Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Candy
I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.
He pulls back just long enough to furrow his brow, a small frown pulling at his lips. “You’re young enough to be my daughter.”
Shit. Did I misread this? I am pretty drunk. Now my cheeks heat for a completely different reason and I look down at my lap. But that’s when I see his hand still wrapped around my upper arm.
I draw in a breath. “So your fingers dancing over my arm…that was fatherly?”
He lets out another low chuckle. “You’ve got me there, milaya devushka. My touch was not fatherly.” Then he leans away, letting me go. “But you are young enough, and I am old enough, that I would not take advantage of your pain.”
Well, if my panties hadn’t already been melting, they are now. “Rest assured, you are not taking advantage, in fact”—I flip my hair again—“I’m pretty sure I offered.”
He turns his head to the side, assessing me. “How many drinks have you had?”
I scoff. I’m not as old as him, but I’m not sixteen either. “I don’t know, Dad, how many have you had?”
He laughs again, low and easy. “None. I don’t like alcohol. Dulls the mind.”
That makes me sit straighter. “Interesting.” I pick up my water and take another sip.
“I’ll make you a deal.” He taps on the bar as he talks. “We go up to your room, we talk for an hour. You still feel like hooking up, then I’m game.”
Is this guy for real? He wants to talk? What kind of one-night stand tries to sober the girl up first?
Is this how a guy with ethics acts? Or is it confidence? I have a history of misreading these situations.
He’s right about one thing. I ran away when I was sixteen and I’ve been on my own for almost ten years. I know when someone is playing a con game. But after three drinks, my brain is a little fuzzy as to what his agenda might be.
Is he really a good guy or is there something else going on?
I let out a small sigh, my hand coming to my chin. I’m hot for this guy, there is no denying it. But I’m thinking this might be the exact moment that I put in a pause.
Not his pause. Mine.
I turn to the bartender, lifting a finger.
I hear Sver rumble as I cross my legs at the knee, exposing some more of my leg in my short skirt.
“So that’s how it is.” Sver stands, moving closer, his hand coming to the back of my stool.
I look at him, my neck having to crane way back. “No offense, but I don’t really feel like talking.”
His hand wraps around the back of my neck and I’ve only got a second before his mouth descends over mine.
His lips are the perfect combination of soft and forceful, the kiss commanding me to respond.
I do, without thought, I just react and kiss him back, melting into my seat.
“You all right?”
The kiss is over before I’ve even processed the bartender’s words. “What?”
“She’s fine,” Sver rumbles. “Cancel her drink order. She’s ready for bed.” And then he pulls out a money clip from his pocket, tossing a hundred on the bar.
I’m still slightly dazed from the kiss as he links his hand in mine and pulls me from my seat, his arm wrapping around my waist just as my feet hit the floor.
My head spins, and I realize that I’ve stood for the first time since I started drinking and I’m drunker than I thought.
But Sver holds me up, guiding me toward the bank of elevators.
“Card,” he rumbles when the doors to one of them slides open.
I fish into my purse, which is somehow on my shoulder, and pull out the card. He scans it and then turns to me with a wink. “What floor?”
“Umm… Twenty,” I say, trying to keep my head as he pulls me to his chest, my body pressing into the length of his.
He pushes the button and then the doors slide closed. The moment they do, he leans back against the wall, taking me with him so that even more of my weight shifts onto him.
I only have a second to consider that it’s a baller move, not crowding me, but shifting my weight onto him, when his mouth covers mine again.
If the last kiss dazed me, this one lights me up like a Christmas tree, heat sizzling down my body like an electric current down a wire.
He opens my lips and thrusts his tongue against mine, the touch making me gasp, a sound he swallows.
The elevator dings, having reached the twentieth floor.
For a moment, he shifts under me, dipping down before he picks me up, carrying me out of the elevator.
“What room, my sweet little treat?”
Sweet little treat? The nickname shivers through me, hitting that feminine spot that wants to be devoured. But also…wants to be the little thing that he takes care of.
I pull back to look at him. Should it surprise me that I’ve got daddy issues? No. My father was a piece of shit who abandoned me and my mom, but all at once, I feel this urge to just sink into this man.
