The sink digs into my side as he leans into me. I glance over his shoulder, check the door, realizing someone could walk in at any moment. I should care. But it’s hard to think about that, when Zayne is pressed against me. With his free hand, he traces my spine, down, down, pausing at the small of my back to flatten his palm against my skin, and then he slips his fingers down the back of my panties, the thin fabric giving way easily to his rough touch. He grabs my ass, squeezes hard, and I arch my hips into his, loving the feeling of his hard cock pressed against my belly, his hips digging into mine.
He pushes me backwards, into the sink, and the cool porcelain a sharp contrast to his hot skin.
My clit feels like it’s swollen, a fat weight between my legs that’s begging me to take this farther. To let him take me, fuck me right here over this sink.
But when I glance away from him, remember where we are, my heart sinks a little.
I want to fuck him—desperately. I want to feel his thick cock inside me, and let him take what he wants from me. I want him to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, just the way he promised, and then I want to fuck him again and again until both of us will be sore in the morning but neither of us will care.
But not here. Not like this. Hooking up in the bathroom of a dingy little corner pub…
Zayne leans away from me, and follows my gaze. He must read my mind, because a moment later, he stoops down to scoop his shirt and my dress off the floor, and passes me mine. “As much as I’m enjoying you, Clove, I have to admit I’m not really into restroom hookups.”
I accept my dress with a grateful half-smile. “You read my mind.”
His eyes fix on me, still taking in my body hungrily. “So what’s say we blow this joint?”
“Your place or mine?” I lift an eyebrow.
He grins. “They’re the same address, so that makes it easy.”
My cheeks flush. Of course. I should have figured he’d live in the building too. Damn, this is becoming a worse upon worse idea. And yet, I feel myself bend to pick up my bra, all the while shooting him a flirty grin. “Let’s decide on the walk, then.”
We make it as far as the front door of the pub before we fall into each other’s arms again. The second we step outside and cool night air hits us, it seems to go straight to our heads. He kisses me hard, backs me up against the wall of the building, and I lift one leg to wrap it around his waist as we kiss, burying my hands in his hair.
“I have to admit, this seems like an even worse hookup spot than the restroom,” I gasp when we finally part for air again, both of us breathing hard. His cock digs into my thigh now, and I fight the urge to inch my hips a few inches sideways and grind my clit against his hard length. I’m already wet enough, soaking straight through these thin panties.
“I can’t wait to tear this dress off you,” he murmurs into my neck, his voice low, almost a growl now. “You make me want to take you right here, right now.”
I shiver in anticipation, arching into him. “I want you to take me however you want me,” I whisper.
In response, he catches my hand, pulling me away from the wall and into a brisk walk. As we walk, he casts a grin down at me. “I can be patient… For now.”
Those words reverberate through me as we cross the blocks to our building. When I was walking here tonight, it felt close. Now, it feels like an eternity. An agonizing wait, when all I want to do is jump Zayne’s bones right here.
We run up against a red light, and he takes advantage of the moment to bury one hand in my hair, kissing me once more, hard and deep. His tongue slides between my lips, and I twine my tongue around his, soaking in his taste, his scent, his heat, the feel of his hot lips on mine, his sharp stubble against my cheek.
“Who’s my naughty girl?” he murmurs against my mouth, and I sink into him, letting him take control.
His hands grip my ass, lift me half off the curb as he crushes me against him, and I tilt my head, part my mouth to let him take what he wants from me.
“You like that?” He squeezes my ass again, harder, and I grin into his kiss, arching against him. “You like it rough, Clove?”
“Fuck yes.” I bite his lower lip for emphasis, and he growls, practically lifting me off the ground and grinding his hips against mine.
“Good. Because I don’t want to go easy on you.”
I lean back far enough to catch his eye, my own alight with desire. “Don’t you dare.”
His grin widens. “Be careful what you wish for, dirty girl.”
In response, I wriggle my ass, which grinds our hips together, his thick cock pinned between us, digging into my belly. He slaps my ass, not hard, but enough to make me startle and jump against him. He grins and leans in to catch my earlobe between his teeth and bite down, just hard enough to make me gasp.
“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you…”
Then, without warning, he pulls away, and it takes me a second to breathe in enough oxygen to remember where we are. What we’re doing. Because we’re still standing on a street corner in the middle of the city, and the light has just changed. I trail after him, across the road, head swimming, cheeks on fire. Normally I hate PDA, but with Zayne, I didn’t even remember we were still in public. When he touches me, everything else fades into the background. I could be anywhere, doing anything, and all I can see, all I can feel or hear or taste or think about, is him.
He’s dangerous, I think. But even worse?
I like it.
We finally reach the building lobby, and Paul buzzes us in. To judge by the way his eyebrows rise and his gaze darts between us, to call him “surprised” would be the understatement of the year.
But Paul is nothing if not the consummate professional. So after a moment of gaping, he simply bows his head. “Zayne. Ms. Walker.”
“Evening, Paul,” Zayne says with a wink as we saunter past him, arms wrapped around each other’s waists.
“Hello,” I manage, still embarrassed, still feeling my cheeks burn white-hot. This is what it will be like if things go sour with Zayne, I remind myself. I’ll have to walk past him every day, have awkward conversations like this one.
“Lovely night out,” Paul is saying as he digs under the counter. “Ms. Walker, you had a package…”
Zayne shoots me a sideways grin. “What was that about you not ordering too much on Amazon?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll pick it up tomorrow, thanks so much, Paul.”
“Of course.” His eyes trail us all the way to the elevator, and I wonder suddenly if there are security cameras in here. If he’s going to see that we push floor 11, where Zayne must live, instead of floor 5, where I live.
“You aren’t going to get in trouble for this, are you?” I ask, suddenly thinking about it. Is there some kind of rule against this? Dating the… customers, I guess?
Zayne only laughs and hits the door close button. “The only trouble we’re getting into tonight is one another,” he says, pinning me against the corner of the elevator with one arm on the glass behind me. I lean against the wall, looking up at him. I’m struck again by the way his sharp blue eyes pierce me, the way his body angles toward me to turn me on, light me up.
One way or another, tonight marks a turning point. Either this is a very, very bad decision—something the nervous rumble in my gut tells me it very well might be—or it’s a different kind of bad decision. The kind that will give me sleepless nights thinking about it for days to come.
Either way, it’s too late now. I’ve already jumped.
The elevator doors ding and slide open. We step out onto Zayne’s floor, the 11th floor, a floor I’ve never been to in all my years living in this building so far. He crosses to his door, unlocks it, and I take a deep breath and fall straight into the deep end.
4
The second the door shuts behind us, Zayne shifts into alpha mode.
“Take off your dress.”
Our eyes lock. I keep mine on him as I slowly reach for the hem of my
dress. Catch it and raise it over my shoulders. Normally I’d be shy about undressing for a guy the first time, but something about the white-hot heat in Zayne’s gaze doesn’t allow for it. He wants me—bad. So why feel shy about letting him take what he wants?
I drop the dress beside me, standing in my panties and bra before him.
He paces around me in a slow circle, eyes darting up and down my body as he sizes me up. “Now take off your bra.”
I catch his eye once more, hold it while I reach back to unclasp my bra. I let it slide down my arms, and my belly tightens at the way his gaze drops to my breasts, a hungry glint in his eye. He lifts one eyebrow, allows himself a small, private grin.
“Take off your panties now.”
I lift my chin and let my gaze drop down his body pointedly. “This seems a little one-sided,” I point out.
“Are you disobeying me, naughty girl?”
“What do you plan to do with me if I am?” I ask, my smile widening.