No, she refused to let thoughts of Paul Warwick mess with her night. Tonight’s booty call could be her way of thanking Rod. Not that she had any intention of sleeping with all the witnesses. There were… what? Six or seven of them?
“Terri?”
“I’m going.” Lucille grinned and Terri rolled her eyes. “FYI, I’m not doing this because you Googled him the second he told you his name and somehow decided to give him your family’s stamp of approval. I’m doing it because he’s hot and an amazing kisser, and I haven’t had any in months.”
“I hope you two are talking about me,” Kyle said with a distinct Australian accent, entering the back office. He was a tall guy with twinkling green eyes. “Because I’m available.”
Lucille slipped her arms around his waist. “Sweetie, if she so much as looks your way, you’d fold like a cheap suit and I’d lose the only friend I’ve ever had. Get out of here, Terri. We’ll talk business tomorrow. Damn, there goes our girls’ night out.”
“How about your soulmates’ night out on me when I come back. I think you two can take a breather once your partner is on the helm,” she said.
“I like it. What do you think, my Aussie soulmate?”
“We’ll talk,” Kyle said.
Terri hugged her best friend and grabbed her bag. Her money was in their safe, so she was good. She slipped inside the bathroom to clean up. She’d spent the last several hours wet because of Rod. And without panties, all that wetness had flowed down her inner thighs. She cleaned herself up, then studied her reflection.
Despite her outside appearance, her eyes said the woman staring back at her was the real Teresa Warwick. Scared, exposed, and vulnerable. She hated those three words, yet she felt them tonight. Her chin shot up. No, she was Terri Randal now. An average woman trying to carve out a living and have an occasional, uncomplicated booty call. She was leaving the mess with her psycho stepbrother behind tonight and enjoying herself. Tomorrow, she’d worry about covering her tracks again.
Morgan was no longer on duty and the new doorman didn’t recognize her. The wig, fake jewelry, and dramatic makeup guaranteed it. She walked in like a guest, head held high, heels clicking a steady staccato as she crossed the marble foyer and headed straight for the private elevators. If only he knew she was here for sex. Mind-blowing-till-you-can’t-walk-straight sex. From the way Rod had kissed her and talked, he’d better be ready to give her endless orgasms and memories to keep her going for the next few months until another Rod crossed her path.
The walk from the elevator to his suite seemed to take forever, as though time had slowed down. She stopped outside his suite, her heart thumping. She held the card for the scanner and watched as the light turned green and the door clicked open.
The lights were on, and the water was running. His clothes had replaced her suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed. The reversal in their situation was amusing. She got rid of the wig, the fake jewelry, and even the tattoos, and shoved them in her bag. Then she retrieved the bag from Madam Zoe’s, keeping it close by in case she needed to use the scarf and the cuffs.
The water stopped running, sending anticipation coursing through her. She was considering switching the lights off to surprise him, when Rod stepped out of the bathroom naked.
Man, he was beautiful. All big bones and muscles. She didn’t know how she’d missed the hair snaking from his belly button to his crotch. His cock was thick and heavy. She watched in awe as it rose majestically, curving upwards and toward her. She wanted to go on her knees and stroke it with her hand and tongue. She wanted him inside her.
Her nipples swelled and her clit throbbed as though reacting to her thoughts. It took all her effort to look up and take a stroll up his abs to his chest, his endless shoulders and arms. She loved big, masculine arms on a man. The fuzz on his chest and manly arms were intriguing. His hands landed on his hips as though to draw attention to his cock.
No need for that. She was impressed, alright. A chuckle escaped him as he turned to grab a robe. He shrugged it on and all her senses screamed in protest.
“You came,” he said in that gravelly, sexy voice.
“Not yet, but I’m getting there. You don’t need the robe,” she said, reaching up to lower the sleeves of her dress.
“The robe stays for now.” His voice was firm and commanding, telling her he was in charge. And she’d thought he was a gigolo she could command. This man didn’t take orders. He created them. Dispensed them and expected to be obeyed. And for some insane reason, she loved it. “Don’t touch the dress. I want to make you come wearing it and those boots, then unwrap you, one body part at a time.”
Her eyes clung to his massive cock as he closed the robe. She wanted to play with him.
“That’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“It was like this the entire time I was at the bar,” he said, walking towards her. “Knowing you were naked underneath that dress drove me crazy. I kept imagining my fingers stroking your thighs, opening your folds to feel the texture of your pussy and play with your clit, smelling your arousal as you got wet.”
“I’m wet. Right now.” She was going to come and he hadn’t even touched her.
“Finger-fucking you until you screamed my name,” he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. He reached her, his body radiating heat, his voice like velvet stroking her senses. “Then laying you on that bar and burying my tongue inside you and feasting on you until you came again.” He stroked her cheek, his touch feather-light and reverent, contradicting the crude words coming from his mouth.
Her skin tingled where he touched. He reached down and brushed his knuckles across her nipples. A moan escaped her as delicious heat engulfed her and a zing shot straight to her clit. She wanted his hand between her legs, not stroking her skin. She wanted roughness, not gentleness.
“I’m going to make love to you with my fingers, Terri.” He stroked the underside of her breast and Terri whimpered.
Her nipples ached, begging for his touch again. He didn’t disappoint. His thumbs brushed against the tight nubs, sending sensations shooting through her. She didn’t want him to stop, but he was determined to torment her. His hand slid lower and stroked down her side before pausing on her hips.
“I’ll memorize your curves, find all your sensitive spots,” he said.
Slowly, his large hand moved behind her and he ran the tips of his fingers along the cleft between her butt cheeks while the other stroked her stomach and inched lower. He followed the outline of her outer labia. She grabbed his robe to steady herself, her hips titling towards him as her body sought more contact.
“Then I’ll love you with my mouth.” He lowered his head, and his warm breath brushed against her forehead. “Tasting every inch of you. How do you taste, Terri?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled.
“I bet you taste good.” He rubbed his nose on her cheek and inhaled. “I want your juice on my finger, my lips, my face, only then will I undress you and give you what you want. Do you accept?”
Was he serious? He had her at “You came.” “Yes,” Terri whispered in a voice she hardly recognized. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”