“You’re literally glowing right now, Bex,” Corey says, beaming at me. “Your excitement–your energy about this–is palpable.”
I nod, recalling how excited the kids were when we opened it and tested printing a few of their favorite photos so far. “I get the energy from these kids, honestly. I can’t put into words how much they impress me with their creative abilities.”
A loud buzzer sounds, and I look toward the jumbotron. The Vipers are losing, 5-0, at the end of the second period. I turn toward Corey, and I’m stunned by the absolutely sudden feral look on his face. Clenching my thighs together, hyper-aware that I am soaking wet and my pantieshave been left a mess from our bathroom interlude, I say to him, “Didn’t you have to go check on that thing?”
“Yeah,” he growls. “And I need your help.”
“Mhmm,” I say, nodding. I cannot look away from his dark, hungry gaze. “We have to get going,” I say loudly, addressing the suite as a whole.
“Ugh.” Britney rolls her eyes and tosses back the rest of her drink. “You guys are so horny for each other, I can practically smell the sex on you.”
“Britney, be nice,” Ally chides.
“We just got here, though,” Britney whines as she strides toward the bar, rattling the ice in her empty glass.
“Just because the lovers are departing doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,” Christian says, reaching out for Britney’s glass.
“I guess,” Britney says, but I get the sense she’s not into flirting with Christian. She taps her nails on the bar and glances sideways at Aaron. He’s still standing near the high top seating, hands in pockets, doing his best to look uninterested.
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on there,” Corey whispers to me. Hmmm, interesting…
“Be good, babes,” I say, pulling away from Corey for a moment to give them both hugs goodbye.
Ally whisper-hisses in my ear, “Wear a fucking condom, and call us if you need anything.”
Nodding once at her, I turn back toward Corey. The way he looks at me sets my body on fire and while part of me is nervous for whatever is in store for us tonight, I can’t help arousal skyrocketing through every inch of me. I put my hand in his and follow him out into the night.
It is a short trip from the arena to Corey’s penthouse—given he is staying at the Bravado. Even still, he can hardly keep his hands off me—gripping my hand, then my waist, before nuzzling kisses on top of my head–as we walk. Once again, people are staring, but this time I barely have eyes for them.
Nerves tremble through me slightly by the time we make it to the penthouse elevator bank. It’s normal to be a bit nervous about sleeping with someone for the first time, and even more so if said person is a former porn star. I glance up at Corey curiously as we step into the elevator. Memories of the last trip we took up in an elevator flash in my mind, and I wonder what he’ll do this time.
But he remains still, grasping my hand in his large, warm one, tracking the floors passing by on the digital screen above the buttons. I haven’t known him long enough to understand all of his facial cues, but something about the tick in his jaw and his stiff posture makes me wonder… Is Corey nervous? Why on earth is he nervous? He used to do this for a living.
I give his hand a reassuring squeeze, and he looks down at me as the elevator chimes its arrival to his floor. He looks down and smiles.
“Shall we?” he asks, nodding toward the door. His voice doesn’t falter, but there’s a hesitancy in his eyes. I nod, allowing him to guide me from the elevator to the door, where he swipes his phone next to the keypad.
A soft click and Corey is leading me into the most beautiful hotel room I have ever seen in my life. Not even movies could compare to this—it’s more than a room, more than a suite.
“Holy shit,” I mumble. Luxury and opulence assault me everywhere I turn. An expansive living area boasts floor-to-ceiling windows that frame breathtaking views of the Strip. Each piece of furniture reflects elegance and comfort, from the plush sofas to the sleek, modern dining area. Every detail has been meticulously curated to provide an unparalleled experience of sophistication and exclusivity. And I am here with Corey.
Corey leads me down a short hall toward a small, albeit high-end, kitchen. There, on the marble island, is a bottle of Don Julio 1942, a pair of shot glasses, wedges of lime, and a small saucer of salt.
“What’s all this?” I ask playfully.
He leans against the countertop and shrugs. “I was never one for tequila shots. But then I met someone who, well, let’s just say she turned me on to them.”
I step closer to him and place a hand on his forearm to find he’s shaking. “Corey?”
“Shit, let’s do a shot first.” He fumbles a bit as he opens the tequila, but manages to steady and pour us two shots. We both lick the curve of our hands, sprinkle our skin with some salt, and then grab lime wedges. Corey winks at me before tapping his shot glass to mine. I hesitate, allowing myself a moment to wonder what is going on in this man’s head right now—and why is he so nervous?
I practically drool as I watch him take his shot, the way his throat works the alcohol down and the snap of his jaw against the lime wedge. I realize I’ve been staring, so I hastily toss back my shot.
“Wow, they’re not lying when they say the expensive stuff is worth it,” I comment, licking my lips. Corey’s gaze is heated, but I’m not ready to move forward with tonight until he opens up about what’s bothering him. I take a step closer and put my hands on his chest, over the Viperslogo. Beneath my fingers, I can feel his heart pounding. “Corey… are you okay?”
His large hands cover mine, and he presses his forehead against mine. “Bex, I know this is going to sound crazy, coming from someone who’s had more than a lifetime’s worth of sex,” he says softly. “I’ve never been nervous before because it was just work, and something I know I’m good at.”
I smile at him. “You sound awfully cocky, Mr. Moro.”
