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Naughty Nights: A Bad Boy Romance Page 3
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“Don’t be a jerk,” I said, but I couldn’t help smiling as I said it.
He grinned. “Seems like if my touch tickles, the only way to fix that is for me to stop touching you … or to touch you harder.”
I rested my chin on his chest and looked up at him. He cocked his eyebrow, clearly wanting me to choose. I mentally debated for only a few seconds. It would be nice to knock that smug smile off his face and pick the former, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. “Harder,” I whispered.
His fingers remained maddeningly still. “Sorry, can you speak up?”
I rolled my eyes and squirmed against his erection. “You know you want to touch me.”
He removed his hand from my thigh entirely. “Yes, I do. But the question is, do you want me to touch you?”
I never would have guessed that he could be so infuriating, but I had to admit, it was turning me on. I couldn’t very well deny it since he could probably feel my racing heartbeat pounding against his bare chest. “Yes. Please touch me harder, Luke.”
That was all it took. A second later, his strong fingers were pushing the lace fabric into me, moving up and down my slit, occasionally flicking against my clit, making me simultaneously shiver and moan.
Determined to make him feel as good as he was making me feel, I grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed him hard. His lips parted, and he plunged his tongue into my mouth at the same time one of his strong, thick fingers snaked underneath my panties and entered me. I shrieked, but my cries were muffled by his warm lips and skillful tongue.
I brought my other leg up so that I was straddling his torso. From that position, I could feel the prominent bulge under his jeans press against the front of my panties. Without breaking the kiss, I put my hands in his hair, tugging, teasing, playing.
He put a second finger inside me, and I just about died of pleasure. I must have been quite wet because his long fingers glided in easily. I ground myself against his hand, but then I went still, wondering if I was hurting his cock underneath me. I was uncertain for a moment. Should I unzip his fly? But I wasn’t ready for that yet, was I? Then Luke’s thumb found my clit and all rational thought left my mind.
It was almost too much sensation … his warm, insistent lips, his tongue in my mouth, his hard chest underneath my breasts, his fingers moving in and out of me. I writhed on top of him like I was being electrocuted. His thumb sped up, flicking across my clit, going faster, almost as if it were his tongue. And damn, wasn’t that a delicious thought.
My pulsed raced as the orgasm built inside me. Gasping for air, I pulled my head up, moaning, making short little gasping sounds.
“Come on, babe … come for me,” Luke crooned. His free hand moved up my side and pushed between our bodies. It slipped inside my lace bra, cupping me, tracing around my hard nipple.
He gave it a light pinch at the same time his fingers pushed into me as far as they could go. I cried out, my breath leaving me in short, uneven gasps. Then I froze as the orgasm exploded through me, and I shrieked again. I clenched around his fingers as I rode the orgasm out. Unable to even hold my head up anymore, I collapsed against his chest.
He eased his fingers out of me, but still kept his thumb pressed lightly against my clit. My body jolted with aftershocks, and Luke chuckled as another one shot through me, making me flinch.
Slowly, I slid off of him until I was leaning against his side. It was a while before I got my breathing under control. Okay, mostly under control.
He was looking at me with a smile that was part tender and part smug. That was fine with me. He’d given me an amazing orgasm, and he had a right to feel smug about his skills. I smiled up at him through my post-orgasmic bliss and ran my hand down his tight abs. I slid a finger under his waistband and undid the button. It was definitely his turn.
I pressed my breasts against his side and kissed his neck while my hand delved lower, teasing his zipper open. His cock was a hot, hard bundle under the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. It jerked when I cupped it in my palm. His skin was burning to the touch, straining against my hand.
I caught his eye and gave him a wink, and then placed a series of kisses past his throat, down his chest, leaving him in no doubt where I would end up. But then his free hand came up, caught my chin. He raised my head up to his and kissed me firmly. I kept rubbing his hard cock, but I was surprised.
“Not that. Not yet. Not tonight,” he said in response to my questioning look.
