The VIP Room (14 page)

Read The VIP Room Online

Authors: Lauren Landish,Emilia Winters,Sarah Brooks,Alexa Wilder,Layla Wilcox,Kira Ward,Terra Wolf,Crystal Kaswell,Lily Marie

BOOK: The VIP Room
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Chapter 3

I
was trembling
as Tristan helped me into his car. I didn’t know much about cars, but judging by its sleek exterior and luxurious interior, I would bet that my mystery man was not only drop dead gorgeous but rather wealthy. It was a no-brainer why he was at
Valoir
.

We left the club shortly after I downed my drink. The alcohol gave me a pleasant buzz and calmed my nerves. I’d even remembered to text Larene and let her know that I’d found my Hot Stranger.

“This is nice,” I commented, admiring the inside of the car when Tristan came around to the driver’s side. I peered at him from the corner of my eye, still having a hard time believing that he was real. He was much too beautiful to be real and I kept expecting my alarm to blare at any moment, waking me from this dream. “Is it new?”

“Yes. I’ve been having a fun time breaking her in,” he told me with a wink as he pulled into traffic. I felt my cheeks flush. I tried to tell myself it was from the alcohol, but I knew all too well that it was because this man triggered a response in me that I’d never experienced before. “Do you know a lot about cars?”

I shook my head. “No, but my brother did. He knew all about them. I remember him working in our garage on his Corvette a lot and going to car shows. He tried to drag me with him all the time, but I always managed to get out of it.”

A small sting of sadness pierced me whenever I thought about my brother. And if Tristan noticed the past tense I used in speaking about him, he didn’t comment on it. It drove home the situation I’d willingly placed myself in. This man wasn’t my boyfriend. He didn’t care about me, except for what I could do for him. It went both ways though. He was my Hot Stranger, my ‘Just One Night.’ And I was okay with that. I was using him in the same way.

So, instead of being hurt by his silence, I switched tactics. Alcohol made me bold. Smiling, I crossed my legs, letting my dress ride up even more. I watched his eyes flash to the bare expanse of my thigh before he met my gaze. His lips quirked knowingly and I pretended not to be embarrassed by how shameless I was acting.

“Have you named her yet?” I asked.

“Named who?” He finally dragged his eyes back to the road. A strange feminine thrill went through me, knowing that I could distract such a powerful man.

“Your car.”

Tristan chuckled. “This isn’t the kind of car that you name.”

“Every car should be named,” I teased. “My old car was named Baby Girl. She was this run down little Civic.”

“‘Baby Girl’ is an endearment. Not a name.”

I raised my brow, enjoying our banter. “Have you ever called any woman Baby Girl?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.” He flashed me a smile. Then he reached over and settled his warm hand on my exposed thigh. Goosebumps erupted over the flesh of my arms and a pulse of awareness throbbed between my thighs. “Fine. You win,” he murmured.

“What do I win?”

A dark, sensual smile full of promise. “You’ll find out soon.”

“You strike me as the kind of man who doesn’t like to lose,” I said, my voice a little breathless.

“That’s because I never do. But for you, I think I can make an exception.”

I didn’t really notice when we pulled up to what I assumed was his apartment building. It wasn’t really a building, so much as a fortress. The valet took his car when we pulled up, but I was too aroused to focus. The light strokes he’d gifted my thigh in the car were enough to send my mind in a daze.

“Mr. Blackwell,” the doorman greeted. Tristan nodded at him with a smile but kept his hand on the small of my back as he guided me towards a set of elevators. If his hand strayed only a little farther down, it would be on the swell of my ass. I found that I didn’t mind. I liked this easy intimacy. It had been far too long since I’d been touched like this.

As we passed through the main foyer of the building, I saw the curious stares. I saw the way employees and residents alike took in my dress, my shoes, my face. But the wetness between my thighs, the way my heart skipped a beat every time Tristan swiped his thumb over the dimples on my back, the trembling of my overheated body was enough to make me forget their judgments. It was a big city. I’d never see these people again. Besides, even if I did, I liked to think my face was unrecognizable, with all the make-up Larene had used earlier this evening.

And honestly, I was just impressed I could walk in these stripper heels without making a fool of myself. Especially with alcohol in me.

