Chapter 5
TOMáS
“Interesting,” my mystery woman hums. “You don’t strike me as the body shot type.”
That’s an accurate assumption. I can’t recall the last time I’ve done one. Probably because this is the first time it’s ever crossed my mind to.
I shrug. “I guess I felt inspired. What can I say?”
“It was the punch, wasn’t it?”
Yes.
God, yes.
Seeing her sock that guy in the jaw, without flinching and with such precision, awoke something in me. Something so strong that it led to where we’re at now. With her lying still, sprawled out on the bar, ready for me to lick, drink, and suck from.
“Maybe.”
With the bar towel draped over her chest and belly button exposed, waiting for me, I feel suddenly uncertain if I’m truly capable of the self-control I have to exhibit right now.
“You’re just full of surprises.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Not at all.”
The bartender places a sliced lemon in her mouth before pouring an even shot into her belly button. “Remember, sugar, vodka, lemon. Lick, drink, suck. Cheers, you lucky bastard.”
She’s right, I’m very fucking lucky.
With the alcohol hanging in the balance of her navel, I feel like my every move is in slow motion.
My tongue drags up the side of her neck, the same way I would if I were licking up her slit. Judging from the faint whimper escaping those lips of hers that —she’s trying so hard to keep pressed together— I think it’s safe to say that her imagination is linked with mine.
I take my time working my way to her stomach, ignoring the onlookers who are oohing and aahing at us. I don’t blame them. I mean, I may be new to this but I’m well aware that it’s not customary to be peppering a trail of kisses from one’s neck down to their stomach all to take a shot.
Finally, I center myself at her belly button.
With my gaze focused on hers, I lower my mouth to suck in the alcohol.
Midway through emptying the booze into my mouth, her back arches up off the bar’s surface.
My hands find her hips, anchoring myself to her as I move with her, drinking in every last drop.
At this point, the small crowd that has formed around us has escalated to loud cheering and clapping, with some chanting, “Lemon,” but I tune them out.
I couldn’t pay them any mind, even if I wanted to.
The blood rushing to my groin is borderline painful.
As I approach her mouth, she stills. The lemon hangs in the balance of her lips, waiting for me to inch closer to complete the last part of the body shot.
Time slows as our lips meet and I begin to suck the tart juice.
Nerves and all, it’s in this moment that I realize this is the most fun I’ve had — and the most turned on I’ve been —in a long time, and I have her to thank for that.
As soon as my mouth leaves hers, she springs up to adjust her dress, discarding the bar towel she used as a covering, at what feels like lightning speed.
“Now is the tab taken care of?” she asks, sounding mildly breathless.
“Yes.”
“Good, because I don’t think I can wait any longer.
” She slings her purse onto her shoulder and places her hand in mine.
It’s loud in here, but not too loud that I’d miss what she whispers next.
“I need to see if your dick is as big as the energy it gives off. All signs are pointing to yes, but until I see and feel for myself, I can’t be too sure. ”
“Okay, but not before I take my time with you and get you where you need to be first.”
Shock propels her eyes forward.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me. There’s a lot I want to learn about you still, and I’m not one for rushing.”
I was wrong before, because whatever this is —or is about to be— has the potential for a lot to go wrong. Yet somehow, despite every fiber of my being urging me to stop while I’m ahead and turn the fuck around…I can’t. I don’t want to.
No longer engulfed in the lively chaos of the bar she took us to, we are now standing at the head of a narrow hallway, with her leading the way.
Taking advantage of our interlaced hands, I gently reel her into me.
She loses her footing just a bit, yet her movements still manage to be graceful as we move in perfect synchrony, crashing into one another.
My free hand finds her lower back, steadying her as she barrels into my chest with her head falling to my collar.
Resting there for a moment as if it’s a pillow that was made for her head to find solace in.
Once again, we find ourselves in a bubble of our own making. And now that her head is tilted up, with her gaze in my direction, those ocean-hued eyes peering up at me make me feel like I’m under a spell.
