Page 23 of Betting on her Best Friend
Her eyes drifted closed. “Oh, God,” she rasped, her throat suddenly as arid as the desert.
“My thought exactly when I saw you sucking on that candy.” His head dipped lower and lapped at the candy necklace around the base of her throat. His fingers worked her over in a slow and sensual manner that matched the way he licked and suckled at the candy and her neck. “Show me again, Aly.”
Show him… Her eyes flew open. He couldn’t mean what she thought.
“Put the sucker in that hot little mouth of yours. Show me what you’d do if it were me.”
Okay, he did mean what she thought. But he couldn’t be serious. Despite the cabbie being mostly preoccupied with his caller and the traffic, he still glanced in the rearview mirror every so often. He might not be able to see her hard nipples or Dylan’s hand doing wicked things between her legs, but everything above her shoulders was perfectly visible. The thought of following Dylan’s instructions while making eye contact with their driver was an awkward one.
On the other hand, he’d worked her damn near into a frenzy. His fingers rubbed circles over her clit, the friction of her clothing heightening the sensation. Tension coiled low in her belly, building to an orgasm she desperately wanted, yet couldn’t imagine having in the back of a Las Vegas cab with their driver as a witness.
Dylan must have read her trepidation on her face and knew the line of her thinking. With how well he knew her, it would be impossible to hide things from him. Whether a benefit or curse, she couldn’t be sure.
With his head next to hers, he spoke low enough that she could hear him clearly but would be nothing more than deep-sounding murmurs to their driver. “Close your eyes for me, Aly.” She did and was glad for it. She’d rather forget where she was at the moment. “Good girl. Now, block out the world around us. Focus on what I’m doing to you. Focus on my voice and the things I say to you. If you can do that for me, I’ll make you come hard like I know you want to.”
“I-I don’t want to…” That wasn’t necessarily true. Physically, she was ready to beg for it. Mentally, she didn’t want to want it right then and there. But she was fast learning that where Dylan and sex were involved, her body overruled her mind. Every. Damn. Time.
“Yes, you do. You’re so wet I can feel it through your jeans.” He stroked his fingers hard up her center, proving his point. Her hips bucked when he grazed her distended clit. Oh, God! “Suck on that lollipop, Aly. Torture me with images of your mouth on my cock.”
Without another moment’s hesitation, she did as he requested. Though the swirling sucker wasn’t anywhere near his girth, the length seemed pretty close since she couldn’t get the last inch in. Once it was in as far as she could take it, Alyssa wrapped her lips around it and sucked as she dragged it from her mouth.
Dylan groaned and pulled her right leg over his left to anchor it and keep her open. As he continued to massage her sex and rub her clit, she lost herself in the moment. In the growing ball of fire in her gut, its flames licking at her extremities, threatening to burn her alive.
She thrust the sucker in her mouth over and over again. Sometimes hollowing her cheeks with the suction, sometimes gliding it back and forth on her flattened tongue or licking circles around the tip. Imagining it was Dylan’s thick cock made her even hotter. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck and almost made it into the valley of her cleavage before Dylan caught it with his tongue and retraced its path, ending at her ear.
“I’ve never seen anything so sexy as you on the edge, baby. It’s almost more than I can bear to watch you without coming on myself like a damn teenager.”
Alyssa let her hand wielding the sucker drop to her thigh. She wanted to respond. To tell him he could make her wet with the smallest of actions, or just by changing the tone in his voice or the look in his eyes. But she couldn’t manage anything intelligible as he quickened his strokes. The steady rhythm acted as a bellows, feeding oxygen to the fire inside her to consume her once and for all.
“Arriving at Masquerade hotel and casino.”
Alyssa forced her heavy lids open just as the car turned into the semicircular drive that surrounded the immense reflecting pool. No! I’m so close! Dylan lifted her leg from his and gently returned it to its original position. A whimper eked from her throat unbidden.
“Shhh…” Resting his cheek at her temple, his promise was a mix of comfort and warning. Both warmed her like whiskey burning a path through her body. “It’s only a small break. Once I get you alone, there’ll be no stopping the pleasure I give you.”
Someone cleared their throat. The driver. “Maybe you want me to take a more scenic route?”
“No, thanks. Here you go,” Dylan replied and gave the man a few bills along with her half-sucked sucker. Alyssa laughed and scrambled out of the cab, followed by Dylan who grabbed her hand and led her into the hotel. She had to practically jog to keep up with him. Pulling her along, he wove in and out of passersby, a man on a mission with no time for petty distractions.
They boarded an elevator with a quaint family of four. The heat that had plagued her body moments before in the cab now flooded her chest and cheeks for an entirely different reason. The little girls stared up at her and Dylan with the normal, open curiosity of youth. But Alyssa felt like she wore a sign around her neck detailing her recent crime against polite society. To hell with wearing a scarlet letter. Hers was the whole damn alphabet. I just gave head to a lollipop while my best friend/lover (almost) made me come in public.
Well, not exactly public, but within two feet of a total stranger who had access to a rear-facing mirror. It didn’t matter how much he could or couldn’t see, or whether he’d been paying attention or not. The whole situation was nothing less than deplorable…right?
So, aside from the slight embarrassment of realizing how caught up in the act she’d been, why didn’t she feel a deep-seated sense of shame with a side of regret? Yet more unexpected behavior for her to process. At this rate, she’d need a monthlong retreat just to evaluate this one weekend.
As they continued to ride in the typical awkward silence of a shared elevator, Dylan placed a large hand on the back of her neck and started kneading. His strong, work-roughened fingers worked magic, chasing away her mounting tension before it locked up her entire body.
He leaned in close. “Stop overthinking things, Aly.”
Alyssa was beginning to resent his keen awareness of her. Did he always know her thoughts? She’d always thought her excellent poker face extended to everyday life. That people found her hard to read, which was how she preferred it. Her feelings were her own, and if she didn’t want the world to know what they were, then keeping them hidden was a talent worth having.
But Dylan continued to read her as if she advertised everything on a lighted marquee. Since she’d never had the need to hide anything from him until this weekend, he’d never had to call her out on anything. Now she wondered if her poker face wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, or if Dylan simply knew the answers to all her riddles.
And holy shit she was now overthinking him knowing when she was overthinking.
The elevator dinged its arrival at the first stop and the family shuffled off. The doors hadn’t even closed all the way before Dylan pinned her in the corner with his body and bent his head to feast on her neck.
“Dylan,” she said weakly, eyeing the small dark globe in the far corner of the ceiling. “The security cameras.”
