A special thank you to BlueMonteCarlo for all the work editing this piece. You're are fantastic. To everyone who has read, commented, and continues to read this story, Thank you!
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I shake my head to try to get my brain back in the game. I step off the elevator to find him waiting for me. His eyes twinkle mischievously, and I wonder if he's thinking about the same line I am.
If I had been the one fucking you in the elevator, you wouldn't have noticed if we got caught until I was done with you.
One side of those amazing lips hitch up to show those adorable laugh lines. He holds out his hand to me. "Thinking about something?" He smirks, the confident gleam in his eyes confirming my suspicions.
He is arrogant, but he manages to make it hot. Most guys would make me want to roll my eyes, but this man only makes me wish I had spare underwear.
I take his hand letting him lead me through the overly bright hall way to the only doorway on the floor. I watch my shoes so I don't have to acknowledge the questioning look from the husky man sitting in a chair near the front of Mr. Green Eyes' room. He's dressed in casual clothes, but I can see the butt of a gun at his waist. Mr. Green eyes nods to the man who nods in return and goes back to reading a newspaper. When he closes the door to the suite I lean forward to place a hand on his back so as not to lose track of him in the dark.
"Why do you have a security guard? Are you on parole or something?" He doesn't answer just turns on the lights.
His place is spectacular. The far wall is darkened glass that shows the city scene below us. The floors stretch endlessly with white marble buffed to a high gloss shine. The dark wood tables look like they were once owned by a king of England, silver chandeliers hang in the living room and a matching one over the dining room table, to the right is a built in bar. The living room is broken up by a couch that can sit fourteen. My eyes can't seem to keep from scrolling back and forth over all of the splendor.
"Holy Smokes." I croak.
When I manage to recover what little cool I still have left, I clear my throat and turn to him.
"I take it you are on parole for bank robbery. Let me guess, they got you but not the money?"
He laughs and walks towards a fully stocked bar. "No, and no again, although it's good to know you think so highly of me. It also makes me wonder what kind of people you usually hang out with." He reaches up to take down two shot glasses, pouring an amber colored liquid into them, and offers one to me.
I take it and join him, leaning against the bar. "No parole then?"
"The business pays for it when I'm traveling."
"Oh so you're just passing through?" I'm not sure if I should be happy or sad at not having to see this man again, my lower half is definitely sad, but the upper half is sending off warning bells that say
icebergs ahead proceed with caution
and here I am a woman without brakes.
I swirl my glass, sniffing it cautiously. I can't discern the exact flavor of the poison, but I'm guessing it carries a much larger alcohol per volume content than the wine I'm used to.
I take a sip and immediately feel the canon ball go off in my chest. Evidently someone has lit the damn thing before launching it, because my throat quickly goes up in flames, as well.
I wheeze and cough, fanning myself as the man beside me laughs out loud.
"What in God's name is that?"
I think briefly about running my tongue along the expensive looking rug to help smother the fire, but I have embarrassed myself enough in front of this man.
"It's twenty year old scotch." He takes a sip, letting it swirl over his palette before swallowing as I look on in abject horror.
"Some would say it's one of the best liquors made."
"
Some
must be the name of a hobo you know, right? Let me guess the one on the corner of
Fifth
and
Kline
. He's my favorite, too." I hand him his glass back and walk toward the nearly complete skyline of the city below us that completes the east wall of his suite. I stop long enough to pick up the handcuffs from my purse slipping them subtly on my wrist like a bangle bracelet stashing the key in my bra. I put my other hand to my mouth to try to hold back another cough as I step up to the windows to look down upon the city bustling below us.
It's not long before I can feel him step up behind me. He is so close I can feel the heat of his body against my back. His cologne is a subtle, seductive, musk that combines with his heat to raise the hair on the back of my neck and shoot my hormones straight into
Hustler
territory.
I turn to face him as he steps forward, pressing the length of his body into me. His lips come down, warm and strong on my own. His tongue demands entrance, sliding along the seams of my lips. I open for him; his fingers curl around my face, tilting my head to allow him deeper access to the kiss. My hands curl into his soft, silky, hair and yank his head back as I try to climb his body. His hands cup my ass beneath my skirt, lifting me and holding me in place, as I wrap my legs around his waist.
"Oh, fuck yes." The words are all run together on a long hiss of air as he slams my back up against the glass wall. His kiss is devouring, all teeth, tongue, and sliding hips.
God, he feels so good. I can feel him thick and hard through the soft fabric of his slacks. I claw at the shoulders of his jacket, and he obliges by shrugging out of it, groaning as I wiggle my hips to stroke him.
"Jesus I haven't been this hard for someone since I was fourteen." He kisses my answer away, devouring my lips and any last ounce of reservation I might have about how this night will end.
I reach for his tie, and I'm not surprised to find that it's the real thing. I haven't learned how to tie a tie, or in this case untie one. I have no father and no brothers, so there is no reason to have learned. After several failed attempts with it, he curses, knocks my hands away impatiently, and pulls us away from the wall. I gasp at the unexpected movement; my arms automatically curling around his neck as he takes my weight.
"Hold on." he murmurs against my lips. When I comply, his hands lock securely around the cheeks of my ass, nearly bruising in his strength. He turns us, carrying me into the bedroom, kicking the door open, and tossing me onto the bed as he moves to the end. I take the opportunity to slip the handcuffs and key under the pillows as he makes short work of the tie and moves on to the buttons of his shirt.
The skin that peeks through as each button is opened is nothing short of mesmerizing. Tan skin that is strung taut over muscles that ripple with his every movement; green eye bright like a back lit emerald. His dark hair is wild, standing on end from my fingers, with one beguiling lock falling forward to caress his cheek.
My breath catches in my throat and my lungs decompress as his shirt falls open revealing a six inch swath of tightly defined muscle. I couldn't turn away from this man if someone were standing beside me screaming FIRE. He is beautifully stunning in his perfection and a small voice in the back of my mind whispers that I may be in over my head.
"Take off your shirt." He voice is deeper, strained as he begins undoing the cufflinks at his wrist, tossing them onto the bedside table. They land with a tinkling sound that should have come from a magic wand in a Disney movie. I am be spelled by him as I reach the hem of my shirt and slowly peel it up over my head, tossing it to the side leaving me lying in a black lace bra and grey pencil skirt.
"Now the skirt." His nods his head at me, rolling his shoulders to shrug free of his white shirt as his fingers move to the button on his slacks, opening it, then pausing. His eyes following my hands as they slide to my skirt, and I shimmy the fabric slowly over my stomach, down my hips, letting it slide to my calves. When it reaches my toes, I kick it in an arch to fall at his feet.
His mouth leisurely coils into a devilish smirk as his eyes move from my skirt back up to my face.
"That's so fucking hot." He laughs softly, shaking his head at me.
I smile back, loving the way each time I move, his eyes darken, and the intense way he is always watching makes me shiver. His chest is rising and falling on harsh breaths, his abdomen clenching into defined muscle, then relaxing in an erotic rhythm.
I reach behind my neck, tracing my color bone then moving my hands back to unfasten my necklace.
"Leave it. I like it."
I drop my hands, suddenly unsure what I should do next.
