieve the growing ache between my legs. “Do whatever you want,” I pant before quickly adding, “Within reason. I mean?—”
Thank god, he stops my blabbering, flipping me onto my back and kissing, sucking, and nibbling his way slowly down my body like he’s entranced by every inch. I jerk and writhe beneath him.
When his head is between my thighs, he murmurs, “You’re going to love this, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart . It’s not good girl , but it’s somehow better. Especially with that slight Southern accent, barely noticeable for anyone not fixated on his every sound. Or maybe every word out of this man’s mouth is better by default. He could probably read a grocery list and turn me on.
“You seriously don’t have to,” I offer one last time.
Most guys like to get in and get out during a hookup, especially a one-time thing like this. Guys only care about getting you off if they care about you, and most of them don’t have the patience or the endurance to go down on a girl long enough to make her come. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s always taken me forever to get there because no man has ever turned me on this much before.
His brows furrow now, but he keeps his head between my legs, the flimsy fabric of my panties the only layer separating us. “You’re not making me. I want to lick your pussy until you come.”
My god. Why can’t every man be as direct and pornographic as this one? Thank god he’s the one I met at the hotel bar tonight and not some other schmuck who would have no doubt disappointed me.
While his fingers trace my panty line, making me gulp, his eyes blaze. “Are you going to try to stop me again? Or are you going to be a good girl and take it?”
I shake my head quickly. “I’m not going to stop you.”
Some crazy part of me trusts him enough to tell him he can do whatever he wants to me, but the much smaller, smarter part of my brain chastises the horny part for even considering it.
If this was more than a one-night stand, maybe I would. If he was my fuck buddy, I’d be on his cock three times a day, just to experience all the different ways he would fuck me. After the way he kissed my bruises and demanded to know who left them on my body, he might even be boyfriend material. If that’s something I wanted.
Juliet would probably date him, but I’d die of jealousy knowing the incredible foreplay she’s experiencing on a daily basis while I’m stuck getting jackhammered by fumbling, inebriated frat bros.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, drawing my panties to the side and baring my pussy to him. He hisses sharply, and I freeze. “You’re perfect .”
My pussy has definitely never been called perfect before. I nearly blurt that he’s perfect, but if that doesn’t scream this-girl-is-going-to-stalk-me, I don’t know what does. So all I squeak out is “Thank you.”
His head drifts closer, his soft breath hitting the wetness pooling between my legs. I stop breathing as I brace for contact.
But instead of licking me, he blows softly on my pussy.
I jerk, gasping at the unexpected pleasure from a little air. Jesus . It’s like I’ve never experienced human touch before. Every move this man makes sets me on fire. By the end of this, I’m going to be a burnt husk in front of him.
He chuckles softly, getting far too much enjoyment out of my reactions.
“When I finally lick your pussy”—He kisses my thigh—“are you going to scream for me?”
I’ve never screamed in bed before. Moaned, yes, whimpered, yes, but never screamed. Yet I am fully convinced that I’m going to scream when this man finally makes me come. I’ve never been wound so tight with sexual tension in my life. My screams will probably bring the entire hotel crumbling down. “I might.”
“Mmm. Let’s find out.” Without any more preamble, his tongue flicks against my clit.
I cry out, back arching. Fuck . This is exactly what I need. Him. I need more of him. Like air. More than air. “Holy fuck!”
His tongue digs against my clit harder before swirling. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I cling to his hair, loving that it’s long enough to tug on. He lets me pull him closer, pressing his mouth harder against me.
When he dips a finger inside me, I cry out again at the stretch, at the exquisite feeling of being filled, and he groans. That sound alone is almost enough to make me shatter.
“ Jesus .” His groan is agonized. “You’re fucking soaked.”
“I know,” I gasp. “You did this to me.”
He chuckles. “I’m going to do a lot more.” He groans again when he slips a second finger inside me. My eyes sting from the stretch and I tug so hard on his hair, I’m vaguely worried that I’m going to yank clumps from his scalp. “You’re so tight.”
“I’m not sure how much you’ll be able to fit inside me,” I warn.
“We’ll make it fit.” His tongue returns to my clit before he wraps his lips around it and sucks.
Stars explode in my head, and I’m gasping and moaning as he sucks my clit hard and pumps his fingers inside me.
The orgasm comes on so fast, I don’t have time to brace for it. My pussy throbs hard once, twice around his fingers before pleasure barrels through me.
Electricity bursts along my spine. I scream, just as he predicted, back arching and hands pushing his head to escape the overwhelming pleasure. But he doesn’t ease up. His mouth only sucks my clit harder as he continues thrusting his fingers inside me through every wave of my orgasm.
I’m torn between begging him to stop and begging him to never stop.
The pressure from his mouth starts to lessen and the pumps of his fingers slow as I come down from my orgasm, heart still pounding. My mind is buzzing, but there are no thoughts in my head. Exactly what I wanted.
But about a thousand times better than I could’ve ever anticipated.
