Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Hmmmm,” she says as she looks up briefly, then her eyes go from playful to serious when they return. “Did you know that North Carolina is the only state where all four major gemstones—and that would be emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds—have been discovered?”
“I absolutely did not know that,” I say seriously, then I turn it playful again, because honestly, that’s where the most fun is. “Would you like to get out of here and go get a drink together?”
Stephanie blinks once in surprise, and then she appraises me. Her eyes are fucking gorgeous, a light blue that looks like that sheen of blue you see deep inside of Arctic icebergs, and yet it doesn’t make her look icy. In fact, her eyes actually have a sizzling quality to them or maybe it’s just the hair the color of molten lava spilling all around that gives a warm effect.
“A drink?” she asks, not really to clarify, but more of a contemplation for herself to see if it’s something that would interest her.
“Sure,” I say with an easygoing shrug. “There’s a lot of great bars downtown.”
“Okay,” she says gamely. “A drink. Meaning one. I have to be at work super early tomorrow to make sure all of this party stuff is gone and this exhibit is show quality for when the doors open.”
“I have an early practice,” I tell her nonchalantly. “So I have to be in top shape tomorrow as well.”
“Then let me make some goodbyes and get my purse. Give me fifteen minutes.”
I watch her ass the entire time she walks away, knowing that even though she said one drink, this night isn’t going to be over early. Like I said…near statistical impossibility for me not to get laid.
When she’s out of sight, I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Max, Jules, and Van in case I don’t see them before Stephanie gets back.
—
The elevator doors close and then I’m on her. Stephanie said she lives on the fourth floor, but I can’t wait that long. She’s got me so thoroughly inflamed I consider hitting the STOP button.
My mouth crashes down on hers and she groans lustily.
You see, one drink turned into two. Then three. Then four. And then…well, we hit another bar.
Steph in her evening gown and me in my tux.
Having fun and getting hammered.
Small talk turning to flirting.
Innuendo turning into action.
She made the first move and I tried not to smirk when she stepped up to me and murmured, “Want go to my place? It’s just a few blocks from here.”
My dick answered for me. Fuck yeah, I wanted to go to her apartment.
I plunge my hand into her long curls and fist her hair near the nape of her neck. I give it a short tug, then her head tilts back and her throat is exposed to me. I run my lips down her velvety skin to her collarbone as I press her body back into the wall of the elevator. My pelvis grinds into hers and she moans again as she feels exactly how badly I want her.
Lifting my head, I look at her eyes hazy with alcohol and lust. “How drunk are you?”
She grins at me. “Drunk enough that I don’t have a single inhibition left, and I hope to God you’ve got a condom on you, because I’m pretty sure we’re not going to make it past my front door, but sober enough that I know this is just a hookup.”
I blink at her in surprise, my dick turning harder. I’ve never had a woman tell me she knows it’s just a hookup. Most see a professional athlete as a prize catch and are calculating the next day. Many see someone like me and are already envisioning marriage.
But not Steph, which is what she said all her friends call her. She’s a confident woman, bold and ambitious. She’s also a twenty-first-century woman, and I can tell she’s in touch with her sexuality. This is going to be fucking awesome, not having any feelings to worry about bruising.
The elevator chimes and comes to a stop. As soon as the doors open, Steph takes my hand and pulls me out. She practically jogs down three doors in her sexy high heels, and then she’s releasing me to fumble in her purse for keys.
“This your place?” I ask as I step up to her, taking her hips in my hands and pressing into her backside.
She hums her approval and grinds back against me. “Yup.”
With keys in hand, Steph efficiently opens the door, telling me she’s definitely not stinking drunk. She’s also a fantastic kisser, which is another telltale sign, because drunks kiss all sloppy and wet. That kiss in the elevator was focused, passionate, and hot as fucking hell.
When she pushes her door open, I start moving her gently inside. She laughs, and as soon as I close the door, she spins around and throws herself at me. I catch her easily, and because there is no seducing necessary, I drag her gown up until it’s around her hips as her hands pull at my tuxedo jacket to rip it off. When the coat hits the floor, I pick her up and turn her toward the apartment door, walking her right into it until her back thuds against the wood. Her long legs wrap tight around me and her core comes to rest on my erection. She undulates her hips and I can feel the heat of her through her panties and my pants.