16. Bradley
Bradley
H e got a room. Sneaky little devil, and I’m loving every minute of it.
“Let’s go,” he growls against my lips, biting down on my lip and tugging on it before letting go.
God, that one little act has my body heated and my cock hardening.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” My voice is almost giddy, eager for what’s to come.
Jefferson slips his arm around my waist, the tips of his fingers pressing firmly against me as we walk hip to hip toward the elevator.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I already had them deliver some wine to our room.”
“How did you know I’d say yes?”
“Took a lucky shot that you would. If you’d turned me down, I would’ve just gone up alone, cracked open the bottle, and jacked off in a hotel robe.”
The smartass in me can’t help but come back to that, especially when he left himself wide open.
“So you were planning on getting lucky either way tonight.”
Jefferson halts quickly, thankfully holding on to me, so when I stumble, he’s able to catch me and keep me upright.
“Fuck, no.” I can feel the panic in his voice wafting off him. “I didn't think about it looking like that. We don't have to do anything other than talk. It’s just been a while since I've had this much fun out on a, well, for lack of a better word, date. If you don't want to, I can take you home.”
My heart softens instantly. He’s nervous. He cares.
“What room are we in?” I ask, my tone making it clear I’m not going anywhere but up with him.
“Six twenty three,” he announces before tugging me toward the elevator, pressing the button once we reach it.
I look around, noticing the hustle and bustle in the lobby. It's late. Are all these people from the charity event? Are they having a booty call just like me? I can't help but chuckle.
“What's so funny?” Jefferson's husky voice whispers just as the doors open and we step inside.
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Why do I feel that's not the truth?”
Because it's not, maybe. Do I even want to tell him why I was so amused? Will he even understand the weird ass brain I have and how quickly it can spiral?
“Bradley,” he growls.
The elevator doors are barely closed before he’s pressing me against the wall, the soft thud of my body against the panel muffled by the hum of the machinery. The only sound filling the air is the low whir as the tiny metal box ascends and our heavy breathing.
“What was so funny?” His warm breath floats across my lips.
My breath hitches, excited about his show of dominance. “It’s nothing, really.” I stumble across the words. “I was just wondering if all the people in the lobby were about to have a booty call like me.” I giggle. “Like us.”
He doesn’t say a word. Just gazes at me with lust filled eyes. Then his mouth finds mine, and his lips move hurriedly with hunger.. I kiss his demanding mouth without hesitation, meeting his appetite. Like he’s been waiting all night to have me alone. To be with me like this.
He doesn’t say a word. Just gazes at me with lust filled eyes. Then his mouth finds mine, and his lips move hurriedly with hunger. I kiss his demanding mouth without hesitation, meeting his appetite. Like he’s been waiting all night to have me alone. To be with me like this.
His kiss is rough in the best way imaginable—teeth grazing, lips parting, tongues melding together, causing my body to heat with desire.
One of his hands presses firmly against the wall, right beside my head, while the other roams my body, tracing along the curve of my collarbone, sliding down my chest, inching its way around my waist, pulling me closer.
Every place he touches, even covered by clothing, leaves me aching for more.
Yearning for a deeper connection. To have him buried deep inside me. To taste his cum on my lips.
Just as quickly as the elevator starts to move, it slows to a gentle stop. A low ding piercing the haze between us.
When did he even push the button? Was I so caught up in my emotions that I missed something?
We break apart with seconds to spare, our chests heaving, lips kiss-swollen, his hand still gripping my hip tightly before letting it slip downward. His hand finds mine, his fingers intertwining with equal softness and eagerness.
The doors slide open, revealing an empty hallway bathed in soft light. Jefferson doesn’t speak; he just gazes at me with a dark, knowing look, then tugs my hand, leading me forward.
I can’t help but follow, not only because he’s gripping my hand tightly, pulling me along, but because he has me mesmerized. Under a spell that I hope won’t ever break. My heart is pounding as my body hums with a yearning desire, as he leads me down the corridor toward the room.
“Here we are.” Jefferson grins broadly as he holds the keycard up to the scanner, the light flashing green as the lock disengages. “Welcome to our humble abode.” He pushes the door open, giving me room to step inside first.
The hotel room isn’t anything extravagant, and I like that.
Jefferson could have gone off the rails and gotten the most expensive room, judging by how much money he was comfortable dropping just for charity, but he didn’t.
That fact is comforting. The soft lighting and neutral color palette washes me with a much needed calmness.
