SHE WAS PURPOSELY TRYING to drive me insane. She ran in front of my SUV to get to the driver’s side where traffic raced by—without even looking.
As she approached me, I figured I would get an apology or a thank you, but she just kept skipping right on by.
I grunted. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
Her blonde hair swished with each step. The scrap of clothing she, I am sure, would claim was a dress swayed along with her. The fabric floated around her legs but somehow clung to all the right places.
She looked like my heaven’s devil tonight—so pretty I was willing to sin for her. It had probably been a mistake to meet them out, but I couldn’t get our phone conversation out of my head. I wanted to know exactly what a cordial business relationship entailed. So, when my brother told me he was going to bother Brey on her girls’ night out, I found myself tagging along.
I got the warning on the way there. “Don’t keep fucking with her, Jett. That’s Brey’s girl.”
I grunted because it wasn’t his business that I was fucking with her in the first place. Or just plain fucking her. Which I found I wanted to do again.
I couldn’t understand the effect she had on me. It wasn’t like me to go to a damn club to find her looking like a dessert I couldn’t resist. It wasn’t like me to want to drag her out so no man could look at her. And it definitely wasn’t like me to follow her out and watch her flirt with every damn man in the club either.
“Did you see the oncoming traffic when you went to talk to my driver, Vick?”
She scoffed as she opened the lobby door. She walked through and didn’t hold the door open for me. I slammed my hand into it and followed her in anyway.
“All right. Not worried about that, I guess. Did you know my driver could have run you over when you practically dove in front of the vehicle?” I said to her back.
She mumbled, “Oh my God.”
We made our way to a side staircase. I watched her behind as she climbed them in her stilettos and I’m not proud to say my dick stood straight to attention. Those legs were sculpted to be licked and wrapped around a man. This man.
“I’m surprised my driver didn’t follow you home too with this fucking outfit.”
She spun around on the top step. “What’s your point, Jett?”
I shrugged and looked her up and down. “You have to have some sort of survival instinct, woman.”
“I survive by not worrying about dumb shit.”
She needed to understand there was a risk to being in Chicago, an enormous city where women were most definitely preyed upon. She whipped around before she entered her hallway. “Do you know that two guys followed you out of that club?”
Her laugh carried through the space. ‘So what? I was probably talking with them before I left. And, let’s not forget, you followed me out of the club, too, didn’t you, Jett?’
‘I’m not just some guy.’
‘Aren’t you though?’ Her tone changed; she enunciated every word.
We made it to her front door, but she didn’t move to open it.
‘You going to invite me in?’
‘Depends on how you want to act.’
‘Open your door, Victory.’
She rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip. “Jett, I don’t answer to you.”
“You answer to anyone?”
Her eyes glazed over, like she got lost in her own head. Then she looked down to grab her keys and, I assume, to break eye contact with me. “Everyone answers to someone or something.”
I leaned toward her, hoping she would continue her train of thought. I wanted to know why she had that melancholy tone all of a sudden, why her hands shook when she put the key in the lock, why her eyes didn’t meet mine for a couple more seconds.
She turned to me, her smile was back in place, but it didn’t reach her eyes the way it normally did.
“Say you’ll be fun if you come in.”
“Don’t play games, woman.” I stepped toward the entrance.
She pulled the door close to her, blocking the way. “Say you’ll be fun.”
She enjoyed grating on my nerves. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as I sighed and felt my jaw tick. “I’ll be as fun as you want me to be.”
“Oh, I want all the fun.” She swung the door open wide and stepped back.
I walked in and wrapped my arm around her waist. “You better be worth the trouble.”
She started to respond, but I didn’t want to bicker. I dove into her mouth and kissed her hard, bit her bottom lip, slid a hand up her neck to hold her jaw as I ravaged that sweet taste out of her.
She moaned and encircled her arms around my neck before jumping up to wrap her legs around me too. I kicked the door closed and shoved her up against it.
She gasped when her back hit the wood. “A little rough?” she said in my ear.
“Next time you go out to a club in a dress like that, expect rough, Vick.”
She moaned and rolled her hips. My dick responded a little too fast for my liking. I swept my hand up her skirt and found she was wearing next to nothing under it. “How wet are you for me already?”
“Jett, don’t play games.”
“Games are what make things fun, aren’t they?” I dipped my hand in her underwear, and she hissed. “Tell me, how wet?”
Her honey-colored eyes simmered with heat. I wanted them on fire when I took her this time. I slipped a finger in her and felt her tighten around me.
“Damn, woman,” I sighed.
“Don’t stop.”
“A fucking nuclear bomb couldn’t get me to stop.” That glazed look in her eye, her body tightening everywhere, the sheen of sweat that made her body glisten—it all made me want to get her off as many times as she liked. When that woman orgasmed and writhed under me, I liked it too much.
It was why I had gone to the club tonight, left work at home, decided to play rather than focus on my responsibilities.
She panted as I sucked on her neck, and I slid another finger into her. She bucked a little and moaned.
I moved my mouth up to her ear, “How wet, Victory?”
She hummed and whispered, “So wet.”
“That’s right, baby.” I worked her faster, giving her exactly what she wanted. She clawed at my back, looked toward the ceiling, and then she screamed. She rode my hand as she milked out every last bit of the pleasure I gave her.
She practically melted against me. Her legs slid down my back as she tried to right herself and stand up.
I didn’t let her go all the way to the floor though. I held her little body in my arms and mumbled, “Where’s your room?”
She was about to answer and then her phone went off. A twangy country voice belted out something about acting like a lady.
Vick shoved away from me. “Oh my God,” she mumbled as she searched for the phone.
She scrambled to silence it.
“Do you need to answer that?” I asked.
“No!” she yelped.
“Kinda late for a phone call.”
She wrapped her arms back around my neck. “It wasn’t important.”
Her lips pursed and her jaw tightened. Her body coiled with so much tension, I could feel it ready to snap. I stepped back to assess, to figure out if we should continue what we were doing.
“What happened to a nuclear bomb not stopping you?” she taunted, determination in her eyes.
I told myself I went to her because she was a willing body and damn good lay. I told myself I didn’t care about being the one to unwind that tension. I told myself I didn’t care about wanting to make that look in her eyes disappear.
I told myself I didn’t care.
Still, I stayed by her side until I saw her happiness return.
