12. Gwen #2
My brain screams for me to ignore his order, but my traitorous body obeys. I swing my hips side to side, adding more sway to them than I did before while dancing with Trey.
“Such a good girl.”
Flashes of Lance growling the same words as he pressed his chest into my back and pounded into me from behind make my sex weep and flutter.
I raise my arms above my head and circle them around the back of his neck, running my fingers over his sensitive skin. A move I know he likes. He grunts something unintelligible under his breath as he undulates his body to the beat of the music and in perfect sync with mine.
Lance slowly dances us into the dark corner of the club. Not wanting to cause a scene, and curious to understand what the hell is happening, I keep up the charade and continue to dance as he pushes me against the wall, sandwiching me in.
“Are you trying to make me jealous by dancing with him?” Lance asks as we move side to side.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Weren’t you just in the VIP room with random women sitting on your lap?”
“Is my little witch jealous?”
Little witch. A shiver runs through me.
“No, you’re a free man. You can do whatever and whomever you like. As can I.”
Removing my hands from around his neck, I place them on the cool wall in front of me and shove my ass into his dick. I swivel my hips as seductively as I can. He groans, and I can feel his hard cock beneath the fabric of his jeans.
Only two thin pieces of clothing separate us from each other.
“Is that what you want? For that small-dicked guy to take you home?”
“Are you going to take the woman who was on your lap home?”
“No,” he gruffly whispers in my ear.
Our bodies continue to move to the beat. A beat reminiscent of the one we followed the last time we were in bed together. His hips drive forward, and a moan slips past my lips.
“Fuck. That sound. I shouldn’t want to hear that sweetness coming from you.”
I remain tight-lipped, too afraid to say anything that will make him stop.
Lance grinds his hips into my ass again as his hands travel over my hips and lower belly. His fingertips dance above the place I so desperately want him to touch. My needy clit pulses, and with a mind of their own, my hips jerk, seeking his touch.
“What is this spell you have on me?” His large hands travel to my upper thigh and under my skirt. Instead of pushing him away, I spread my legs further apart. Encouraging him to touch me.
My voice is breathy and needy as I whisper his name. “Lance.”
“Tell me what you want, Gwen.”
A hundred different answers run through my head, but there is no way I’m giving him the words so easily. He doesn’t deserve to know more than the bare minimum.
“To come.”
Lance slips his hand under my skirt and places his fingers on my clit over my panties. He grinds his cock into my ass and presses down, and to the beat, he rubs hard circles over the throbbing bundle of nerves.
Palms against the wall, I push back, biting back my groans of pleasure and the urge to touch him. He works my clit until my muscles spasm, and the coil in my belly snaps. My orgasm rolls through in a wave of intense heat.
“Fuck, I barely touched you and you came. So fucking hot … Motherfucker.” Lance drops his forehead onto my shoulder, and his body goes rigid.
A growl rumbles in his chest as he grips my hip, squeezing hard, no doubt leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips behind. He curses again, mumbling unintelligible words under his breath.
“Did you just come?” I pant, soaking up the heat of his body.
Head on my shoulder, Lance nods.
“In your pants?”
“What do you think, Gwen?”
I close my eyes and picture him coming the same way he did that night when he pulled out of my body, ripped off the condom, and shot his hot cum all over my back. “I think that might be the hottest thing that I’ve ever experienced.”
Lance chuckles darkly as he removes his hand from under my skirt, leaving me achy and wanting more. “I thought the hottest thing you ever experienced was me fucking you in the back of the cab, in a darkened alley in NY.”
“Fine. Top five.” I slowly breathe in another gulp of air, tinged with his delicious peppery cologne.
“What are the other three?” he asks in my ear. His voice is thick and gravelly, laced with desire. The same voice he used the last time he was inside me.
“That’s for me to know, and for you to never find out.” I try to turn around, but Lance holds me in place and licks the side of my neck, then places a kiss behind my ear.
“Maybe it’s best for me not to know,” he admits.
“Maybe.”
He owns every spot. One to ten.
The song overhead changes, and neither of us speaks as we stand chest to back.
Lance sighs. “I shouldn’t have come over here. This was a mistake.”
Great. Just what every woman wants to hear after the man she has feelings for makes her come.
His words are a knife flaying me open in pain. My eyes burn, and my nose tingles. Now I’m glad to be facing the wall, so I can’t see his face. The last thing I want is for him to see the tears welling in my eyes.
“I think you should leave.” I barely choke out the words without crying.
“Gwen, I’m—”
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t say it. Just go. Please.” My voice is weak and thready.
“Gwen,” he repeats my name.
I don’t answer. Instead, I stay facing the wall.
Lance says nothing else as he finally steps back and slips away into the crowd, leaving me cold and alone.
Only when I can’t sense him do I let myself sag against the wall and pinch my eyes tight, refusing to let the tears fall in public.
I don’t know if my heart can take more of Lance’s hot-and-cold personality. It’s too much. I don’t have enough strength to fight him, while fighting for my career and proving my father wrong.
Maybe it’s time for me to move on.
The silly and na?ve organ in my chest constricts in pain at the thought. It’s either a glutton for punishment or knows something I don’t.
I hope it’s the latter.