Screwed
Page 32
“We’ve got to get out of here,” I say in a low voice, practically panting.
“Yes,” she agrees, just as breathless.
Taking her hand, I pull her from the restaurant and down the hall toward the elevators. I consider pulling her into the stairwell—it’s closer than our room—but not nearly private enough for what I want to do to her.
Jabbing the button with my finger, I don’t release my hold on Emery’s hand. Finally the doors open and we step inside, joining an elderly couple who nod and smile at us. But then Granny’s eyes travel down to the large bulge at the front of my pants, and she takes a step back.
“Oh my,” she says, her hand flying to her mouth.
Emery giggles and buries her face into my neck. The warm puff of her breath against my skin sends tingling heat down my spine and into my groin, making my dick even harder.
“Not helping, sweetheart,” I murmur. I want to swat her ass, but in the presence of our audience, I resist. Just barely.
The elevator stops at our floor and we make a hasty exit. Emery stumbles, tipsy from the three sangrias she’s had, and lets me tug her down the hall.
Finally we’re inside our room, and when the door closes behind us, the only sound is of our thumping heartbeats. The room is dim, except for the bathroom light that was left on, creating a swath of light to see by.
“Why’d you tell Larry I was your boyfriend?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper.
“You saw how he is with me.”
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “I wanted to fucking hit him in the face. Repeatedly.”
“I couldn’t come here and be the only one without a date. I needed you.”
“As a buffer,” I say.
She nods, reluctantly. “Do you mind?”
“No, actually. It’s cool. But why not say we were just friends, you know, tell the truth?”
She swallows and looks down at the carpeting. “Sometimes it feels like . . .”
“More,” I say, finishing for her.
Her gaze flies up to mine. “Yeah.”
I take a deep shaky breath, not knowing what to say next. This whole situation is my fault.
“But I know you don’t want that,” she says, her voice small.
“I want you,” I tell her, lifting her chin to look at me.
Alarm bells ring in my head. Beth’s warnings, Hudson’s lectures . . . but all of it means nothing. Because I want her. So badly it hurts.
Her hand dips down and she grips my cock through my pants. “Yeah, I picked up on that.”
A grunt of surprise pushes past my lips as she rubs her hand up and down. “Fuck.”
“You’re not fit to take out in public. Scaring women and children like that.” She makes a tsking sound.
“What are you going to do about it, Miss Winters?”
I lean down and take her mouth again. Damn, one hit and I’m addicted to her. She lets me devour her mouth, her warm tongue stroking mine as I grind my erection into her soft belly.
Letting out a loud gasp, Emery breaks away from our kiss.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m sure you were lying about that whole nine-inches thing, but I have to know.” Her grin turns devilish as her hands move to my zipper, and she slowly tugs it down.
I lace my fingers and cross my hands behind my head as I lean back against the wall. “Have at it, babe.”
She smirks at me and then goes back to work, reaching inside my black boxer briefs. I feel her warm palm curl around me, and it’s heaven.
She grips me and pulls out my cock. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I look down to see her view.
We’re both fully clothed, with just my cock between us. Her hand doesn’t even close around my girth, but it’s such a pretty sight—her manicured red nails and delicate hand holding me this way.
“Women actually let you put this thing inside them?”
I want to laugh at her innocence, but I don’t. “Come here,” I say, leaning down to kiss her again.
I want her to stroke that pretty little hand up and down—I’m so fucking worked up that I’m ready to explode, but I don’t want to rush her. I know this is a huge moment for us. There might be no going back to being friends after this, and I have no idea what that means, or how to process it. I only know that I want her underneath me, on top of me, everywhere.
Reaching behind her, I unzip her dress and let it fall to the floor. She’s wearing a black strapless bra that pushes her titties up so nice and high for me to admire, and little black boy shorts. Practical, comfortable, but still sexy as hell. My hands skim down her body, over the dip in her waist and down to her ass, where her round cheeks peek from the undies she’s wearing.
Finally her hand begins working up and down. It feels good.
“Use two hands, baby,” I encourage her. She giggles but adds a second hand, and fuck, now that feels really good.
When I rub my thumb over the front of her panties, Emery releases a little grunt of pleasure. I want to make her come. I want to take her over to the bed. But instead, I switch our positions so she’s the one leaning up against the wall, braced with support. Then I push my fingers inside her panties and find her soaking wet. Her little pearl of a clit is already swollen and distended, as if reaching out for me. I circle it with my finger and Emery moans.
“Hayden. Oh God.”