His broad shoulders could hold up a whole bunch of my pathetic world.
“You didn’t like the nickname?” he asks, and that’s when I realize I haven’t responded.
“I like it,” I whisper, searching his face. For what, I’m not sure. Maybe a reality check, or maybe just a little affirmation that I’m not completely nuts. “Room 2025.”
His brow crinkles the slightest bit, and then he starts walking down the hall, using my key card to enter my room.
I don’t even have a suitcase, we left New York in such a hurry, climbing on a private jet and sailing away.
I bought a toothbrush when I got here, which cost a ridiculous amount of money, but other than that, I’ve got nothing.
Sver gives the room a quick sweep, before his hand wraps around my thigh, encouraging my leg around his waist.
I oblige, bringing both of my legs around him, my thighs gripping him tight.
His hands slide up the back of my legs, cupping my ass as he kisses me again, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of my ass cheeks, exposed in my thong.
“You feel fantastic,” he rumbles against my lips before he kisses me again, his mouth devouring mine.
It takes a full minute before I get enough space to mutter. “Right back at you.”
He kisses me again, his tongue tangling with mine, as I squeeze his waist with my thighs, lifting myself up, before I slide my clit right against the rigid edge of his hard-on.
It feels so good, we both groan. I do it again, the amount of aching pleasure that zings through me tells me that an orgasm is close.
I’ve had my share of partners, I won’t lie. But I don’t actually orgasm that often. It’s something about being safe enough, I think…
But with this man, I can’t hold myself back, which is crazy. “Sver,” I gasp as I rub against him again. “This is so insane, but I’m so close—”
He squeezes my ass cheeks together, pulling me tighter against his cock and I explode, crying into his mouth as I break apart.
We’ve barely been in my room for five minutes—all my clothes are still on—and I just orgasmed.
I lean back to look at him with wide eyes. “Holy shit.”
“Not your usual?” he asks, his gaze intense as he stares back.
“No. I sometimes have trouble…” I stop, realizing that I’m confessing to a stranger.
One of his hands leaves my ass to cup my jaw. “You can tell me, my sweet treat.”
“I’m not usually able to finish like that. I get nervous,” I whisper, blushing for like the third time since I met this man.
“But not with me?” And then he gives me a slow kiss, his lips perfectly firm and languid.
“I guess not,” I answer against his lips. “Which is weird, because we just met.”
His hand trails down my spine, his fingertips tracing every vertebra. “I would never hurt you. Or any other woman.”
I close my eyes then, tipping my head back.
His words hit me, the rightness of them settling over me.
I feel it. Like deep down, that he’s telling me the truth.
He’d never hurt me. And for some reason…
maybe the alcohol, maybe the orgasm, I feel my eyes well with tears, one of them slipping down my cheek.
“Milaya,” he rumbles as his thumb brushes the tear away. “Why do you cry?”
I shake my head. “No reason.” And then I open my eyes, staring at him for a moment before I flex my thighs again. “Now let’s make you feel as good as I do.”
He squeezes my ass cheek, stilling my hips. “You tell me why you’re crying first.”
I wrinkle my nose. I know what this is…a one-night stand. Do you confess your inner desires to a man you’re just having sex with? Then again, I never have to see him again…
Maybe that makes him perfect for a confession.
“I just don’t feel safe very often, you know?”
His brow furrows. “Your boss. He doesn’t keep you safe?”
“He does,” I say, the topic catching me as a little odd. “Without him, I’d be dead. But it’s not like this…we don’t…we’ve never…”
His eyes light with understanding. “He doesn’t touch you?”
“None of the girls.”
“Is he into men?” Sver asks. “Because he’d be a fool not to see what a desirable woman you are.”
I nip at my lip. “No, he’s not into men. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so into his wife as Angel is…” I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Of course.” Sver leans down, giving me another soft kiss. “We’re talking about you and how you don’t feel safe most of the time.”
I shake my head. “Sorry. You don’t need my life story.”
“On the contrary. You tell me anything you want. And when you’re done, I’m going to bend you over the bed and lick you until you cum all over my face, and then you can tell me some more.”
My eyes go wide again. Because what the actual hell is going on?