Hard Time (Hard as Nails #1) (13 page)

Eventually, however, we settle and focus only on one another. It’s further confirmation that I’m doing the right thing by giving Street a chance. He grounds me in a way nothing else can, not even Dee.

We eat dinner over easy casual conversation, while he enjoys a beer and I sip on an expensive glass of red wine. I don’t bother asking him how he’s managed to pay for this affair; what man wants his date to ask that? It’s too late to turn back, and all I can do is enjoy the effort he’s made to give me all this.

“If you had asked me a week ago if I saw myself sitting in this restaurant with you, I would have told you that you were crazy,” I say after taking a sip of wine.

“I am crazy.” He smiles and folds his hands together with his elbows resting on the table—a total faux pas, but an easily forgivable one. “You’re crazy, too. That’s why you’re here.”

“I’d love to say you’re wrong—”

“But you can’t.” He reaches for his beer and drains it. “Would you like more wine?”

“No thanks, but feel free to have another beer.”

“I’m good. Plus, as good as the food and the company is, I don’t want to be here too much longer.”

“Oh?” I lean across the table and run my fingers across his hand, trying my best to seduce him, even though I know I don’t have to work too hard at it. “Are you in a rush for something?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. Depends what we’re rushing for.”

He twists his head in either direction, making sure nobody is close by, and waits for a server to pass with a tray, before leaning toward me. “Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about it since the second you woke up this morning.”

I move even closer so we’re a mere inch apart from each other, with the full intent of teasing him because whatever he’s planning is going to have to wait until the check is paid. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Street.”

“I’m talking about that wetness seeping into your panties.”

I throw my head back and laugh aloud. The illusion of the dream date is shattered as the real Street comes barreling back. And I’m not even mad about it.

“It
is
you.” I shake my head with a wide grin. “I knew you couldn’t hide behind those perfectly ironed clothes for too long.”

“Yeah. It’s definitely still me, but I’ll do my best to fulfill every one of your fantasies tonight.”

“I’m not sure we’ll have that much time. Dee works the night shift, so I need to be home.”

“Then I’ll have to make good use of whatever time we do have.”

I start to speak, but notice the server standing at the table right behind me, so I lean in close and whisper, “Just so you know, what happened in my car to the contrary, I’m not into one pump chumps.” It’s a joke, and thank God he gets it.

“That’s not what’s going to happen.”

“Prove it.”

He digs into his pocket and passes me a hotel key. It’s all black with the words of a fancy boutique hotel I’ve heard of etched into the card with a matte finish.

I stare at it, amazed once again.

He really is going all out.

“Street, you’re spending far too much. I can’t—“

“I’ve got money, Katie. Not a lot, but enough to rent my place. To give you this. It’s worth it to me, I promise.”

I hesitate, staring at him, once again aware that I’m verging on stomping on his pride. If he wants to spend his money on this, I shouldn’t argue. And truth be told, I’m flattered that he actually thinks enough of me to do it.

I cover the card with my palm and slide it to my end of the table.

“I hear the rooms have four poster beds. So what do you say?” he questions, but he already knows the answer. “I might only have you for a few hours, but like I told you before, if you’ll have me, then I’ll take anything I can get.”

“What do I say?”

“That’s the question.”

“I say…” I raise my hand in the air with a pointed finger, so I steal the attention of the server passing by our table. “Check please.”

Chapter Sixteen

Katie

The card swipes through the thin crack of the lock.

The indicator light flashes green, and there’s an almost quiet pumping of hydraulics between the door and the frame.

Street’s hand reaches for the doorknob, and the door is pushed open.

He looks back at me with hungry, wanting eyes and waves his hand toward the hotel room, beckoning for me to take the lead.

I do as commanded and step into the dark room with a stunning view of the city, but it’s too dark inside to see much of anything.

Street’s fingers flick at the light switch, and I’m blinded in an instant, but as my eyes adjust to the light, I’m left stunned at the beauty of the room. There are luxurious sheets on the huge four poster bed, and a bottle of champagne beside a box of chocolates on the nightstand.

I walk toward the windows. “This is beautiful,” I say, taking in the sights of the glowing skyline.

“Not as beautiful as you. It doesn’t even compare.”

For Street being a dangerous man, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt as safe as I do right now, and that’s saying a lot. Because for a woman like me—full of trust issues and paranoia about the men around me—it takes a lot to feel safe with my back turned to whomever stands behind me.

Especially an ex-con who has admitted to doing terrible things.

But that’s not the man I know. That is the man I believe he
thinks
he knows, but often times, we are the worst judges of our own character. God knows, I’ve been down on myself before.

I have Dee to believe in me. Just like I hope Riley will believe in me.

Street needs someone too.

And at that moment, he has me.

* * *

Street

My eyes trail the swell of Katie’s ass in the tight black dress, but they don’t stay there for long. I’m a changed man, or something equally drastic. Instead of fixating on the sexual parts of her body—and in some ways, every part of her body is sexualized to me—my eyes focus instead on the beauty. They focus on the beautiful way her dark brown hair lays flat against her black dress. They focus on the beautiful way she’s lost in this new exciting world she’s just stepped into.

It’s new for me too. I’m completely out of my element, and I can tell she feels the same. While I don’t deserve this luxury, this girl deserves the world, and I wish I could give it to her for longer than one night at a time.

But one night will have to do.

