Page 2 of Deranged
He snorted. “In this place? Seems like an unsanitary proposal.”
Disappointment clogged my throat. A brush off, of course. Why would he take the disheveled, no makeup wearing, mess of a woman home when the bar was packed with silicone-laced options. “Oh yeah, the restrooms here are one step away from condemnation.”
I scooted on my stool, about to attempt a lady like exit. Which would probably not happen considering how much I’d already drunk tonight.
He snatched his hand out and dragged me closer by the belt loop. I was proud I didn’t stumble into him. “But I have a pretty spacious back seat without the risk of hepatitis.” He tilted his head to scan my face.
I threw back the last shot, tossed my money on the counter, and gestured toward the door. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t pay his tab, only waved at George. His being a regular put me at ease. Despite that, I still got a lovely thrill walking out of the bar with a complete stranger knowing he’d be inside me in mere minutes.
He steered me by the elbows, like a man who led people around often but didn’t want to risk touching them inappropriately.
I grabbed one of his hands and slapped it across my tit.
He sputtered but let me trap him there, caged under my palm. “You like getting reactions out of people.”
I shrugged. “It’s my thing. I’m pretty good at reading people. I just wanted to see if you’ll be able to handle what I’m about to do to you.”
“And the verdict?” he asked, his question releasing steam into the chilled air.
I smiled and dragged him to me by his charcoal tie. No words necessary for that message. He backed me toward an SUV until my bare skin hit ice cold steel. Wow, up close he stunned me. High, sculpted cheekbones, deep gray eyes, a couple freckles, and an unruly mop of dirty blond hair which needed a good cut. I tousled it and then trailed my finger down the straight jut of his nose.
He pressed into me, aligning his warm body along mine. Well-muscled, tall. It didn’t matter anymore what kind of medicine he practiced.
He tucked his fingers under my chin, tilted my face up, and descended.
I let him take control and melted into him. The shots had washed away the spicy tang of the cigarettes, and I fell into the whiskey drunk feeling he elicited from me.
After too few seconds of his plush lips on mine, he leaned back. “You’re not too drunk for this, are you?”
Even if I were, I wasn’t about to tell him the truth and deprive myself of what happened next. “Nope, I was just getting started when you showed up.”
He ducked his head again, this time giving more of himself, nipping, kissing, sucking, and generally driving me crazy with his mouth.
I gave as good as I got, threading my fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck. I pulled gently, which earned me a little moan. It rocked through me, a soft ripple preceding the wave I knew would follow.
I dragged my hand to his belt buckle, and he stopped me, clutching my fingers between his own. “Stop.”
He released me and dug in his pockets, pulled out his key, and hit the unlock button. I stepped away and let him open the door. No dead bodies inside—that boded well.
“After you.” He motioned for me to climb in.
I had to use the door to hike myself up into the tall vehicle. The leather was still warm from the day’s heat as I scooted to the far side.
After climbing in and closing the door, he reached out for me. I caught his hands and guided them to my waist. It was all the encouragement he needed.
I licked my lips in anticipation. He didn’t kiss my face, but trailed warm wet lips down my neck. Every few centimeters, he planted a bite to bloom, a trail of pain to the curve of my breast he could access at the opening of my V-neck shirt.
“Clothes off,” he said huskily into my cleavage. I pulled away enough to drag my shirt over my head. He’d already unhooked my bra. I threw it away, and my hands were free.
Even with nothing but streetlights barely illuminating the back seat, I watched the hunger cross his features as he gazed down my body. Too thin, breasts too small, scars from IV’s and operations dotted my torso. All of my insecurities fell away under the look he gave me. He’d eat me alive, and I’d enjoy every second. I dragged him back and dug his shirt out of his pants so I could run my hands up his taut belly and pecs. He sighed when my fingers met bare flesh.
“You feel so good,” he said against my belly now. A talker, huh. I didn’t mind as long as he didn’t get weird.
I sat back so he could get better access. He unbuttoned my jeans, wiggled them down my legs and tossed them somewhere. My panties followed.
“Fuck,” he whispered, staring down at my now completely naked body.
