Hooked (Hooked #1)(14)

Drew stuck a $100 bill in the concierge’s pocket and closed the door. He turned back toward me, his left eyebrow raised. “You better behave yourself. I can’t afford to just give $100 tips to every concierge every time they see your boobs.”

I bounced up on my knees, allowing my body to become supple, tender. “Well, I covered myself up.”

“Maybe he realized we were about to f*ck.” I laughed nervously. Drew raised his left eyebrow at me, preparing to pop the top from the champagne. “Cover your ears,” he warned me in a hushed, husky voice. And then; POP. The top came flying off the rim of the champagne bottle, colliding directly with the lamp on the other side of the bed. The lamp fell from the bed, erupting into three pieces on the floor. Foam came spewing from the champagne, falling to the ground. In a rush, I sprung from the comforter and grabbed the champagne glasses, catching bits of the foam and liquid as it spewed. Drew placed his mouth over it, laughing as it ran wild. I was so giddy, so vibrant. I watched as finally he poured the liquid into the champagne glass, the bubbles wafting toward the top. He poured his own as I stood, expectant, my breasts nearly out of my dress. I touched my blonde hair, gazing behind him at the illustrious city below.

“Let me make a toast,” Drew said, directing his gaze toward me. He cleared his throat. “Okay. First of all, to finding my true home, here in Chicago.”

“Here, here,” I called out.

“And to the Cubs’ amazing win earlier today.” He kissed his thumb, holding his hand in a fist. “Amazing. To further purchasing my own lot in Wicker Park, where I’ll be able to finally, finally build a Femme Fatale bookstore in my favorite city. And finally—finally. To you.” He pushed his glass out and clinked it with mine. The sound was so beautiful, sending shivers down my back.

I shivered, taking a sip. The bubbles coursed through my mouth, putting an immediate smile on my face. I looked up at him, noting the way his eyes had grown dark, the way he clinked his glass down. He began to unbutton his shirt, removing it quickly. His face was hot, ready. I clinked my glass to the side of his, on the table. I hadn’t had sex in years. So many years of wasted youth, I thought. I held up my hands, helping him to remove his shirt quickly, to remove his pants. He stood, finally, in his boxer shorts. His body heaved with uneven breathing. He grabbed my dress, then, and pulled it straight up over my head, ripping it a bit in the armpit and at the breast. I called out, feeling so utterly exposed, so naked in front of him.

And then his mouth was on mine. He rubbed my *, making me so wet. I felt crazy, like I would cum any moment. With his other hand, he was grasping my breast lightly, eagerly—rubbing at the nipple, making me want more. More. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him toward me. But his eyes opened at the force. “No,” he said. And he grabbed me and pushed me against the great window, all of Chicago draped at my back. The lights were glowing in the night sky as I leaned my head back, as I felt the glass against my ass.

“All of the city can see your perfect body,” Drew said. “All of the city knows I’m f*cking you.”

And then, I pulled at his boxers, shooting them down to his ankles. My eyes were bright in my face as his cock was revealed to me; so large, pulsing. He pushed against me, pulling it into my wet, dripping *. I sighed loudly, letting out a great call to the room—this hotel room that was so much bigger than my actual home apartment. I felt him come in and out of me, in and out, as my body crashed against the glass. “Yeah, do what you want to me,” I called to him. “Do anything you want to me.”


After a few moments at the window, pulsing against each other, bringing our lips together, having his lips, his tongue on my nipples, he suddenly pulled out of me and lifted me onto the bed.

My eyes were bright as I spread my legs to him. I wasn’t accustomed to having sex anymore. I tried to remember the last time Kevin—the college boyfriend—and I had f*cked like this—without any boundaries. I couldn’t think of a time.

Drew knelt down and brought his tongue over my *. I started gasping, rolling my head back against the pillow. “Fuck,” I moaned.

“Yeah, baby,” he called to me. “Yeah. I want you to moan.” I felt his tongue again, hot and tender inside the lips. I gasped, holding onto my breasts.

Finally, he pulled himself up on me again, moving inside of me, holding himself against me. He pulsed, over and over again, filling me with his dick. I called out to the Chicago world as it darkened completely to my right. “OH GOD. OH GOD.” I was about to come. I felt it; I felt the tremors. The orgasm burst through me, elevating my brain. I couldn’t think about anything except the supreme pleasure. “TOUCH ME.” I called to him. And he pressed his finger against my clit as his penis remained in my body, filling me, straining me.

The orgasm lasted several moments. My eyes were closed; my body was brimming with feeling. Finally, I opened my eyes and watched him continue to thrust in and out of me, ready to come. He pulsed, pushing his dick further and further in. And finally, his eyes closed, allowing his orgasm to tremor through him, to force him into a state of ecstasy. “Yes. Yes,” he whispered.

He fell to the side, wrapping his naked, hot arms around my naked body. We lay there together for a few moments, kissing tenderly, allowing our tongues to ravel around each other. Then we drank the champagne casually, falling into a sort of drunken haze. Sometime in the middle of the night, we both fell asleep in each other’s arms, not a thought for the outside world. In that moment, I was really, truly happy.