I still don’t dare take a drink. I don’t know if I would ever dare around her. She is so devious and cunning, and so fucking inventive. You never know what to expect. No wonder she influences people.

After the intensity on the dance floor, we both need air. I take her for a stroll on the roof terraces. Music from the party follows us out. We find a dark spot under the arches of a pergola with hanging vines. In the scents of cinnamon and herbs, we dance close, behind a low hedge, about chest high. The low glass wall with a nighttime view of the desert and a hundred and seventy foot drop is behind us.

We’re almost alone in this part of the garden. The few others out here laugh and chatter on the far side of the terrace, watching the Strip with their backs to us. We wouldn’t be visible to anyone, even if they did turn and look.

Under the hanging pergola, we’re practically in complete darkness. And the hedge in front of us reaches up to chest height.

I can’t keep my hands off her. Stroking, holding. Squeezing. Pulling. I’m behind her, but only because I think there’s less chance we’ll both lose it and get totally carried away.

Her back presses against me. The warm, soft crevice of her ass hugs the bulge of my hardened cock.

The scents of her flood into my head. They make me want to taste her. Press my lips onto her. Explore her with my tongue. Find all of her flavors. I want to rip her clothes off. Haul the front of that dress down.

More than anything, I want to expose her and devour her. I want my mouth on her. I need to taste her and feel her with my tongue as she trembles and crests.

She reaches back and flattens her hand on the bulge of my cock. Then she closes her fingers around me. Pulls. Up and down.

Her finger and thumb pull on the zipper. I should stop her. But I can’t. The warm breeze in my pants when my fly is open makes me desperate. My cock aches and strains.

She reaches inside.

We’re not going to do it.

Not out here.

She can’t mean that.

Pulling up the back of her dress, she guides me in between the tops of her thighs. Up against her panties.

She reaches up to pull my head down. Her eyes flutter and her thighs flex on me.

Her voice is warm breath in my ear. “I know this is bad.”

“You could say that.”

“But I want to feel you.” She puts a soft kiss on my neck. “I want it so much.”

I let my breath out slow. “It will take all the strength I’ve got, not to rip your panties.”

“Oh.” she whispers a moan. Her head turns to lean her cheek against my shoulder. Her hips rock. Just a little. Holding me. Tight.

Up, inside her dress, I hold her hips as she rocks.

Feeling her soft lips through her panties on the top side of my cock, I murmur. “You are so fucking wet.”

The urge to plunge into her is so fucking hard.

I push closer to feel her ass crushed against my hips, and her thighs clench tight on my cock. Her breath is hard and deep as I grip her hips and hold her breast. I plant soft kisses on her neck and around her ear.

The wet heat of her pussy drips slick nectar on my cock. As I slip my hand down for some to taste, I can’t resist pulling my cock harder, tighter against her sodden panties.

She lets out a long, shuddering sigh.

I lower my voice to an urgent whisper. “Keep perfectly still.”

The figure in black is crouched in shadow near the end of the arches.

I move toward him, but he’s fast. And he’s big. And he has a huge knife.

He dives and evades me. He’s low to the ground. Aiming for Lily.

I hit him across the back and knock him down. I couldn’t swing to get much force in the blow, but I stamp on his wrist and he drops the knife.

He jumps up. I grab him from behind, but he wriggles and I’m holding an empty leather jacket. And his heavy fist slams in my face.

He shoves me back against the glass wall. The drop is behind me. He bends me back. He kicks my feet away and turns me. I’m out, over the long drop. I have only a grip of one hand on the low wall. He holds my waist.

I scissor my legs tight around his neck, and I push against the wall. With my thighs, I squeeze as hard as I can.

He turns and my feet drop to the floor. His head is between my legs. I punch his nose. Hard. Three fast hammers.

I haul him up to his feet. His face is slack and his eyes roll. I press him back against the glass wall.


Tags: Frankie Love Romance