One sip. He swallowed, savoring her taste. Licked his lips, in case a trace of her clung there. He lowered her skirt and rose to his feet. Her hair was so shiny and perfect, he was loath to disturb it, so he nudged it aside only the barest amount to kiss her neck, his hands tightening on her hips as she gave a breathy moan. Her head turned, her lips seeking his. Her breath was coming fast, pupils dilated.
“No matter what happens the rest of the night,” he growled, a stranger having gained control of his mouth. A stranger he liked, one he had buried long ago. “Remember the first tongue you had on you tonight was mine.”
Since he wasn’t capable of stopping, he pulled her close and pressed a kiss on her lips. He meant for it to be sweet and gentle, but he couldn’t control his pent-up need. It quickly turned blisteringly sexual, especially once she tugged at his lip with her teeth.
He cradled her neck and tilted her head, angling her so he could fuck her mouth with his. And that’s what this was, the darkest, basest approximation of sex. He wanted to rip off her dress and pull her to her knees and sink inside of her right here and right now.
Wait.
Yes. If he waited, it could only be better.
They separated, both breathing hard. He studied Akira’s face, her cheeks flushed, her red lips slick. “Will you remember?”
“I will.” Her smile came, quick, fleeting, and oddly, painfully sad. But genuine, not one of her practiced deals. “Who are you?” The question was wondering and a little frightened.
He gave her a blinding smile, his chest expanding. “I don’t know anymore. Let’s find out.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jacob wasn’t sure what he expected when he entered a hedonistic den of sin, but a nice, sophisticated cocktail party wasn’t at the top of his list.
There was a chandelier in the salon, but no one was swinging from it. The Oriental rug was lush, but naked bodies weren’t rolling around on it. No one was wearing a mask and advancing on him menacingly with a butt plug as soon as he entered.
Anticlimactic.
Roughly twenty people were gathered in a sitting room which was larger than the entire first floor of his house. He patted himself on the back when he realized most of the men were dressed as he was, though a few had also donned ties.
The women, for the most part, wore cocktail dresses, a couple on the risqué side. He might be biased, but none of them were as beautiful as Akira. None of them, not even the ones who cast him curious, hungry looks, made him want to shove them into a dark corner and inhale them.
Jacob took a sip of his beer and leaned against the bar, instinctively seeking Akira out in the crowd. In here, her vibrancy was dialed up to blinding. The air around her crackled, and guests turned and looked when she laughed or spoke.
She’d been drawn into a conversation by a group of women as soon as they had entered. She had nodded to the bar and told him to grab a drink. He had gratefully retreated.
Your usual M.O. Stop observing. Start participating.
A man came to stand next to him. “Scotch,” he said to the bartender, his voice smooth. And familiar.
Jacob cast him a glance, and then did a double take. Jesus. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he supposed, but a part of him hadn’t really expected to see the man from that charity dinner, the man who had screwed Akira while he watched. Silly assumption. If the guy was okay with Jacob watching him fuck Akira at a party for a nonprofit organization, why wouldn’t he be here tonight?
Remy was even better looking out of the fluorescent lights of that storage closet. Great. Jacob rubbed his jaw, thankful he had, at least, shaved for tonight.
As if he was used to perusals from men and women, the other man grinned at him and accepted the drink from the bartender, his blue eyes dancing. “Hello, Jacob.”
Jacob tipped his head. “Hi. Remy, right?”
“Yeah.” His grin broadening, the man stuck out his hand. “Thought I recognized you, standing over here by yourself. First time at Akira’s, huh?”
Jacob accepted it, raising an eyebrow at the pressure Remy exerted on his fingers. Damn it, he hated when men played this particular game. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Do what?” Remy asked, still smiling. But now Jacob caught the sharp edge to his smile.
Internally sighing, Jacob returned the squeeze at only a fraction of what he was capable of. Still, Remy winced, his hand immediately loosening its grasp.
“That’s what,” Jacob said apologetically. “I’m kind of strong, and if I’m not wrong, you’re a model of some sort and probably need your appendages intact.”
“Uh, yeah.” Remy surreptitiously massaged his hand with the other. “I’m not exactly a model, but I do work with my hands. Thanks.”
Jacob shrugged, resigned to feeling like a large, lumbering oaf around the lean and elegant man. “No problem.”
