watch every tiny reaction. Her heart rate speeds up on her neck, she fidgets a little nervously with a leftover fork the waiter missed, her breaths grow shallow.
She’s nervous. Not in a bad way, though. It’s an excited nervous.
I pull out her chair and hold a hand out. She takes it.
As she stands up, I admire her in the dress once more. Fuck, she’s a work of art. I’m going to miss her wearing it after I strip it off her.
Mary Patrick
What I’m about to do goes against everything I’ve ever been taught in the church, and yet somehow, I don’t feel bad. In fact, the only thing I feel bad about is not feeling bad. I don’t know if that makes any sense at all, but my brain has gone off the rails.
All I know is when I feel Rick’s lips on mine, his body pressed against me, see the way he looks at me—I want him. It’s more than want. I need him.
He backs me up against the door of the hotel room and pins me against it. I lunge into him. I think it takes him by surprise, because we stumble back a few steps and he somehow manages to catch me in his arms.
In one smooth motion, he picks me up like I weigh nothing, and my legs immediately wrap around his waist. Rick marches me back toward the door, his hands gripping my rear and I can feel his hard length up against me.
A million things should run through my mind; how it’s not right, how it’s too fast, how I’ll regret this in the morning—but for some reason, I don’t think I will. That night in the park, when I told him to take me to his place—right then, I made my decision and I knew I’d follow through with it. I want this with him, and I’m not backing down.
Rick holds me up against the door and somehow gets the hotel key out and opens the door, all without dropping me. His hard biceps squeeze around me; he’s way stronger than he looks. Not that he looks weak by any means, but I’m not exactly light.
He carries me through the suite effortlessly, and my lips fuse to his. His neatly trimmed stubble brushes against my cheek, and his mouth connects with my neck. A small moan comes from deep in my throat, and I feel him grow harder against me when he hears it. My hips instinctively grind, and I rub up against him, searching for any bit of friction I can get. A fire ignites deep in my belly, and it rips through my limbs.
Rick groans in my ear, “You don’t know what you do to me.”
“I know what I want you to do to me.” The words come out before I can even think them through.
I’ve never been so direct with a man before, but there’s something about Rick. I feel so safe, so comfortable with him. There’s nothing I could say or do wrong, and I can’t describe how intimate that is. I’ve never had a man look at me this way before, want me this way. I feel cherished—deserving.
He sets me on my feet, right in front of the bed, and I immediately go for his tux jacket to peel it off.
He grabs each of my wrists and stops me. He shakes his head and looks me up and down, savoring every last second of this. “I’m taking my time with you.”
My heart thumps at his words, and butterflies swarm my stomach. I don’t know if I want to go slow. It’ll give my brain time to think, time to shut this down, and Rick will stop if I tell him to. I know he will.
The way he stares at me lets me know what he just said isn’t up for discussion, though. His eyes are hungry, like a lion’s, and I’m his prey.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and goosebumps pebble all over my body.
His hands find my shoulders, and he spins me around, then marches me over to a huge window overlooking downtown Chicago. With a stroke of his hand, he brushes my hair to one side of my neck. My eyes lock onto the lit-up skyscrapers, but Rick’s eyes lock onto mine at the same time in the window’s reflection.
His fingers dig into my waist, then his hands roam up my ribs and he finally cups each of my breasts. “No bra?”