Chapter 6
As I leave the sitting room, I look around the party to find Crystal. Unfortunately, I find George, instead.
“I haven’t seen her,” he says. He looks disappointed, and I make a mental note to make sure Crystal’s never left alone with him. It would be bad form to kill one of my vice presidents.
He wants to know how my conversation with Mrs. Scaravelli went, but I brush him off to go find Crystal. Truth is, I’m not sure how it went. I went over the numbers, talking about the profits involved and that we were happy to cut her in on it. She seemed distracted and, although she seemed to give me her full attention, I didn’t feel like she was listening to what I said.
And now I’m not listening to whatever George is babbling on about, searching the faces of the New York A-list for a pretty little waitress from Queens.
One of the catering staff sees me and dashes off to the kitchen, and a moment later Crystal appears. What’s she doing in there? But she’s smiling at me, looking more relaxed than she has all evening, and I decide I’m probably better off not quizzing her.
I grab her wrist and pull her back with a quick spank on that beautiful ass. “Are you ready to go?”
“Am I ever!” Once in the car, she kicks her shoes off and leans back in the seat, closing her eyes. It gives me a moment to just stare at her luscious form, stretched out next to me. Of course, from there I start to think about her stretched out underneath me, and the engine hasn’t even warmed up before I’m sporting another erection. I’m half amazed at myself — no one has done this to me since I was fifteen. I slide the car into gear and pull onto the highway.
“So, who’s Max?”
She laughs and opens her eyes. “Just a guy I’d met earlier.”
“Just a guy? How’d you meet him?”
“Are you jealous?” Her eyes gleam in the street lights. “Max is very charming, actually. Dark and handsome.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, a flash of something cold in my gut. She looks like she’s going to say more, but I don’t want hear it, don’t want to admit the surge of possessiveness rising in me. I put my hand on her thigh and stroke along the edge of her dress to distract her. It works, she gives a little gasp of surprise. Her eyes widen, and her lips part. My cock stiffens to rock hard just at the look on her face.
I stroke my fingers along her thigh and push her dress up a little higher. “Why don’t you open up a little bit. You seem tense. Maybe all those men flocking around you like bears to honey.” She looks at me then, but as I press her legs apart, she closes her eyes, her head tilted back. She opens her thighs with a tiny moan that makes me want to pull over on the spot.
I keep my eyes on the road as my fingers run up the insides of her thighs. Her legs part further, and I brush against the damp fabric of her underwear. She shivers at my touch as I stroke a finger back and forth as slowly as I can. I don’t push the fabric aside, although I’m dying to touch her.
I want to save this for a better moment, for example when I’m not desperately trying to keep half my attention on my driving. At the same time, I can’t find it in me to stop. I want to hear her cry out for me.
As I stroke the fabric, she tilts her hips towards my hand, begging for more. I press against her clit, easy to find under the damp cotton, and she bucks against my touch. I can’t resist looking at her, stretched out on my seat, her dress bunching around her waist. Her hands are in fists, her back arched, and I know she’s close to climax. I press the damp fabric against her most sensitive spot, and she moans loudly, lifting her hips to meet me.
“Please, don’t stop,” she whispers.
There’s no way I can, not now, and I run my fingers up and down, barely able to resist pressing the fabric aside. “Come for me, darling.” My voice is a deep growl, my body on fire for her. The wind wipes my words away as we race down the road. A truck goes past, and I know they can see straight in, her dress around her waist, my hand buried in her soaking wet pussy. “Come all over my car,” I tell her. My cock is so hard, I’m worried I’ll rip the tux pants.
“Oh my God, yes,” she screams. Her thighs clench around my hand, trapping me in place. And with that, she goes over the edge, bucking hard against my finger as she cries out. She whimpers, her eyes closed, as I stroke her gently again.
I almost miss her exit as she writhes in the seat in the last throes of her orgasm. I’m tempted to miss it on purpose, as it is going to mean removing my hand currently pressed in her hot and wet center. With what feels like superhuman willpower, I withdraw my fingers, ignoring her whimper, and take the turn-off. She lies collapsed on the seat, a small smile on her face.
As I pull up to her apartment, I find myself wondering if she’ll invite me in, or if I should offer to take her somewhere else. Somewhere we can finish what we started.
She stretches and looks around. “Oh, we’re here.” She looks down at herself, a blush spreading across her face. Then she opens the car door and steps out, barefoot. “I guess you’ll want your dress back. I’ll just run up and change, won’t be a minute.”
It’s not quite as direct an invitation as I was hoping for. “I’m happy to come up.” I get out of the car and to her side, pulling her to me, crushing her breasts against my chest. Her lips are parted, and I bend down to kiss her.
I’ve been wanting this woman since I first saw her in that stupid Lido’s Loco uniform, if I’m honest, and the kiss is like a dam bursting. My hands drop to her ass, pulling her tightly against me so she can feel how badly I want her. I’m hard as diamonds, and she’s the only one. Her softness is the only thing that will give me relief. She moans and squirms against me, grinding against my hardness.
“I…” she’s trying to talk, but I don’t want to stop kissing her long enough to hear what she has to say. I trail my way down her face and to her cleavage, pulling the straps down over her shoulders. We need to get inside before I pull this dress off of her in the middle of the street. She clearly thinks the same thing, because she backs up, her cheeks bright spots of pink.
“We can’t…” Oddly, she looks down at her cleavage and then at me again. “I’ll just be right back and give you the dress.”
“Fuck the dress.” I don’t give a shit about the dress. But she’s already disengaging herself from me, heading towards the doorway. I know she wanted me, on the dance floor and again in the car. Now she seems to be playing hard to get after climaxing hard on my hand. I’m too much of a gentleman to point this out, though.
Maybe she just doesn’t want me in her apartment? “I could take you to a hotel. Have you ever been to the Ritz Carlton? We could get a suite—”
“I’ll bring it right down.” And with that, she’s off through the security door at speed, the loud click behind her sounding pretty final.
What am I going to do with a golden chain mail Versace, slightly worn? But she comes back down again with it hanging on a plastic hanger. She’s wearing a baggy old sweatshirt now and some yoga pants that look like they’ve seen better days. This is not an intro to something more.
I’m sure she wanted me, but I can take a hint. “Sure, no problem. Sorry if I overstepped.” I mean, I did have my hand under her dress the entire drive home. But you know, I haven’t pushed her too far. I’m sure I haven’t. I may have only met Crystal tonight, but I feel like I know her. And I don’t know if she’s embarrassed or something. But she’s not angry. Not frightened. She’s just… changed her mind. What’s worse is that seeing her all rumpled in old clothes like this has done nothing to abate my hard on.
I don’t want the goddamned dress. For a moment, I try to come up with a reason why she needs to wear it again. I know her size now; maybe I can buy her another one. Or maybe I should just walk away, seeing as she clearly doesn’t want me here.
“Keep it,” I tell her. “Call me,” I tell her. I’m not one to outstay my welcome.
“Yeah, maybe,” she says, not meeting my eye.
She’s not going to call.
I look for something to say, something to make it clear that she’s special, that I want to see her again. In the end, though, nothing comes to mind. I start up the engine and drive away. Despite my better judgment, I glance back, hoping to see her still standing there. She is just disappearing back into the building. She didn’t even wait for me to drive away.
Whatever. I don’t actually have time for this, anyway.