“I thought that text this morning was an invitation,” I answer his previous question, ignoring hers. I said all I needed to say to her when I found her naked in my bed with Mitch.
Reaching up, he rubs his stubble and smiles at me. “It was.” Taking my hand, he pulls me down the hallway, both of us ignoring the bitch at the front desk.
I’ve got so many questions right now, but I shove them down for two reasons. One, they’re none of my business. And two, like Haven once said, I’m probably better off not knowing.
He opens a door at the end of the hall and pulls me inside. It only takes a second for us to get undressed before he’s fucking me on a tattoo chair.
_______________
HE’S ZIPPING UPhis jeans while I lie here, cum dripping out of my cunt with my legs wide open, my skirt pulled up to my waist. I knew I wore this outfit for a reason. This is the kind of stuff you don’t learn about sex. When your body is spent and you’re so high from your orgasm—if you’re lucky—that you just don’t give a fuck what you look like.
Reaching over, he hands me a few tissues to clean myself. Once done, I sit up and drape my legs over the side of the chair.
“If a text gets me this kind of treatment, what will a morning phone call get me?” he asks, coming to stand between my legs. He places his hands on my bare thighs, and I know he can feel them still shake. “I could get used to this.” He leans forward, nuzzling my neck and kissing my skin.
I throw my head back and take in a deep breath. “Keep doing that.” My hands run up and down his back. “And you can have it every day.”
A knock on the door has him pulling away, but he stays between my legs, covering my exposed pussy in case whoever it is decides to barge in.
“What?” he demands, making me jump.
“Your next appointment is here,” Rachel growls.
“I’ll go. I’ve taken up enough of your time,” I say, pushing him away. He takes a few steps back to allow me to get off the chair. I pick up my thong off the floor and then yank down my skirt.
“Dinner tonight?” he asks, pushing my matted hair from my face.
“That sounds like a date.” I arch a brow.
“If you consider me eating your pussy while lying naked in my bed, then yes, it’s a date,” he says, running his tongue across his pretty teeth. God, the guy has a billion-dollar smile. My pussy tightens just thinking about that.
“It’s a date,” I say, gently kissing his lips, then walking out of the room. As I pass by the front desk, I see Rachel standing there out of the corner of my eye. My skin burns from her glare. “You can write me down for an appointment every day,” I throw over my shoulder on my way out.
I make my way up to Empire and see Jasmine already seated. I sit down, and she smiles at me. “You just got fucked, lucky bitch.”
I run a hand through my hair to make sure there are no knots. “Maybe. You?” I ask, looking over her perfectly fixed hair and makeup.
She rolls her eyes. “I need twenty chicken nuggets and a Bible.”
“Why?” I wonder through a laugh at that combination. “Need to bless some chickens?”
“No. I’m starving and need to repent,” she answers, scanning the menu in her hands.
“I didn’t take you to be a religious person.” I chuckle.
“Well, when I’m on my knees, I’m not praying. If that’s what you mean.”
The woman sitting in the booth to our left raises her brows, listening to our conversation. “Just what did you do?” I ask.
“What haven’t I done is more appropriate,” she mumbles, closing the menu and placing it on the table. “Anyway, enough about me. You’re obviously still seeing Cross.”
I nod. “Seems so.”
Jasmine snorts at my vague response. “Well, when a King decides he wants something, there’s no escape.”
I go to ask what she means by that, but my cell beeps. I pull it out of my purse to see it’s another text.
CUNT: Alexa?! Call me ASAP!