“You like me touching this hot little pussy?” I whisper, speeding up my strokes.
“Yes,” she agrees, just as breathless.
Taking her hand, I pull her from the restaurant and down the hall toward the elevators. I consider pulling her into the stairwell—it’s closer than our room—but not nearly private enough for what I want to do to her.
Jabbing the button with my finger, I don’t release my hold on Emery’s hand. Finally the doors open and we step inside, joining an elderly couple who nod and smile at us. But then Granny’s eyes travel down to the large bulge at the front of my pants, and she takes a step back.
“Oh my,” she says, her hand flying to her mouth.
Emery giggles and buries her face into my neck. The warm puff of her breath against my skin sends tingling heat down my spine and into my groin, making my dick even harder.
“Not helping, sweetheart,” I murmur. I want to swat her ass, but in the presence of our audience, I resist. Just barely.
The elevator stops at our floor and we make a hasty exit. Emery stumbles, tipsy from the three sangrias she’s had, and lets me tug her down the hall.
Finally we’re inside our room, and when the door closes behind us, the only sound is of our thumping heartbeats. The room is dim, except for the bathroom light that was left on, creating a swath of light to see by.
“Why’d you tell Larry I was your boyfriend?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper.
“You saw how he is with me.”
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “I wanted to fucking hit him in the face. Repeatedly.”
“I couldn’t come here and be the only one without a date. I needed you.”
“As a buffer,” I say.
She nods, reluctantly. “Do you mind?”
“No, actually. It’s cool. But why not say we were just friends, you know, tell the truth?”
She swallows and looks down at the carpeting. “Sometimes it feels like . . .”
“More,” I say, finishing for her.
Her gaze flies up to mine. “Yeah.”
I take a deep shaky breath, not knowing what to say next. This whole situation is my fault.
“But I know you don’t want that,” she says, her voice small.
“I want you,” I tell her, lifting her chin to look at me.
Alarm bells ring in my head. Beth’s warnings, Hudson’s lectures . . . but all of it means nothing. Because I want her. So badly it hurts.
Her hand dips down and she grips my cock through my pants. “Yeah, I picked up on that.”
A grunt of surprise pushes past my lips as she rubs her hand up and down. “Fuck.”
“You’re not fit to take out in public. Scaring women and children like that.” She makes a tsking sound.
“What are you going to do about it, Miss Winters?”
I lean down and take her mouth again. Damn, one hit and I’m addicted to her. She lets me devour her mouth, her warm tongue stroking mine as I grind my erection into her soft belly.
Letting out a loud gasp, Emery breaks away from our kiss.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m sure you were lying about that whole nine-inches thing, but I have to know.” Her grin turns devilish as her hands move to my zipper, and she slowly tugs it down.
I lace my fingers and cross my hands behind my head as I lean back against the wall. “Have at it, babe.”
She smirks at me and then goes back to work, reaching inside my black boxer briefs. I feel her warm palm curl around me, and it’s heaven.
She grips me and pulls out my cock. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I look down to see her view.
We’re both fully clothed, with just my cock between us. Her hand doesn’t even close around my girth, but it’s such a pretty sight—her manicured red nails and delicate hand holding me this way.
“Women actually let you put this thing inside them?”
I want to laugh at her innocence, but I don’t. “Come here,” I say, leaning down to kiss her again.
I want her to stroke that pretty little hand up and down—I’m so fucking worked up that I’m ready to explode, but I don’t want to rush her. I know this is a huge moment for us. There might be no going back to being friends after this, and I have no idea what that means, or how to process it. I only know that I want her underneath me, on top of me, everywhere.
Reaching behind her, I unzip her dress and let it fall to the floor. She’s wearing a black strapless bra that pushes her titties up so nice and high for me to admire, and little black boy shorts. Practical, comfortable, but still sexy as hell. My hands skim down her body, over the dip in her waist and down to her ass, where her round cheeks peek from the undies she’s wearing.
Finally her hand begins working up and down. It feels good.
“Use two hands, baby,” I encourage her. She giggles but adds a second hand, and fuck, now that feels really good.
When I rub my thumb over the front of her panties, Emery releases a little grunt of pleasure. I want to make her come. I want to take her over to the bed. But instead, I switch our positions so she’s the one leaning up against the wall, braced with support. Then I push my fingers inside her panties and find her soaking wet. Her little pearl of a clit is already swollen and distended, as if reaching out for me. I circle it with my finger and Emery moans.
“Hayden. Oh God.”
“You like me touching this hot little pussy?” I whisper, speeding up my strokes.
