Faux Pas Page 8

  I make it to my car, opening the door for her, and she gets in without a word as I walk around and slide in next to her. I start the car and pull away. “I want you to know that I don’t do this.” She turns herself in the seat to look at me. The streetlights are coming inside the car as I make my way through the empty streets. “I’ve never done the one-night stand, walk of shame thing.”

  “Um …” I start, and she throws her head back, laughing.

  “Alex, I don’t want to know. I just want you to know that I was not expecting this, nor do I do this,” she says, and I pull into my underground parking. I press the button to turn off the car, and Meghan reaches out and opens her own door and is out and standing behind the car by the time I get out.

  “Nervous?” I ask her when I see her thumb tap against her purse.

  “No,” she says, “more like excited.” She smiles, and I move to her, her body automatically molding into mine as though she has done it forever. As though this isn’t the first time, and it was always meant to be done.

  “Then let’s get the show on the road.” I wink at her and drag her to my bed.

  Chapter Nine

  Meghan

  “Let’s get the show on the road,” he says, his voice thick with lust, causing my heart to beat faster than it’s ever beat before.

  When I saw him walk down the step toward us as we sang, I saw the scowl he wore the minute he looked at me. At that moment, I didn’t have a care in the world; I was in Paris in one of the best clubs you could be in. We just didn’t have bottle service; we had the red carpet service. I was with my two best friends, and I was enjoying every single second of it. I didn’t even feel the pinching of my feet in my heels. I walked up to him, trying to keep my cool and not sound like an idiot, but the minute the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I didn’t want him to know that it bothered me. I didn’t want him to know that it hurt me, and I didn’t want him to know that he mattered. But you know the saying—a drunk’s words are their sober thoughts.

  I thought he would brush me off, that he would dismiss me. What I didn’t expect was his hands on me, then his mouth on me, giving me the best kiss of my life. The kiss that you tell your friends would be the best. The one that makes your heart race, your hands clammy, and the butterflies fill your stomach. That is what he gave me, and in return, I wanted to give him tonight.

  We walked to the elevator, and the minute he pressed the button, the doors opened. He held out his hand, and I walked in. He pressed the top button and then had to insert a key. I stood at the back of the elevator, and he came to stand next to me. I think I still had some liquid courage left because I stood in front of him and put my hands around his neck while his hands went to my hips. “Kiss me.” I don’t know if it was a question or a statement; all I know is that I need him to kiss me again.

  “Gladly,” he says, leaning to nip my bottom lip before his tongue licks the little sting. My tongue twirls with his as his hand moves to my ass, bringing me against him. I’m about to literally jump his bones when the elevator dings, and the door opens.

  He walks past me, grabbing my hand, and I step into the room. The first thing I notice are the six floor-to-ceiling windows against the back wall. I stop in my tracks, making Alex stop in front of me. “Holy shit,” I say, looking around. The ceilings are so tall it would take six ladders to change a light bulb. The floor is dark, and each piece zigzags all around the room. To the left are two huge doors with molding that look like they were hand-carved. In the middle of the wall is a fireplace surrounded by a gray marble. A mirror hangs on top of the gold fireplace with more molding on the top. “You live here?” I ask, looking around and seeing that all the walls have hand-carved moldings. Two antique blue cushioned chairs are in front of the fireplace.

  “I don’t live here,” he says, and I look at him as he shrugs off his jacket. The beauty of the room becomes a distant memory as I see him unbutton the cuff on his wrist. I toss my purse in the chair, turning back to watch him do the other wrist.

  “Don’t,” I say, walking to him. His hands fall to his sides, and my hands go to his chest, the heat from his body seeping through. “Yesterday, when you showed up at the restaurant and sat near me, I would see this,” I say to him, taking my finger, moving his shirt away and rubbing his collarbone. “Like it was teasing me. A glimpse of your tattoo coming out.”