There were at least eight elevators available on the ground floor, although I wasn’t surprised. In an expensive building like this, residents didn’t want to wait. What I was surprised at was Tristan bypassing the main elevators and heading towards a private door at the end of the hallway. He swiped his keycard across the reader and entered. Another elevator. A
private
elevator. I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

He pulled me inside when the doors slid open and pushed me back against the steel brushed wall.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his green eyes melting me where I stood as the elevator began to ascend. He leaned in close to brush a kiss across my jawline. A moan of surprise and desire erupted from my throat. “I saw your hair first. I found myself wondering what it would feel like, how soft it would be.”

Even if he used this line on all the women he picked up, I didn’t care. Of course, I would like to think it was just for me, but Tristan had done this before. It was obvious. Or maybe I was still jaded from Ryan. I didn’t know.

“It wasn’t the dress?” I asked him, tilting my head back so he could get better access to my neck. He sucked on the delicate skin, making my breath hitch.

I could feel his smirk before I saw it. He lifted his head. “It might’ve been the dress too.”

I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with him. I should’ve been intimidated by his looks, his obvious wealth, our situation. But I wasn’t, which prompted me to say, “It’s not even mine.”

A wide grin stole over his face. A shiver of anticipation raced its way down my spine as I stroked my fingers over the material of his suit. “You’re something different, aren’t you?” he murmured, lowering his head towards mine.

I wasn’t prepared for how his kiss would make me feel. It felt like little bursts of fire erupted between us, burning brightly. My eyes closed, breathing in his scent, experiencing the warmth of his lips. They were firm and completely in control.

He’s a spider
, I thought with my half-functioning brain.
And I’m helplessly caught
.

The ache between my thighs was becoming unbearable. I wanted him now,
needed
him with a ferocity that I hadn’t felt even with my previous boyfriends. The attraction I felt for him went beyond reason, but I didn’t want to question it. I wanted to give into it. I wanted this feeling to last forever, this sweet torment between passion and insanity.

The elevator dinged open but he didn’t break away. If anything, he pressed further into me and then hissed in pleasure when his erection brushed my stomach. We stumbled out and I lifted my head away to take in my surroundings, afraid I would fall since my knees were beginning to buckle. I expected to see a hallway, but to my surprise, the elevator led straight into his apartment. Although, apartment might not be the best word for it. It was the penthouse.

Who was this man?

Momentarily distracted, I scanned the space with wide eyes. Tristan took the opportunity to suck on my earlobe, his hot breath making me shiver even as I catalogued his place, a work habit. The living room alone had to be at least 2,000 square feet, I estimated, and it was done up in the modern style, all monochromatic colors with sleek furnishings. It was beautiful, from the no-nonsense black corner sofa that I knew cost upwards of five thousand dollars, to the simple art decor in varying shades of navy blue and greys. I wondered briefly which firm got the privilege of decorating this place.

Tristan’s hands ran up the exposed flesh of my thighs and I refocused my attention to him. “This is a really nice home,” I murmured, staring at his lips. His expression shifted just a tad, a slight down pulling of his lips. I was confused by his reaction, but he didn’t let me dwell on it.

“Thank you,” he said, his hands coming around my back, seeking the zipper so he could help shimmy me out of my dress. “Now, let’s get you out of this since it’s apparently not yours.” I started to smile at his teasing tone but he fused our lips together once again, denying me words.

As he suckled on my tongue, I felt cool air hit my warm, sensitive flesh. Briefly, I pulled away to help him peel back the tight, shimmery material and it hit the floor with a small
whoosh
. I shivered when his warm palms caressed the newly bared expanse of my stomach and waist. They were deliciously rough, masculine. I barely suppressed a mewing sound as he teased the edge of my panties with his thumbs, delving just under the lace before retreating. Teasing me beyond reason.

Tristan’s spicy scent hit me as I leaned forward to trace his jawline and neck with my lips, nibbling his skin even as his stubble scraped my own. He groaned lowly. I felt the sound vibrate through me and an answering gush of wetness surged between my thighs. Feminine pride swelled up in me. I wanted him to make those sounds all night long.

