2. Chapter Two
TRNDZ is everything I thought it would be. The walls are lined with private red velvet booths. A small table in the middle to hold drinks, and sheer black curtains to cover the booth if you want.
A large, sleek bar sits directly in the middle of the room with lighting in the shelves of liquor. Bartenders dressed in crisp white suit shirts and black suspenders for the guys, and classic black dresses for the ladies, they move around each other in a seamless dance to get drinks out quickly.
We’re sitting near the dance floor in a VIP section with all Joy’s colleagues. The VIP sections have large overstuffed black leather couches and matching chairs. The shots have been flowing freely along with the bottle service.
If I wasn’t confident in my new dress and these kick ass heels that lace up my calf before, I’m really confident now with a little liquid courage .
In fact, I’m so confident that I just sent a drink over to the guy I’ve been making eye contact with for the last twenty minutes. I’m not a small woman, and this guy looks like he could toss me around the bedroom like a ragdoll.
A theory I’m desperate to test out.
The waiter approaches him with a shot of tequila, he declines it, but then the waiter points over at me. His ice blue eyes find mine.
A bit of my confidence leaves with the rejection of my shot.
The next thing I know, this mountain of a man is lifting the rope to his own VIP section and coming over to me. Everyone’s eyes widen when he lifts the rope to enter our section and he stalks right to me, determination glinting in his eyes.
“You send me that shot?”
God, even his voice matches his body perfectly. It’s full and deep timbre is just as sexy as him. And of course he has an accent.
“I did. I’m sorry if you don’t like tequila.” I stand to meet him, and I only reach just under his chest. I can’t remember the last time I felt like a small woman.
“Can’t drink. Boss’ orders. But I can dance.” The man of few words holds out his hand for me to slip mine in .
“I’d love to.” I entangle my fingers with his and turn back to look at Joy who is flirting shamelessly with her boss.
She gives me a thumbs up and I open my mouth in a mock scream. But if given the chance, I would absolutely scream from this mountaintop of a man that he fucking chose me tonight.
He leads me through the throngs of other patrons to the packed dance floor. Sweaty bodies bump into mine from every angle. I’m led to the dead center of the dance floor where he pulls me into his arms. Spinning my back to his chest as he leads the sway of our hips to the beat of the song.
Throughout the songs his hands have roamed and explored every inch of my body, empowering me even more. I can feel the bulge at my back. His cock is strained behind the zipper of his jeans.
The way his hands feel on my body, I’m pretty sure I’m dripping down my own legs. Ready for absolutely anything this man asks me to do.
It doesn’t go unnoticed either how many times he’s growled at another man for so much as looking at us. Like he really has something special he doesn’t want to share.
As I have that thought, a man approaches, staring too long as I was briefly away from his hands. Before he could capture me back, this other man wraps his hands around my waist .
My Viking man is not happy with the invasion on my body. I smirk at him, swaying my hips to the beat and not breaking eye contact with him while the other hands grip at my hips too tightly. It isn’t the same sexy feeling as Viking’s hands on my skin.
He walks over, grips the guy by his shirt collar, and pushes him away. He pulls me tight to him, staring directly at this new man. “Don’t touch what’s mine, again.”
The guy takes the hint, but he isn’t impressed with us.
My Viking man leans down to whisper in my ear and his scent of bergamot and citrus envelops me with his body. “How about a drink?”
I nod instead of yelling over the loud music and I’m once again led through the crowd. He chooses one of the private booths after ordering a Coke for both of us.
I don’t like getting too drunk that I can’t get home on my own, and he’s not drinking so it would be rude for me to continue to do so.
He pulls the sheer curtains closed before turning to me. Staring up at him, I can’t help but admire his sharp facial features, and tattoos peeking out from his rolled sleeves.
“Where are you from?” The words slip out of my mouth without permission.
“Norway,” he chuckles at my question.
“What brought you here to Houston? ”
He stares at me curiously. “You don’t know who I am?”
“Should I?”
“I’m here for work,” he answers simply.
“A job where your boss gets you an invite to the swankiest bar in town, but doesn’t let you drink?”
He runs his hand through his short hair that’s just long enough to dig your fingers into and grip. “Something like that. How’d you get the invite here tonight?”
He moves closer to me, his large hand taking over my thigh. Why is that so goddamn sexy that he can grasp my whole thigh with one handful?
