“How wet is your pussy right now?” he asked me.
I turned my head to face the wall, unwilling to let him see my face. I didn’t want to answer, but I knew he wouldn’t let me dodge the question. “It’s wet,” I said.
He chuckled. I heard fabric rustle, and then I felt the vibrator start buzzing again.
“Oh God,” I said involuntarily. The buzzing started out pretty weak, but Mr. Sutton quickly adjusted it so that the vibrations were steady and powerful. I was already so sensitive from being teased all evening that I squirmed on the sofa, trying to escape the sensation but unable to. The vibrator rode against my clit just right, exactly where I needed it, but too strong, too overwhelming.
“It’s too much,” I whimpered, and he eased it down slightly, enough to take the vibrations from uncomfortable to oh-god-right-there. I heard myself moan, and I let my head fall back against the back of the couch.
“That’s right,” he said. I knew I was biting my lip and tossing my head back and forth, but I couldn’t stop myself. The buzzing felt too incredible for me to care about anything except the tension growing in my lower belly and the melting, liquid pleasure between my legs.
I felt his free hand on my hip, and his thumb still moving on my shoulder, and the vibrator buzzing between my thighs, making them quiver. I was so close. I turned my face away from him, sure that I looked ridiculous, and he bent his head and moved his lips along my jaw.
“You’re going to come for me now,” he said, mouth moving against my skin.#p#分页标题#e#
I was powerless to refuse a direct order.
I came hard, back arching, toes curling inside my shoes. It seemed to go on and on, waves of pleasure rolling through me. I couldn’t do anything but lean against Mr. Sutton’s warm body and let it wash through me like the sea.
“Good girl,” Mr. Sutton said. I felt him stroking my hair.
I opened my eyes. Mr. Sutton was watching me, smiling slightly.
Mr. Sutton. I gave up: I couldn’t think of him that way anymore, not when he was looking at me like that, like I was something special. Like there was nowhere he would rather be. I couldn’t maintain the artificial distance of Mr. Sutton. He was just Carter.
God, I was so screwed.
“Regan,” he said. I shivered. I loved how he said my name. “It’s still early. Come home with me. I want to see you in my bed.”
Later, I would think of all the snappy responses I should have made. How much are you going to pay me? I should have asked, or I don’t go home with strange men.
But I wasn’t that quick on my feet. Instead I just looked at him and said, “Okay.”
Chapter 6
The cold air hit me like a frigid wall as I followed Carter out of the club. The neighborhood was always deserted at this time of night, and my hand automatically slid into my purse to curl around my can of mace. New York was pretty safe, but you never knew.
But I probably didn’t have to worry, with Carter there. I expected him to usher me into a sleek black town car, but instead he said, “My apartment is five blocks from here. Can you walk?”
“Of course,” I said, a little offended. Hadn’t he seen me walking around the club all evening? A few blocks in my heels wouldn’t kill me.
“Good,” he said. “Walking will be faster than calling my driver. I can’t wait that long to get you alone.”
I readjusted my scarf and pretended that I was only shivering from the cold.
Carter headed north, and I hurried to follow. Pretty soon, I was regretting my bravado. He was tall, and he walked quickly; I would have had a hard time keeping up with him even in my favorite shit-kicking boots, and in heels, it was basically impossible. And it was cold, an icy wind blowing off the Hudson. I wished he’d called his driver after all.
He glanced back and must have seen that I was struggling, because he immediately slowed his pace. “It’s not far now,” he said. “Only a few more blocks.”
“Sure,” I said. Inwardly, I was wondering what kind of billionaire walked places. I thought they took limos everywhere.
We traveled the remaining blocks in silence. Carter had his hands tucked in his coat pockets and was staring intently at the sidewalk. It was like he’d already forgotten I was there, and I was afraid to say anything and break the spell, remind him of how utterly insignificant I was. If I just kept my mouth shut, maybe he would forget. I wasn’t ready for the night to be over.
“Here we are,” he said after a few minutes, and I looked up. We were at the base of a modern glass skyscraper—the sort of building that I passed by every day, and wondered who had enough money to live there. I’d always wanted to go inside and see how the other half lived.