Chapter Two

When the door opened, he indicated for her to step out before him then quickly passed, making his way up the hallway as he pulled his key card from his wallet.

The presidential suite was lofty with a living area, full bar, and four poster bed through an open set of French doors. He placed a “do not disturb” card on the outer door handle, and as soon as he locked the door he stalked towards the bar and began fashioning two cocktails.

Mira edged into the living area, as he worked. She took notice when he shed his suit jacket and draped it carelessly over the bar, but for the most part she was thinking about her prior conquests.

There had only been three a bartender in Cincinnati, a graduate student in Northern Florida, and a marketing manager who worked at a start-up in Silicon Valley. Other than this ritual of bedding a stranger before a high stakes demonstration, Mira rarely found time to date. She’d had one boyfriend in undergrad and had made no attempts to improve her love life since then. Her work as an environmental advocate wasn’t a job so much as a calling. She had spent the last five years of her life traveling the country and meeting with communities who feared corporations that had swooped into the area to build pipelines and drill for oil would destroy their homes and cause health hazards. Each endeavor to shut a project down had been more dangerous than the last. And rather than lose sleep over it, worrying her way through the night and showing up exhausted and foggy to the rally she had organized, this tactic of getting lost in a man had proved highly effective.

But the man behind the bar wasn’t anything like the others. There was something brooding behind his dark eyes, and it gave her the sense that he needed to get lost in her more than she wanted to get lost in him.

With drinks in his hands, he rounded the bar, approaching a plush leather couch, where he set the cocktails on the coffee table, stating, “In case you need it.”

She urged herself to say something clever like, but words didn’t come. Maybe she would need the extra nudge. He seemed powerful, and going through with it, she knew she wouldn’t be able to brush over her budding curiosity about him.

She turned for the couch, but he stopped her, taking hold of her waist, which sent a thrill rushing down her loins, stirring up heat and desire.

He gazed down the length of her then wrapped his hands tightly around her waist, as he said, “Do you have any idea the things I’m going to do to you?”

 Truthfully, she didn’t. “You think you are going to surprise me?”

He edged his warm hands under her sweater and as he slowly slid his palms up her sides, his smooth skin warming her. She was shocked with the sudden thrill of being touched by a man she knew nothing about.

“I don’t think you are half as brave as you pretend to be,” he said, meeting her gaze.

 “Now who’s interested in talking?”

 He smiled and his eyes turned hungry.

“What if I don’t want to warm you up at all? What if I want to thrust inside you and make you bend and sweat and gasp until you adjust?”

Her legs went rubbery after hearing that, but she locked her knees, willing herself not to give away the effect he was having on her.

 Her voice was weak as she whispered, “I’m not picky.”

“Who are you trying to forget?”

 “No one.”

 “What are you trying to deny with this little display?”

 “I’m not denying anything.”

His hands grazed around to her back, where he found her bra clasp and unfastened it.

 “Then why do I get the feeling this is out of character for you?”

She couldn’t help but smirk, realizing he was just as curious about her as she was about him.

“Do you need it to be?” she challenged. “Do you need me to be innocent like this is my first stab at a one night stand?”

He frowned, considering the question, then said, “No.”

Grabbing the hem of her sweater, Mira lifted it up and over her head, her bra straps loosening then sliding down her shoulders. As she let the garment fall to the floor, he cupped her breasts, holding her firmly in both hands, grazing his thumbs over her nipples, and sending tingles of heat rushing through her body

Then he leaned in, his lips to her ear as he began massaging her breasts, and said, “Do you come easily?”

No. She couldn’t say her thoughts out loud. For a man who seemed preoccupied with making sure it would be okay that he used her with little regard for her own pleasure, she was sure that indicating she needed a lot of extra help and attention to arch over the brink would be a turnoff for him.

 “Don’t worry about me,” she said, as he eased back to look at her.

 “All right,” he said. “I won’t.”

