“I think you need to stop caring so much about everything, and maybe just let go for a little while.”
This time when he kissed her, there was no hesitation on her part. She didn't even flinch when he untied the bow and slid the shirt away from her shoulders. She shook free of it, sat there clad in only her bra, but she didn't even think about it. Her brain was spinning from the alcohol and his words and his nearness.
“I don't think I've ever let go,” she panted against his mouth.
“I'm good at it, I'll show you the ropes,” he assured her, one of his hands spearing into the hair at the back of her head as he kissed along her jawline.
She felt like a teenager, making out in some dark corner. Not that she'd ever done that as one, but it was naughty. Thrilling. She tried to get closer, curling one of her legs under herself and stretching the other across his lap. His free hand immediately went to her hip, smoothed a path down to her knee, then worked its way to the inside of her thigh, his fingers digging in as they slowly traveled the length of her leg.
Katya had slept with two men in her entire life, and been “intimate” with four. Intimate meaning she gave Joey Simms a really bad blow job during her freshman year of college, and the following year, Mark Demello had received several decent hand jobs from her. All four men had also gotten their hands into her panties, but only after many, many dates, and even then – only two had been around long enough to actually see her fully naked.
She'd known Liam for all of four hours, and she was ready to strip down and sit spread eagle for him. Do anything he wanted. It was insanity. She'd been raised better than that, she'd been taught to respect herself. Been told that men only wanted one thing, and she had to protect herself from their wanton ways.
But right then, as her new found confidence washed away her inhibitions and Liam's hands burned away any concerns, she had one thought screaming through her head like a freight train.
What if I want that “one thing”? What if I have “wanton ways”?
There was the briefest hesitation when his fingers smoothed over the skin on her stomach, and she held her breath, praying she wouldn't have to beg him. She wasn't sure her tongue would be able to cooperate. But then he surged back into the kiss, his tongue dominating her mouth, almost distracting her from the fact that his hand was now sliding its way inside her satin underwear.
“How did I know you'd feel so perfect,” he sighed, rubbing his nose along the side of her neck while his middle finger worked its way inside her body, reminding her that it had been a very long time since anyone else's fingers had been there.
“I'm not perfect,” she gasped for air and clung to his neck, her fingernails biting into his skin.
“Angel cake, you are perfection – you just need someone to show you,” he whispered, pressing the heel of his hand down against her, causing her eyes to cross a little.
“Please, please, show me.”
“Maybe we should move this to my office.”
Katya pulled back at that comment. Of course, he was probably right. She knew sex was imminent, and so did he – maybe not the classiest thing, screwing a guy only hours after meeting him, but at least in his office, they'd have some privacy. It was a sex club, maybe he had a bed in there. A nice, normal bed, where they could have nice, normal sex, because she was such a nice, normal girl.
“I don't want to move,” she said, leaning in again and licking the edge of his ear. She smiled when a shiver ripped across his shoulders.
“C'mon, I told you, this isn't a competition, and if it was, you won. You are officially the coolest. Do you know how long it's been since anyone's gotten me to do stuff on the floor out here? But I don't think you're ready to have sex in the middle of a bar,” he said.
He was right. Considering she'd never had sex outside of a bedroom, she probably wasn't ready for something that drastic. But she also knew she wasn't ready to stop what they were doing. She wasn't ready to go back to being the old-Katya. She'd come back soon enough, new-Katya wanted to revel in her new found freedom. Wanted to roll around in all the feelings racing across her nerve endings.
I want to be in this moment.
Katya pushed at him, forcing him to remove his hand from her pants. He sighed as she climbed to her feet. She was a little wobbly on her heels at first, then caught her balance. Liam sat upright and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Want me to call you a cab?” he asked, finally glancing up at her.
He was very good looking. She couldn't quite place his age. Twenty-seven? Eight? He looked like he spent time outdoors, his bushy brown hair had a couple natural blonde highlights running through it. His eyes were a dark brown, like chocolate, warm and sensual while they moved over her face. His skin was a deep toasty tan, more proof of his time in the sun, and she was suddenly desperate to see if he was tan everywhere.
She stared back at him while she kicked off her shoes. Then his eyebrows went up as she fumbled with her belt, struggled to pull it loose. Once it was free, she dropped it next to her shoes. By that point, she was breathing fast, and Liam didn't say anything, just leaned to the side and pulled a chord. The sheer curtains dropped into place, offering them a little privacy, and Katya was thankful for his intuition. Then he leaned back in his seat, and his eyes went straight to her pants.
She knew if she hesitated, old-Katya would catch up with her. The bitch had been chasing her all night, so she needed to move fast. She undid the clasp at the top of her slacks, then slowly peeled down the zipper. The loose material clung to her hips for a second, then gravity worked its magic, pulling the soft fabric to the ground, leaving her in nothing but her matching lilac underwear set.
“See,” he said, sitting forward so he was eye to eye with the bow at the top of her panties. “Perfection.”
Katya stepped forward then, straddling his lap. He accommodated her, grabbing her hips and holding on while he scooted back in the seat. He helped her settle in right over the bulge in his pants, and she felt breathless as she realized she had caused that reaction in him. This man, who engaged in swingers conventions and ran a sex club. She had turned him on, she had gotten him hard.
“I'm not perfection,” she moaned as his mouth trailed over her breasts.
“Right now, you're pretty damn close. We're not playing around anymore, Katya. If you want this to stop, now is a good time to say so,” he urged her. She combed her fingers through his hair, pulling a little.
“I never want this to stop.”