Cocky Client
“Okay, Rachel,” he said my name as if he knew I was lying. “You never answered my question.”
“Which one?”
“The one about what type of guy you want.”
“You don’t need to know. I’ll know him when I see him.”
“Tell me.” He insisted, moving a bit closer to me as the waitress set down a fresh bottle.
I froze, completely unsure of what to say.
“Is your ideal type a guy who’ll take you home and fuck you until you can’t take every inch of his cock anymore?” he whispered into my ear. “The type who will devour your pussy until you come against his mouth?”
I felt my cheeks heating. “You did not just ask me that...”
“I did,” he said. “You started our meeting by skipping the ‘Hello’ so I think we can skip right past the bullshit question and answer phase.” His eyes were still on mine. “Tell me what you want.”
Everything you just said...
“A gentleman,” I said, lying to both him and myself. “Someone who will make love to me and slowly take off my usual lingerie while he kisses every inch of my skin. Someone who will say sweet things before and while he’s having sex with me.”
“If you were after that,” he said, trailing his fingers against my lips. “You would’ve actually worn lingerie—or something, under your dress.” He glanced down at the top of my dress, at my nipples as they hardened through the fabric. “So, clearly that’s not what you’re after tonight. And even if it was, you would’ve gotten up the second I started talking to you.”
“You’re saying you’re not a gentleman?”
“I’m saying I’m not going to bullshit you.” He poured me a glass of wine. “And I’d appreciate it if you did the same.”
I stared at him as he stared back at me, as everything in my body begged me to end my long drought of sexless nights and sleep with him.
He handed me the wine and he watched me as I took my time sipping it, as I let four songs play before I finally made up my mind.
“I have some conditions before I can ask you to leave with me,” I said.
“I’m listening.”
“One, you can’t stay the night.”
“I never do.”
“Two, you can’t have my phone number.”
“I don’t recall asking for it.”
“Three, you’ll have to let me lean against you when we leave.”
He looked confused and I picked up my shoes.
“I’m not going to be able to get all the way home in these heels without leaning against someone.”
“Understandable,” he said, smiling. “This is when you’re supposed to tell me that you want me to leave with you.”
“It was implied.” I blushed.
He smiled and pulled out his phone. “How close is your place?”
“Close enough for us to walk. It’s in SoHo.”
“I think you need to re-learn the definition of pretty close.” He looked at me like I was insane. “SoHo is a half-hour walk away, at best.”
“No, it’s only twenty minutes.” I wasn’t sure why his brand of arrogance was such a turn-on. “Are you saying you won’t walk home with me?”
“Absolutely.” He held his phone up to his ear. “Miller, would you come to Club H2O and pick up me and—” He paused, smiling. “my new friend, Rachel. I need you to take us to her place in SoHo.”
He spoke a few more words into his phone before ending the call and looking at me. “He’ll be here in two minutes.” He leaned over me and grabbed my heels.
I held out my hand so he could give them to me, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept them and slid his hands underneath my thighs and lifted me up, tossing me over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I asked, beyond wet and turned on for some reason.
“Exactly what you asked.” He carried me out of the VIP section, past the dance floor, and out of the club.
Outside, he carried me to a waiting black town car and placed me onto the backseat. He sat next to me and shut the door behind him.
“What’s your exact address, Miss Rachel?” The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, and it took me a few seconds to realize that by saying “Rachel” he was referring to me.
“2000 Lafayette,” I said.
“Got it.” He rolled up the partition and pulled into the traffic.
I felt Ryan staring at me and looked over at him. “I take it that you do this type of thing often?”
“Not as often as you,” he said. “At least, not recently.”
“Well, maybe when you reach my level of expertise, you’ll realize why it’s rude to just pick up someone and carry them out of the club without warning.”
“I personally think you enjoyed that.”
“No.” I smiled. “I definitely didn’t.”
Before I could say anything else, his dominating mouth was on mine and he was pushing me down against the leather seat.
I shut my eyes as he kissed me harder than I’d ever been kissed before, as he slid his hands against my bare thighs.
It had been so long since I’d been touched, that I was reveling in every brush of his skin against mine. And with each commanding roll of his tongue against my lips, I wondered why a kiss never felt this intense with any of the boyfriends I’d had in the past. Why nothing they did even halfway compared to what this man was doing to me right now.
Palming my breasts through my dress, he groaned as I gently bit his bottom lip and playfully tugged at his belt.
The car continued to cruise against the bumpy streets of Manhattan and every now and then I felt his hardened cock through his pants, rubbing against my thighs. My eyes fluttered open each time because I just knew his cock couldn’t be that huge.
This has to be my imagination messing with me....
When I noticed that the car had finally come to a stop, his lips were still attached to mine, and my hands were in his hair. I was murmuring as he continued to tease my thighs with his touches, and I was on the verge of insisting that we finish this on the backseat.
It wasn’t until a series of car honks that he eventually tore away from me and helped me to sit up. Adjusting my dress, he stepped out and held the door for me, once again carrying my shoes.
I walked the few steps to the front door of my brownstone, fumbling for the keys. I managed to open the door in record time, and the second I stepped inside the apartment he pushed me against the wall and we picked up right where we left off seconds ago.
He lifted my leg around his waist and continued controlling my mouth with his, not missing a single beat.
“Where do you want me to fuck you?” he whispered against my mouth.
“My bedroom.”
He unzipped the side of my dress and it fell to the floor in a pool of red silk. He kissed his way down to my neck, to my chest—sucking one of my nipples between his lips.
Moaning, I attempted to tell him where my bedroom was, but he returned to my mouth, rendering me completely useless with his kisses all over again.
He slid his hand between my thighs and pressed his thumb against my swollen clit, rubbing it in slow torturous circles.
“Ah...” I cried out. “Ah...Wait.”
“For what?”
I bit my shoulder to prevent myself from crying out even louder, and he kept his rhythm, using his hips to pin me against the wall. To prevent me from moving away.
My breathing slowed and my pussy began to throb against his hand as he slid two thick fingers deep inside of me.
Just as I was getting close to the edge, he moved his hand and whispered into my ear, “Are you sure you’ve done this before?”
I nodded, incapable of doing much else.
“Hmmm.” He pulled me over to the couch. “I think I need to do something before we go to your bedroom.”
“Something?” I asked as he pushed me back onto the cushions. “Something like what?”
“Like fuck your pussy with my tongue until you come in my mouth.” He spread my legs and got down on his knees. “That is what you said you wanted, correct?”