Page 44 of Stick Fight

Sure, the dress I’m wearing is funny and has served its purpose, but Roman doing this for me. It was sweet…touching.

Speaking of touching.

I run my hands over his shoulders and tip my face to his. In the dark night, with the fireworks going off in the distance, I go up on my toes and stop moving, eager to kiss him again. But when I do, he steps into me, still dancing me around and my lips land on his chin, his entire body bumping mine.

“Jesus,” he says as I nearly tumble backward, but I just don’t care. I laugh again, and he puts his arms around me, anchoring me to his body. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” I murmur without hesitation. Right now, in this moment, I’m very okay. Tomorrow when we pack up and head to Boston, leaving Vegas, and everything I own in New York behind, that will be a different story.

Tonight is about touching…enjoying.

He grins. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“You know what would be better?” I ask and scratch my head. Honestly, I can’t believe I managed to keep the wig on this long.

“Getting that wig off because it’s driving you crazy.”

“Partly right,” I say, and slide my hands lower, grazing his firm backside.

His eyes widen as I graze his firm backside and his mouth opens, one word spilling out. “Ah.”

I give his butt a little squeeze and when he arches his brow, waiting for me to clarify, I say, “Getting out of this wig, and these clothes because I want to be naked with you.”

“Oh.”

I grin. “Now look who’s down to one-word sentences.”

“Baby, I want you so fucking bad.” He slides his hand around my neck, gripping a fistful of my hair as the fireworks light up the need in his eyes. I take a fast breath. I swear to God, I have never seen a man look at me like this before. It’s hot…empowering.

“Why don’t we get out of here,” I murmur into his ear.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He captures my hand and the next thing I know, he’s hurrying me to the rooftop elevator. We step inside, our breaths coming fast, our eyes flittering back and forth as an older couple from the wedding party join us. We give a curt nod and when the woman grins at my outfit, I quickly explain about the convention. Only problem is, it’s hard to talk when my body is so fired up.

I catch my reflection in the mirrored walls, catch the flush on my cheeks as my body fires, craving this man’s touch again, dying to feel him inside me.

Are you really ready to finish what you started with Roman Marinelli?

Yes.

Do you think this is wise?

No.

Roman presses the button to our floor again—it’s obviously not going to get us there any faster—and I bite my bottom lip. I catch his eyes and grin. This man is as anxious as I am, and that’s a real turn on.

The elderly man clears his throat, like he’s trying to stifle a laugh. I have no doubt he can feel the tension in the small space every bit as much as I can. The elevator dings. “That’s our floor,” he says and takes his wife’s hand. “You two have a nice night.”

We nod and as soon as the elevator doors close, Roman is on me, pushing me back against the mirror as his mouth devours mine. He grinds against me, and I moan as his beautiful cock, full and thick, promises so much.

“You know,” I murmur, his mouth going to my neck. He presses open mouth kisses to my flesh, and I tilt my head to give him better access. “They have cameras in the elevators.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” His words are muffled as he kisses a path to the neckline, his teeth nipping at the dress. Thick fingers grip the hem of my dress and he bunches the fabric in his hands as he lifts it.

“Neither do I,” I manage to get out. Gasping, as he slides a hand between my thighs, I push against him. My body is vibrating, on fire, desperate for him to touch the needy spot between my legs.

“Are you wet for me, baby?” He cups my sex, and groans. “If I put my mouth here, am I going to find you all sweet and gabbalicious?” Pushing the fabric to the side, he slides a finger along my drenched folds. “Fuck yeah. You need this huh, baby? You need my cock in here?”

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