“You’re crazy,” I say at last.
The woman shrugs, her blue eyes showing no glimmer of remorse as she stares straight at me. Stubbornness is usually not a trait I put up with, but with her, it sends sparks shooting straight to my groin. It has already caused several rather rough fantasies of what I would do with such a mouth to fire off into spark in my brain. A brain, I might add, usually focused on blood and betrayal. Still, I hadn’t expected her to invite me up to her room.
“What if I am?” she asks, her tone playful. “Don’t think you could survive me?”
She reaches forward and caresses my bicep, sending need shooting through my arm and chest.
“Something tells me you could handle anything I could throw at you,” she purrs.
I can’t help but smirk.
“Oh, that’s for certain,” I remark. “The question is, could you survive me?”
Her flirtatious smirk grows into an absolutely sexy grin, and another rush of temptation courses through me.
“I would love to find out,” she replies, arching a single brow, clearly intrigued by the idea.
“You know, this little back and forth we’ve been having? It’s the most fun I've had in months,” she tells me. “You’re fun to argue with. And I’d bet you’d be an absolute prince tofuck.”
She said the curse word smoothly, but the twitch in her mouth at the end has me thinking that even though she was acting tough, she isn’t really. Or, at least, doesn’t want to be so tough. I have to admit, as much as she’s frustrated me since she crawled in the cab, I've been having a little fun arguing with her too.
I blatantly rake my eyes down her body again. There's no doubt. Iamattracted her. My body- every part of it- has been hard ever since I got a glance at her. Seeing her naked and ravishing each of those sumptuous curves is certainly appealing. It would also be a good way to ditch the cab and disappear for a few hours, I suppose.
I cock my head, letting my arousal eat away at my frustration until there was nothing left but need.
“You’re absolutely fucking right I am,” I reply, and switch off the taxi’s engine.
Surprise and hunger glitter in the woman’s eyes, and that sultry smile returns.
“Stay right there,” I command, then get out of the cab.
As the valet approaches me, I realize I know him. Yevgeny Prigosh, a very willing errand boy I’ve used multiple times when holding meetings at the Four Seasons. He was good. Quick. Never asked questions. Always showed appreciation for my hefty tips.
“Dobryy vecher,Mr. Pavlovich,” Yevgeny greets me.
“Good to see you, Yevgeny,” I reply, handing him the keys and a wad of cash.
“Be a good man and take this thing at least four blocks south and park it in an alley,” I command. “I don’t care which. I won’t be needing it anymore.”
Yevgeny simply nods and replies, “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
I then walk around to the back door of the cab, and open it for the woman. This might be a one-night stand but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be a gentleman. At least, some of the time.
I reach in, taking her hand, and help her out of the back. Normally it bothers me when women act with familiarity with me, but as she slides herself so intimately into my side and rests her head on my shoulder as we walk through the lobby, it stokes within me that fire she’s already ignited. She and I say nothing to one another as we and a few others step onto the elevator, but even still, the anticipation between us grows.
With the others turn toward the elevator doors, I can’t resist looking over at her. I slide my hand down her back, under the hem of her tight dress, and stroke the naked flesh of her pert backside.
So supple. So soft. Just the right amount of muscle. My cock twitches at the feel of her, and I want her to twitch too. So I hook a finger around her thong and give it a soft tug.
A devilish smirk touches my lips as I watch her eyes widen and her plump, pink lips part in a silent gasp. A rose-hued flush fills her pale cheeks, even as she keeps her eyes facing forward. Wanting more of those subtle reactions, I slide my hooked fingerlower, pleased beyond measure when I touch the damp heat between her legs. I suddenly wonder what she tastes like, and give her thong a tug. My pleasure grows as I watch her lashes flutter and then close, and I can’t resisting leaning down and whispering in her ear, “good girl.”
The soft ding of the elevator doors jolts us both out of the little heated bubble we’ve created, but I smoothly pulled my hand away, fix the hem of her dress, and guide her out.
“Key,” I command, holding my hand out as we stride down the hall.
I watch in satisfaction as the woman holds up her wristlet with both hands, her fingers trembling as she works at the zipper and pulls out the key card.
“Room number?” I ask.
