the pump of music their words were barely audible. “Not anymore,” she answered, hoping he didn’t hear the tiny hitch on her voice as she struggled to keep the real Kat hidden.
He stood a good six inches taller than her, his masculine presence as heady as the drink she’d consumed. Taking a deep breath, she leaned her back toward him and was surprised to feel an impressive length of aroused cock nudge against the small of her back. She shifted her hips against the erection eliciting a grumble from the man behind her, though most definitely not a complaint.
“What’s your name?”
Biting her bottom lip, Kat thought about her reply. This wasn’t her. She was a wallflower. A self–made recluse who made a habit of avoiding the public. This was a woman she’d created, and as ballsy as she was feeling, delving into real names meant revealing a part of her she didn’t want to face tomorrow. “I don’t want you to call me in the morning.”
For a moment only the incredible hum of drums could be heard above the steady breathing of the man. His warm breath on the back of her neck sent her nipples aching. He knew what she wanted. They both wanted the same thing. Was he going to walk away? Did the fact she’d turned the table on men’s usual tactics make him think twice before taking their experimental material forward?
In answer to her silent questions, one of his large palms snaked across her lower stomach. With a slight tug, he brought her back flush against his chest, his seeking fingers caressing the hem of her suede ultra–miniskirt.
“Do you want to dance?” he whispered in her ear.
“No.” Breathing was now difficult. The dance floor, though a good place for foreplay, was not nearly private enough for what Kat had in mind.
“What do you want then?”
“I want your cock inside of me, now.”
Jamal felt like laughing. He didn’t go to bars to pick up on women, but here he was now, with this little hottie tucked against his chest telling him she wanted a good bang. He’d seen her the moment she’d entered the bar, a Fly–Girl with a J–Lo booty.
He smoothed his fingers along the hem of her skirt, barely touching the silken brown skin covering thick, juicy thighs. Her legs jetted a mile to the floor. Her calves and feet were encased in tall, black leather boots, tipped with heels high enough to make any man with testosterone beg for mercy.
Dressed as she was, she could have stepped off the set of any Puff Daddy video, though none of those models were as luscious as this babe. The details of her face were obscured by the low lighting and haze of smoke enshrouding the place, but he could tell enough to know her beauty matched her exquisite body.
Jamal moved his hand lower, until he felt her tremble before him, her knees becoming jelly as he eased her legs apart with a subtle hint of pressure between her thighs. The honey whimpered slightly, lolling her head back against his chest, allowing him the pleasure of her fragrance.
She smelled sweetly exotic. Definitely enticing. It wasn’t a scent procured in any store or produced by any brand name perfume. Her lingering aroma was purely her own, feminine and inviting.
Glancing around the packed dance floor, Jamal’s gaze came to rest upon Kent as he gyrated his hips against some skinny broad in the center of the room. Outkast was pumping through the speakers now.
Jamal dipped his hand beneath the material of the woman’s skirt, his fingers encouraged further with each of her breathy moans. Easing aside the narrow strip of cloth covering her treasure, he parted her lips and dipped two knuckles deep into her oh–so–tight pussy.
Womanizing Kent, who had poked fun of his manhood, hadn’t managed to score the way he had, still bothered by being caught with a hard–on earlier. But it wasn’t merely the drive to prove himself a studly man that spurred the slow rhythm of his fingers as he moved in and out of the woman in his arms.
There was something about her that had drawn him from across the room. Maybe it was the wide–eyed stare she’d had when she’d first entered the bar, or the I’d–like–to–eat–you–for–dessert look she’d tossed him during that brief moment when she’d glanced his way. A siren call for sure; he’d been helpless against it.
In the dark room no one noticed how he pressed his fingers into her wet, accepting flesh. Using his thumb, Jamal found the bead of her clit and rubbed against it. The hottie went limp in his arms, sagging against him. He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her curvy body against his, and took the weight of a firm breast into his palm, tweaking the hard crest with his fingers.
“You want it now, huh?” he whispered, bending his head so he could nibble upon the tender skin just below her ear. She shuddered, then slanted her head for him to further explore her skin with his tongue. Nuzzling his face into her straightened locks of hair, he slowed the in and out of his fingers to long sensual movements.
His effort at seduction was rewarded.
“Please…Please…Please…” Her begging whimpered chant was driving him crazy. A little more of this and he’d cum in his pants. Jamal shook his head, finding his behavior hard to believe. Foolish. He’d never done this before, but something about her had him press on.
“In the club?” He moved his thumb to her clit and circled twice. “Reach behind you and undo my pants.”
Kat couldn’t have stopped her hands if she tried. They moved behind her, like steel to a magnet, finding the large bulge straining his pants. She cupped him in her palms, the damn fabric preventing her from feeling what she wanted so badly to touch.
She flicked her fingernail against the rough teeth of his zipper, the jagged edge abrasive against her skin. In the momentary sting of pain, reason penetrated Kat’s lust miasma, his suggestion ringing loud and clear in her ears. Her blood roared through her veins.
She wanted sex and pretty badly, but she’d never been one for public displays of affection. She certainly wasn’t brash enough to actually have sex while everyone there could watch, had they the mind to.
She stalled her hands’ progress, though not an easy feat. Where was the shy girl, she wondered briefly, taking on her new role so completely?
“Perhaps we ought to take this to…” Her voice trailed off. To where? She hadn’t thought her plan through. Once decided, she’d rushed to the bar afraid if given too much thought she’d change her mind. Now she realized the error, too late, and too horny. She should’ve secured a hotel room nearby to ensure once she’d lured a man to her lair, she could enjoy him thoroughly. Her mind searched for answers. His car? The bathroom? The back alley?
The back alley. Surely there would be some boxes or something to offer a bit of privacy from the street front. Besides, the thought of a cold brick wall against her back and the heat of his body before her sounded like an exciting turn–on.
“Come with me,” she demanded, wiggling his hand free from her sex, moisture following his slow withdraw, knowing too, that given too much time to think she’d dart for the door. Alone. Shifting her hips to lower the skirt back into place, she grabbed his hand, slick with her juices, and pulled him after her.
He willingly fell into step beside her.
The bartender gave a knowing smile as she darted past, a man in tow, then shifted his head to the door that read EXIT like he knew
