Chapter 29
“Oh—I… Sorry, I should go.”
Anders is standing at the bathroom sink, shirtless, brushing his teeth. His sweatpants are slung low across his hips, and I can’t help but stare.
He pulls his toothbrush from his mouth. “Stay, Baby Bardot. I won’t bite.”
His eyebrow lifts in challenge.
“I… uh… I really should—”
My toothbrush is now in front of me with a dollop of wintergreen toothpaste across the top.
And that’s how I end up brushing my teeth next to Anders fucking Olsson.
Tonight was a dream. Anders apparently has an ultra-romantic side that he’s decided to show me now that we aren’t “just friends.” I felt so seen and… loved tonight. Which I refuse to think about too much because it’s too soon for any of that.
Anders and I are silent on the cab ride back to The Plaza. I would worry that the driver could sense the sexual tension that seems to be radiating off of us, but he’s too busy strumming his ukelele while he navigates the streets of New York at 2 a.m. It’s slightly terrifying and so absurd that Anders’ face is scrunched up in an effort not to outright laugh. The driver continues to play, singing at the top of his lungs, the entire drive from the Carlyle to our hotel. Apparently, the only song he knows is “Hey There, Delilah,” because he plays it on repeat, while driving, without once acknowledging our presence.
By the time we get back to the hotel, Anders’ face is red and tears are streaming down his cheeks. We spill out of the cab and he doubles over laughing, barely able to catch his breath. I think we must be slap happy at this point because his giggles are contagious and before I know it, there are tears streaming down my face too.
He grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers and kissing each one, while he catches his breath. We make it to the elevator, trying and failing to hold it together. Stumbling in, we both take a deep breath as Anders pulls out the keycard allowing us access to our floor.
As soon as he turns back toward me, it’s like a switch has flipped. His eyes that were just filled with mirth are now looking at me like I’m his next meal and he plans on enjoying every last bite. I feel the heat of his gaze on every piece of exposed skin, causing a delicious pulsing throughout my body.
He stalks toward me, pinning me in place with those deep emerald eyes before his hands take over. His body weight pushes me back until I’m flat against the mirrored elevator wall. Wordlessly, he ghosts his lips over my collarbone, kissing across where his fingers traced earlier tonight.
I can see our reflection in the mirror across from me, and I’m struck by the erotic picture we paint. Dressed to the nines, slightly disheveled, lips parted as he sucks a spot on my neck, right below my earlobe.
“Anders,” I breathe. “I need you.”
“I know, baby,” he replies, right before his lips cover mine.
I throw my arms around his neck, yanking his body impossibly closer. Our movements are frantic, tugging and sucking like our lives depend on that next touch. We’re full on dry humping in the elevator, and if anyone is watching the security cameras, they’re getting quite the show.
Too soon and not soon enough, we arrive at our floor. As the doors slide open, Anders pulls back, his chest heaving. He looks like sex personified with one rogue strand of hair hanging in front of his face. He shakes out of his stupor and gives me one last, slow kiss before walking us both out of the elevator and down the hall to our room.
We don’t speak as he opens the door and ushers me inside. Once the door closes, I’m immediately pressed up against it.
“You have a thing for doors, don’t you?” I tease.
“Doors, walls, beds—don’t really care as long as my body is pressed against yours,” he murmurs, planting kisses across my face and neck.
He slides his hand up my exposed thigh, higher and higher until—“Wait.” He feels around a little bit more. “You don’t have anything under this,” he bites out. “Fuck me, baby. Have you been like this all night?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“And how wet will you be for me if I move my hand just a little… bit… more.”
“Anders, please. I need you to touch me,” I whine, leaning my head back against the door.
“You’re so pretty when you beg.”
Good God, the mouth on this man. I’m about to retort when he finally parts my legs, swiftly pressing a finger into me. My moan is so loud that I am fully convinced all of Manhattan hears me.
“Please, Anders. I want more.”
His movements grow faster as he pushes another finger into me, curling them so they hit exactly where I need him. He works me, continuing to kiss up the column of my throat until his lips meet mine. His tongue pushes into my mouth and mimics the push and pull of his fingers. Within minutes I can feel myself getting close.
Apparently, Anders can feel it too, because suddenly he pulls his hand away, and I feel unbearably empty.
“What the fuck! I was so close!”
“Patience, Baby Bardot.” He holds his fingers up and taps my lips. Instinctually, they part, and he presses his fingers into my mouth so I can taste myself. “Suck,” he commands with a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, mouth full.
“Shit, why do I love when you call me that?”
I suck until he pulls his fingers out with a lewd pop. “I have no idea, but I don’t have to stop.” I smirk.
He drags his hand down my neck, hooking a wet finger in the top of my dress, right where my cleavage is spilling over.
“Let’s go take this off.”
We walk through the large living space and into the attached bedroom. I perch on the edge of the bed, reaching down to undo the straps on my shoes. Anders’ strong hands come over the top of mine, stopping me before I have a chance to take them off.
“Those stay on,” he orders.
“Do they?” I tease. “Fine, but I’m going to need a foot massage later.”
“I’ve already booked someone to come up to the room in the morning,” he replies, kissing his way up my calf. “How do you get this damn dress off?”
“Wait, you have someone coming up to the room? As in a masseuse someone?!”
“Don’t get used to it, babe. I turn back into a pumpkin on Monday, but I wanted you to have the full treatment while we were here.”
I tip his chin up so he’s looking at me, fully focused on the next words out of my mouth. “I like you as a pumpkin. I don’t need all of the fancy stuff, I hope you know that. I didn’t even know your family had money until a few days ago, and I’ve been trying to get in your pants a lot longer than that.” I wink. “Speaking of…”
I move to flip our positions, motioning for him to sit on the bed, while I slink to my knees in front of him. “I believe I owe you something. Will you finally let me see this mythical dick of yours?”
Now it’s Anders’ turn to grasp my chin. “First of all, you owe me nothing. It has been, and always will be, an absolute pleasure to make you come, no reciprocation necessary. But I was playing by your rules, Bex, and now it’s time to play by mine. Be a good girl and take off my pants.”
My eager hands are moving before he even finishes his sentence. I have been dying to see him, touch him, taste him, and he doesn’t have to tell me twice before I jump at the chance to do just that.
I rush to pull down his suspenders and unbutton his tux pants, tapping him to lift his hips so I can slide his pants and boxers off. His erection springs free and hot damn.
“Huh… not cheetah print then,” I whisper, eyes wide as I take in the sight of him nearly naked before me.
“Of any reaction I could have guessed you would have, that one was nowhere near my radar.”
I’m not super keen to explain my line of thought, so instead I use my feminine power of distraction, licking a long line from his base to the tip before taking him in my mouth. I will never understand women that can do this without gagging; I already knew Anders was going to push my limits, but I’m willing and able to test how far I can take him. I breathe through my nose slowly, using my hands to make up for what my mouth can’t take.
Anders’ hands find my hair, digging in and massaging my scalp. “Shit, baby. You’re doing so good. Fuck.”
His encouragement only spurs me on, making me move faster and suck harder, as tears spring to my eyes and run down my cheeks.
A string of curses falls from his mouth as he yanks my head back off of him. “Damn, fuck. I almost just came right down that pretty little throat and that is not how tonight is going to go.”
He runs his finger across my swollen bottom lip. “Dress off. On the bed. Now.”
I resist the urge to rub my hands together like a kid who just walked into a candy store.
This is the Anders I’ve been waiting for.