The pair of barstools we roosted on next to each other sat close enough my leg was pressed against his. His hand on my lower back was warm and rubbed lazy circles while we exchanged basic info. He was a grad student taking a vacation before starting a research project this summer at Clemson, only here for two more days. Perfect.
He stared at my mouth as I tipped my bottle up and swallowed the last of my beer, following the line of my exposed skin down my neck to the valley of my cleavage. I lowered the bottle, drawing out the motion. He made a noise in his throat, and his arm tightened around my back. Leaning over, he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just below my ear. My eyes drifted closed. God, it felt good to be touched again.
“You want to come back to my place for awhile? My room has a great view of the ocean.” His voice was huskier than before.
I nodded as I slipped off the stool, not even caring that his line was lame. We both knew what was going to happen. Jason the bartender caught my eye as I headed out the door, sending a text to Rue as I walked. I dipped my head to let him know I was okay, and he winked back in acknowledgement.
Jared was staying at the resort, and the ride to the hotel was relatively short. He put his hand on my leg as he drove us back and with one finger traced a meandering path up and down my thigh, flirting with the hem of my skirt.
When we got to the elevator, we stood in the back and kissed softly, experimentally, behind an elderly couple who were oblivious to our actions. His hand cupped the back of my head and tangled in my hair. I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned into him, his lips moving over mine, tasting me with the slow slide of his tongue. We didn’t even pause when the couple got off two floors below our stop.
After fumbling with the key card in the slot, Jared pulled me inside and pressed me to the back of the door, not going any farther into the room. He shoved both hands into my hair, tilted my head to the side and started to devour my mouth, his tongue probing everywhere at once. The urgency caught me off guard, and I dropped my purse at my feet, but I tried to go with it, running my hands down his chest and slipping them under his shirt to grab his sides.
“Oh, Christ, you’re so hot,” he murmured, licking down my neck while his busy hands reached for the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head. Apparently, we were in a hurry. His hands rushed up to capture my breasts, squeezing them together and pushing the tops up. He nuzzled into them, placing sloppy kisses as he went. It was like he was trying to touch every part he exposed. Neck, check. Cleavage, check. Pulling the lacy cups down, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, while pinching the other one to the point of pain. I winced and removed his hand, which he seemed to take as a sign, because that hand dropped to my thigh, before sliding back up to my panties. His fingers rubbed the lace he found there, his middle finger pressing into my folds. Okay, that felt good. Now we were getting somewhere.
I tipped my head back, pushing my chest farther into his face, and moved my hips in a slow circle. He pulled at my nipples with his lips, sucking them into hard points. With his other hand, he kneaded my ass. I tugged at his shirt, and he broke away from me long enough to rip it over his head and throw it into the dark room behind us.
Wrapping my arms around his chest, I scraped my nails down his back, and he shuddered against me. His insistent tongue pushed back into my mouth, stroking mine. When he pulled back a little, I fought the urge to wipe the extra moisture from my face. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom. Holding it between his teeth, he dropped his pants and boxers in one quick movement. I couldn’t get a good look at him before he pressed his hardness up against my panties and ground against me. My skirt was still around my waist.
After sheathing himself, he pulled my underwear to one side and bluntly pressed at my entrance. I guess foreplay was over. I was only kind of wet, and he grunted as he tried to work himself inside me, while I bit my lip at the uncomfortable pinching sensation. It had been awhile for me, but he didn’t feel very big, and he pushed himself in without too much difficulty.
Burying his face in my neck, he grabbed my hips and rocked into me, pushing me harder into the door. After a half a dozen thrusts, he stiffened, jerking inside of me.
What the fuck? Already?
Sighing with satisfaction, he kissed my shoulder and leaned against me, pinning me with his weight. His chest rose and fell against mine as he took slow deep breaths. After pressing his lips to my neck one last time, he slipped out of me and took a step back.
“Sadie, Christ, that was great. Thanks.” His hand reached out to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking me. “I’m gonna jump in the shower real quick. You good?”
Was I good? Um, no, dickwad, I was not good.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I lied, fixing my underwear and smoothing my skirt back down. “I think I’m just gonna go.”
He tipped his head and drew his eyebrows together. “You sure? We could go for round two in a little bit.”
“I, uh, have an early morning. Spa appointment.” I reached down for my shirt, and pulled it back over my head. I just needed to get out of there.
Details. Details were important. Rue had tried to teach me, but again, I failed to learn the lesson. Lame line, uncreative in the bedroom. Fumbling the room key, lack of finesse. Not making sure I finished, total douche.
He nodded his understanding and leaned down to kiss me. I turned at the last second, and he got the corner of my mouth. We hadn’t even made it past the damn doorway. Hadn’t even taken my clothes off. What. The. Hell.
Grabbing my purse from where it had landed by my feet, I mumbled something as I opened the door and fled, my face burning with annoyance and frustration. I stalked back to the elevator, which was mercifully already on my floor, and leaned against the stainless steel interior, feeling its coolness seep into my back and upper arms, raising goose bumps on my heated skin. I ground my teeth together as I waited impatiently for the elevator to lower.
Three floors down, the car stopped, and a man stepped on. Glancing up at him, I froze.
It was the surfer from earlier today.
I wanted to laugh, only it wasn’t funny. He looked wonderfully disheveled. His hair was mussed, his lips swollen and red, his shirt not quite straight. Dipping his head, he zipped up his jeans, the movement unhurried, then ran a hand through his messy brown hair. My cheeks flamed. It was obvious what he was coming from.
He glanced over at me, and recognition lit his face. One side of his mouth lifted in greeting as his eyes raked over me. “I take it your evening went as well as mine?”
“Best sex ever. You?” I smiled at him sweetly and said the words slowly, as if I was savoring them.
“It was better the first time.” He shrugged. “And you’re lying.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Am not.”
“Then why are you already sneaking out and not spooning?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. I didn’t really have a good answer to that. And truth be told, I loved to spoon.
He nudged my shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll have better luck next time.”
I snorted. Oh God, I snorted. What was wrong with me? And why was the elevator moving so damn slow? An eternity later, the elevator dinged, the door slid open, and I stepped out with as much dignity as I could muster, moving across the tiled lobby as fast as I could on my spiky heels. I called back over my shoulder to him, “Have a good night.”