Vanilla On Top(59)
I step close and fit myself along Heather’s firm backside, snuggling her pert ass against the front of my pants. She’s wearing the red heels I bought her and it lines up her bottom with my cock perfectly. She stiffens and steps a few inches away. I slide one hand over her hip and dip two fingers into the front pocket of her leather pants.
“What the…?” she trails off when she looks back and sees it’s me behind her.
“Hello, beautiful. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Tony!” She pulls away my hand and turns to face me, a smile on her upturned mouth. “What are you doing here?”
I gesture to my suit. “Worked late, had dinner out, then drinks here—Marcus said there was some special DJ event going on.” I look around the packed dance floor. “Guess this is it.”
She snuggles close, wraps her arms around my neck and leans in to speak in my ear. “I’m here with friends. It’s supposed to be a ‘no guys’ night.”
I snort and run my hands down to cup her ass and pull her toward my stiffening cock. “Yeah, and that guy I saw you dancing with doesn’t count?”
Heat burns in her eyes when she feels my growing erection. “Are you jealous, Tony?”
In all fairness, she did rebuff the guy on her own, and I have no reason to be jealous. But I am. I have to fight the overwhelming desire to haul him outside and pound his face into the brick. “Maybe a little,” I admit.
She circles her hips to the current blasting song, driving all pretense of dancing right out of my head. The tightness in my groin feels exquisite. If I could claim her here in front of all these people, I would. Instead, I lean in and nibble on her ear. “What you do to me, woman. You’re driving me crazy. You know that don’t you?”
A surprised expression crosses her features. “No more than you do to me, mister,” she hides her reaction with a confident smirk, but I saw it nonetheless.
In a sudden flash of clarity, I realize she needs this. For whatever reason, this glorious woman needs this night out to feel good about herself and to feel desired. The world may not see the confidant woman I experience in private, but she’s in there. Fighting her personal demons to emerge whole.
“It’s hot in here,” I say in a flash of inspiration, reaching for the lapels of her tiny black jacket, determined to let this glorious bird fly. “Let me hold this for you.”
“No, I…,” she trails off as I slip the coat from her shoulders, revealing her pale skin. Once the black fabric skims down her arms, the full beauty of her sexy top comes into view.
“You look stunning.” I let desire shine in my eyes.
The cockiness I’ve grown to love sparks to life and she steps back, thrusting one hip. “Wait ‘til you see the back.” She executes a one-eighty, pulling her black tousled curls over one shoulder to give me the full effect. Wide bands of leather cinch her waist and draw my eye to the big bow in the middle of her back.
My fingers itch to run over her curves and grasp her hips tightly. A muscle jumps in my cheek and I feel an answering pull in my aching cock.
In a flash, she turns again, tossing her hair back to cascade down her spine. “Close your mouth, Tony. You might catch flies.”
I shut my mouth, damned if she wasn’t right. I was gapping like a slack-jawed local. Passion burns in my gut like a low-fuse bomb. My hand reaches out to grab her, the dancers around us and the pounding music fading into oblivion. Nothing matters but drawing her to me and locking my lips over hers.
She squeaks in delight at whatever she sees on my face, and after a teasing moment succumbs to desire and folds into my embrace. I grind my mouth down on hers, uncaring if I’m creating a scene in the middle of the dance floor. This woman is mine and I want the world to know it.
She pulls back, breaking off our kiss before I can deepen it further. She bites her lower lip, a war of emotions playing across her features. “Can you wait ‘til later? I don’t want to blow off my friends.”
A primal urge inside me wants to scream, but the rational part of my brain still functions. The buzz of alcohol sings through my body and an hour of letting it calm down might be for the best. I clench my jaw tightly and nod, fighting the instinctual urge to drag her out of this meat market by her arm.
“I’ll grab a table over there.” I nod my head to indicate a vacant table within view of the dance floor.
She smiles, a shy, beautiful little grin, as if she’s pleased I plan on sticking around. As I make my way off the floor, I spot Mr. Grabby Hands. He noticed our interaction and glares at me. He breaks his gaze first and scans the crowd for new prey.