Читать книгу Loving You Easy - Roni Loren, Roni Loren - Страница 8

“Suck it.”

The two utterly male words filled the dark space and hit Cora like a knee to the gut, stealing her air. The command wasn’t directed at her, but, God, she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard anything hotter. Suck it. It should’ve sounded stupid. Juvenile. It so didn’t. Her free hand pressed flat against the wall, and she tried to stop breathing altogether.

There was a rustle of movement—the woman getting to her knees, no doubt, and the man showing her what to suck.

Cora decided then and there that she was a bad, bad person because goddamn, she couldn’t make herself leave now. She couldn’t look away. It was the Hayven game manifesting in real life, and she had a front row ticket.

She blinked a few times, trying to focus her vision. Now that she hadn’t looked at her phone for a minute, her eyes were adjusting to the inky darkness. The couple was a few yards away from where Cora had tucked herself between the stacks of plastic crates. She wouldn’t be completely hidden from their view if they looked her way hard enough, but both seemed too involved to bother. The woman was on her knees and had her back to Cora, a long curling ponytail snaking down her spine, and the man had his head down, his focus on what was about to happen. The moment before impact. The moment before pleasure.

Cora held her breath. The whole room seemed to hold its breath. Like air had ceased to move. A still, heavy quiet.

Then, her phone vibrated against her chest, nearly causing her to yelp and give herself away. She cringed and pressed the phone harder against her shirt to make sure no light peeked out before she could hit the button to darken it. Her gaze stayed fixed on the view in front of her, her heart pounding in her ears. Thankfully, her companions didn’t notice anything was amiss. They were too wrapped up in the moment.

The man dragged his palm along the side of the woman’s head and then wound her ponytail around his fist. Once. Twice. Deliberate. Menacing.

Sexy as shit.

Cora couldn’t see the man’s open fly, but his rough grip on the woman’s hair had Cora’s scalp tingling, imagining what that must feel like.

“Open wider,” he commanded. “You’ve been begging for this for how long? Now you’re going to take it all. Hands behind your back.”

The woman moaned and leaned forward, taking him into her mouth and linking her hands together behind her back like some sort of reverse prayer. Her head bobbed as she went to work on him—slow and sensual, taking her time like she was savoring every moment. A hypnotic pace. One Cora was sure she’d never used with a guy.

But as compelling as that view was, Cora found her gaze tracking upward, seeking out the one running this show. The one called sir. The man was tall, broad-shouldered—black hair, maybe. She couldn’t make out much else. But there was an air of authority about him, this cool composure, like he was somehow doing a favor for this woman even though he was the one getting head. Like he was almost . . . bored.

Cora couldn’t move. She barely breathed. She’d given blow jobs before. But she’d never gotten much pleasure from it. It’d always been a favor in hopes that the guy would return the effort. But it felt like she was witnessing something altogether different here, something much more intense, something that might actually turn her on. A challenge. Suck me and see if you can break me. What would make a man like that lose his cool?

Her gaze fell on the hard grip of his hand, watched the knuckles flex with the force of how hard yet controlled he was fucking the woman’s mouth now. In. Out. Deep. Steady. Yes. Like that. She could imagine his thoughts. His inner commands. Suck it like you love it. Take my cock and swallow every inch.

It was something she could imagine Dmitry saying. A rush of warmth settled between Cora’s thighs, turning her panties from damp to embarrassing. She was throbbing there. This shouldn’t flip her switches. She shouldn’t be watching. But seeing one of the scenes from her game played out in real life was damn riveting. She’d never witnessed real life dominance. Hell, she hadn’t known it existed until a few years ago when she’d been interning at the station and had stumbled upon some kinky videos on a suspect’s computer. The guy had turned out to be innocent of anything, but her curiosity had been piqued.

She’d watched her fair share of naughty videos since then, but porn had never pulled it off for her. And the one time she’d considered bringing up the idea of kink to Kevin, she’d chickened out. She hadn’t been able to imagine being that vulnerable with him. There was naked and then there was naked. And she would’ve been mortified if he’d laughed at the suggestion or teased her about it. So, she’d turned to Hayven to explore on her own in a low-risk way.

