He’s hard behind the zipper of his jeans, and the friction through the flimsy material of my shorts and panties already has me close.
Like he can hear the same stopwatch running, his hands grip the hem of my top and pull it up. When the A/C blasting from an overhead vent hits my bare skin, goose bumps scatter across my chest, and my already peaked nipples tighten and ache to be touched.
Breaking the kiss, hooded eyes lock with mine before dropping to my chest. And then his mouth is on me. Hot tongue pressed to chilled skin elicits a shiver.
“You’re fucking perfect.” His voice is husky with lust.
Bracing my palms on the counter behind me, I lean back, spine arching, eyes on the ceiling, crown of my head resting against the mirror on the wall.
He moves with me, hovering like I’m prey he’s cornered and is going to devour.
I’ve never felt sexy, but the way he’s looking at me?
I get it now.
Teeth clamp down hard enough to make me gasp.
“I’ve thought about this so many times.” I’m breathless.
Lips and tongue paint a trail that descends down my belly.
“Me too,” he echoes.
He’s slowing everything down, and my chest heaves as I watch.
Fingers curl inside the waistband of my shorts, sliding them down to reveal the scrap of crimson lace I’m wearing underneath.
Eyes locked with mine, pupils blown wide, he rasps, “God, I wanna watch you come.”
Tugging down the lace as far as he can, his tongue drags over me.
Toes curl, eyelids flutter closed, and I begin to question if I’ve truly had sex before because nothing has ever felt this good.
“Ever.” I’m praising, begging, and thanking him all with a single word.
Bang, bang, bang.
The pounding on the door is accompanied by shouting. “Open the door!” It’s a deep voice that leaves no room for argument. “Police need everyone out now!”
He growls in frustration, presses his lips to the spot his tongue was, and releases the fabric from his grasp. The waistband of my shorts snaps back into place as we snap back to reality.
Gripping my hips, he presses a quick kiss to my stomach before it disappears under my T-shirt as I slide it back down.
Another knock, louder this time. “Open the door! I’m not gonna ask again!”
I run my hands through his hair to get it out of his eyes and nod at him. “Open the door,” I whisper.
He only pauses for a second before he reaches behind him and releases the lock.
Ever’s still standing between my legs, his hands resting on my outer thighs, when the door opens and a burly guy I recognize as the bouncer steps in. His eyes go wide when he looks from Ever to me. “Goddamn, girl, are you okay?” he asks, referring to the blood.
Seconds away from being tongue fucked, I guiltily interpret the question a different way. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” I lie, hoping he can’t tell I’m on the cusp of orgasm.
“Can you give us a few minutes to clean up a little and then we’ll be out?” Ever asks.
The bouncer looks at me again for confirmation.
I nod again while my cheeks heat. “Locking the door was my idea.” I don’t think he’s going to leave without reassurance that I’m safe. “Prop the door open if it makes you feel better.”