  “Meghan.” He hisses my name. “I am walking on the edge here, Chérie.” He says sweetheart in French, and the butterflies are back when I look up from my finger to his eyes.

  “The question,” I say, moving closer to him and kissing his neck where I feel his heart beating, “is what will it take to make you fall off that edge?” I whisper, my hands going to the button on his shirt, unfastening one. “Is it going to be when we’re both naked in bed?” I say, unbuttoning another one. “Will it be when my mouth …” I say slowly, untucking the shirt from his pants. Unbuttoning the last two buttons, I pull the shirt open down the middle, showing me that he’s all muscles underneath. The tattoo on his right side covers his whole right pec. My hands move underneath his shirt, going up and moving it off his shoulders to fall to the floor behind him. “Covers your cock?”

  I know right away that he didn’t fall off the edge; he jumps off the edge feet first, and he growls—yes, growls. His hands go to my waist, and moving one hand around my waist, he bends a touch and sweeps me literally off my feet. My hand goes around his neck, and I lean in, taking his lips softly. My tongue licks his bottom lip as he walks toward where I’m hoping is his bed. He walks to the right through the doorway, then enters a different room, walking past another couch to an open doorway. A huge bed sits in the middle of the room, molding all around the ceiling in squares. He puts one knee on the bed, crawling while still holding me. “One last chance, Chérie,” he says. “Un, deux,” One, two, he says.

  “Trois,” I finish for him. Unwrapping my arms from him, I kneel in front of him, putting my hands on his waist. He grabs my face in his hands, and no words are spoken when he bends down and takes my mouth. His tongue fights mine in circles, his hands going into my hair and then finally to my neck. He finds the zipper, and the sound of the zipper fills the room louder than our panting. He pulls the front of the dress down, gasping when he sees that I’m not wearing a bra, and my breasts are bare for him. My nipples already pebbled and aching for his touch. My dress hanging from my hips.

  “Knew it,” he says. His eyes almost hooded, he bends down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking it. The touch shoots straight to my stomach, moving lower to my core, and my lace panties get wetter and wetter the more he sucks. “Knew you would be perfect,” he says, going to my other nipple and giving it the same attention. My head falls back, and a soft moan comes out of me.

  “Alex,” I say asking, pleading, almost begging. “Please.”

  “The way you say my name …” he says, kissing the top of my breast and then trailing his tongue along to my neck and then my lips. “Makes my cock so hard.” His fingers roll my nipples, making my back arch. “How do you want it?” he asks, and I don’t understand the question, so he continues as he kisses the side of my neck up to my jaw. “You want it soft or hard?” My eyes try to focus, but his touch feels like it’s everywhere. “Dirty?”

  My hand goes to the front of his pants, cupping his hard cock. “I want it any way you want to give it to me,” I tell him as I move my palm up and down twice. Then finally I undo the front of his pants, and the sound of his zipper being pulled down fills the room. “Soft,” I whisper. My hand dips inside, and I’m not surprised that he’s perfect in every sense of the word. “Hard.” My finger grazes the tip of his cock when I touch the waistband of his boxers. “Dirty.” My hands grip his pants and boxers, pulling them over his hips. “Wet.” When I say the last word, I finally bend down and lick the tip of his cock, twirling my tongue around his head and then sucking it in. I don’t know if it’s a growl or a groan that roars through him, but
I don’t stop. I take as much as I can in my mouth, his girth bigger than I’ve ever had. I push myself as much as I can go without gagging on him. His hands go into my hair, gripping both sides as he slowly, ever so fucking slowly, fucks my mouth. His hips surge forward as I suck deeply, twisting one hand up and down at the base as I move my mouth.