But as much fun as she had with Dmitry, virtual couldn’t mimic this. This was different. Raw. Dangerous. The woman had to be scared they’d get caught, but she was going to obey. What did that level of edge bring to the sex? Cora imagined it brought a lot, based on how she was feeling just from watching. And even though there was no kinky equipment or elaborate setup, some part of her knew without a doubt what she was witnessing. This man was a dominant. This was a scene.

“This is the only time you’re going to get this cock,” the man said, gravel in his voice. “Better make it count.”

The woman moved faster. Wet, hungry noises drifted from the darkened corner, making it sound like she was the one about to come even though he only had a hand in her hair.

Lord, to be so openly sexual and unashamed about it. Most people would probably judge this woman. She was being used, treated like a whore. But Cora could feel it, the mutual pleasure of this. This was a woman who was getting exactly what she craved and loving it. An unexpected wisp of jealousy wound through Cora.

“You’re going to drink down everything I have,” the man said. “And then you’re going to go out there and kiss your boyfriend on the mouth. I wonder if he’ll be able to taste what a filthy girl you are.”

Cora’s belly dipped. Fuck. The woman’s boyfriend was at the party?

Cora should be appalled.

She couldn’t stop watching.

Her phone vibrated again. She held it tight, but this time, it grazed her silver necklace, making the faintest of noises.

Oh, shit. No. No! She shifted it quickly, silencing it completely, but when she glanced up, the man’s head had lifted.

He was staring her way, his gaze narrowing and then locking on her as his vision probably adjusted. Click. His face was half in shadow but she could see enough. Dark hair, angled jaw, full mouth, Asian. Gorgeous.

She was frozen in the headlights of that look. An apology hovered on her lips. Her feet were ready to run. But he had her pinned. He may as well have had a hand pressed to her chest, forcing her to stay there against the wall.

“That’s right,” the man said, holding Cora’s gaze as the woman continued to pleasure him. “Take it all in. Every bit of it.”

Cora’s mouth went chalky dry. He was talking to her now, not the woman. Taunting Cora. Bringing her into the game. Take it all in. Even without the words, his eyes said as much.

Panic surged. She’d wanted to watch but only while she was invisible. Being seen left her naked. Exposed. Embarrassed.

“You like it a little too much, don’t you?”

The words wrapped around her like barbed wire.

You like it too much. She wanted to react, to flip him off, to show him that he hadn’t gotten to her. That she wasn’t some player in this game.

But then he smiled, this sexy half-smile that made every erogenous part of her clamor to attention.

No. No.

This was fucked up. She yanked her gaze away and tugged off the heels Grace had loaned her. She would not embarrass this woman and let her know someone had been watching. But Cora had to get the hell out of there. Forcing herself not to give one last look, she hauled ass on bare feet out of the hallway and into the blinding light of the party.

The sudden brightness and noise were an assault on her senses, and it took a second for her vision to recover. Her pupils were blown, her breath was too quick, and her back was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She quickly slipped her shoes back on, her legs unsteady and her hands shaky, adrenaline beating through her. She needed to get out of there before the couple exited and she ended up face-to-face with Mr. Exhibitionist. But she’d ridden to the party with Grace, and as Cora scanned the crowd, she didn’t see her friend anywhere.

She started walking anyway. Anything to get her far from that hallway. Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen. Dmitry had sent a few messages and there was another from BigMan telling her that he demanded she speak with him tonight.

What the hell? The blocking system on the site was turning out to be a major fail. She deleted that one and checked Dmitry’s. His last read, “You OK?”

She quickly typed as she walked.

Lenore: Yes. Sorry. Work.

Dmitry: No problem.

No problem. She wished. She had nothing but problems right now. She tossed her phone into her purse and strode forward, looking to get lost in the crowd. Until she could find Grace, she needed to blend in. The guy in the hallway probably hadn’t seen her all that well. She’d been backlit. Her face should’ve been in the dark, her body a silhouette. But she wasn’t going to take any chances. She reached up and pulled the clip out of her messy twist, letting her brown hair fall loose around her shoulders and changing up the outline of what he would’ve seen.

