Hooking Up
Page 57
“Details?” God it’s hot in here.
He fingers a lock of hair. “An orgasm tally, maybe? A comparative cock analysis?”
“Someone needs to check their ego.” I’m too breathless for the snark to come through.
Lex’s eyes roam over me hotly. “Did you tell her you let your hook-up into your tickle trunk of sex toys?”
I shake my head.
“No?” His fingers brush along my throat.
“Lex.”
“You want me to stop touching you?”
“No.”
“Good. I turned you down once, I’d have to be insane to do it again, Amie.” The sincerity behind that statement is staggering. It makes me wish this thing with Armstrong was behind me so I can be free to see where this thing with Lex can really go, without restraints.
We stare at each other for a few long seconds, the heat in his gaze sparking the fire inside; the one I don’t need to douse with logic or doubt anymore. Apparently Lex feels the same way, because he hits the release on his seatbelt and slides across the bench, reaching over to free me from mine before I can. “Come here.” He moves me to straddle him, palms sliding up my legs. “Always with the fucking garters,” he mumbles when his fingertips find the lace band at the top of my thighs.
I nibble on his bottom lip. “You love the garters.”
“I really do.”
When I make a move to unbuckle his belt, he covers my hands with his. “I’m not fucking you in the car, Amie.”
“What’re we doing then?”
He nibbles along my jaw. “Making out with our clothes on.”
“I like making out with you.”
“I know.” He sucks on my bottom lip. “If you have plans tomorrow I suggest you cancel them, because once we’re in my bed and I’m inside you I’m staying there for a long fucking time.”
He kisses me, and I surrender to the control he seems to have over my body, aware that if he keeps this up, he’s going to have the same control over my heart.
Twenty-Two: No Self-Control
Amie
Over the weeks leading up to the engagement party Lex and I do exactly what we did in Bora Bora; we spend time together. We’re dating. In secret, but still dating. It’s made that much easier because of Mimi’s elaborate engagement party plans. The whole thing has taken far longer to organize than I expected, and since Lex and I are co-organizers, no one questions it—much.
Lex seems to enjoy testing my self-control on a regular basis. It really hasn’t improved much. Although, last time I made it a full seventy-three minutes before I finally gave in, which was a real feat since he came to my apartment and sat on my couch, looking hot in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. And he was wearing his glasses. I made him keep them on, even though they fogged up when he went down on me.
I’m frustrated that we still have to hide since Armstrong continues to find reasons not to sign the annulment papers. There seems to be no other purpose than his enjoyment of my suffering.
But tonight I’m not worrying about Armstrong being difficult. Ruby and Bane’s engagement party has finally arrived and we’re all staying at the hotel, because it’s easier and it makes the most sense. Also, the penthouse suites are to die for. I check my phone as messages flood in from Ruby, who’s panicked over this whole thing. She’s used to being the center of attention, but not like this.
Except this time it’s not Ruby, it’s Lex, regarding early check-in at the hotel. He’s suggesting we go now, so we have some extra time before everyone else shows up. It seems smart, especially when he spins it as a pre-engagement party de-stressing meeting that will take place on one of the enormous king-size beds.
I gather my things, call an Uber, and head to street level. Lex texts me his room number. I have my own for the sake of appearances, but that’s its only purpose. I feel bad that a room costing a thousand dollars a night will be wasted, but we can have sex in there later so it’s not a complete waste of a room.
Excitement makes my fingers tremble as I collect my key card from the concierge, then wait for the elevator. I check my reflection in the mirror. This is far more than orgasm anticipation, and if I’m completely honest with myself, it’s been more than that since Bora Bora, I just wasn’t ready to accept it. I see him at least three times a week, but the secrecy is becoming difficult to manage. We both struggle to maintain distance from each other when we’re in the presence of our friends and his family.
My heart speeds up as the elevator dings and the doors open. I drop my things in my room, unlock the adjoining door, and knock. The way my lips curve up in a smile that matches his when he opens the door for me tells me how deep I’m in.
I barely have a chance to cross the threshold before I’m in his arms, his lips on mine. Lex tugs on the tie at my waist and quickly unbuttons my coat, parting the fabric. He freezes, eyes sliding hotly down my body. “Fuck, Amie. This is how you left your apartment?”
