Avoiding Intimacy (11 page)

From their vantage point, they could see down the long stretch of water, but were blocked them from view.

Marco cut the ignition, removing even the hum of the powerful engine. She swallowed and looked out across the expansive display before her. Her heart was thumping a sharp tattoo in her chest as her anticipation grew. The tension was practically palpable between them, and Marco’s hands twitched on the steering wheel.

“Well, do you like it?” he asked, turning to examine her face.

She continued staring out toward the city view, but she felt his eyes travel up and down her very visible body under the nude gown. “You can see the stars,” she mused. She hadn’t been able to see them from the windows of La Scala Theatre.

“I’m looking at mine.”

With that, she turned her face back to Marco’s and found herself examining him as well. He was so fucking powerful in every aspect of his face. He had a strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones, and ever-aware keen eyes. His entire physique just screamed at her. He had warmed her up with a glance. Before she knew it, her body was on fire all over again. As if she hadn’t gone hours without his hand on her backside, she felt like she was transported back to that room, bent over that big fucking desk with his cock pressed against her ass. . This time he wasn’t getting off the hook.

His hand reached across the car, grasping the back of her head and pulling her toward him as he deftly unbuckled her seat belt. Their lips crashed together, igniting the spark that had been burning low all night. God, she wanted him desperately. She wanted him for every handprint on her ass, for every time he left her in the dark, for every fondling of Ms.

Cupcake the reporter, for every dirty and nasty thought he’d had about her, for every mention of the word
star
. She wanted to fuck his brains out. She wanted him to really feel her anger, passion, and frustration, and she wanted to take it out on him in the best way they knew how.

Chyna fumbled for his belt. She made quick work on pulling it open before unbuttoning his pants and yanking the zipper down. He untucked his shirt and slid his pants and boxer briefs off in one fluid motion. She had already kicked off her shoes and was soon throwing her underwear onto the spotless carpeted floor.

“Get back over here,” he said, reaching for her lips again.

He grabbed her left leg, pulling it across the seat, and across his body. She ducked her head to avoid hitting the low ceiling, so she could straddle him. His dick was hot and hard in her hand when she reached for him, and his head dropped back when she worked her way up and down the shaft. She hadn’t even needed to touch him really. He was already so turned on. At least she wasn’t the only one who had been left wanting earlier.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” she whispered into his ear.

She sat up a little higher so that she could adjust his dick underneath her.

When the tip touched her wetness, she shivered all over at the feel of him. This was what she wanted. This was exactly what she wanted. Nothing else mattered but this, this moment.

Her sex slowly licked across the head, swirling teasingly against him. Marco growled deep in his throat at her taunting behavior, reaching out to grip her hips forcefully between his hands. He shoved her down on top of him, and she gave out a short yelp as her walls expanded to fit him. When he filled her completely, she dropped her head forward onto his shoulder, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips.

“God, you feel good,” she whispered.

“I’ve been waiting for this for far too long.”

“You and me both.”

She slowly lifted herself up, feeling his hands tighten on her hips again. She eased back down on him before straightening up to look into his handsome face. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she began a quick bouncing movement— up and down, up and down. His hands kept the rhythm smooth, giving her some added force. When she rocked backward, he pushed up inside of her.

Her

climax

was

already

fast

approaching. She had been impressively turned on from the spanking earlier, and now, finally having him inside of her was more than exhilarating. It was euphoric.

She didn’t know if she could think of a better place to be than inside a multimillion-dollar car with her designer forcing her down on top of him over and over again.

“Marco,” she groaned. “Oh fuck!”

“My star,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her collarbone. “You’re going to come for me.”

“Make me,” she demanded, moving their bodies together faster. All she wanted was to hit climax. Her body was quivering on top of him with the impending release.

“When you do, I’m going to make you do it again,” he growled, pushing himself as deep as he could go. “You’re going to come until I tell you to stop.”

“Please, God, yes!” she cried, her body clenching demandingly around him as an orgasm ripped through her body.

He slammed her down twice more on top

of

him

as

her

body

shook

uncontrollably, and then he grunted, reaching climax with her. He shuddered underneath her before they both went still, the only movement coming from her trembling legs. He kissed a light trail across her shoulder and up her neck.

“You’re magnificent,” he whispered softly against the light beading of sweat at the nape of her neck.

Chyna just sighed into his embrace.

“I’m going to keep my promise to you.”

“What’s that?” she whispered. Her stomach constricted, wondering which one he could be referring to.

He chuckled against her shoulder, nibbling softly on the soft skin. “I’m not done with you yet tonight.”

“Are you sure this is the place?” Adam asked, looking up at the black building with a large overhang and patio.

Under warmer conditions, it would probably be full of black café tables and chairs. A large purple neon sign displayed the name, Sulgaana Hookah Lounge, in big swirly letters. Otherwise, the only decoration outside came from fake candles lighting the way to the entrance.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she said, pushing him forward. “A friend told me about it.

Used to be a club or something, but it’s been renovated.”

He poked her playfully in the side. “It doesn’t have a line out the door. Are you sure you’re actually interested?”

“I’m not stuffy,” she said, dodging his attempts to tickle her.

