I thrust into her and hear each brush of her dress against the brick wall, but I don’t give a shit. She feels too damn good to stop myself.
Wynter’s nails scratch against the back of my shirt, lost in the pleasure as I thrust in and out of her. She clenches against me and I know she’s close.
I lift her up by the ass, and both legs wrap about my waist. Wishing I had wrap-around mirrors in front of me, I would love to see those spiked heels against my ass as I pound into her. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and holds on as my thrusts speed up and she gets louder before going silent and we both get lost in the ecstasy of release.
The aftershocks have us breathing heavily and panting. It’s the most intense fuck of my life. Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of one-night stands, but I’ve never needed someone so badly that I had to take them in a bathroom because I couldn’t wait. Wynter Carlisle is a woman I want more than I’ve wanted anyone, ever before in my life, and that fact scares the hell out of me.
As soon as I pull out she’s reaching down to pull up her panties and smooth down her dress. Her hair looks freshly fucked and everyone in the bar will know what we’ve done when she leaves the bathroom. I left my mark on her, even though it may not be visible. Lipstick smears the skin around her lips red from when we had that punishing kiss earlier. The freckles blooming across her face seem darker now that her skin is flushed. Her pupils dilate with excitement.
We spring apart like we’ve been electrocuted when a knock sounds on the bathroom door. I look over at Wynter, waiting to see embarrassment or regret, but she smirks at me. I watch her stumble across to the mirror, trying to fix her hair and her lips. She makes a good attempt, I’ll give her that.
When a knock sounds again, she heads toward the door as I scramble to ditch the condom and pull up my boxers and pants. Right before opening the door, she looks back over her shoulder at me, her hair falling down her shoulders in the sexiest way.
“Not bad, Croix. A hate fuck. I guess I can check that off my to-do list. Thanks.” And with that, she opens the door and leaves. Leaving me standing there almost with my pants down. As the door opens again, I expect it to be Wynter coming back in to tell me off about something else with that witty tongue of hers.
Instead, I find a very shocked looking older woman. She looks up at the sign on the door and then looks at me. I smirk, put my hands up in defense, and slide past her like I didn’t just have the most amazing sex in a hole in the wall bar’s restroom. With the fucking ice queen of my dreams. I have a feeling the icicle lodged in my heart is going to cut deep when it dislodges itself. I thought these feelings inside of me were lust and hate, but it seems it’s a little more complicated than that.