We’re still dancing in the middle of a crowd, but I’m locked on the heat mingling between our bodies and a sudden weightless flutter in my chest. I suck her salty skin gently between my lips, and she tilts her head a little, which feels like encouragement.
She curls her fingers around mine at her waist as I press another soft kiss to her neck, sucking just a little.
“Your beard tickles,” she says in a breathy tone.
“You like it?”
Her eyes flutter closed, so I keep kissing, savoring her apple scent mixed with the salt from her skin while she grinds her ass against my dick.
The delightful craving for more with this girl is hijacking all rational thought. If she doesn’t turn this off, I cannot be held responsible for where my mouth ends up.
“I think I do,” she finally replies.
I suck on her earlobe and the tiniest groan rolls past her lips.
“We can get out of here,” I say before I lose my nerve.
She shakes her head. “Good girls don’t go home with random guys.”
“Good girls go after what they want.”
To my delight, she hums a laugh. “Maybe. But I’m not leaving this bar.”
“You need me to get creative?” I suck on her pulse point. A little harder this time.
A tremor rattles through her frame.
I had a feeling she’d like that, and being right sends a surge of blood straight to my dick.
“CJ,” she breathes.
I slip my hand in hers and gently tug her toward the dark hallway leading past the right side of the stage. My grip on her hand isn’t tight, but she holds on. At any point, she could pull away or tell me to stop. She doesn’t.
Earlier, she basically told me to back off, so what changed?
The hallway is dimly lit in soft violet. We pass a couple making out and a small group of people talking and drinking, their bits of conversation and laughter popping in my ears as we pass. I keep going because group bathrooms are a gross place to make out. At the backis another hallway that leads to an emergency exit. It’s pretty dark back here and as private as we’re going to get. I spin her back to the wall and gaze down at her.
She caresses up my chest and over my shoulders, and the quiet ebbing around us feels charged, yet there’s a closeness between us that’s impossible to ignore. Her fingers weave into the curls at the nape of my neck.
I brush my knuckles against her cheek, and her eyes flutter closed as she tugs me closer. I take in her long dark lashes and the rise and fall of her quickening breaths for one stolen moment before I lower my lips to hers.
There’s a hint of lime as our mouths meet, like the rush I used to get downing my first drink of the night, but it’s better because this kiss isn’t a bad decision. I risk a tiny flick of my tongue. She tightens her grip in my hair and arches her hips toward me. I brace off the wall so I can at least try to maintain some space between us. She slips one arm around my waist, her fingers tucking beneath the hem of my T-shirt at my lower back. Her touch pours gasoline on the fire crackling to life inside me, and it’s me that groans this time.
I sweep my tongue past her lips, and hers darts out, playful and quick. Chasing it consumes me for several delicious moments. She kisses me back and tugs me closer. I slip my left thigh between hers so she can seek out the friction she’s craving. Even through the layers of fabric separating us, she’s warm against me. A powerful rush of pleasure rolls down my spine. I slide a hand slowly over her ass, splaying my fingers so my middle one curves down the center seam. A whimper works up her throat.
Fuck. Does she realize where I’m touching her, or is she too turned on to notice?
What I wouldn’t give to do this properly, with her spread out on a big, soft bed and an entire night to explore.
“Don’t be shy, baby. Take what you need,” I say, kissing along her jaw.
Her breaths quicken and she rocks harder against my thigh.
I take her hand from my waist and pin it to the wall above her head because if she keeps sliding her hand any farther down my pants, it’s going to get messy.
Though I think I mightfucking love itmessy. Or at least, I love her version of it.
I memorize how utterly perfect the rose tattoo on the back of my hand looks pinning hers to the brickwork.