Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(3)

Our hips curled together, and one hand remained squeezing my hip as the other meandered up to my ribs in a slow caress that left a ticklish, prickling path on my skin. Sweat gathered on my back, the press of the crowd and the heat of the man with his arms around me making my blood rush in my veins. Slowly, tension unwound from my muscles. My mark was a good enough dancer that the more I relaxed, the stronger his lead was until I was loose and following the coaxing guide of his hands. I shifted my feet apart, and his leg filled the space. His breath was hot on my neck, his hands gripping tighter with every slow roll of our bodies in unison.

His thumb stroked against the underside of my breast and my eyes widened, surprised by the intense pound of desire that answered the light touch. I pulled away, just for a second, and he was ready as I spun to face him. He pulled me flush against him, and now the leg between my thighs was something to grind against. I gripped at the collar of his absurdly fancy suit, running my fingertips along the silken underside, and tipped my chin back to meet his eyes.

The flash of colored lights was reflected back at me in his gaze, as well as my own face. My lips were parted on a pant and my eyes were hooded, arousal plain to see. I tore my stare away, watched the undulating forms of the other dancers over his shoulder, frowned at the edgy need racing through me. This was more than I usually found on these excursions. More desire, more chemistry, and that carefully measured leash of control I held was starting to slip from my grip.

And then his head dipped down, lips skimming over my throat as his fingers dug into the curves of my hips and ass, drawing me tight against the ridge of arousal between us. I moaned, and I don’t know if he heard it in the thunder of bass and moaning lyrics around us, or if he felt my breath, but he sipped softly on my skin, tongue flicking out to taste over my pulse.

For once, too much felt good. My eyes fell shut and my forehead landed on his shoulder as we moved in tandem. A few shifts of clothing and we’d end the mimicry of sex in exchange for the actual physical act. I was as impatient to move onto the next part of my routine as I was greedy to savor the sensuality of so much touching, so much closeness with another person.

This was why I did this. This is why I braved the panic attacks of being out of my recent safety zones in favor of the anonymous contact in over-crowded clubs. I missed touch. I missed intimacy. This was a poor woman’s charade of the two, but it was better than shivering in my bed all night trying not to think about them.

I rocked against the thigh rucking up the hem of my dress and my panties slid wetly against my skin. Shit. This guy had to be feeling how badly I wanted him by now. Not that I wasn’t feeling the same from him.

We lifted our heads at the same time and all I needed was one look from those blacked out angel-eyes of his to know. I surged up, and his arms circled my back as his eyes slid shut, our lips colliding in a perfect meld. No clumsy confusion, just out-and-out deep kisses, tongues stroking together as I rode his leg like it could get me to the crashing point I was craving so badly. It probably could, if I was patient.

I was never patient.

I pulled away, felt his groan vibrate against my lips, and then grabbed his hands from my back, dragging him through the crowd with me. His brow was faintly furrowed, his smile curling as I led us off the dance floor and toward the dim and twisting hall, past the customer restrooms and around the corner.

Employees Only. The private restroom that was always open and never occupied. Until I walked in with whatever man I’d grabbed for the night.

I pushed in with my shoulder, finally far enough from the pounding music to hear his easy laugh, the chuckle rasping in my ear like a tongue between my thighs. It turned quickly into a moan as I pushed him against the back of the door, pinning him there by those perfect shoulders of his and taking his mouth again, rubbing my body against his in a desperate bid for friction.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” he muttered, before losing track of whatever he planned to say as I sucked on his tongue.

This was the tricky part. Some guys wanted to get to know you. Plenty were usually happy for a quick anonymous fuck. But sometimes the sweet ones wanted to know—

“What’s your name? I’m Le—”He shuddered as I bit his lip, grasping the back of his neck with one hand and holding our mouths together.

Finally getting with the program, he let out a soft, muffled, growl and gripped my ass in his big hands, spinning me to the door with a soft slap of my skin against the surface. I wrapped my legs around his hips, a high breathy sigh escaping my lips as he rubbed the stretched crotch of his pants against my lace underwear.

“Fine, we’ll save that for later,” he said, laughing.

There’s not gonna be a later, I thought. “Condom?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting this.”

I resisted the urge to scoff. No one came to Philia without at least hoping to get laid. Instead I pulled out a dollar bill and passed it to him, nodding to the machine over his shoulder. He laughed again, that wicked sound that made my stomach flip and my panties wetter, and scuffed his hand over his dark hair.

The thing I liked about the employee bathroom was that there were a few lights out overhead, so it was dim but not dark, and that none of the employees bothered walking all the way back here so it was always empty. Also, it had a fantastically open countertop that was never soggy with soapy water.

My mark for the night went to buy us some protection and I crossed to the counter, waiting until he turned around so he could watch in the mirror as I flipped my skirt up and shimmied my underwear down. He crossed the small room quickly, eyes tracking my hands as he flipped the condom packet aimlessly between his fingers.