Grasping at the lapels of his grey suit, I tugged them back so he could shrug out of his jacket. After fumbling with the buttons of his crisp white shirt, I finally pushed the material off his strong body, where it pooled on the floor. My eyes immediately wandered over the planes of his magnificent chest, bronzed and sculpted. He had a six-pack and those ‘v’ muscles underneath his hip bones that drove me crazy. A light smattering of dark hair drew my eye and I followed its trail into the confines of his pants, my mouth watering at the thought of what lay underneath.

Even through the pleasant buzz of alcohol, I remembered that his suit probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined.

“Maybe we should hang that up?” I murmured, my voice husky and unsure.

Tristan bit out a laugh, his dark green eyes looking like they were black with desire. “That’s the last thing on my mind right now, sweetheart.” He unsnapped my black lacy bra with a flick of his fingers. When my breasts sprang free to his greedy gaze, he immediately ducked his head and laved one nipple with his tongue.

I groaned, my head falling forward to rest on the tops of his strong shoulders. Pure pleasure rushed through me, making my toes tingle and my pussy throb with anxious desire. He plucked and played with my other nipple, driving me into a frenzy.

“Now,” I gasped out. I didn’t think I could take any more of his teasing. I’d never felt this need before, like I would die if he wasn’t inside me in the next few moments. I groped for his belt buckle, fumbling as the heat between my legs grew unbearable.

Tristan chuckled when he finally lifted his head from my breasts. His gaze raked down my body, his stare as tangible as a touch. He took in my flushed, rosy nipples, my black panties, and my sky high heels. When he was done looking his fill, he snagged my hand away from his pants, flashing me a grin that made my heart stutter.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he tsked.

My eyes narrowed at his teasing. Two could play at this game. I tugged my hand from his strong grip and reached down to stroke his hard length, which tented the front of his black slacks. His smile died immediately and I watched as his jaw clenched in pleasure. Thick and long, his erection had my knees shaking just imagining how it would feel inside me.

“Where’s the bedroom?” I asked, my tone on the cusp of pleading.

With a growl, he yanked my hand away and pushed me against the wall next to the elevator. “No, I want you here.
Right now
.” With that, Tristan spun me around so my backside faced him. I could only see him from my peripheral vision when I turned my face to the side, my hot cheek pressed against the coolness of the wall.

I moaned when he tugged down my panties. They dropped towards the floor, tangling around my heels.

“How wet are you for me, sweetheart?” he murmured into my ear, his hand coming around my front to caress the outer lips of my pussy. His light touch on my sensitive flesh almost made me sob with need. He was cruel to tease me. “Tell me, and I’ll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

Gasping, not caring about my dignity or pride, I cried out, “
Dripping
, Tristan.
Please, please, please
. I need you now!”

As though he needed proof, his fingers found a trail of wetness on my inner thigh. He traced it to the source and I moaned when a thick finger entered my tight sheath, stretching me deliciously. He cursed lowly before dropping a kiss on the back of my neck, as if pleased. A moment later, I heard him release his belt and lower his zipper. A crinkling sound reached my ears as he slipped on a condom.

A moment later, I thrust back my ass with a groan when I felt him tease my wet lips with the head of his warm cock.

I was chanting, “Please, please, please.” Beyond begging. I didn’t care anymore. All I knew was that I needed him inside me or else I’d go
crazy
.

He gave me what I wanted. With a single, sharp thrust, he stretched me until every inch of his thick length was deep inside me.


Fuck
,” he growled behind me. “You’re so tight, Noelle.”

I couldn’t respond. After that first bit of pain that signaled my year long dry spell, I was in heaven. I could feel him everywhere; he filled me completely and perfectly. I could feel every inch of him pressed intimately against my sensitive inner walls. And when he started thrusting, quick and powerfully, I couldn’t contain my screams. I’d never been particularly loud with my past boyfriends, but I’d never felt anything so
right
as Tristan pounding into me over and over again.

His hands gripped my hips tightly, using them as leverage to push into me more forcefully. My eyes closed, lost in pleasure. In a daze, I felt the soft fabric of Tristan’s slacks brushing against the backs of my thighs every time he slammed inside me. Even in my heels, I tried to raise myself on my tippy-toes so I could feel more of him. It was delicious madness, driving me insane.

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