About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(18)
I made it my business to know as much about my clients as possible. When possible. Funny thing about Belinda was that she could speak to crowds of a hundred without batting a lash. Put her in front of a man at a bar and she’d withdraw into herself.
With Belinda, every meeting was a first date. Every appointment, I could be a different man. It worked out great for me, because I could channel a different character depending on what mood I was in.
I dressed in dark fitted jeans and a grey shirt, slipped on a pair of Italian leather dress shoes, and then went downstairs to the bar to meet Belinda for our ‘blind date.’
Before I could sit, I saw her. She spotted me and smiled, walking over to me. I stood, waiting for her to approach. I don’t know how it happened, but as I went to greet her, a name I hadn’t planned to say came out of my mouth. “Maya?”
Belinda blinked in confusion a moment before smiling and shaking her head. She lifted her hand and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a shy smile. “Maya,” she uttered thoughtfully. Then, beaming up at me, she agreed, “Yes. I’m Maya. And you must be…” her nose wrinkled adorably, “…Nick.”
Oh, God. She thought I was role-playing. I had just been about to apologize, when I spotted Belinda’s approving smile. There was nothing I could do now. She seemed to enjoy the change of name. Quite frankly, so did I. That was that. I was officially a sick f*ck.
I needed a drink. The easy smile I wore so often didn’t sit so well tonight, and even though I had left my top button undone, I felt as if I were suffocating. “Would you like a drink…Maya?”
Belinda squinted. She was pretty cute. “No, thanks. But I am starving.”
Thank God. I was glad for the directive. I took Belinda’s hand and tucked it into the crook of my elbow, muttering meaningless conversation as we walked to the hotel’s restaurant. Belinda smiled and responded just as meaninglessly as I had spoken, then I stood behind her and helped her into her seat, because I was a f*cking gentleman and she was paying for that part of me.
We sat opposite each other and made small talk. We ordered the special. We ate the special. I drank far too much for a dinner occasion, and as we made our way to the elevator, I found myself tipsy and horny as hell.
I held Belinda’s hand tightly and pulled her close, regardless of being the only two people in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed behind us, I slowly walked her into the corner of the small box. Placing a hand on her stomach, I bent lower to place my lips at her cheek. I closed my eyes and whispered a desperate plea, “Can I kiss you…Maya?”
Her reply came in the form of a soft sigh. I didn’t need time to think about what I was doing; it came naturally to me. I was a whore. This was what I did.
Pressing her into the corner, I kissed her cheek before turning slightly and capturing her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss. I could feel Belinda’s shock. I would normally never be so bold, but tonight, Belinda wasn’t herself. She was Maya. And I was Nick.
Nick seemed to be one horny motherf*cker, and so I went with it. Never mind being tipsy. Perhaps I was just using that as an excuse. Through her shock, I heard her moan. That was all it took to drive me on. I kissed Belinda like I had never kissed a client before. I kissed her as I wanted to kiss a woman, as I craved to kiss a woman. Unrestrained and wild.
Her tongue dipped out to lick the seam of my lips. My arms snaked around her waist and I pulled her into my body, groaning. I grinded my jean-clad erection into her stomach and reveled in her gasp. I needed to be inside of May—
Belinda. I needed to be inside of Belinda.
As if the gods of sex had heard my silent demand, the elevator opened on our floor, and in a tangle of lips and limbs, we somehow stumbled through the hall to the room. I have no recollection of how I opened the door, because I don’t actually remember doing it.
I walked her backwards to the bed till the backs of her knees hit the frame. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I pushed her back and she fell onto the bed, a dreamy look imprinted on her face.
My raging hard-on was making demands and, stupidly, I was listening. My fingers worked the buttons of her shirt, and once the final button was undone, I spread the material, eyeing my prize. Belinda watched me, wide-eyed as I leaned over, kissed her hard on the mouth, and ran my hands up her stomach, past her ribs to gently grasp her breasts.
But it wasn’t enough. With my mouth on hers, I unclasped the bra’s front hook and freed her perky, pink-tipped beauties. I pulled back to look at her. The soft blush on her cheeks, and eyes darting around nervously, only made me harder. My hands found their way back to her breasts and I squeezed lightly before running my thumbs over her taut nipples.
God, I was a tit man. Belinda didn’t have a lot in that department, but she was sensitive and goddamn responsive.
A growl escaped me as my mouth descended and I captured a sweet pink bud between my lips. I sucked and nipped until Belinda was a panting mess, all while still wearing her skirt and high heels. I worked quickly, unhooking then unzipping her tight tan skirt. Her panties joined it on the floor, along with her bra and shirt.
The high heels stayed put, and so did her silky thigh-highs.
Belinda scrambled to the middle of the bed as I began to disrobe. I worked slowly, unbuttoning my shirt then letting it fall over my shoulders and onto the carpet. My jeans and boxers came off in one swift tug then I was bare, exposed and damn excited.