Recklessly (6 page)

“It’s clean. We’re lax about the public ones, but we always keep our own spotless, especially at this one. I’ve done a few shifts here.” It
did
look exquisite, but he wasn’t necessarily discerning; he had also had sex in tons of bathrooms.

“I believe you,” he said, caging her against the door with his arms. Even though hooking up on the same night he met a woman was a common occurrence, there was something different about Lana: the way she exuded a kind of coolness, a comfort within herself. It made him want her that much more.

She folded one of her legs around his and pulled him into a kiss as Wes reached under her top for her breast. With a gentle tug, the soft, tender flesh was in his palm. “Condom?” she asked.

“Wallet.”

Lana reached into his back pocket and yanked it out. A sly smile crossed her lips when she spotted the gold tinfoil poking out from behind his credit cards. “When did you put this in here? You know you aren’t supposed to keep them in here.” She held it up between her pointer and middle fingers.

“Tonight.”

“Oh. So, you came out with a plan, huh?”

“More like a hope and a wish.” Wes lifted his shirt, watching Lana’s eyes widen at the sliver of abs that showed as she unbuckled his belt and threw it to the floor. Damn, he hoped she’d stay this aggressive. The throbbing in his jeans was relentless, and just when he thought he had reached the maximum level of arousal he could withstand before he came without her even touching him sexually, she grabbed his other hand and cupped her other breast with it.

Lana switched their positions and pressed him against the door. She unfastened the button of his jeans and shoved both hands down into his boxers, grabbing hold of him. Sensitive from the pent-up excitement, Wes had to curl his toes in his sneakers to keep from shouting, and a huge breath rushed out of his throat.

“I guess you
weren’t
overcompensating…” He smirked after she said it and she laughed. “Don’t be fooled though; I’ve never been intimidated by a big dick, Wes.”

Damn, this chick’s mouth. It was hot, literally and figuratively, and she’d called his dick big. Wins all around. She stroked him gently with both hands, teasing with a fast then slow motion. But just as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the door, a thought bloomed in his mind. The same-night hookup with a stranger was tricky because he never knew where their minds were with regard to what the hookup meant. For him, it certainly introduced the possibility of future encounters and friendship. But nothing more.

“Lana, you’re cool with
this
being what it is, right? What it is right now?”

She laughed heartily before smirking. “You can save the ‘It’s Just Sex, Okay?’ talk, Wes. Considering that my hands are down your pants
in a restroom
, and you don’t even know my last name, I think it’s fair to say we won’t be picking out fine china tomorrow.”

Wes laughed and winced from the sensation of sparks beneath his skin from her grip on him. “Well, since you brought it up, what’s your last name?” he asked.

“Langston,” she said cheerily, as if they were meeting on a sidewalk in front of a bookstore for the first time, and definitely not like she was holding his dick.

“Well, Ms. Lana
Langston
,” Wes said, grinning, “Please take your panties off.”

She refused to let the corners of her mouth shift up, but he caught the amusement flitting in her eyes. He
had
said “please.” No one would ever accuse Wesley Elliott of not being polite. Lana moved backward until she reached the counter, then she jumped to sit. She was quiet, smiling at him now, apparently testing his ability to ignore his hard-on. His erection was bordering on painful, but it was just the agony that came with the anticipation of pleasure, and still far less traumatic than imagining himself jerking it in the shower later.

But Wes was a big fan of the high he got from foreplay anyway, and the sense of madness and tunnel vision leading up to that moment when he finally got to put it in. The only other thing in the entire world as great as that moment was making it through a barrel of a wave in Teahupo’o, Tahiti.

              “No,” she said, smiling as she drew her knees apart just slightly. “
You
take them off.” She had barely closed her mouth on her last word before he was standing between her knees, and Lana released a breathy giggle when his hands traced her outer thighs beneath her skirt. She lifted her butt when his fingers reached her hips.

              Wes smirked. “Funny.” There weren’t any panties.

              “I took them off in the stall,” she admitted after a gasp when he squeezed her inner thighs; they were soft, smooth and warm against his palms, and everything he had imagined them to be. “They’re in my purse.”

