Home > Nights with Him (Seductive Nights #4)(7)

Nights with Him (Seductive Nights #4)(7)
Author: Lauren Blakely

She shot him a stare, her eyes hooking into his. Something dark and naughty passed over her gaze.

“I would fantasize about you finishing what you just started.”

His breath caught in his chest, and his heart stopped for a moment. The air around them was heavy, expectant, and suddenly it felt as if all the sound in the room had both stopped and been sharpened. Everything collided into this—the heavy pulsing sound of the music, the clink of glasses, the splash of liquor being poured, and then this—her breath, her chest rising and falling, and the heated look in her eyes that spelled unabashed lust.

He was going to fuck her good tonight.





Stop, Don’t Stop



Her reflection in the brass doors of the elevator would give her away. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair was slipping from its clip, and the collar of her blouse already needed readjusting. It was a look she hadn’t worn in years, but it was one she found she liked on herself. The look of a woman about to have hot, dirty sex with a man she barely knew. Michelle Milo was getting some action tonight, and it wasn’t the battery-operated kind.

A couple walked behind her. A man with slick black hair had his arm draped around a young blonde. They were wrapped up in each other, but seemed to check out Michelle before they turned the corner.

She stood alone outside the elevators, waiting for Jack to return from the front desk where he was getting a room, and she practically wanted to pump her first, maybe even high-five her own reflection.

But that would be premature, right? What if he was bad in bed? What if he had a small peter? Man, what a drag when that happened. You get all hot and bothered and raring to go, and everything is clicking on all cylinders from the conversation to the connection to the magical thing known as chemistry, then bam. Tiny revealed. She crossed her fingers and sent a silent prayer to the universe—or maybe just to the Patron Saint of Endowment, hoping that such a saint existed and if she didn’t, she damn well should, because she’d have offerings of riches from women the world over—that Jack had the kind of package that would make her mouth water.

Then she chuckled to herself, almost shocked at the thoughts racing through her head. What happened to serious, focused, honest-to-a-fault Michelle who worked as a therapist and prided herself on being direct, upfront, and open? Of course, she wasn’t always upfront. She’d never told her friend Clay how she felt about him all those years. Not that it would have made a difference. He didn’t feel the same way, and who fucking cared anymore? What a welcome bit of luck that at least, for this moment in time, her mind was free of that unrequited love that had weighed her down like a heavy rusted anchor on the sea floor.

Because right now, she was living in the moment, and judging a man for the size of his cock. Or potential size, really. Hell, it felt wickedly good to let this side of her steer the ship. Far too often she was all-work-and-no-play Michelle. But she was her after-hours self now, and she hoped this man could match the ones in her fantasy. Or at the very least, the size of the phalluses in her nightstand drawer.

Jack—or Just Jack as she now thought of him—walked towards her, and he was the only one on her mind as she took him in, his tie loosened, his white shirt rumpled, his pants . . .

Her eyes had strayed there and she snapped them up quickly.

He brandished a key, flashing it at her with a knowing wink, then whispered in her ear, “Were you just checking me out?”

A flush splashed across her cheeks in a flurry. She nodded. “Caught red-handed.”

“I like that you were looking.”


“Yes,” he said, and seconds later the elevator doors opened with a swish, then closed with a swoosh. Faint music played inside, a low beat, sexy and moody. The lighting was dim and silver walls flashed their faces back at them in a midnight-blue glow. Michelle was sure this hotel was rarely used for business.

“Are you sure you were here for a business deal?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because this is a sex hotel. I think that’s the only reason people come here.”

“Then isn’t it good that we met here?” he asked, but before she could answer, he spun her around, so she faced the wall of the elevator as the lift chugged upstairs. He crowded her in, and she gripped the bar as he pressed his body against her, his firm chest flush with her spine, and his erection against her lower back. The hard, full, thick length of it.

She sighed happily, and grinned at him in the reflection, then pushed back against him, letting him know she liked what she felt.

“I’m glad you approve,” he said, in her ear, his voice low, raspy, and thoroughly intoxicating.

“Seems I do so far,” she said, as lust washed through her.

As the elevator soared, he tugged her in closer, and the heat in her core shot up. He traveled from her ear to the back of her neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses that made her belly clench and her thighs tighten. His hands roamed down her sides to her waist, her hips, her thighs, as he ground against her backside, giving her a hint of what was in store. “What do you want me to do to you when we get in that room?” he said, and then she gasped when she felt his hand on the back of her knee, brushing his fingertips against her bare flesh.

“What are my choices?”

“Here are some options. Lick you, finger you, or fuck you?”

Her eyes floated closed as a wave of sparks shot through her body like a flare gun. She licked her lips. “I’m hungry. Can I have the one, two and three, please?”

“As you wish.” He moved his hand up her thigh, and she gripped the armrest harder because her legs felt wobbly from his touch. Then his palm was on her rear, and he teased at the lace of her panties with his fingers, trailing them along the edge, one finger hooking into the band. “You do have a fantastic fucking ass. Both cheeks are gorgeous,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said softly, loving his compliments.

The lift slowed as they neared the twenty-first floor.

“Almost there,” he mused as he brushed his fingers along the edge of her ass. Instinctively, she shifted her stance, opening wider, giving him access even if they were only in this elevator for ten more seconds. She wanted to be touched so badly it felt like a madness. Like she’d go insane if he teased her more with those fingers that seemed to know the path around her body. He dipped his thumb under her panties, then edged closer to where she was molten for him.

“And you are so fucking wet already,” he growled, lightly brushing his fingers over the damp scrap of fabric. Her back bowed, her body crying out for his touch. “Is this all from when I kissed you at the bar?”

“No. It’s from you trying to fuck me in an elevator,” she said, firing back. She wasn’t some blushing virgin, or some innocent wide-eyed girl, who’d never seen the world nor heard a foul word from a man. She might have been terribly unlucky in love, but she knew plenty about sex, and she wasn’t going to play the part of a sweet, shy thing. But he didn’t seem to want her to, because he slipped his hand between her legs, sliding a finger through her slick flesh.

“Good, because I want to fuck you in the elevator. In the hallway. On the bed. In the shower. I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you,” he said as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. They spilled out and the hall was empty. Praise the Lord of One-Night Stands, because he pushed her up against the wall in seconds, grabbing her wrists and holding them at her sides, and kissing her so hard that she was sure she might melt into a puddle of simmering lust and heat. She was wanted. Desperately wanted. By someone she craved. She had no notion when she walked into The Pierson that she’d be doing anything but walking out an hour later when her talk was done. But her plan for the evening had been upended, turned and twisted inside out into something entirely unexpected. And something she didn’t think she could stand going without. Her whole body pulsed for him, her blood thrumming through her veins to the rhythm of want, a pounding in her ears that blotted out everything but the feelings that charged through her.

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