He stopped and raised his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Hey, you! Shut the fuck up!” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close to her.

He smiled and slung his arm across her shoulders.

“There she is!” he said, kissing her temple as he reached out for the door.

She jabbed him the ribs twice as he swung the door open. “You’re gonna get it tonight,” she said.

“You got me,” he said, doubling over like she had actually wounded him.

Strutting forward purposefully into the hookah bar, she said, “And, stay down.”

She could feel his eyes on her ass as she walked a catwalk to the host’s station.

She felt better and more confident tonight. Last night had shaken her a little, and she had called it an early night. Well, early for her. She had even pulled out some of Alexa’s double chocolate, chocolate chip ice cream from her freezer to see if that helped. It hadn’t. She had just felt fat on top of everything else.

No, she couldn’t think about last night —not about the pool, not about the bar, not about the club, not about leaving.

She refused to think about his body soaking wet in nothing but swim shorts.

Her mind wouldn’t even let her think about being at the bar with him afterward when he had bought all the right drinks and said all the right things. No way was she going to consider his charming personality, the way his hand found the small of her back when he leaned in to ask her a question, or those too smart hazel eyes that always focused on her face. If she wasn’t thinking about those things, she certainly wouldn’t go back to the feel of his body pressed tight against hers as they danced in the center of the nightclub.

Nope, she wouldn’t think about any of those things.

All she would let herself think about was that she had ended it. They’d had a nice time, and then she had ended it.

Yep, that was the only important part.

Adam was out with her tonight, and John had plans until later. Frederick was hanging out boyfriendless at some gay bar in Manhattan, and she was considering going to hang out with him later in the evening. If Alexa were in town, she would have already been with her.

The woman behind the desk was dressed in a traditional Indian sari in deep purple and orange silk. Her long dark hair was pulled back off of her face, showing the bright red bindi at the center of her forehead. “How many?” the woman asked, smiling with eyes veiled by thick black lashes.

“Two,” Chyna told her.

Adam approached the podium and poked her in the side once more for payback. She turned and glared at him.

He smiled brightly at the woman with that ever-present grin on his face. “We don’t need food though. Can we just go to the bar?”

“Of course, sir,” she said demurely, directing them to follow her.

They passed three large rooms with low tables and chairs topped with cushions that matched the host’s sari.

Food was served in circular aluminum bowls in the center of the table, and the guests were scooping directly out of the communal pots or adding food to a separate plate. The whole place smelled sweet and fragrant like flowers mixed with honey. The host took a turn to her right and pulled back a deep crimson curtain.

“Here you are,” she said, allowing them access to the bar area.

They both thanked her as they passed through the curtain into a different world.

The hookah lounge itself was made up of several adjoining rooms separated by sheer

curtains.

The

perimeter

had

cushioned alcoves with curtains that closed around the area, allowing a bit more privacy. All over the room, pillows and chaises in deep burgundy, navy, purple, and orange were pressed together for couples to lounge on. Hookahs in various colors were sitting atop white tables. A faint fog already clouded the room, and Chyna realized the aroma she had smelled before was the mixture of all the various hookah flavors blending together.

“Come on. Let’s head to the back,”

Adam said, taking her hand and walking through the already crowded room.

They found an empty alcove and took over the space. It was bigger than she had expected with room enough for five or six people rather than the two she had been anticipating. Adam deposited her there and then went in search of the bar. He returned a couple minutes later with her martini and a beer in hand.

“I ordered our hookah, too. They should be bringing it over.”

“What flavor did you get?” she asked.

“Apple,” he said with a shrug. “The guy said it was popular. We can try something else if you want.”

“No, apple is fine,” she said, reaching for her martini hungrily.

Alcohol was such a good idea. It made her forget things, and tonight, she really wanted to forget things.

A few minutes later, a waiter showed up with a bright green hookah and their apple selection. Adam tipped the guy and then went about his business setting up the shisha for them. When he finished, Chyna leaned forward, her navy spaghetti-strap dress

revealing

ample

amounts

of

cleavage. She took a drag off of the hookah, winking at Adam. She breathed out the smoke and then licked her lips, surprised by how refreshing the faint hint of apple was. Adam followed suit, breathing the smoke out.

Then, he started digging into his pocket. “I’m going to take this,” he said, taking a sip of his beer before he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he yelled over the music and people talking in the establishment. “I can’t really hear you!”

“Yeah, that’s better!” he yelled back into the phone.

Chyna looked over at him expectantly, enjoying the mixture of the tobacco and vodka in her stomach.

“Sure. You’re finished already?”

Chyna’s ears perked up. Excuse me?

Who was done early?

“Yeah, come on over. We just got a hookah.”

Who was he talking to?

“I don’t remember. Hold on,” he said into the phone before glancing back up at Chyna. “What’s the name of this place again?”

Her throat constricted when she went to answer, and she had to take another sip of her martini. It didn’t help much because her throat wasn’t reacting to the smoke.

“Sulgaana Hookah Lounge.”

Adam repeated that into the phone and then hung up. “John is on his way over,”

he told her. “He said his dinner plans ended early, and he would rather hang out with us tonight.”

With a shiver running down her spine, Chyna swallowed again, her throat tight.