“Okay,” the guy says. He takes all the cash out of his wallet and hands it to Max. “Here you go. I’ll be going now.”
Then he turns and walks away.
“Buh bye,” Max calls out after him.
“Wow,” I say under my breath, leaning into him. “I really thought we’d have a body to bury.”
“Violence isn’t always the answer, Ada,” he says to me, shoving the cash in his jacket pocket. “Not when robbery is.”
“Too bad, I was looking forward to you throwing down in here.”
He eyes me, nose flaring. “Oh yeah? That does it for you?”
I nod, giving him my sexiest I want to fuck you smile.
I can feel the energy leap off of him from here.
“Because I can punch the next guy right in the face, if you’d like,” he adds. “Lord knows there won’t be a short supply since every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to hit on you.”
“Can you blame them?” I ask sweetly, biting my lip for show.
“Fuck no,” he practically growls. Then he grabs my arm and pulls me away from the alcohol line. We were so close to actually getting service, but when he leads me over to the private handicapped restroom and opens the door, practically throwing me in, all is forgiven.
He locks it, his long legs cross the room in two strides and then he’s leaning over to cup my ass in his hands, lifting me up like a feather, and shoving me back against the wall, kissing me long and deep and wild.
I wrap my legs around him and he shoves my dress up to my waist. It was no accident that I wore a lacey strappy sundress dress today, and that I’m also going commando. Easy access all the way.
“Fuck, darlin’,” Max says through a shaking groan, his hands sliding up over my bare hips, thumbs gliding in over my pussy where I’m already wet. “I had no idea.”
I giggle as he licks my earlobe, breath hot and frantic as he unzips his jeans. “Serves you right for not trying to feel me up earlier.”
“I’ve been a stupid, stupid man.” He grabs his cock, hard as concrete, positioning it against me. “How about I make it up to you?”
Before I can answer he shoves inside me, leaving me gasping, my fingers digging into his head, grabbing his jacket as he pushes to the hilt.
“Oh god,” I cry out, my words catching.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, pulling out and thrusting his cock back in, my head hitting the tiles. He kisses me again, a soul-searing kiss that makes my body fill with butterflies, then the pace gets faster, wilder.
I press the heels of my shoes into his ass, wanting him deeper still, loving how far he goes, how he fills me.
“You called me your boyfriend,” he says gruffly, kissing down my throat.
My breath hitches, hoping that didn’t bother him. “Sorry about that.”
He pulls back, breathing hard, running a thumb over my lips. “Don’t be. I can be that for you. Or I can just be the man who’s about to make you come. I can be anything you want.”
“What do you want?” I ask, and I realize that maybe we shouldn’t be having this conversation while he’s screwing me in a bathroom stall at a Gwar concert.
“I have what I want.” He kisses me deeply, pulls back to look intently in my eyes. “You.”
“And what am I?”
His gaze drops to my mouth, to my cheek, to my nose, back to my eyes. “You’re everything and the only thing.”
I’m momentarily speechless.
God damn it.
I swallow hard. “If you didn’t have your dick inside me, I might say that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
He gives me a lazy grin. “Good thing I have my dick inside you, then.”
Then he thrusts inside me, that big fucking dick of his, so deeply that my lungs are emptied of air, and starts railing me until I think he might just impale me on the tiles.
I had a feeling it would be like this with him, that it would be this good.
But it’s even better than I imagined.
He works me fast, I hold on tight. His skilled fingers bring me to a boil while he pistons his hips into me, swift stabbing movements that makes me see stars. He’s in complete control for most of it until his breathing gives away to husky feral cries and then we’re both coming at the same time.
His pumping slows, his groans fading, my world spinning. I don’t feel like I’ll ever come back down from this, but I literally do when he pulls out and lowers me back to the ground.
Fucking hell that was awesome.
If we weren’t in a dingy bathroom in the House of Blues, I’d be tempted to have another round.
But we are.
And the best thing for us is probably to go back to the hotel room to continue.
“You know, I think I’ve seen enough of Gwar,” I joke to him, pulling down my dress. I lean over and grab a few sheets of toilet paper for the insides of my thighs (I know it’s NOLA and everything goes, but I refuse to walk around with dried cum on my legs).
But when I clean myself up, stealing a glance at him, I notice he’s gone totally stiff.
“Max?”
He turns to face me.
Eyes on fire.
At the same time, that white lightning sparks inside me, almost painfully hot, stealing my breath away.
“Oh shit,” I manage to say.
He stares at me, swallowing thickly, looking pained. “This isn’t good.”
I eye the door. “There’s a demon outside that door isn’t there?”
“I…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Consider ourselves lucky if there’s only one. I’ve never felt this before.”
I know what he means. Even at the bar when Michelle walked on stage, that was powerful, but it felt more centralized. Like she was just affecting Max, more so than me. Here, now…it’s chaotic and all over the place.
I have