She inhaled through her nose, trying to calm herself. She should be okay. The party was crowded and blending in shouldn’t be a problem.

She moved through the main part of the room, grabbing a glass of wine off a passing waiter’s tray and scanning faces for Grace. Usually her friend was hard to miss, but Cora didn’t see her blond head anywhere. Dammit.

She spotted a table in the farthest spot from the hallway. Two women were sitting there, but there was a chair free. She headed that way and retrieved her phone from her purse so she could text Grace.

The women looked up when she reached their table. Cora smiled. “Hi, do you mind if I sit?”

The older of the two women waved a hand. “Not at all, please do. We were just about to go to the bar anyway.”

“Oh, you don’t have to get up. I—”

But they were already up and gathering their things.

God. She was apparently wearing people repellant tonight. She resisted doing a sniff test to make sure her deodorant was working and then plopped down in one of the chairs. The last thing she wanted to do was sit at a table alone again, but she needed to text Grace, and standing around with no one to talk to looked even more conspicuous. She set down her wine so she could type two-thumbed.

Cora: Where r u??? #911

The message sent, but as Cora stared at the screen, no little dots popped up to indicate that Grace was responding. “Come on, where the hell are you?”

She opened up her favorites list, ready to call Grace until she answered, but before she could hit the button to dial, a hand planted on the table right next to Cora’s wine, rattling the glass.

She startled but didn’t look up. That hand was all she could focus on. Because somehow, she knew. Tan skin and long fingers, the edge of a colorful tattoo peeking out from a shirt cuff.

Cora prayed for a trap door. An eject button. An invisibility cloak.

None appeared.

In one fluid motion, the chair across from her was pulled out and dragged closer. Her guest slid into the spot. Uninvited. Unapologetic. His mere presence demanded she respond. There was a sense of . . . provocation. Almost a dare. Cora forced herself to look up.

Shit. The curse almost slipped out.

It was worse than she’d thought—the looking. The guy could’ve just stepped off the red carpet. Charcoal suit, plum-colored T-shirt, a mess of perfectly styled jet-black hair, and a face that was so beautiful it’d almost seem feminine if not for the hard angle of his jaw and the shadow of stubble. This was a guy who knew he looked good and wasn’t afraid to use it like a weapon.

He gave her an unreadable smile. “This seat taken?”

Her throat felt like it’d narrowed to nothing, but she forced words out. “Seems a little late to ask.”

The man’s coal eyes sparkled, like he was in on some eternal joke. And he was. He knew. Somehow in this sea of people he’d picked out the girl from the dark. He knew she’d just watched him get off in the hallway, and she couldn’t play it off.

“I’m sorry.” She blurted—too loud, too sharp. One hundred percent without grace. Fantastic.

He leaned back in his chair, grabbed a drink off a passing waiter’s tray, and hooked an ankle over his knee, looking like he could literally be comfortable anywhere with anyone. “You were there first. Maybe I should apologize. Though, what you were doing all alone in the dark has got me curious.”

She cleared her throat, trying to tap the brakes on her body’s railroading response to this man. He was a stranger, but they’d shared this intensely sexual moment. Her wires were crossed, her body confused. “I was just trying to find a quiet place to make a call. But I . . . couldn’t get a good signal. Then . . . you walked in with your . . . a woman.”

He smiled and his gaze strayed toward the bar. Cora couldn’t help but follow it. It’s like he’d put his hand on her head to make it turn. At the bar, a woman with a long ponytail and blue maxi dress was in the arms of a man with salt-and-pepper hair. They were kissing—a little too passionately for this kind of party.

And Cora couldn’t help it—she had the thought. Can he taste this man’s come on his girlfriend’s lips? The thought tripped a wire inside her. One it shouldn’t. Her cheeks burned. “If you’re worried that I’m going to say anything, I’m not. Not my business.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” Her companion looked back to her, a secret smile playing around the edges of his mouth. “But it wouldn’t matter if you did. He already knows. He was the one who set it up.”