What? The first blow job I’ve been tempted to give in a hell of a long time, and he wasn’t interested? My hand paused on his stiff cock, but then he arched his back, lifting his hips off the bed, pressing against me. “That, you can keep doing,” he whispered. “But not your mouth. You’re not ready.”
That was a little insulting. Who was he to tell me that? Miffed, I rubbed harder, and he groaned again. I liked turning him on, but still … “Who says you get to determine when I’m ready?
“I do,” he said simply.
He was being maddening again. But something about his tone when he took charge like that really got to me. I stroked his rigid length harder, and I wrapped one leg around his, subtly rubbing myself against his firm thigh.
I was getting excited again, and I reached down and cupped his balls, squeezing gently, before resuming stroking his cock. I was breathing harder myself when it occurred to me to ask, “So, according to you, when will I be ready?”
His eyes were closed, and he seemed to have totally given himself over to the sensation. I felt his muscles tense under me, and I thought he wasn’t going to answer, but after a long moment, he said, “When you beg for it.”
Warmth pulsed through my body at his words. His cock swelled under my hand, and I knew he was close. I was too. He must have known this, because he pulled me halfway on top of him. As I moved my hand more frantically over his cock, he brought his arm down and found my clit, still wet from before.
In only a matter of seconds, I was on the brink. He came first, erupting in a thick stream. I milked his cock while enjoying my own full-body tremors. I shuddered to a climax just as he was finishing his, and collapsed, half on top of him, completely spent.
I wiped my hand on his jeans, but I was too tired to do much else. I lay with my cheek on his chest, feeling it rise and fall from his still-heavy breathing. By the time I’d caught my breath, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.
Luke's arms came around me, holding me close. I felt like I could stay in his embrace forever.
Chapter Four
A LOUD NOISE rocketed me from a deep sleep into an upright position. Blinking, I looked around. Sunlight peeked around the edges of the blinds. The sound came again. Crap, what was that?
“Crap, what was that?” The masculine voice startled me even more than the banging noise.
Struggling to get my bearings, I squinted at the shirtless man next to me. Damn, he looked good in the morning. Stubble agreed with him. But what was he doing here? We hadn’t slept together—we’d stopped, right? After one hell of an amazing orgasm, I remembered. Or two, actually, but who was counting.
“Housekeeping!” The knocking at the door echoed through the room again.
Luke looked as sleepy as I felt, but awareness was creeping into his expression. “You don’t usually get housekeeping on Saturdays, do you?”
“No. They come on Mondays and Thursdays.”
“Shit! Barbara must know I’m in here.”
“How could she know that?” I pulled the sheet closer to my chest even though his shirt was still mostly covering me.
“My car’s out in the lot, so she knows I’m somewhere around. If she catches me in your room, she’ll fire me.”
I had to pull myself together—my friend was in trouble. “I’ll send them away. It’ll be okay.”
I hopped off the bed, tugging the wrinkled white shirt down to cover my ass. I supposed it was a little late for that after he’d had his hands all over my backside, but still. It felt
different now. It was daytime.
I padded barefoot over to the door and looked out the peephole. A young woman with a large cart was standing there, getting ready to knock again. About ten feet away, her image distorted from the glass, lurked the Barracuda. She looked pissed. Luke must be right, she did know he was here. Or at least she suspected.
I took a deep breath and spoke loudly. “My room is fine, thanks. They cleaned it a few days ago.”
The housekeeper looked at Barbara, saw her nod, and knocked louder. “Housekeeping!”
The hand on my shoulder made me jump. “You’re going to have to open up or Barbara won’t quit,” Luke whispered. “But leave the chain on.”
I nodded, steeled my courage, and turned to face the door. Luke caught my arm and turned me toward him. “Might not be a great idea to answer the door in my shirt,” he said quietly, a hint of a smile on his face.
Oh. Right. I dashed into the bathroom, unbuttoning as I went, and emerged a moment later tying my silky maroon robe around my waist. In spite of the situation, it was gratifying to see Luke’s attention drawn to the rather short and slinky robe.