Once upon a time, I was obsessed with the overwhelming need to touch her, and have her touch me. Over the last week, I’ve felt that obsession grow into something far more sustainable. Instead of mere touching, I now crave more.

I crave every part of her.

Her hair.

Her lips.

Her skin.

Her pussy.

Her heart.

Her soul.

* * *

Katie

I can feel Street’s eyes burning holes through the back of my neck, and I don’t mind. It takes me back to the prison, when neither of us had to say a word to know there was an attraction there, always brewing in the background. It had been a chemical combustion that neither of us saw coming, and nothing we could escape from. It brought us to this moment, and now there’s no turning back.

I turn to face him and lightly touch the straps of my dress, teasing him, but we both know the game is over. He’s got me right where he wants me, and he’s right where I need him.

“So tell me, Mr. Street,” I say and give him a light nod of my head. “What did you bring me all the way out here for?”

His eyebrows raise into his hairline. “Are we roleplaying? Is that your fantasy?”

“That depends,” I say and begin a slow, seductive strut toward him until my palm falls upon his shoulder as I pass him. “What part would you be willing to play?”

His eyes roll to the side, following me as I spin behind him and caress his back. Then I lower my hand down the smooth fabric of his shirt, until my fingers flirt with the belt buckle of his slacks.

Street’s head falls back against my shoulder, and his eyes are closed.

“I’ll play any role you want, Princess.”

I grin.

It’s exactly what I’d hoped he would say.

* * *

Street

I’m powerless as Katie teases me. I’m not in a position I’m used to being in. Feeling vulnerable isn’t in my skill set. Tonight I’m willing to play along.

Her palm grazes over my crotch, causing my cock to jump in place in the restrained space of my pants.

“It seems as if we have a problem,” she coos in my ear, and her breath is hot, instantly strengthening my hard on.

I swallow nervously and take a mental note of my vulnerable state.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“What’s the problem?”

Her teeth nibble against the sensitive flesh of my ear, sending an uncontrollable shiver down my spine as I lean back into her touch. She’s playing my part, and I’m playing hers and it’s a mind-numbing exercise.

“The problem,” she purrs, “is you’re still wearing clothes.”

I pull away from her grip and spin to face her. I whisk my hands behind her and cup the cheeks of her ass, pulling her into me. There we go. This is how it’s supposed to be…

But she objects.

* * *

Katie

“No,” I stammer and push at his chest until he releases me. “You said we’re going to make all my dreams come true tonight. That you’d play any role I asked.”

“I did,” he says with a confused nod.

“Then tonight…” I reach for the black blazer over his chest and push the sleeves down his arm, until he’s left standing in a tightly fitted, white V-neck tee. The muscles in his arms bulge against the thin fabric, and a visible trail of sweat begins to form in his midsection, outlining his abs that are as hard as steel underneath. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

He grins a mischievous grin. It’s the kind of grin that could melt the most heat-resistant panties, and if I don’t hold it together, this night will soon spiral out of control.

“So what does that mean? You want to dominate me? Fuck me into submission?”

I take a measured step toward him and place my palms against his hips then up, slowly making my way up the sides of his chest, bunching and pushing his shirt one slow inch at a time until I reach his neck. “Yes.”

With a forceful push, his back is against the wall and his leg stumbles against a dressing table. The chrome desk lamp tumbles sideways, and falls against the table. The light bulb shatters, wrapping the hotel room in darkness once more. The only illumination comes from the city lights streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s enough for me to see what I need to see.

“And yes,” I say, answering both his questions.

I finish pulling his shirt over his head and drop it on the floor. He leans in to to kiss me, but I have other plans as I slowly lower myself, landing short kisses along each ridge of his abs until I’m on my knees, peering up at him.

His eyes are dark and stormy, filled with want, need and desire. I make sure he’s looking directly at me as I pop the waistband of his slacks and pull them to the floor. Then, I tug at his tight black boxer briefs and pull them down his thighs.

He’s enormous. Long and thick, with a vein that pulses strongly with his heartbeat.

I fist one hand around his throbbing cock and slowly begin to pump. When he closes he eyes and lets out a soft exhale, I take the opportunity to wrap my lips around him.

* * *

Street

I’ve had many blowjobs in my life, but something about this is different. I’m barely able to contain myself, or to keep myself standing with every lap of her tongue around my flesh.

“Fuck,” I cry out in a soft whisper and lower my hands to her hair, but I don’t tug at her locks like I’d normally do. I just sift my fingers through her hair as I stare out the windows at the city outside. I’m too afraid that if I look down, it’ll all be finished before we can even make our way to the bed.

In the end, I can’t fucking resist.

I look down and my knees grow weak. There’s nothing more beautiful than the lips of a woman wrapped around your manhood. And there’s nobody more beautiful in this world than this girl on her knees before me. The way the soft night light lands against her skin is an art form in itself.

It’s like one of those damn old movies that they showed on repeat in prison; I think they called them film noir? Whatever the hell the aesthetic was, that’s what I see when I look down. There’s not much contrast, and too much saturation. There’s soft shadows in all the right places, and this is just like a scene from a movie. Or a porno.

I cup her chin and lift, guiding her to her feet so I can plant a kiss against her wet lips, which are slick with spit and precum. I don’t even mind that I’m basically swallowing my own seed as my tongue laps against hers.