We swayed with the crowd—it was impossible not to. Aimee leaned back in Matt’s arms, smiling. Dale put his arm around me. I nudged him and he looked at me quizzically. I just shrugged and smiled.
“You and your obsessions,” he said close to my ear.
“You’re just as bad,” I told him, realizing it for the first time myself. “You want to be the object of obsessions.”
He looked at me for a long moment and I could tell he was thinking.
Then he grinned and said, “You’re right. We make quite a pair, don’t we?”
“Are you ready for your surprise?”
The limo dropped Aimee and Matt off at Aimee’s house, and while I expected it to head west, toward the apartments, instead it headed north. The driver seemed to know exactly where he was going.
“Is it Tyler Vincent wrapped up in a big bow?” I teased. “Because I don’t think you could top tonight otherwise.”
“Ouch.” Dale put his hand over his heart, pretending to be mortally wounded. “I rent a room at the Waldorf Astoria so we can spend the night together, and you want Tyler Vincent instead?”
“Oh Dale.” I immediately regretted my words. Besides, even though I was on a high from the concert, my mind hadn’t exactly been on Tyler Vincent. It had been on Dale. “Oh my God. You’re kidding me?”
He grinned, shaking his head and holding up his first two fingers. “Boy Scouts honor.”
“You were never a Boy Scout.” I laughed, sliding across the seat and wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I was too!” he protested. “I even got my merit badge!”
“We’re really going to New York?” I whispered, looking out the tinted windows at the world going by. I’d only ever been into New York City itself once before, on a school field trip. Although I had a feeling I wouldn’t be doing much sightseeing on this one. Not that I cared.
He nodded, looking at his watch. “Should be there in about forty minutes.”
“Mmm then maybe we should start now,” I murmured, sliding my hand up under his shirt, feeling the hard ridges of his belly. “That’s a long time, and there’s a lot of room back here.”
“I’m not objecting.” He slipped further down on the white leather seat, his hips at the edge, pulling me into his lap.
I straddled him, leaning down to kiss him, the soft, familiar press of his lips meeting mine, his hands moving up the soft skin of my bare thighs. My skirt was short, far shorter than I was used to or allowed to wear, but I’d changed at Aimee’s, both of us doing our best to draw all of the masculine attention, and of course, one male in particular—Tyler Vincent himself.
It had been quite successful, at least on the first count. Dale had given me his jacket, insisting I tie it around my waist during the concert, and I’d humored him, but he didn’t seem to mind the shortness of my skirt now we were alone. His hands stroked my thighs as we kissed, a slow rhythm, up and down, driving me crazy. His tongue made lazy circles with mine, teasing, playing with me.
“I’m not sure I can do this for another half an hour,” I whispered against his neck, feeling his hips grinding into mine. I felt how hard he was for me.
“I could do this for days,” he whispered back, hands on my hips, moving me in circles against the denim crotch of his jeans.
I moaned, shaking my head, but he captured my mouth again, kissing me as he rolled me onto the seat, on my back, his thighs spreading mine, forcing them to open around him. His lips grazed my throat, tongue bathing my collarbone, tracing the line of it to the hollow of my throat, making delightful circles there.
He was so hard, God, so damned hard. I wanted him so much I couldn’t stand it. I reached for him, feeling the hot denim rub of him against the crotch of my panties, but he grabbed my wrists like he always did, pinning my arms above my head and kissing me dizzy.
“Please,” I gasped, cupping his face in my hands and sucking on his lower lip.
Dale shook his head, not giving me what I wanted, but giving me a little more, his tongue teasing the seam of my lips open, flicking the slide of my mouth again and again until I was writhing beneath him, another matching set of lips between my legs swollen and wet for him, aching for more. Then he slipped his tongue into my mouth, forcing my lips to open to him, making his tongue hard and thrusting it in and out, slowly and first, then faster.
I moaned, sucking gently on his tongue, my hips matching his driving rhythm, grinding and rolling under him. I lost all sense of time or even location. I was just pure sensation, feeling everything, the heat of his body, the way the leather of the seat stuck to my skin, the pull of my hair trapped under my back as we rocked, our mouths locked tightly together.
I wanted him, but I knew what he meant. I could have kissed him like this forever and done nothing else at all except this. We kissed and kissed, like it was our first time making out and we were too afraid to go any further, afraid not only of maybe our parents walking in or being caught doing something naughty, but afraid of what came next and how it would change things. Everything.
“We’re here, Sara,” Dale whispered as the limo pulled up to the Waldorf Astoria. I let him lead me. I couldn’t see straight. My mouth was swollen from his kisses, but my sex was even more so. I was so wet it was embarrassing. If I’d been a guy, I probably would have knocked someone over with my erection. Thankfully I didn’t have to deal with that, but Dale was smart, keeping me in front of him, leaning up against me from behind as we checked in so I could feel how much he wanted me, but no one else could see it.
“No bags, sir?” the desk clerk asked as Dale signed for the room.