“Go hide,” I whispered, meaning the bathroom, but he stepped to my other side so he’d be shielded by the door.
Another loud knock left me no time to argue. I disengaged the deadbolt and opened the door a few inches. “I said, my room is fine. I don’t need housekeeping today.” I was careful to put a touch of annoyance in my voice and found that it wasn’t hard to do. I’d been sound asleep before the knocking started.
The housekeeper, a woman in her early twenties, looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I’m supposed to clean this room today.”
“You woke me up,” I said, feeling guilty even as the words left my lips. It wasn’t her fault. Barbara was making her do this.
“I’m sorry, but I have to clean in there.”
Now I was getting genuinely angry. “No, you really don’t. I’ve told you my room is fine, and I don’t like being disturbed on a Saturday morning.”
It would have been nice if that had settled it, but then Barbara walked into view. As per usual, she was wearing a tight dress that showcased ample cleavage.
“Good morning, Ms. Squires. I forgot to tell you there’s a new cleaning schedule. Yvonne will only be a few minutes.” The woman’s voice was cool and professional, but her beady eyes seemed to be trying to look through me to the interior of the room.
“As I’ve said, I don’t need housekeeping today. I was trying to sleep.”
A sudden touch on my back made me start and bang my shoulder against the door. A firm finger was tracing a curvy line, pushing the smooth fabric against my skin. Really? He thought that this was an appropriate time for a back rub? A second later, his finger traced down my spine from neck to waistline. Suddenly, I remembered a game I’d played as a child. Someone would trace letters on another person’s back and ask them to guess the word. That could have been an I. Or a lower case L.
I pressed my body more firmly into the gap between the door and the wall, doing my best to stare down the hotel manager. In the meantime, Luke traced what seemed to be a C. And then a K. ‘Ick?’ He’d picked now to remind me that he didn’t like his cougaresque manager? Oh wait … maybe it was ….
“Sick!” I practically shouted. “I’m not feeling well today. That’s why I was still in bed. So if you’ll excuse me … ” I coughed twice, aware that Luke’s hand was still firm and warm on my back.
The housekeeper and Barbara looked at each other. Finally, the Barracuda backed off. “Well, in that case, I’m sorry we disturbed you.” I wasn’t sure if there was a sarcastic tone in her words or not. “I hope you feel better.”
I nodded and shut the door, hurriedly locking the deadbolt. I turned to Luke, but he put his fingers over his lips and tilted his head toward the door. I looked out the peephole again, and sure enough, Barbara was still right there.
I turned back to Luke, worried. He looked upset too. He went over to the TV, flicked at the remote, and found a news channel. He increased the volume. That would help a little if anyone was listening at the door. I took a few steps toward him, but then changed my mind and took one more glance into the hall. And saw Barbara, pulling out her phone.
Alarmed, I pivoted toward Luke. Where was his phone? He’d just woken up, so it probably wasn’t in his pocket. I looked back out the door—Barbara was dialing now.
In a complete panic, I raced past the kitchenette. Luke whispered, “What?” but I was too busy looking around. Finally, I spotted it. It was on the far side of the bed on the nightstand.
There was no time. If it rang, she’d hear it and know he was here. I dove across the bed, landing on my belly, my hand outstretched. My finger tips touched it just as it lit up. Snagging it, I shoved it under the pillow and slammed my body down on top of it just as it started to vibrate.
Wait, it was on vibrate? Cautiously, I pulled the phone out from under the pillow and stared at the screen that simply read “Work.”
Luke’s shadow moved across me. “I had the ringer off. But thank you,” he said, his eyes taking in my sprawled legs, my black panties no doubt fully on display since my robe had ridden up nearly to my waist. “I really appreciate the effort.”
* * *
“What are we going to do?” I whispered. I’d taken a quick shower, and was now dressed in shorts and a scooped-neck top. Luke had used the bathroom too, but he’d declined the t-shirt I’d offered him—thankfully. He still looked smoking hot with his black jeans, bare chest, and bare feet even though he was currently pacing around the room.