He slips the condom on while I recover. I expect him to return and fuck my limp body before he comes in three pumps, but instead, he sits with his back against the headboard and picks me up like I’m a pillow, dropping me onto his lap. His hard length presses against my pussy.
“If you wanted me to ride you, you should’ve thought about that before you made me come so hard, I lost all motor function.” My arms are too weak to lift, and my legs are jelly.
“All I want is for you to let me fuck you.”
My pounding heart skips. “That’s all I want too. Please do it. Please fuck me.” I grind against his cock in emphasis.
His low chuckle makes my thighs clench. “I’ve never really liked dirty talk before, but I do with you.”
I wrap a hand around his shaft, stroking. God, he’s enormous. “If you fuck me, I’ll indulge you in all the dirty talk you want.”
His gray eyes hood. “Put my cock inside you, sweetheart.”
I smirk when he hisses as I grind his tip against my clit first. He made me suffer in anticipation, so the least I can do is return the favor.
I rub his tip down my slit, spreading my wetness over the condom before slowly sinking onto him.
My breath hitches, every muscle in my body stiffening at the burning stretch. I’ve barely gotten his tip inside me and I already feel so full.
His hands tighten on my hips. “Take it like a good girl.”
I try to be a good girl, I really do. But when I sink lower and lower until finally reaching the point that I can’t take any more, I reach down and find that I can still wrap my hand around the rest of his cock.
He smirks. “You’ve got a few inches to go, sweetheart.”
“Some things are impossible and getting your entire dick inside me is one of them.”
He shakes his head, fisting my hair like he did earlier, sending tingles of anticipation skittering down my spine. “You can take it.”
With that, he yanks my hair back and drives his cock up into me.
A scream rips from my throat almost as loud as when he was making me come, and his thumb circles my clit wildly, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body to loosen my taut muscles and stretch my pussy for him.
My nails bite into his bare shoulders, and I cry out when he thrusts into me again, the bursts of pleasure making my head grow lighter and eyes cross.
He circles an arm around my back to anchor me in place as he repositions us with his legs under him to give him some leverage. He thrusts into me once, twice, panting against my shoulder. “Bounce on my cock.”
His order is breathless, desperate, so I muster up as much strength as I can and rock my hips up before slamming back down.
We both moan, hearts pounding against each other’s chests.
I’m not sure why he wants to keep me on top instead of just flipping me on my back and finishing this in two seconds, but I’ll happily go along with it. This angle is so deep and surprisingly intimate for two complete strangers, our bodies entwined and pressed flush together, our breaths mingling and his gaze boring into mine.
We fuck like two people who’ve known each other for a lifetime, not like two strangers who don’t even know the other’s name.
Whoever he is, he is no mortal man. He’s a god.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he pants as I bounce on his cock faster. A warning and a plea.
I clutch him to me to breathe the dirty words in his ear. “I want to feel your cock throb when you come inside me.”
His groan is abrupt and sharp, eyes rolling as the pleasure overtakes him. The arm around my back anchors me in place as I keep rocking against him, and I yelp when his cock gives a hard throb inside me. “ Fuck .”
Even though most guys stop thrusting when they come, he doesn’t stop me from rocking against him as he spills into the condom.
My movements get slower and slower, coming down from his orgasm with him as he did for me.
We’re both sweaty and breathless, panting and clinging to each other.
Holy shit . That just happened. I just had the best sex of my life with a total stranger.
Too bad this is nothing more than a one-night stand. I could do this over and over, at least five times a day until I die.
He inhales a deep breath, and for some reason, just listening to this man breathe is sexy. “That’s the hardest I’ve ever come in my life.”
My chest floods with pride. He doesn’t know it, but I have a major praise kink. My praise kink and my mask kink are forever at war over the horny part of my brain. “Me too.”
I’ve lied to make someone feel good about themselves before. To spare their feelings. Chronic people pleasers are notorious liars. We lie like we breathe air.
But I’m not lying now. That seriously was the hardest I’ve ever come in my life. The worst part is that’s probably the last time I’ll ever come that hard.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with heartbreaking tenderness. “I knew this is how it would be with you.”
I smirk, even as his words make my heart skip. “And when did you come to that conclusion? In the five minutes we spent getting to know each other before leaving for my hotel room?”
“Something like that.”
In the ensuing silence filled only by our breathing, a ringtone blares from his pants on the floor.
I climb off him, immediately slipping under the covers. Reality hits us like a bucket of cold water as he slides out of bed, ditching the condom in the trash and checking his phone. “Shit. I better take this.”
“No problem. Thank you for—” What the hell do I thank him for? Making me come? Fucking me? Making me forget for an hour the shitstorm my life has become? The longest I’ve gotten to forget in months. Finally, I manage, “Hanging out.”
He gives me a small smile. “No problem.” He quickly slips on his pants and shirt, not bothering with the buttons before he tosses his suit jacket over his shoulder and heads for the door. God, he’s so sexy. A more beautiful man has never left my bedroom. He turns back to give me one final smirk. “Thanks for letting me...hang out.”
I smile at the easy way he teases me. Being with him is easy. Easier than being with anybody else I’ve ever met.
Too bad.