  “I’m not going to …” he hisses, his hips going a touch faster. “Last.” I take over, my head moving faster and faster. “I’m going to,” he moans, his cock head becomes bigger and bigger, and I know he’s about to come. I don’t let his cock go, and he comes down my throat. I continue to take him till nothing is left. “Fuck,” he says when I let his cock slip out of my mouth. “Fuck,” he says again when I crawl over to the edge of the bed and swing my legs off. Standing up, I shimmy the rest of my dress off, taking my lace panties off at the same time. “Fuck,” he says again; this time, his hand goes to his cock and he strokes it as I bend down to untie my shoes. “No,” he snaps, and I look back up and see he’s climbing off the bed, his cock having never gone down. He kicks off his shoes, then his socks, and his pants are the last thing to come off. I stand here in my stilettos, watching him. My hands play with my nipples as he watches me.

  “Are you wet?” he asks me, and I use my right hand to move down to my bare pussy, my middle finger going through my folds. Getting slick with wetness right away, I then pass my finger ever so slowly over my clit and then right down the middle of my slit, slipping inside. He watches me, and I don’t hold back, my brain telling me not to be shy. I stick another finger inside me, and I finger fuck myself.

  He watches for a couple of seconds, then comes over and rips my fingers out of me. Holding my wrist, he takes my fingers into his mouth and cleans them till nothing is left. “Sweet as fuck,” he says. He slams his mouth down on mine, my taste on his tongue, his on mine, now together. His hand goes to my ass, and he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He walks back to the bed, placing me on my back.

  “Put your feet on the bed, Meghan,” he says to me, and I place my heels flat on the bed, my knees up as he kneels between my legs. His hands slowly move my knees to the side so my pussy is now fully open and bare for him. He lies down between my legs, his face right there, his tongue coming out as he slowly licks right up my slit. “So wet,” he says, doing it again. “Wet from sucking my cock,” he says, and I get on my elbows to look down at him. His eyes are on mine, staring right at me, when he leans in and sucks my clit into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, making my hips buck up.

  “Are you going to come on my tongue?” he says, tongue fucking me while his hand moves up and slowly circles my clit. “Or are you going to come on my fingers?” he says, sticking two fingers in me. “Fuck,” he says, licking up and down as his fingers fuck me slowly. “Or will it be both?” he says as his tongue and fingers both go inside me. “Only one way to find out,” he says and then he tongue and finger fucks me. The finger circling my clit, going from soft to a touch harder, a touch fast. It’s too much; I feel him everywhere. My stomach sucks in, and I feel so close. “Squeezing me,” he hisses. “Fuck.”

  “Yes,” I moan, my hips now taking over as I meet his finger and tongue. One hand goes to my clit where I work with him, my finger and his, my eyes slowly closing when I finally come on his fingers or his tongue or both. I don’t even know anymore. The only thing I know is I’m coming, and I’m coming hard. My pussy quivers, over and over again, and just when I think I’m done, it comes again out of the blue and like never before. My head falls to the bed as my hand grasps the back of his head, my hips coming up as I ride his mouth, not letting his head go till it’s over. My legs go straight, and my hand falls like a limp noodle beside me. My eyes close, and I hear him get up and a drawer open. I want to open my eyes and see what he’s doing, but I can’t. I just lie here on the soft sheets and listen. When I finally have the strength to open my eyes, he’s rolling on a condom and coming over to me.

  “I’ll try to hold myself back,” he says, rubbing his cock up and down my slit to get my juices on him.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head, and he stops moving. “Don’t hold back,” I tell him. “Take me the way you want to.”

  He doesn’t say anything; he just slams inside me, my knees coming up to his hips and then my legs wrapping around his waist. He waits a second for me to get used to him by rotating his hips slowly, and then when my pussy quivers once, he lets go and pulls out, only to slam into me again, over and over again. He takes me deeper and deeper, moving one leg beside his neck and then going even deeper, touching me right where I need to be touched. I put my other foot on the other side, and he slams so deep I come as soon as he goes balls deep into me. “Fuck,” I say, and he slams into me over and over again with reckless abandon, and I take him, each and every time. He pushes my feet off his neck, pulls out of me, and I groan when I don’t feel him again. He flips me over with his hands gripping my hips, and he impales me from behind. My lower half lies flat on the bed, my hips held up by his hands as he fucks me from behind. “I’m going to,” I say, and I don’t think he can hear me in the room as the only sound is our skin slapping together.

