Page 33 of Good Girls Like it Dirty
Rebound romance.
Could she even deny it? He’d been honest from the start, and she’d agreed to it, receiving the money he so generously offered. Now… She rested her head against the metal door, closing her eyes and hoping to find her ground. Why did it matter now?
“She won’t last long,” Sophie said.
“Do they ever?”
They chuckled and left together.
Only when the door closed did Monique leave her stall, slamming the door behind her. She turned on the tap, running cold water on her hands and blinking back the tears burning in the corners of her eyes.
No. If she cried, that’d ruin her makeup, and Zaine would suspect something when he saw her with puffy red eyes. I can’t tell him about this. Just a little while ago, he’d been over the moon about nailing a lunch meeting with Lara. In a matter of time, Monique would be out of his life, but his career, the memory of his brother, would last forever.
She took a couple of deep breaths, sucking air then letting it out, working on relaxing. Right now, she had to forget about her pride and pretend she hadn’t heard anything. If she caused a rift between Zaine and Lara, she wouldn’t forgive herself.
She walked out of the restroom, determined to not let what she’d overheard ruin her evening. She’d sob after the affair ended, but until then, she’d enjoy every remaining part of it.
“Alone at last,” he said, closing the door behind them.
She removed her shoes and put them by the sofa. The suite was ginormous, with a nice living area and tall French doors that led to the small but quaint terrace overlooking the ocean. The full moon cast shadows over the carpet.
He shortened the gap between them with a few steps and pulled her into his arms. She tugged at his tie, creasing his suit, not caring for a second about anything other than keeping him close.
“Everyone was impressed tonight,” he whispered in her ear.
She wanted to shout she doubted that a whole lot based on what had happened in the bathroom, not that she cared as far as her life was concerned. She jerked back to look at him and saw pride flickering in his eyes, and decided to stay quiet. Man, he believed his words—and he cared about what people thought of her, obviously.
“The only thing I care about is how you feel about me,” she said.
“You impress me in every possible way,” he said, removing his jacket and tossing it on a chair behind them. “You’re one of the most genuine women I’ve ever met, and certainly the hottest.”
A jolt of arousal bolted through her. She dove back into his embrace, fumbling to open the buttons of his shirt. Mon Dieu. He lowered his lips to hers, and she opened her mouth to welcome his tongue. The contact brought a sizzling need down her body, arrowing all the way down to her clit, making it swell and throb.
She made quick work of removing his shirt and squeezed his shoulders, feeling them tighten under her touch. Oh, how she loved his amazingly strong, undeniable maleness, the hard ridges of his body, the way his taut muscles shifted as he moved. As a child, she’d visited museums, many of them during their highly discounted or free days. She’d seen statues of powerful men made immortal by world-renowned sculptors, and shit, none of them held a candle to Zaine Cavanaugh.
“I saw the lube in your makeup bag,” he said, an edge in his voice. “Do you want to continue our exploration?”
She chuckled. “I didn’t know you searched my bag.”
“Didn’t mean to. It was half open, and I couldn’t find the toothpaste this morning.”
She kissed his thick neck. “Suuuuure.”
He swatted her ass, and even through the fabric, the warmth of his hand seeped through her skin. Her nipples hardened instantly, as if they’d been pinched. A moan flew from her lips and she leaned into him for support.
“Bringing the lube was supposed to be a surprise and I won’t be talked into using it until I’m ready.”
“Fair enough,” he said, kneading her ass, driving her insane with desire. “I’ll look forward to it. Does the surprise include using this?” he asked, squeezing her ass cheek then pulling her close, his hard-on rubbing her belly.
She gasped, air dissipating from her lungs. She inhaled a shallow breath, the idea of his cock penetrating her ass turning her on, making her pussy hot and wet. “It might. If you’re up for it, of course,” she said, sliding her hand down to his chest, caressing the hair dusting it, then tugging on it until his groan sliced the air. “You need to earn ass fucking.”
“Wouldn’t do it otherwise.” He nipped on her earlobe, causing a million nerve endings to sizzle with an awareness that flowed from the top of her head all the way to her toes. She squirmed, rubbing herself on him, so eager for more. Eager for him.
When he withdrew, she moaned in protest, physical pain replacing the warmth and hotness he evoked. He grinned, probably knowing what he did to her, and she was too turned on to save face. She needed him to fuck her, to feel his big dick filling her until he could no longer breathe.
She reached for the back of her gown to undo the zipper, and he watched her, fire burning in his eyes. He had never looked so focused—the muscle in his jaw pulsed, his lips thinned into a closed smile. She could feel the tension radiating from him, like a wild beast who’d found its next meal.
And she wanted to be his meal. Now and forever.
