Whisper to Me(56)

His fingers wrapped around my thigh to lift my leg, and he placed it over his shoulder. “That’s it—nice and open for me.” He slid one finger inside, and I moaned.

He drew his finger out and lifted it to my mouth. “Taste how mouth-watering you are.”

My tongue flitted out to lick the very tip of his finger before he jerked it back and stuck it deep inside his own mouth instead. “Mmmm . . .”

It was so incredibly erotic—him showing me how much he enjoyed tasting me.

“You’re going to come on my tongue”—he licked my center once more—“because I need to taste you for a long time.”

Holy fuck. Kai’s dirty talk might have been the single most arousing thing about him. I pushed away the question of what he said to other girls, and pretended his words were for me and me alone.

He inched two fingers inside me and watched closely as I whimpered and breathed his name. When he removed them I almost protested. Until he parted my folds with his thumbs and drew my swollen center into his mouth.

He alternated between sucking and then flicking his tongue against me, and it didn’t take me long to draw nearer to that edge. I had that swooping feeling in my stomach, like I was about to plunge forward into the dark abyss of my orgasm.

“Oh God . . . so close . . . so close.”

He held my nub between his teeth and then soothed it with his tongue, as I ground my hips against his mouth. His thumb replaced his lips and applied direct pressure to my bundle of nerves.

I felt him lick lower and then tunnel inside me. The sensation of his tongue ring in such an intimate place provided a friction that built to an all-consuming level. The feeling was indescribable. Before I knew it, pinpoints of light danced around the edges of my vision, and I detonated.

“Fuck, Kai . . . fuuuuuuck.” My legs shook and I tried moving away from him but he grasped my thighs and thrust his tongue deeper still.

And shit, I couldn’t even wrap my brain around what in the hell he was doing to me. I was too busy trying to get control of my quavering stomach and hands and mouth.

Finally he removed his tongue and licked me slow and gentle until I sank against the wall, completely spent.

He stood up and allowed the fabric of my dress to fall so that it covered me again.

I looked down at his raging hard-on and felt the need to take care of him as well.

As if reading my mind, he backed away. He reached down for my underwear on the ground, stuffed it in his pocket, and then twisted the door handle. “I’ll get those back to you later.”

Before I could protest, he was gone.

Like, gone gone. From the bar. From the casino.

Shane and Dakota barely noticed I had returned; they were so immersed in their own little world. And I was glad for that because I had no idea how I even looked—probably thoroughly fucked. I’d had just enough sense to smooth some strands of my hair in the bathroom mirror. I searched around but didn’t see Kai near the band either.

Shane said that Kai texted him that he was leaving, and Dakota made a crack about the blond he’d been talking to earlier. My stomach bunched up at her words, but I knew he wouldn’t have just been with me and then left the casino with her. Would he?

But I did wonder where he had gone, and why he’d felt the need to leave so abruptly. He was so turned on and I was willing to help, but he didn’t want me to.

Had he let the blond assist him instead?

***

We stayed for one more drink before heading home.

Kai’s car was in the parking lot, and when we got up to the condo, the door to his room was closed and his lights were out.

“Night,” I said to Dakota as I turned to go in my room.

Draped across my pillow were my black panties.





Chapter Twenty-four


Kai





I sat on my bed, making a pile of my freshly-washed jeans, listening to a CD that Cameron, the drummer I’d met from the casino, had loaned me. It was of his jazz quartet, and they sounded pretty good.

This sort of music—my favorite kind of music—made me want to smoke a joint, inhale deeply, and revel in the beat. Strangely enough, though, that was the last thing I wanted to do today. Initially, I stuck to folding laundry because of the promise I’d made to Rachel and my parents. But now that I was sober, I realized that I could focus on every riff—every baseline melody. It brought a whole new depth to the composition in front of me.

When I dug through my laundry basket and pulled out a pair of Rachel’s blue panties that had mixed in with my boxer briefs, I knew we’d taken too many chances in the middle of the night.

Rachel had come to my room a few times in the last couple of weeks, and I’d gotten in the bad habit of holding her underwear hostage. It was a little game we played. She’d slip into my sheets as quietly as possible and then into my arms. Most of the time we made out like a couple of lovesick teenagers—at least that’s how it felt for me.