“I don’t know, but I’ve got to get out of here without her seeing.” He’d already told me that the windows didn’t open—something I’d never realized myself, being a huge fan of air conditioning.
He ran his fingers through his hair, making it look sexily tousled. “Can you poke your head out the door, see if they’re still around?”
I nodded and headed to the door, but Luke caught my arm as I passed. “Damn. You look good,” he said.
“Thank you.” I’m pretty sure I blushed as I said it.
He grinned and let out a reluctant chuckle. “You always look good, but what I meant was, you don’t look sick.”
Oh. Oops. I’d better at least put the robe on again. I grabbed it and took a few steps toward the bathroom.
Luke sighed. “Seriously? After last night you can’t even change in front of me?”
I blushed again. It did seem kind of prudish of me. After all, he’d had his hands all over the skin I was now reluctant to expose. But everything seemed so different in the light of day.
Luke moved closer. “Come on, Darcy. I’m probably gonna be fired today, and I need this crappy job. I need the money to pay my tuition. Please, give me something to make this day suck a little less.”
Well, when he put it like that … and when he was looking at me like that. I slowly undid the button of my shorts. Maybe some women would have started with their shirt in this situation, but I knew the shirt would keep me covered for a few seconds longer. I was embarrassed, of course, but I was also getting very turned on. Was he?
A quick look at his face showed that I had his attention, but maybe I could do a little more to keep it. After all, if I was going to do this, I might as well do it right. I deliberately only unzipped my shorts halfway. That made them tighter when I peeled them off my hips, down to my thighs. Okay, maybe I was wiggling a lot more than necessary, but Luke didn’t seem to mind. I definitely had his full attention now.
Finally, my shorts hit the floor, and I kicked them away. Now the shirt. I crossed my wrists and grasped the bottom hem. Slowly, I lifted my arms, revealing a triangle of purple panties, held together with thin strings across my hips. Yes, I’d put on my best bra and panty set. Perhaps I hadn’t known I’d be doing this, but I wasn’t a moron. You don’t put on mismatched granny undies with a hot guy in your room.
Slowly I moved my arms upwards, revealing my
breasts that I hoped were displayed nicely by the low-cut purple bra. I stretched my arms above my head, knowing that this action lifted my breasts. But hey, that’s how you get a shirt off, right?
I freed one arm and then the other and tossed the shirt on the bed. I loved the feeling of soft tendrils of hair resettling on my shoulders, tickling my neck and the tops of my breasts.
Luke’s gaze had gone all hazy. He seemed mesmerized. At long last, he said, “Damn, you look good,” but in a completely different tone than before. I deliberated for a minute and then decided that he deserved the back view, too. After all, he really was having a bad day.
I turned slowly and walked over to the full-length mirror across from the kitchenette. I could feel his gaze over my skin and knew it was resting on the triangle of soft fabric covering—barely covering—my ass.
I looked in the mirror, and tried to see myself as Luke might. Like most women, I was usually pretty critical of my body, but there’s something about wearing your sexiest underwear—plus having the admiring eyes of a hot man on you—to make you think twice. I actually thought I looked pretty good—and even better when Luke moved behind me, studying our reflection in the mirror.
He draped his arm over my shoulder, his warm skin heating up my side. With me in my bra and panties and him bare-chested, we looked like the cover of a steamy romance novel. I giggled at the thought, but then he pressed closer, and the hard bulge pushing against my hip made the laughter die in my throat.
Facing me, he murmured, “You look gorgeous … but too neat. Too healthy. Maybe I need to mess you up a bit.” His head lowered and his lips nuzzled against mine.
I breathed out gently against his lips. “Maybe it would help if my face were all flushed,” I suggested.
“On it,” Luke whispered, and then his lips were pressing against mine, teasing them open, revisiting all the delicious sensations from last night. I closed my eyes and reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling my breasts lift and push against him. His arms encircled my waist, pulling me in, and I could feel his erection pressing hard against my stomach, so close to where I wanted it to be.