He wrapped his hand around her wavy, brown hair, and angled her chin up as he took his time looking at her nude breasts, the length of her stomach, the swell of her increased breathing, but he didn’t touch her except to pop the top button of her jeans and ease her fly down.

When his fingers found the lace edge of her panties, she reached for the bulge beneath his slacks. Feeling his hardness and thickness, pressing against the material, made her hot and wet, and she realized she was smiling.

Releasing her hair, he stepped back and began unbuttoning his dress shirt, keeping his eyes on her. She was fast to his slacks, unbuttoning them and pulling them down, revealing black boxer-briefs that hugged him perfectly. She eyed his bare chest, the definition of his pecs and abs, the thin trail of hair leading below his waistband.

It was hitting her now, the idea of having a complete stranger thrusting inside her, a man she knew nothing about, and the anticipation was making her ache.

Quickly, she wrestled her wedge-heels off without bothering to untie the laces, then worked her jeans down, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.

 As soon as she was free of them, she bent for his shoes to help him, but he stopped her, grabbing her by the upper arms and urging her up.

While he tended to his own shoes, kicking them off and pulling his slacks away, she wondered why he wouldn’t let her do it. It was as though he didn’t want her lowering herself, getting on her knees for him, which seemed to be the opposite of his attitude regarding whether he got her off or not.

Taking one of the drinks in his hand, he sat on the couch and drank slowly, then set the glass on the coffee table.

He was certainly a gorgeous man, and Mira knew she'd hit the jackpot, physically speaking

“Come here,” he said, looking up at her as he rested his head back against the leather couch.

She rounded the coffee table then straddled him, gradually lowering to his lap and feeling the heat of his bulge pressing against her. He felt so good that she wished the cotton of his briefs and the lace of her panties weren't between them. His erection was thick and long, and as she rested her elbows on his shoulders, her hands draping the back of the couch, she couldn’t help but slightly rock her hips to work off the ache that had been building.

He groaned and his cool breath rushed over her hot skin, causing her nipples to harden, but he didn’t touch her at all.

 “Pull me out,” he whispered.

She sat back, hooked her fingers under his waistband, and pulled the cotton back, watching his cock spring free. The length of him arched up his abdomen, and the sight made her ache all over again. Once she worked his boxer-briefs down his thighs, she wrapped her hand around him. He was so hot and hard, his shaft smooth as silk. She was dying to feel him inside her.

 “Do you have protection?” she asked quietly

“Yeah.” He motioned for her to hop off, but she quickly pinned his shoulders back to the couch, which made him smile.

 “I will get it.”

 “In my wallet,” he said. “In my pants.”

She padded around the coffee table and found his wallet, then the condom. As she tore the wrapper off, he said, “Lose your panties.”

With her free hand she did, stepping out of the black lace and returning to him.

He took the condom from her, and the sight of him handling his erection and rolling the rubber down was unbelievably sexy. When she kneeled on the couch, straddling him, he flexed for her and cupped her breasts.

“You are big,” she said, lowering down until she could feel his hard head against the slippery curve between her legs.

He squeezed her nipples to get her attention and she gasped as her eyes snapped up to his.

 “Look at me,” he ordered, though in a gentle voice. 

She kept her gaze locked with his as she lowered, his erection pushing inside her, her body expanding to his girth, a rush of hot tingles dancing inside her and across her skin. He felt so good filling her, and she panted, sweating and gasping, until she rested flush against his lap, the length of him settling deep inside.

“Oh God,” he groaned. “You are so tight.”

“Touch me,” she whispered, her arms draped around his shoulders. But he wouldn’t.

“You don’t want to hold me?” she asked. She was rocking, hips thrusting slightly to work the sweetest friction inside.

 He laughed, low and breathy.

 “Fuck me how you like,” he said. “Then it’s my turn.”

 She eased back, looking at his face, as he throbbed inside her.

She plowed her fingers through his hair, holding his head, then began thrusting, edging back then making him fill her again and again, as he groaned.

“What will you do when it’s your turn?” she asked breathlessly, as the heat built inside her

 “You will see.”