Sierra giggles as she shifts the angle of her phone, holding it in the air above them as she says, “How about filming and kissing?”
Torrance grins, his arms twining around her as he murmurs, “Fine with me. I don’t mind who watches as long as I get a taste of this sweet little mouth.”
As they melt into a hot, sloppy kiss, Nix leans down to whisper into my ear, “I do mind who watches. Come on.”
His hand finds mine, his grip firm enough to make my pulse stutter.
He starts toward the back of the bar, drawing me with him. “We can’t use the family bathroom,” I insist softly, even as a part of me is arguing that there are worse things than getting railed under a stuffed squirrel in bondage gear. And really, the fact that I popped my head in to take a peek at the family bathroom after I used the ladies’ room earlier proves I’m not as innocent or grossed out by getting it on in a public bathroom as I pretend.
“Of course, we can’t,” Nix says, casting a heated glance over his shoulder as he steers us past the mechanical bull. “Trust me.”
The words shut me up fast, because…I do.
I trust him.
Trust him more than I think I’ve realized until this second, as he turns down a narrow hallway, moving quickly past a door marked “Office: Staff Only,” into another, even darker passage. But even as the light grows so dim I can barely see his light blue T-shirt in front of me, I don’t hesitate. I trust that he knows whatI want, what I like, and would never take me somewhere I’m not happy to be.
I’m still struggling to wrap my head around the enormity of what that implies, when he darts to our left, pulls me inside a small room, and shuts the door firmly behind us.
This space is dark, too, but my eyes have adjusted enough that I can make out the floor-to-ceiling metal shelves lining the walls, stocked with dusty bottles of moonshine, novelty glasses, cocktail napkins, and several cardboard boxes. A single bare bulb dangles overhead, but neither of us reaches for the chain to turn it on.
I simply drive my fingers into Nix’s hair as he pushes me back against the shelf, both of us moaning in relief as we crash into each other all over again. Our kiss is harder this time, deep and eager, Nix’s teeth catching my bottom lip as his hands grip my waist hard enough to send fresh heat rushing between my legs.
The shelf digs into my back, but I don’t care.
I’m too grateful to be alone with him.
I sigh against his lips, and he swallows the sound, his tongue sliding hot and slick against mine. I claw at his shirt, fingers digging into the soft cotton as I pull him closer, while his hands skim down over my hips, my ass, gripping fistfuls of my skirt and dragging it up around my waist.
“Yes,” I whisper, celebrating the increased freedom of movement by wrapping one leg around his waist.
He presses closer, grinding against me through his jeans and my panties. The feel of his erection through the fabric is enough to make me even wetter. “Fuck, Charlotte. You feel so good.”
“So good,” I echo, pulse spiking as he nips at my neck, the feel of his teeth on my skin making my desire spike hard and fast.
His fingers hook into the edge of my panties, a tortured sound ripping from his throat as he feels how wet I am. I echothe sound as he rubs and circles, exploring every swollen inch before he pushes inside.
My head falls back as he stretches me with his fingers, all while licking and biting his way up and down my throat.
Glasses rattle overhead, but before I can suggest we should shift to lean against the door, he breathes, “Need you on my mouth, Char.” His voice is rough, strained, and his hands shake as he shoves my skirt even higher. “Need you soaking my fucking tongue while you come for me.”
Before I can fully recover from the hotness of that announcement, he’s on his knees, dragging my panties to the floor before guiding my leg over his shoulder.
Then his mouth is on me—hot and wet and hungry—and the room turns upside down.
My hands fly to his hair, holding on tight as he kisses my pussy with the same intensity with which he devoured my mouth. Every stroke of his tongue, every moan of encouragement, even the way he grips my ass so tight it hurts a little as he rocks me forward, pinning me to him, is as tender as it is raw, desperate. He isn’t just trying to get me off. This is an offering, an act of worship that fills my chest with feelings I’m not ready to name.
Feelings that make tears sting at the backs of my eyes even as I begin to tremble…
“So damned sweet,” he rumbles against my swollen skin. “Fuck, baby, I can’t get enough of you. Never going to get enough of you.”
“God, Nix. God, it’s so good,” I whimper as my pressure builds low in my belly, tight and coiling.
Winding tighter, tighter…
I buck into him, chasing the bliss bearing down, and he meets me at the edge, circling, sucking, moaning against my clituntil the vibration tips me over. My orgasm rips through me, hard and fast, stealing my breath as my head falls back.
An almost tortured sound of pleasure wrenches from the back of my throat, joining the rattling of the glasses on the shelf. I arch closer to his mouth, sex pulsing against his tongue in waves as he continues to devour me with a single-minded devotion that leaves me boneless.
