shut from the thumping of the speakers, a bass vibration worked its way through the walls and filtered into her.
Mr. Gorgeous moved his hands to her back, turning her toward the wall, and urging her forward. But she stepped from his grasp. This was her game and she meant to play it as she chose. She set the rules. The pace.
“Not so fast, Bad Boy,” she said, hitching her hip to the side and acting like she’d often written her heroines. Trying not to be Kat but the character she’d created, she smoothed her palm up his abdomen feeling each rippling contour beneath the silk of his button–up shirt. He sucked a breath between his teeth that further incited her desire.
Staring at the man’s handsome face, purely masculine but definitely beautiful, she saw dark eyes the color of midnight. They gleamed like a queen bed draped in black satin sheets, beneath a pair of thick, but well trimmed, brows. His dark brown skin reflected against the distant streetlight, showing how recently he’d shaved his head.
“Back up,” she urged, using a slight push on his chest.
He complied.
“Put your hands above your head.” She smoothed her hands up each of his arms, pulling his muscular biceps with her until she had his arms pushed up. His elbows bent, he intertwined his fingers behind his head, groaning as she shimmied up his body.
She leaned in close, inhaling the lingering scent of the club and the freshness of Ivory—splashed with the subtle hint of cologne. Needing to stand on tiptoes despite the extra four inches, she placed her elbows on his shoulder and framed his face with her forearms. She stroked her curious hands over his sleek head, enjoying his smooth and warm skin beneath her fingertips.
“I like your head,” she commented when he pressed his full lips to the curve of her outstretched neck.
“Oh yeah? Which one?”
She laughed. This guy was in a hurry and that suited her just fine. No time to chicken out. She eased away from him, allowing her hands to slide effortlessly down his well–defined chest. Her fingers came to rest on the buckle of the black leather belt holding his slacks in place. Releasing the spike from the hole, she then found the single button at the top of his fly. Bulging and straining beneath the fine twill of his pants, she could feel his erection, solid and pulsing, eager for lack of restraint.
A smooth swish of jagged zipper teeth and he was left confined only by a pair of thin cotton boxers with an easy elastic waist. Kat touched his flat stomach and felt him quiver, heard him suck in a breath. Her nails scraped over his skin, swirling through the silken dark pubic hairs that plunged from his belly button to the base of his cock.
“So which head do I like? Well, I don’t know yet do I; I haven’t felt them both.” Finding previously untapped courage, she slid her fingers beneath the band of elastic and bent her knees, drawing down his boxers as she crouched before him. The spikes on her heels clicked against the cement.
There, in the fake shades of neon signs and the soft glow of the distant streets’ overhead lighting, his dark cock sprung free. A bubbling of excitement swept through Kat’s body as she slid her hand down the rigid shaft, measuring all ten rock–hard inches.
“Impressive,” she mumbled, because there was nothing else she could say when a dick as glorious and large as his was inches from her face and making her pussy hungry. Damn, she couldn’t wait for him to ease open her lips and fuck her brains out.
“You know what they say,” he replied, his voice sounding a little strained.
She laughed. Yeah, she knew black men had big cocks, but while the limited amount she’d known in the past had been well endowed enough to please her, none had been hung like his. “No. What do they say?”
“That it’s not the size of the boat but the motion of the ocean.”
She laughed again. He’s funny and fine. Yummy! His answer was not what she’d been expecting. Winding her fingers around him, she wasn’t surprised they didn’t meet. Hell no, he was too damn thick for that. Famous for writing about it, she knew just what to do. Twisting in a languid pace, she slid her hand to his base, feeling the size of his balls brush against the heel of her hand. Oh, yeah, those will feel great slapping against me.
“Really? Is that what they say?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She licked the satin tip of his plum–shaped head, tasting the ball of moisture that had formed there. His natural lubricant. She didn’t need it. She was wet.
Chapter 3
Jamal shut his eyes and slanted his face toward the sky, fighting damn hard to maintain control. The fine–ass hottie swirled her tongue around the swollen ridge of his head. He couldn’t breathe. He gasped, air hissing between his teeth.
Opening his eyes, he lowered his gaze to the top of her head, bent level with his crotch. Her expressive brandy eyes glanced up at him, a smile faltered on her lips just before she went to work. A talent for sure, she held up his dick and licked down the underside until she reached his balls.
She licked there, too. Jamal felt his knees tremble as her tongue traveled across his sac, her gift with her mouth almost unbearable. Then, she retraced her damp path to his head and nibbled, all the while her soft hands rested on each of his thighs.
“Mmhmm, that’s what they say,” Jamal muttered. He could hardly form a rational thought, but knew he wanted to be inside her. He tilted his hips toward her. “Can…you…take it?”
Tempting fate. Much more of this and he’d be shooting his load down her throat before he even got to encase himself fully in her. He wanted to sex her, but with her mouth titillating his flesh like a champ, he’d take it any way he could get it. Right now between her lips.
“Can you?” she asked. Again she didn’t wait for his response. She opened wide and closed around him, taking him so deep into her mouth he could feel his cock press against her tonsils. A wickedly slow tempo she set, in and out.
With his fingers tightening into her silken hair, Jamal glared at her tiny purse praying it was big enough to hold at least one damn condom. He hadn’t packed one around in his wallet for years, since events like this weren’t an everyday occurrence. Had hell frozen over? He planned booty–calls, not back alley screws with strangers. She’s not a stranger anymore, he thought, watching her head bob up and down, taking him deeper with each of her strokes. Pulling him along until he felt the building climax.
She tightened her cheeks and sucked. A hand slipped from his thigh to his sac. Her palm gave a tender massage as she gave him the blow of a lifetime. She took him deeper, still, until he felt his shaft pressing against the roof of her mouth.
“Damn, girl,” he groaned out.
The honey paused, releasing him from her mouth slightly. Before he could complain, she’d taken him in again, finding a rhythm equal to the dance music pulsating through the brick walls of The Night Kitty.
It wasn’t more than a few minutes before he felt the telltale buck of his impending orgasm. He pushed it away. No way in hell he was going to get his nut off before he’d made her scream with pleasure.
Jamal let out a long, low moan as he placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her mouth off his erection. She whimpered slightly, releasing him completely. He heard her gulp for air, then she rose.
She