              “I found something I like a whole lot more, anyway,” he said. Moaning softly, she clutched his shoulders when he slid two of his fingers into her and stroked her clit with his thumb. Lana grabbed the back of his head and smashed his mouth to hers as she rocked against his fingers. She clawed the nape of his neck, moaning with nearly every breath, before she threw her head back.

He loved this part.

When Lana tilted her head up and clutched the front of his shirt, he watched her with rapt intrigue. Her eyelashes fluttered before she shut her eyes completely, her body bucking and writhing. His shirt tightened more over his chest from her grip before she released a loud sigh of ecstasy that bounced along the restroom’s walls, and the sound sent tingles rushing over his skin.

He couldn’t drop his boxers fast enough when she smiled at him as he tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth and unfurled it down his shaft. “Turn around,” he whispered. With a mischievous smile, Lana hopped off the countertop and leaned toward the mirror, her gaze holding his in the reflection, wanton anticipation filling her eyes. She had a natural confidence in her sexuality that he was so incredibly attracted to.

“Arch your back a little more…” he said in another whisper as he angled himself to slip inside her. And the position was perfect once she adjusted her hips, too. Wes held her low on the waist and thrust into her, their eyes still pinned to the other’s reflection, with waves of pleasure sweeping through his body as she clenched around him. Lana echoed his momentum, equaling the rhythm by rocking her hips back against him, and a fiery sensation filled his pelvis when she dug her nails into his hamstring. Wes mashed his lips to her neck, and he shoved one of his hands down between her legs. Crying out, she sank just slightly when her knees wobbled—he loved it when they forgot to keep standing up. Lana braced her hands on the edge of the counter as the shivers of her orgasm ravaged her body.

“Fuck me on the wall, Wes,” she said in a harsh breath suddenly. Wes stepped back and swiveled her over to the space adjacent the counter. Lana yanked Wes’ shirt over his head before she steered his fingers where she wanted them, working them against her body, and as he watched her, he was almost completely under the control of his own waiting release. He trapped her wrists on the wall above her head with one hand, never breaking eye contact with her, and rubbed the spot on his own until she came again.

Gripping just beneath her butt, he lifted Lana until her knees were on his forearms then he pushed into her again. And with each thrust, they both expelled heavy groans, and she drew her fingers slowly and softly across his back at first, but her nails were soon sinking in. She licked his neck before pulling his face to hers, and a band of tension, a warning of his impending climax, tightened his loins. Wes pressed all the way into her body, felt her fall against the wall some more as he ground his hips against hers. Her lip was wedged between his two, as their mouths moved in a feverish kiss that almost stung as much as the clawing at his shoulder blades. He slid his tongue around her mouth, and every inch he tasted, every touch of her tongue, every moan she breathed out, fed the buildup within him, He soon released a rough grunt into her shoulder as his orgasm took over.

With equally loud exhales, they both laughed when he set her feet back down on the floor. And after he tossed the used condom and they freshened up, Wes dropped a light kiss on her lips. “Awesome night, Miss Lana Langston.”

“You’re pretty damn fun, Deuce.” Lana reciprocated the kiss before she pivoted toward the mirror and continued primping. Her skin was still flushed—yeah, he liked that he’d caused it—but he thought she looked fine, even sexier now, maybe. He was already reminiscing on a few minutes ago. He wished he had gotten more time to really experience
all
of her. Kiss and taste all the parts of her body that had remained covered, the parts he was
still
fantasizing about. This was the thing about quickies he didn’t like. Sex was so much better naked.

“You want me to wait for you?” he asked. “Do you need a ride home?”

“No…my friends are still here…”

“Cool. Have a good night, Lana,” he said, reaching for the door. “Call me, okay?” He meant that.

“Wes?” she said, just as he pulled it open
.
Lana put her hands on her hips and scrunched her nose. “Dude, I’m hungry. You want to hit the drive-thru or something? Totally in need of a foodie call right now.” Wes stared at her in silence before he laughed. He definitely hadn’t expected that offer. Most of the time he was in these circumstances, the woman would try to make immediate, concrete plans to see him again.

              “What?” A puzzled stare shaped her expression. “Is it because I said ‘foodie call’?”