Cora’s lips parted. On some level, she knew that kind of thing happened. She was no innocent. But she couldn’t hide her knee-jerk reaction or shake off the sense that this man was toying with her. “Then why did you come over here? If you’re not worried about me outing you?”

He frowned, a line appearing between his dark brows. “I don’t recognize you. Have you been to one of Grant’s parties before?”

She straightened. Technically, she wasn’t crashing this thing. Grace’s boss had been the one to get the invite and had let Grace come on his behalf with a plus one. But Cora suddenly felt one hundred percent out of her league and like she’d been left out of some joke. Not that she was going to let this guy know that. “No. Haven’t had time to get to one before now.”

“Well, then I’m over here because things seen out of context by those who don’t know what they’re looking at can be misconstrued and get people in trouble. From the outside looking in, what happened could look . . . non-consensual. I needed to make sure you understood.”

“You needed to cover your ass. Got it,” she said, unsure why it came out with a biting edge to it. “You’re good.”

His eyebrow arched and he shifted forward in his seat, bracing his forearms on his thighs and pinning her with that gaze. “Plus, I thought I should know the name of the woman who chose to stay and watch while another woman sucked me off.”

The words hit her like a stun gun. Zap! And all she could hear in her head was him saying, Suck it.

Suck. It.

She should be offended, disgusted. They should not be having this conversation. Instead, her heart tried to pound out of her chest and her skin went tingly. “You don’t need my name.”

“Mmm.” He nodded. “True. But you want to tell me anyway. Just like you wanted to stay longer and watch it all.”

The words were so self-assured that she would’ve laughed if they hadn’t rung through her like the truest of truths. “I—”

“Cora! There you are!”

The familiar voice came from behind her, snapping Cora out of the spell she’d fallen under. Grace.

Mr. Exhibitionist gifted Cora with a smirk and leaned back out of her space.

Grace swooped around on her left, her eyes meeting Cora’s, question marks there. Cora knew this look. It was the do-you-need-me-to-rescue-you-or-should-I-be-your-wing-woman? look.

Cora bolted up out of her chair. “Hey, oh my God, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I needed to talk to you about. . . . that thing.” Her voice was so high and unlike her normal tone that she may as well have sucked helium.

Sucked. The word twined around her girl parts, set things aflame.

Fuck.

She grabbed Grace’s hand and sent an over-the-shoulder look to the man who’d knocked her completely on her ass, but he was already getting to his feet.

He tucked his hands in his pockets, and though there was an affable expression on his face, his gaze held something intent when it met hers. “Nice meeting you, Cora.”

For a second, she didn’t know how he knew her name, but then she remembered Grace had said it. And before she could respond, he turned on his heel and strolled back into the crowd.

Grace watched him go and then spun around, putting her back to him. She gave Cora this wide-eyed look of wonder. “Holy shit, who the hell was that? And why did you let me rescue you from him?” She peered over her shoulder for one last look. “Jesus. He’s like . . . whoa.”

Cora let out a long breath, one she may have been holding since Mystery Man had sat down. But she couldn’t stop watching him walk away. The man could wear a suit. “I don’t know his name. It’s . . . a long story.”

Grace shook her head. “Not long enough. Tell me you gave him your card.”

“I . . . forgot.”

“Cora! You need to go—”

She grabbed Grace’s arm before she could go after the guy. “No. Stop. I’m done.”

The hope on Grace’s face crashed into a petulant scowl. But it wasn’t going to work this time. There was no way Cora was willingly having another conversation with that man. She’d barely survived the first. Talk about bringing a knife to a gunfight.

Hell, she hadn’t even had a knife.

She’d brought a spork.

Online, she was daring. She was kinky. She was brave. But tonight had proven what she’d always known. She was no Lenore.

And never would be. She had no idea how to handle men like that or how to play in those shark-infested waters.

She pulled out her phone and messaged Dmitry.

Back to her reality. The virtual one.

The safe one.