I’m wearing a demi bra in lilac with matching lace garters, panties, and nothing else. My dress is in the garment bag tossed carelessly on my bed. “I was in a rush, I thought I’d get dressed here.”
“I don’t know whether I want to spank you or fuck you.”
I lace my fingers with his, tugging him toward the bed. “How about you do both?”
* * *
Sometime later I’m lying on the comforter of the king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. Lex is using the space between my breasts as a pillow.
“Don’t expect to get a lot of sleep tonight.” He nuzzles in a bit more.
“What time do we have to check out tomorrow?” I attempt to smooth his messed-up hair. I think he’s probably going to have to wash it to fix it with how much my fingers were in it.
“Whenever I feel like it.” He kisses between my breasts. “We could stay here all weekend, order room service, pretend we’re in Bora Bora without the sand and sun.”
“I like that idea.” My bra and garters never came off, and I’m still wearing my panties since Lex only moved them to the side, so it’s just a matter of putting on my dress—although I’m a little dewy from the exertion, so a quick wipe down with a wash cloth might be helpful. “I should probably think about putting some clothes on.”
Before Lex has a chance to respond, there’s a knock at his door.
“Did you order room service?” I ask.
He shakes his head and nabs his phone from the nightstand. “Ah, hell.” It’s blowing up with messages.
The knock comes again, harder this time, followed by grumbling and then, “I know you’re here, Lex. I checked with the front desk.”
It’s Bane. I meet Lex’s gaze, the panic in his expression matching mine.
Suddenly, Lex’s phone rings. “Shit.” He fumbles around to silence it, but it’s too late.
“Get dressed so we can deal with this.” I push him off me and rush across the room, slipping through the adjoining door, grateful I had the foresight to go to my own damn room first, otherwise there would be no way to hide this.
“Open the damn door, Lex. We have an issue with catering and Amie isn’t answering her phone and Ruby’s freaking out. We need one or both of you before my fiancée has a total meltdown.”
Ruby is usually pretty calm in the face of stress, but this whole thing is beyond her comfort zone. I feel horrible as I pull my phone from my purse to find six missed calls and at least twenty messages from her, all in the past thirty minutes. I’m a terrible best friend.
He fingers a lock of hair. “An orgasm tally, maybe? A comparative cock analysis?”
“Someone needs to check their ego.” I’m too breathless for the snark to come through.
Lex’s eyes roam over me hotly. “Did you tell her you let your hook-up into your tickle trunk of sex toys?”
I shake my head.
“No?” His fingers brush along my throat.
“Lex.”
“You want me to stop touching you?”
“No.”
“Good. I turned you down once, I’d have to be insane to do it again, Amie.” The sincerity behind that statement is staggering. It makes me wish this thing with Armstrong was behind me so I can be free to see where this thing with Lex can really go, without restraints.
We stare at each other for a few long seconds, the heat in his gaze sparking the fire inside; the one I don’t need to douse with logic or doubt anymore. Apparently Lex feels the same way, because he hits the release on his seatbelt and slides across the bench, reaching over to free me from mine before I can. “Come here.” He moves me to straddle him, palms sliding up my legs. “Always with the fucking garters,” he mumbles when his fingertips find the lace band at the top of my thighs.
I nibble on his bottom lip. “You love the garters.”
“I really do.”
When I make a move to unbuckle his belt, he covers my hands with his. “I’m not fucking you in the car, Amie.”
“What’re we doing then?”
He nibbles along my jaw. “Making out with our clothes on.”
“I like making out with you.”
“I know.” He sucks on my bottom lip. “If you have plans tomorrow I suggest you cancel them, because once we’re in my bed and I’m inside you I’m staying there for a long fucking time.”
He kisses me, and I surrender to the control he seems to have over my body, aware that if he keeps this up, he’s going to have the same control over my heart.
Twenty-Two: No Self-Control
Amie
Over the weeks leading up to the engagement party Lex and I do exactly what we did in Bora Bora; we spend time together. We’re dating. In secret, but still dating. It’s made that much easier because of Mimi’s elaborate engagement party plans. The whole thing has taken far longer to organize than I expected, and since Lex and I are co-organizers, no one questions it—much.
