She’s confident, not needing the touch to maintain her confidence. I press my palm to her lower back as I guide her from the bar, taking her lead as she moves toward the elevators. If she didn’t have a room here, I’d get one. Being a frequent patron means I get a great discount, but if she’s got a room, that’s great, too.
The elevator ride is silent. Neither of us needs small talk to ease any discomfort because neither of us is feeling any. We don’t feel the need to placate the other. We know what this is. We know what we’re doing, but it isn’t business-like either.
The sexual tension swirling around is so thick it’s damn near suffocating, and I know she’s not immune to it either as I watch her pulse flutter in her throat. She jolts, her body hitching the slightest little jerk when the elevator dings on her floor.
Her stride to her door has her regaining her confidence, her hips the perfect sway of seduction in tall heels, her calves strong and sexy. My fingers itch to grip her ass and guide her movements, but letting her take control has its own appeal as well.
“Night cap?” she offers as we step inside her room.
“Sure,” I say as I focus on her.
The room is pretty basic, so I don’t bother looking around. I’ve been in plenty of them before. There’s only one attraction inside these four walls that I’m focused on.
Ginger heads to the mini bar, pulling out a small bottle of Jameson, but I press my front to her back before she can twist the metal top off.
“Not really thirsty,” I whisper, my lips against the column of her neck.
“Me either,” she says, angling her head so I can have better access.
“Did you go to the bar tonight looking to get fucked?”
“Yes,” she pants as my hand drifts down her body, first skating over the swell of her breast, then traveling down her stomach before flirting with the hem of her dress.
“Does this red dress always work for you?”
“Always. Mmm.”
My fingers tease up her thigh as I move her dress higher up.
“You’re gonna be a lot of fun. I can already tell.” I nip at her neck, and she shudders. “Tell me what you need.”
My fingers trace circles on her thigh. I’m inches from touching her center. Her hips roll, wanting more, but I can’t give it to her just yet. One-night stands are tricky. We both have needs and desires. Those things are easier to satisfy usually for a man, but for a woman it’s trickier. Many things are either left unfulfilled or they’re learned after long-term exploration. We don’t have the luxury of lengthy bouts of play, and I’ll be damned if I leave a woman unsatisfied, so a quick conversation is a must.
“Ginger,” I prompt. “What do you need?”
She whimpers when I pull my hand free. Clearly it’s too much of a distraction for her, but I press my palm flat to her stomach and urge her against my straining erection against her back.
“A confident lover.”
“That’s a good start. What else?”
“Umm…”
I smile against her temple. Her head seems to be just as clouded as mine.
“Do you need pain?”
She shakes her head. “No, but a little aggression never hurts.”
“So you like it rough?”
“And hard,” she pants, her hips rolling against me. “Bossy.”
“What else?” My fingers work open the single snap holding her dress up at the nape of her neck, my hands replacing the fabric at her perfect tits as it falls away. Utter damn perfection. The warmth of them makes me groan, and I turn her around to face me, lowering my mouth to her flesh.
“I think that’s it. I like that. Mmm. That, too.” She moans when my teeth sink into the furled tip of her nipple.
“Unzip me.”
Her fingers work open the button and zipper on my slacks, and although I didn’t tell her to, she slinks her hand behind the fabric of my boxer briefs, her hand making contact with my shaft. I hiss in pleasure, standing still for a long moment as she explores the length of me.
When I stand to my full height, she seems reluctant to let me go. Her eyes stay on her working hand when I take a step back, her jaw slack.
“Ginger?” Her teeth dig into her lower lip. “Ginger?”
“Huh?” Her eyes snap up to mine.
“Get naked.”
Her eyes stay locked on me as I begin to unbutton my shirt, the head of my cock peeking out of the top band of my underwear. She works her dress over her hips, leaving her lacy black panties on as a tease. I like the sight of them on her milky skin. I’m going to like the marks they leave behind when I twist and stretch them against her skin as well.