  “Get there,” he says loud, and I do. I get there right when he plants himself inside me all the way to the root and follows me right off that ledge.

  Chapter Ten

  Alex

  My hand goes to my nose to swat at whatever is tickling me. Slowly, I blink my eyes open over and over again until I finally focus through the red hair covering my face. I look over and see Meghan’s head on the pillow, and her hair fanning all around her. The cover is pulled up to her neck, but I know that under it, she is without a stitch of clothes.

  Looking over at the side table, I see five empty condom wrappers and smile. I just smile, thinking of each and every time I took her. It was never enough, and I always wanted more. Something in her pulled me each time, so much that I had to rush out of the shower soaking wet to run through the bedroom and grab a condom. Just thinking of it gets my cock ready for more action. I reach over and pull open the drawer to grab another condom, then slip it on and turn toward her.

  She is lying on her stomach, hands under her pillow, one leg straight and the other pulled up, leaving her pussy open for the taking. I run my hands under the cover, touching her softly till a finger slips inside her a couple of times, her body welcoming me. She stirs and moans when she turns to face me. “Morning,” she says softly, her voice heavy with sleep. I grab her hips, bringing her front flush with mine. One of her legs hitches over my hip, and I slowly slide into her. I take her slowly, so slowly that by the end, I let her flip me on my back, and she rides us both to the finish line.

  “I need another shower,” she says from the side of my neck. After she rode out her orgasm, she collapsed on top of me. My hand rubs her back. “In just a minute,” she says, and I laugh, hugging her to me. “In five minutes.”

  “We have to be at my sister’s at two,” I tell her, and she just nods. “Good news is we don’t have to go far. It’s on the roof.”

  She finally rolls off me, and I watch her walk out of the room totally naked. She comes back in with her phone in her hand. “I need clothes,” she says to me, but her eyes never leave her phone. I get up and walk to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and wash my hands. She walks in this time without a phone. “Do you think I can borrow a shirt till they get here?”

  She walks next to me, and my cock that was half mast is now ready for round two. “Help yourself,” I tell her, and she looks down at my cock and smirks.

  “Are you joining me in the shower?” she asks me, and I look at her with a smirk on my face as well. “This time, get the condom before we get all wet.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind that much last night when I left you and came back and you were pleasing yourself.” I wink at her, and she laughs.

  “Would have been better if it was your fingers.” She comes to the side of me, and now I face her. “Or your tongue.” S
he wraps her arms around my neck. “Or your cock,” she whispers right before she nips my bottom lip.

  “Is that so?” I say to her, and she just nods. Turning and walking into my walk-in shower, I don’t bother answering her; I just run back into the room and grab not one but two condoms. I walk back in, and she’s sitting on the bench with her hands buried inside her. “Started without me, I see.”

  We stay in the shower until the water runs cold. She now sits in the middle of my bed with a towel wrapped around her hair, and she’s wearing my shirt from last night, not buttoned up and her lace panties on as she sips a coffee I just made for her. I’m wearing shorts and nothing else. “We can sit on the terrace,” I tell her, and she nods at me. I walk to the doors in the corner and open them, walking out into the warm air. A cast iron table with two chairs sits in the corner, and I sit down in one and watch her face when she comes out and her mouth opens. “Is that the Eiffel Tower?” she says, and I laugh, turning over my shoulder to look.

  “That’s what they tell me,” I joke with her, and she runs back inside to get her phone, taking a picture of the tower.

  “This must be amazing at night,” she says, sitting in front of me. The shirt’s now buttoned up except for the top two buttons, her hair now loose and wavy.

  “Tonight, you can tell me how amazing it is,” I say, and I’m shocked at even insinuating that she’s coming back here tonight.