              “No, it’s nothing,” he said, still chuckling.

“Oh, yeah, I’m
totally famished
now because of you,” she said in a sarcastic tone with an eye roll as she gripped her stomach. And after a quick drive to Carl’s Jr., they were back at
Vices,
sitting in the cargo area of his SUV with the rear door raised, their legs dangling, and eating and watching drunken people navigate the sidewalk to street height difference.

              As she blended a mix of honey mustard and barbeque sauce with her finger, Lana asked, “Should you be eating these? Are you going to the U.S. Open? Is that what you’re training for?” She swirled one of the chicken nuggets they were splitting in the sauce.

              Wes swiveled his legs back inside the cargo area. “Training for other stuff, but I’ll be there,
mostly
as a spectator, except for one event. Manager booked Abel and me for a few appearances that week though, too. Why? You were planning to criticize my surfing there?” he joked.

              “No. I don’t think I’m going; don’t worry. I’ll have to wait for another chance to see you come in second place,” she teased back with a wink. “Speaking of prizes, how’d I do with my music selection tonight?”

              Wes nodded. “You won just by playing The Cure. Great band and ‘Lovesong’ is a classic.”

              “Yay! It was either that or ‘Pictures of You.’ So, good!” After a proud grin, she added, “Me and my roomies have this tradition where every first Sunday of the month, we go see this Cure tribute cover band in San Diego called The Remedy. They dress up like them and everything. You’d like them if you love the band.”

              “Oh my God. I’ll take Abel and not tell him where we’re going. He
hates
80’s and 90’s music that isn’t rap.”

“He might change his mind. It’s supposed to be exactly like The Cure would do it. Complete with a huge stage and lights…it’s crazy. I’m a big concertgoer. If it weren’t for rent and bills, I’d zigzag all over this country following my favorite musicians’ tours. You know who puts on a really good show
every
time? Madonna. Just so friggin’ amazing.” Lana shifted to her haunches between his splayed legs and then clasped his wrists. “What’s your favorite concert ever?” she asked, with excitement flowing through her voice.

“I don’t know about
ever
, but Kai White’s my best friend—”

“Yeah, yeah…I know all about your bromance with the rock star. I own a few of his CDs. No need to name drop,” she teased. But it was true; Wes’ best friend was a famous musician whom he had grown up with on the North Shore.

Wes chuckled. “…He flew a bunch of us out to Berlin for New Year’s for this sold-out David Guetta show, you know, that cool international DJ. It was a lot of fun. I had never been to Germany before…too cold for me, but really amazing for the short time.” Lana looked at him in the brief bit of silence and laughed. “What?” he asked.

“So, you usually talk music with your random hookups?”

              “Did you just refer to yourself as a random hookup?”

Lana shot a pointed stare and a deep smirk at him. “Is that not what you are to me and I am to you? Why sugarcoat?”

“Touché…but, actually, yeah….I do talk music. Everyone loves music, so it’s a great way to transition from any awkwardness. People make
this
weird when it doesn’t need to be. It’s, like, the minute you have sex with somebody, it breaks some seal that says you can’t have a normal conversation
ever
again ‘cause you’ve seen them naked.”

Lana raked his hair back. “But you didn’t see me naked, Wes.” Her voice, all sultry, low and inviting, fell into the space between them, teasing at his never-quite-dormant arousal.

“Fair enough. Point taken.” Wes touched her side and stroked her stomach through her top. “But yeah, talking music…and playing
Scrabble…
naked.”

Lana drew her brows together. “Okay…wait…I got a raw deal here. That was the other option? How do I make this happen…?”

“Easy. The operative word being
‘naked’
…” He cocked his lips into a half-smile as he took a firm grip on both of her thighs, his thumbs easing under the hem of her skirt. Wes’ excitement intensified quickly, but they both had equally full homes.
No round two.

“Lan!” The two of them turned toward the voice and found Rick shrinking back from the group of guys he was walking with. He rerouted his steps toward Wes’ SUV, all the while lancing Wes with a piercing stare. Wes only smiled back; he’d already pissed further than Rick had, so there were no hard feelings on his end. “I’ve been looking for you. Time to go.”