Page 8 of The VIP Package

“What?” She gives me an impatient glare. “I’m busy.”

“I can see that.” Why am I talking to her like this? I don’t even know this woman’s name.

But that doesn’t stop me from wanting her. From watching her fingers work inside her panties. She’s stroking and thrusting, circling her clit behind a damp panel of silk. My mouth starts to water. Her panties are white, with a whole lot of lace, and a matching lace bra tips up her tits. Delicate fingers work in a frenzy behind the thin wisp of material. She’s fucking herself and I won’t stand for that.

That’s my goddamn job.

“Stand up,” I command, and she does it.

But she makes it hurt, scraping her nails up my chest as she rises. “Are you going to fuck me now?”

“Would you like that, you dirty little slut?”

The flash in her eyes says she likes that a lot. “Let’s see you try.”

That’s a challenge I’ll gladly accept. Dragging a hand to her shoulder, I grip one rounded hip with the other. Seizing control of her body, I spin her to face the wall.

Her sharp little breath says she wasn’t expecting that, but the woman adjusts quickly, drawing her arms up the wall. Pressing her cheek to the pillow of her hands, she peers at me over a shoulder. “I don’t have all day,” she sasses. “Hurry up.”

The mouth on this woman. “I should shove my cock back down your throat for talking like that.”

But there’s someplace I’d rather shove it. She wiggles her ass, grinding her body back into me. My dick lunges and twitches, straining to get inside her. There’s no back to her panties, and it wouldn’t take much to ease past the dainty white string parting the firm, rounded globes of her ass.

“Come on, already.” She tilts up her hips and her wet little pussy pops into view. These panties are pointless, so I snatch the waistband and jerk them down her legs.

“Show it to me,” I order. “Spread your legs.”

Looking over her shoulder, she narrows her eyes. “You’d better ask nicely.”

“Pretty fucking please.” Gripping her waist, I use one of my thighs to force her legs apart. Her feet slip beneath her, but my hold on her hip keeps her upright. Now she’s tilted at the perfect angle. Those bare, swollen lips beckon, slippery and begging to be plundered.

I’m glad to oblige.

Shoving my pants down with one hand, I glide the head of my cock through her slick seam. Jesus, she’s wet.

My breath hisses out, then turns to a groan. “Fuck,” I snarl. “No condom.”

The redhead looks back, her eyes locked with mine. “I’m on birth control,” she says. “I had a full panel of blood tests and STI screenings a week ago.”

Probably for the wedding she mentioned. I can’t think about that right now. I’m not thinking at all, to be honest.

“I’m clean,” I choke out, knowing I’m crazy to trust her. And she’s nuts to trust me. “I’m tested regularly, and haven’t been with anyone for?—”

Longer than I care to tell her.

“A while,” I finish, clenching my jaw.

She takes in this information with a nod. “I’m way past the point of making rational choices.” Her eyes lock with mine in what should probably serve as a warning. “Fuck me bare. And make it snappy.”

Lust surges through me, angry and hot and completely detached from reason. This is insane. This is reckless.

This is me with a death wish, apparently.

Because I’m nudging the head of my cock at her entrance, poised on the brink of something I can’t control.

Then I draw a deep breath and sink into her hot, wet heat.

CHAPTER 3

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