Still, I feel this annoying need to do my due diligence.
It’s obvious that there’s history between her and whoever that guy was at Luxe.
I not only saw it in her eyes. I felt it.
Not to mention the way he smirked when I said I was her husband.
I knew he didn’t buy it. Yet in his amusement he played along.
I meant what I said earlier to Trent, marriage is a commitment that should not only be cherished, but one that should be treated with the utmost respect.
I don’t cheat, and I refuse to ever be the other man to anyone.
For my own peace of mind, I need to make sure that despite her vacant ring finger, she’s truly single, or free of any commitment that would prevent me from doing what my body is begging me to do… make her mine for the night.
“I need to ask you something,” I blurt out.
She pouts her lips. “I was hoping we could do something that doesn’t require any questions… or talking for that matter.”
I don’t know what’s sexier, her or that bold and feisty mouth of hers. I like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to say it. It’s a fucking turn on.
“You don’t need to tell me who that guy is if you don’t want to. I just need to make sure that he’s or anyone else isn’t your…”
“Husband?”
I nod my head, needing her response almost as strongly as I fear it.
“No, he’s not.”
“Thank fuck.” I sigh in relief.
“Besides, the last time I checked, you are, silly.” She winks. “Any other questions you’d like to ask me?”
Anticipation like I’ve never experienced before grabs hold of me, causing my heart rate to accelerate as a slew of questions filter through my head.
Ranging from asking what her favorite way to come is, or how many times she’s come in succession so I can break her record.
But I can’t vocalize even one of them. I’m too enamored by her to speak now that I have the answer I needed.
“I’ll take that as a no. Good. So now that we have that out of the way...” Her voice drifts as she leads the way down the hallway.
We move in silence until her back is pressed against a nondescript door past the bathrooms. She reaches behind her with her free hand, turning the doorknob, and before I know it, we are where I’ve wanted to be from the second I laid eyes on her. Alone.
We continue to move as one, with her leading the way into a dimly lit room. I can’t take my eyes off her.
I couldn’t look away if I wanted to, and lucky for me I don’t have to.
Ornate gold framed mirrors in a variety of sizes clutter my periphery.
Even the ceiling isn’t exempt from the reflective halo of the space.
The room we’re in offers me a view of not only how good she looks at every angle, but how good we look together.
“Do you like what you see?” She points to the backdrop of mirrors we’re standing amongst. But they are just that, a backdrop, an afterthought to the beauty I’m standing next to.
“Very much.”
“I meant the room,” she deflects, gesturing to the mirrors around us.
“You asked me if I liked what I see, and as far as I’m concerned, the only thing in this room worth my attention is you. And for the mirrors, they’re nice.”
“That’s it? Just nice?” She seems surprised and almost insulted that I don’t have more to say about them.
“On second thought, they’re perfect.”
That seems to appease her more.
“I mean, how could they not be? They’re everywhere, which means I can see how beautiful you look satisfied from every angle.”
Ease melts over her shoulders, softening them, as there’s a newfound pep in her tone.
“You know, Mr. Armani.” Fucking Christ, even this nickname she has for me is driving me wild.
“You sound very confident. I hope you have the skills to back that confidence up, because you’ve had my panties soaked from the second you swooped in to save the day. ”
“That was nothing. I only did what I needed to.”
“Well, it’s more than most have done. If ever,” she huffs, vulnerability shaking her tone.
“No one has protected you before? I find that hard to believe.”
She shakes her head, as if she’s brushing off thoughts she’d rather keep at bay.
“Well, believe it. Who cares, you’re not here to listen to me recite my autobiography.
Even if you were, trust me, there’s not enough time in the day to go through the litany of things I’ve dealt with.
And as much as I appreciate your need to protect me, right now I don’t want to be saved. I want to be…”
“Savored.” I finish her sentence for her.
Standing behind her, I drape my arms around her.
“Yes,” she breathes, latching onto my arm. “I’d like that for a change.”
“Then let me do that for you,” I say, more than willing to be what she needs, even if it’s just for the evening.