At five on the dot, I was already standing at the crosswalk, my nipples peaked, my clit throbbing, and so much excitement—that had absolutely nothing to do with sex—fluttering in my stomach.
I jumped at least six feet in the air (a rough exaggeration) when a hand landed on the small of my back.
“Easy,” Bowen purred. “It’s just me.”
I clutched my chest. “Holy shit, you scared me. What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was waiting for you in the lobby so I could walk you back to the hotel, but you sprinted by so fast it took me a minute to catch up.” With a teasing smile, he smoothed his hand up and down my back. “Is there any reason in particular you’re in such a rush to get back?”
“I may have met someone last night. Tell me, do you help all of your flings cross the street?”
He swayed his head from side to side. “I’m not big on the term fling. But after the way you sucked my cock during round two last night, the least I could do is offer a gentlemanly escort across this busy avenue.”
A loud laugh bubbled from my throat. “I’m not sure talking about me sucking your cock is gentlemanly at all.”
“Depends on who you ask, I suppose.” The walk symbol lit up on the crosswalk and he used his hand to urge me off the curb. Side by side, we fell into step. “So you tell me. Do flings have dinner together or are our activities limited to the bedroom…and the shower…and against the doors…and—”
“You’ve made your point. And I hope we can eat because I’m starving, but you should probably save some of that appetite for eating my pussy later tonight.” A wicked grin curled my lips as he stopped suddenly in the middle of the street. I just kept walking, quite proud of myself for shocking him.
He jogged to catch up. “Right, okay. I made reservations at the hotel steakhouse for five thirty, seven thirty, and ten thirty, not sure which one you’d want. But on that note, I’m making an executive decision.” He ran a finger between the collar of his pressed shirt and his neck as if it had become too tight. “We are a hundred percent sticking with five thirty and going straight there to see if they can get us in early.”
“No complaints here.”
Once we reached the revolving door at the front of the hotel, I stepped inside first. Bowen, however, did not wait for the second slot, instead choosing to slide in behind me. His front became flush with my back as he hooked one arm around my hips, holding me tight. His other hand glided up my stomach. My breath hitched, and I could barely continue walking as his thumb swept the curve at the bottom of my breast.
In a deep voice that caused chills to explode across my skin, he rumbled, “Oh, I don’t expect there will be any complaints out of you tonight.”
A soft moan fluttered from my lips. But never one to be outdone, I arched my back, pressing my ass directly against his cock. “Maybe we should skip dinner altogether.”
Clearly, clearly, I’d forgotten who I was messing with.
Reaching over my shoulder, he slapped his hand against the glass of the revolving door and gave it a hard push to keep it moving. However, that push was not limited to the door. His thickening cock ground into my ass.
I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth. “Well played, sir.”
“I thought so.”
When our semi-circle trip was over, I stepped out of the glass wedge first. “Did you consider how you were going to hide that erection though?” I flashed him a smile over my shoulder then picked up my pace, leaving him stranded with a very noticeable—and mouthwatering—bulge in his slacks.
“You evil woman,” he hissed, jogging to keep up with me. Tossing his arm around my shoulders, he dragged me halfway in front of him and kissed my temple.
Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed our flirty little games. But I wasn’t a monster. The last thing I needed was him getting kicked out of the hotel for walking around with a hard-on. I stepped off to the side, beside a pillar, and pretended to dig around in my purse to give him time to compose himself.
I giggled as he closed his eyes and started mumbling old Braves stats. After a minute, he blew out a ragged exhale and turned his golden eyes back on me.
I smirked. “Feeling better now?”
His lips twitched, but he roughly grabbed my arm and took off toward the hotel restaurant. “I’ll feel better when I’m fucking you from behind so hard you forget the English language. Until then. Dinner, drinks, and Chipper Jones career RBI stats.”
Luckily for both of us, the hostess was able to seat us early at a small two-person table in a secluded corner of the upscale steakhouse. Bowen would surely claim it was fate, though I thought it had more to do with the hundred-dollar bill he slipped her when we arrived.