A small couch faces a mounted television, with just enough room for two people to sit comfortably, legs tucked up or stretched out. Three depending on their size. A coffee table sits in front of it, with only the remote control sitting on it.
The king-sized bed dominates the space just beyond the wall. It’s neatly made with an inviting comforter folded back, ready for us to slip underneath it for a memorable night. A small lamp sits on each nightstand, casting gentle pools of light into the room.
Next to the caramel colored dresser is a desk and chair.
Simple and functional, with a notepad, pen, and small lamp, offering an inviting space for someone to work.
The television sits on the dresser, slightly angled toward the bed.
My mind is already drifting, thinking of lying wrapped in Jefferson’s arms as we watch Game of Thrones or some other show.
I wonder if he’d watch the Simpsons with me or if it’s too childish for him.
The bathroom is surprisingly spacious. Cream colored tiles line the floor and walls.
A large walk-in shower stands behind a clear glass enclosure.
The fixtures are modern, hinting at a water pressure that I’d kill to have at home.
A folded stack of plush white towels sits neatly on a built-in shelf underneath the counter.
A wide mirror stretches across the sink.
Visions of Jefferson having me pressed against the glass, steam all around us as I watch him fuck me in the mirror. My hand drops, readjusting my cock.
I’ve been so overwhelmed with taking in the room I didn’t even notice Jefferson removing his jacket and tossing it on the dresser. He’s standing at the counter I overlooked, a bottle of wine firmly seated in a bucket of ice upon it, two glasses overturned beside it, begging to be filled.
“Ready for some wine?” he asks, not even turning back to face me.
“Yeah. That would be nice.” I tug off my jacket, taking care with it, and drape it over the arm of the couch before unbuttoning my shirt.
I hesitate for a moment, then decide to remove it completely, having a shirt on underneath it.
Folding it neatly, I place it on the table and decide to go one step further, getting comfortable and slide my shoes off before sitting down on the couch.
Jefferson turns, a seductively charming smile gleaming back at me as his eyes hungrily roam my body.
He cuts the distance between us with long strides before sinking onto the couch beside me, handing me a glass.
“Thanks for being my plus one. You made the night fun and bearable. I was dreading coming here alone.” He shifts, angling his body toward me as he stretches his free arm along the back of the couch.
His fingertips skim along the ridge of my shoulder to the exposed skin on my neck.
Goosebumps erupt at his touch, sending shivers down my spine.
I grin, trying to deflect with humor. “Well, you did pay for my company. Just doing my job.”
His expression falters—just for a second. Shit.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I rush to add. “It was a joke. A bad one.”
“I knew it was. I'm not that uptight that I didn't get it was a joke.” He locks his eyes on me, studying me like he's trying to memorize every detail.
He takes a sip of wine, then takes the glass in my hand and places them both on the coffee table.
“I'm suddenly thirsty for something else.” His tongue skims across his lower lip, and damn if I were a woman, I know I’d be pressing my thighs together, trying to ease a burning ache in my core. Instead, my cock reacts, pressing against the fabric of my dress pants.
“And what's that?” I swallow hard, my heart beating so forcefully I almost fear it will burst from my chest.
“You.” His voice deepens as he growls, gripping my shirt, pulling my body forward as he presses his lips firmly against mine. Firm, controlling, everything I want and never knew I needed. My mouth parts, allowing his tongue to slip inside and rub against mine.
Jefferson places a hand on the back of my head, cradling it as he intensifies our kiss. I move closer to him, my hand resting on his lap, grazing along the edge of his very hard, extremely large cock.
The kiss seems to last forever before he pulls away, leaving me craving more. But not for a kiss. It was amazing, nice and hot, but I want something else.
My eyes drift to his crotch, my mind catching up with what my body desires. Slipping off the couch, I drop to the floor, moving between his legs as I begin to fumble with his pants.
I keep shifting my eyes on Jefferson, his glazed over ones gazing back at me.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
Is he rethinking? Does he not want to go further than the kisses we shared? Did I totally misread all the signals he's giving out?
“You don’t have to,” he says, voice low, a little uncertain. “I just don’t want you to do anything you feel obligated to.”
How does he already know me so fucking well?
That's all I needed. To know he wants this as much as I do. I unbutton his pants, taking hold of the tiny piece of metal, freeing his cock. Tiny beads of precum leaking from the tip.
I lick my lips, opening my mouth wide, ready to taste him.