Lex seems to enjoy testing my self-control on a regular basis. It really hasn’t improved much. Although, last time I made it a full seventy-three minutes before I finally gave in, which was a real feat since he came to my apartment and sat on my couch, looking hot in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. And he was wearing his glasses. I made him keep them on, even though they fogged up when he went down on me.
I’m frustrated that we still have to hide since Armstrong continues to find reasons not to sign the annulment papers. There seems to be no other purpose than his enjoyment of my suffering.
But tonight I’m not worrying about Armstrong being difficult. Ruby and Bane’s engagement party has finally arrived and we’re all staying at the hotel, because it’s easier and it makes the most sense. Also, the penthouse suites are to die for. I check my phone as messages flood in from Ruby, who’s panicked over this whole thing. She’s used to being the center of attention, but not like this.
Except this time it’s not Ruby, it’s Lex, regarding early check-in at the hotel. He’s suggesting we go now, so we have some extra time before everyone else shows up. It seems smart, especially when he spins it as a pre-engagement party de-stressing meeting that will take place on one of the enormous king-size beds.
I gather my things, call an Uber, and head to street level. Lex texts me his room number. I have my own for the sake of appearances, but that’s its only purpose. I feel bad that a room costing a thousand dollars a night will be wasted, but we can have sex in there later so it’s not a complete waste of a room.
Excitement makes my fingers tremble as I collect my key card from the concierge, then wait for the elevator. I check my reflection in the mirror. This is far more than orgasm anticipation, and if I’m completely honest with myself, it’s been more than that since Bora Bora, I just wasn’t ready to accept it. I see him at least three times a week, but the secrecy is becoming difficult to manage. We both struggle to maintain distance from each other when we’re in the presence of our friends and his family.
My heart speeds up as the elevator dings and the doors open. I drop my things in my room, unlock the adjoining door, and knock. The way my lips curve up in a smile that matches his when he opens the door for me tells me how deep I’m in.
I barely have a chance to cross the threshold before I’m in his arms, his lips on mine. Lex tugs on the tie at my waist and quickly unbuttons my coat, parting the fabric. He freezes, eyes sliding hotly down my body. “Fuck, Amie. This is how you left your apartment?”
I’m wearing a demi bra in lilac with matching lace garters, panties, and nothing else. My dress is in the garment bag tossed carelessly on my bed. “I was in a rush, I thought I’d get dressed here.”
“I don’t know whether I want to spank you or fuck you.”
I lace my fingers with his, tugging him toward the bed. “How about you do both?”
* * *
Sometime later I’m lying on the comforter of the king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. Lex is using the space between my breasts as a pillow.
“Don’t expect to get a lot of sleep tonight.” He nuzzles in a bit more.
“What time do we have to check out tomorrow?” I attempt to smooth his messed-up hair. I think he’s probably going to have to wash it to fix it with how much my fingers were in it.
“Whenever I feel like it.” He kisses between my breasts. “We could stay here all weekend, order room service, pretend we’re in Bora Bora without the sand and sun.”
“I like that idea.” My bra and garters never came off, and I’m still wearing my panties since Lex only moved them to the side, so it’s just a matter of putting on my dress—although I’m a little dewy from the exertion, so a quick wipe down with a wash cloth might be helpful. “I should probably think about putting some clothes on.”
Before Lex has a chance to respond, there’s a knock at his door.
“Did you order room service?” I ask.
He shakes his head and nabs his phone from the nightstand. “Ah, hell.” It’s blowing up with messages.
The knock comes again, harder this time, followed by grumbling and then, “I know you’re here, Lex. I checked with the front desk.”
It’s Bane. I meet Lex’s gaze, the panic in his expression matching mine.
Suddenly, Lex’s phone rings. “Shit.” He fumbles around to silence it, but it’s too late.
“Get dressed so we can deal with this.” I push him off me and rush across the room, slipping through the adjoining door, grateful I had the foresight to go to my own damn room first, otherwise there would be no way to hide this.
“Open the damn door, Lex. We have an issue with catering and Amie isn’t answering her phone and Ruby’s freaking out. We need one or both of you before my fiancée has a total meltdown.”
Ruby is usually pretty calm in the face of stress, but this whole thing is beyond her comfort zone. I feel horrible as I pull my phone from my purse to find six missed calls and at least twenty messages from her, all in the past thirty minutes. I’m a terrible best friend.