“No.” Dale nuzzled my ear, whispering. “We’re not going to need clothes.”
I barely registered the ornate lobby, the chandelier hanging from the ceiling high above us. I knew he’d picked this place so I would remember, so it would be special, but I couldn’t focus on or think about anything else but him. I couldn’t wait to get to our room, not so I could see the amazing view from the forty-seventh floor, but because I couldn’t wait for him to strip me down and take me and make me his. Finally.
Finally.
Dale slipped the key cards into his back pocket as we walked to the elevator.
“How did you pay for this?” I whispered as we got in. He couldn’t afford to get a set of wheels or a new amp, but he could afford a limo and this hotel room?
Dale smiled, putting a finger to his lips. “Your fairy godfather.”
“But I don’t—”
He kissed me quiet, pinning me to the back of the elevator with his hips, his studded belt leaving red patterned marks on my thighs because my legs were wrapped around him so tightly. I was sure the security cameras were filming us but I didn’t care.
We kissed for forty-seven full floors, both of us groaning when the bell for the elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open.
He grinned. “Race you.”
He got a head start, but I made it to the door first, panting and leaning against the door frame, waiting for him to catch up with the key card. He was just seconds behind me, sliding the keycard into the slot, his eyes dark with lust at the metaphor as he slipped it back out and opened up the room.
It was a suite with a living room area, the bedroom through that. Dale shut the door behind me and I saw strawberries dipped in chocolate sitting on the table, along with a dozen roses, a card tucked into their stems.
“You thought of everything.” I thought I wouldn’t be able to focus on the room or anything but Dale, but the cool air over my skin, the strawberries and flowers, the big, mahogany canopied bed, and oh my God, the view! Looking north, down on Park Avenue, toward Central Park, you could see everything, including the Empire State Building, all lit up.
“Look at this!” I cried, standing at the window, the city all neon below us.
“I can’t think about anything but you.” He slid his arms around me from behind and I felt him, still hard, reminding me how wet I was for him. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else for months. Everything I do, I’m thinking about you.”
“I know.” I sighed, wiggling back against him, hearing him groan.
“Sara, I have to warn you,” he murmured, his teeth raking my earlobe. “I’m going to come like a teenager, the minute I slide inside of you for the first time.”
I moaned, reaching back for him, finding the edge of his belt, and pulling on it, grinding his hips harder against me.
“It’s okay,” I panted. “Oh God, I just want you inside of me. Please. Please.”
He turned me around, his mouth slanting across mine, lips parting as we kissed, tongue making long, deep thrusts as he urged me toward the bed. And oh, what a bed. If I’d thought Dale’s bed was big, this was like a cloud floating in an infinite sky. I leaned back, letting him kiss me down onto the mattress, then got up on my elbows so I could watch him peel off his t-shirt. He was so beautiful, his shoulders broad, belly flat and ridged, a dark line of hair running down from his navel and disappearing below that flashy, studded belt.
He reached for his belt, his gaze never leaving me, stretched out on the bed, still fully clothed but wanting him, waiting for him, and I couldn’t resist. I sat up, squeezing him between my thighs and grabbing onto his belt, quickly unbuckling it. He watched me, a half-smile on his face, as I unzipped his jeans, pushing them down his hips and letting him spring free.
But then I took him in my hand, stroking him gently, and his mouth fell open in a soft “o” of pleasure, his eyes closing as I pumped him in my hand, an easy rhythm, not too fast, not too slow, watching his face the whole time. His cock was just as beautiful as the rest of him, straight up hard, circumcised, the tip wet with pre-cum.
Dale gasped when I leaned forward and licked it off. I couldn’t help it. I had to taste him. I wanted all of him. He moaned when I slid to my knees off the edge of the bed and slipped the head into my mouth, rolling my tongue around the tip, teasing him, and his hips rocked forward to meet me, slipping his cock further down my throat.
“Sara,” he cried, grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling back, the length of him sliding out of my mouth with a thick “popping” sound. “Oh God, wait. Nnn. That’s too good.”
“No such thing,” I whispered, nuzzling his thighs, working his jeans further down his legs until he could step out of them, leaving him completely nude.
“Your turn,” he insisted, pulling me up to standing in front of him.
There wasn’t much to take off, but he took his time, peeling off my shirt first, kissing my shoulders and the tops of my breasts in my bra before unhooking it in front and freeing them. The look on his face was almost pained the first time he saw my breasts, my nipples pink and hard as pebbles under his thumbs. Then he was licking them, making me moan and arch against him, aching for more.
My skirt had an elastic waist and he slid that down my hips, leaving me only in panties. I’d already lost my heels and my purse somewhere near the front door of our suite. He grabbed my hips, pushing me up onto the bed and sliding me back, back on the endless mattress so he could stretch out between my thighs, kissing his way leisurely up them, first one, then the other, skipping over my sex, so wet the white crotch of my panties showed it entirely.