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“I have to go,” I giggled against his mouth. He backed me up a step at a time, his fingers still inside me, until my shoulder blades hit the cool surface of the mirrored wall. He kissed me, sliding his other arm along mine, to lace our fingers and hold my hand captive.
“You’ll go,” he murmured, his mouth sliding to my jaw, my neck, his fingers still wriggling. “But you’ll go home just as you are. Naked under that very short skirt.”
I whimpered as his thumb circled my clitoris in slow, heavy strokes. I squeezed my thighs around his hand.
“And as you go, with nothing between your bare cunt and the world, I’d like you to remember why you’re doing it. Whom you’re doing it for.” His hand stilled, and he looked down, into my eyes. The intensity in his gaze swept like fire through me. He found my g-spot and pressed hard. “Remember how it felt, waiting for me to arrive, touching yourself while I watched. Remember that it was all for me, that when we’re together, this is all for me.”
Unbelievably, after a night of nonstop pleasure, I still had another amazing orgasm in me. My muscles tightened and I rose on the balls of my feet, holding him for support. I tipped my head back, but he caught my chin and forced me to look at him, ordering, “Open your eyes.”
I did, and our gazes met as I climaxed, from just the pressure of his fingers. I squealed and squirmed, shocked by the magnitude of the release that suffused me with heat and paradoxical shivers of cold.
He slipped his fingers from my body and pressed them against my mouth. I opened obediently and sucked them clean, never taking my gaze from his. My pulse beat so fast, I was sure he could see it in my pupils.
“I’ll call you a car. If that’s all right?” he asked, taking my hand and drawing it to his mouth. He kissed my knuckles one by one.
“Well, it’s that or put my bare ass on a subway seat.” I pulled away, disentangling our hands. The moment had skirted a bit close to a line I didn’t care to think about. I didn’t want to get anywhere near intimate. At least, not emotionally. Not yet.
Excuse me, Ms. Scaife, what’s this “yet?” I scolded myself.
I think Neil picked up on my discomfort. “I’ll call the front desk. It will only take a moment.”
He went back upstairs, but I stayed where I was. Getting close to a bed with him was not a great idea. My legs trembled as I turned to check myself out in the mirror. I looked recently fucked, no doubt about it. My lips were swollen, my eyes bright, my cheeks pink. My hair was tangled, and my attempts to comb through it with my fingers only made it look stringier. I’d sweated all the curl out.
I would have no problem staying focused on our little “game.” I already felt naughty, and I hadn’t left the hotel room yet. A thrill ran through me. Every step I took, I would be thinking about Neil, thinking about the fact that I was doing something “bad,” and I was doing it because he’d told me to. All the anticipation I’d felt earlier in the evening crashed over me again. Was this how it was going to be between us?
You might be in trouble, self.
Neil came back downstairs just as I had collected my garment bag with my work clothes, and my purse. “They’ll have a car in five minutes.”
“I think I’ll go and wait in the lobby.” I certainly wouldn’t sit down, and god help me if I dropped anything, but it would keep me from falling back into bed with him.
He came to my side and put his arms around me, for a surprisingly sweet hug. “Thank you, I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“Me too.” I rose on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “We’ll do this again soon?”
“I hope so. Oh, and bring that iPad back to the office, will you? I have some things I’d like to add to it.”
“Will do,” I assured him, and then, when I couldn’t think of any other way around it, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes, see you in the morning.” He grinned almost bashfully as I closed the door behind me.
* * * *
Being with Neil had overwhelmed me to the point that I forgot what day it was. Or was about to be. Or technically was, since it was after midnight. I got home, changed, scrubbed my makeup off, and crawled into bed at two-thirty, never thinking to check my phone’s alarm.
I woke to the shrill beeping at five-thirty, and almost had to manually peel back my eyelids. Holli sat at the end of my bed, her huge brown eyes wide above her coffee mug. She was wearing her pink running suit over a gray sports bra. “Someone forgot her morning commitment.”