“My friend brought me. She helped design the place. She’s a badass architect.”
“And what do you do?” Now his body is pressed up against mine.
My brain short circuits with his proximity. I suddenly don’t remember anything that I do for work.
I tip my head to look up at him. His gaze is so intense I have no power to make a move, or move away. Possessively holding me against the edge of the soft booth as he leans over me. His lips dangerously close to mine, until they finally crush mine in a needy, bruising kiss.
He grips my body with both of his hands and pulls me sideways toward him, pushing the table away with my thigh and bending over to meet my mouth .
His tongue invades my mouth as the sweet taste of the Coke mingles.
“I can’t wait to bury my face in this pussy, Skatten Min.”
Suddenly the space feels much too small and hot, but God do I want that too.
“What are you waiting for then?” Who are you Calliope Miller?
A low growl emanates from his lips before he pushes my dress up to my hips and rips, yes rips, my panties off. Clear in two pieces. He shoves the remnants of whatever is left into his pocket before a wicked grin takes over his face.
He kisses his way up my thigh, tracing a path with his tongue, lifting me higher off the booth with each inch. “You are so ready for me. Waiting for me to get this pussy all to myself.”
Moans escape my mouth as he reaches the apex of my thighs.
“What do you want?” He stops his exploration to look at me.
“Everything.”
I’ve never felt so wanted in my life, by any man.
The feeling is addictive. I want more, I need him to want more.
He dips back down, using his tongue to outline every sensitive spot on my pussy he can find. Nipping and sucking at my clit, driving his tongue inside me. Every new sensation is better than the last. He licks up and around my clit, giving me one more nip. My hips buck into his face, burying him further.
His beard is softly grazing my inner thigh, a contrasting sensation to the assault on my pussy right now.
“Oh God,” I moan out in pleasure.
He palms each ass cheek, lifting me higher off the bench to his mouth. When he gets me to where he wants me, he wraps one arm underneath me and uses the other to plunge two fingers into my pussy while continuing to lick and suck at my clit.
It’s all too much and I’m so close to the edge. He is intent on taking care of me, it makes me wonder what he would do if he had the room and freedom of a private place.
The excitement of a public place, and this sheer curtain is adding to the naughty feeling I’ve not experienced before. Thad wouldn’t even kiss me in public, let alone feast on me in the booth of a club.
He murmurs something, but I don’t hear him over the music. The vibration from his lips is all I need to chase the orgasm. He flattens his tongue on my clit, giving me a delicious pressure, and small movements that wring out every last pulse I have.
Once he’s satisfied with the orgasm he gives me, he places me back down on the bench, and pulls my dress down to cover me. I feel boneless after that orgasm. The last time I orgasmed with Thad, was the last time I used my vibrator after his two pumps got him off six months ago.
“You taste as delicious as I thought you might, Skatten Min.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you another time. How about round two up in my penthouse? I’m just upstairs, above TRNDZ.”
I nearly choke on my tongue. Not only does he look like that, smell like that, sound like that, and give fucking orgasms like that, he has a damn penthouse in one of the swankiest buildings in all of Houston.
“I’d say that sounds like an excellent end to my evening.” I smirk at him, ready for everything this man is willing to give me.
He walks me over to the VIP section I was sitting in earlier to grab my purse.
He waits protectively by the rope at the edge, nodding to a couple of his friends that are still here.
“Joy, I’m going to go upstairs with… well, him.” I gesture over my shoulder. “To his fucking penthouse!”
“Wait a minute, you don’t even know his name? Who is he?”
“A man who sure as shit knows his way around my clit and an orgasm. So I don’t know that I really care what his name is at this point.” I get my things and stand in front of Joy, who is now fully seated on her boss’ lap.
“Ok. Share your location at all times. And text me immediately.”
I pull out my phone and turn my location sharing on for her. Once she’s satisfied she hops up and gives me a hug.
“Love you big time,” she says.
“Love you long time,” I repeat the second half of our saying.
She slaps my ass before letting me go.
“Um, ma’am. I don’t feel any lines down there.” Her eyes widen in shock at the woman I’ve become tonight.
“Because they’re in his pocket.” I wink at her and turn to my Viking mountain man so he can lead me up to the penthouse for what’s sure to be the best damn night of my life.