Yours for the Night (35 page)

“I’m down on my knees, Dax. He’s longer than my hand, and when I wrap my fingers around him, they don’t overlap.”

He pictured her stroking, felt her touch on his cock, his balls tightening. A groan rumbled across the phone.

“He likes that,” she said. “He’s hard already.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” The male voice was tinny with the slight distance to Noelle’s earphone. “Listening to you tell your boyfriend all about it makes me fucking crazy.”

It made Dax nuts, too. He pumped faster, twisting his wrist, stroking from base to tip until a bead of pre-come oozed from his slit. He palmed his crown and coated his dick.

“Pour some lube on him,” Dax demanded. “I want him real slippery for you.”

He wanted to hear it.

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, laughter threaded through her voice.

“Holy shit,” the guy muttered, groaning again. “This is fucking kinky, sweetheart, and I love it.”

Dax liked the term of endearment rather than a curse. Noelle deserved respect. She was more exceptional than her client could ever grasp. He visualized it all behind his closed lids, as if he were there with the light musk of semen permeating the air. Grabbing the lube, he drizzled a small amount over his cock. She was stroking his dick, crooning to him.

“Tell me how you like his cock,” he whispered to her. Her breath came faster, light puffs in the mouthpiece. “He’s so smooth. His balls are shaved, and they feel so good in my hand. When I squeeze like this, he makes all these sexy sounds.”

Dax heard them, a low growl, a rumble in the throat, soft words in a deep voice, shit, fuck, baby.

“Reach up and pinch his nipples.”

A harsh gasp, a sharp exhale, then a hiss. “Bitch.”

In this case, it was a term of endearment.

223

Tripleplay

“He likes that a lot. He just flopped flat on the bed, with his feet on the floor while I work him.”

Dax imitated the position and pinched his own nipple. She was so perfect. He should have thought of paying a woman to do this years ago. Then again, he wouldn’t have found Noelle. Right time, right woman. Providence.

“Tell me how it makes you feel,” he urged. He needed her emotions as much as anything.

“Powerful. He’s putty in my hands, his flesh is all mine. I can make him do anything.”

The cock’s owner grunted, refuting her, then in almost the same moment, he cursed, groaned. She did own him.

“I love cock, Dax, the way it feels, all that smooth flesh marred only by the veins along it, how hard it feels yet how utterly soft against my palm, how it pulses, the way it changes color, almost purple right there”—pause, a shocked male gasp; she must have done something extraordinary—“his crown all covered in his own come. My mouth waters . . .” Her voice finally trailed off. His head was going to explode.

“Suck him,” he whispered, the devil in her ear. The warm, wet sound of it filled his mind. Her lips were on him, the way they’d been in the car, pulling, sucking, teasing, biting.

“Give him the phone.”

She moaned, a hollow sound, her mouth full. “Uh-uh.”

“Yes. I want him to tell me.”

She suckled, slurped; it drove him wild, but he needed more. “I want him to describe how it feels. I want you to know how much he loves it, baby. Do it now.”

She let out a low moan, swallowed, then the sexy sounds ceased. “Yes, Dax.”

The breathy quality of her voice, need lacing her words, tied him in knots. The phone crackled and rustled, her fingers fumbling over the mouthpiece.

“Man, you two are fucking nuts,” the guy said once he had her earphone in.

“I fucking love it. Christ, if I had a woman like her, I wouldn’t need to pay.”

He didn’t say his name; Dax didn’t ask. But he totally agreed with the sentiment. With a woman like Noelle, a man would never need anyone else. Ever.

“Tell her to suck you.”

224

Tripleplay

“He says get busy sucking me, baby.” The guy emphasized the line with a dirty laugh.

“How does she feel?” Dax needed to know.

“Fucking good. Really hard on the tip until I feel like my fucking head will blow.”

Dax shared the sensation. He didn’t know what this was called, whether it was voyeurism or something completely new and undefined. Whatever it was, her lips sucked him just as she sucked this nameless, faceless stranger. His eyes closed, the touch on his cock was hers, not his own, the ache in his balls was destined for her mouth.

“More.” He could barely manage the word.

“Oh fuck. She’s taken me so damn deep down her throat.” The groan was gut-deep. He panted, swore, and beneath it all, Dax detected her moans and sighs.

“Christ, I wanna fuck her. Christ, she’s so fucking good. How can she do that to a man? How can she take my dick so far? God, my nuts are full. It almost fucking hurts.” He cried out. “Oh fuck, oh shit, she pinched my fucking nipple.”

Dax felt the white-hot streak of pain himself, and his cock became impossibly hard in his fist. “Come in her mouth.”

On the other end, in the heaven between her lips, the guy choked, sobbed, begged. “Oh man, her lips, her mouth, her teeth, all those little bites. It’s like she can’t get enough of me, like she’s devouring me.” Then he shouted. Dax exploded. He emptied himself and gave it all to her. He shot high into the night, became one with a man he didn’t know, and together they fucked Noelle’s mouth.

He’d never come harder, better, longer. It was more than double the pleasure. It was life-altering. She wasn’t even there, and he knew he’d finally found that precious something he’d searched so long for. A woman who was so sexual, so open, so uninhibited, so in love with sex itself she would never stop surprising him. She was undoubtedly the perfect match for his appetite, a woman he couldn’t tire of, a lady who wouldn’t eventually look upon him with disgust.

He willed her to call him when she was done. He needed one more thing from her tonight. Just one thing, and he would be utterly replete.

225

Tripleplay

CHUCK, HER CLIENT, INSISTED ON GOING DOWN ON HER, GIVING her an orgasm, making sure she was satisfied. As if it were his duty, when her pleasure was really not a prerequisite.

Noelle could have done without the orgasm. She’d wanted to snatch the Bluetooth out of Chuck’s ear. Dax was gone when she finally regained possession. Damn.

She left the hotel giddy, as if she’d downed three glasses of bubbly. Champagne always made her light-headed, but this time it was Dax’s voice dizzying her on the other end of the phone. He was her alcohol. This was the fourth date she’d gone on since she’d met him, and it had come to the point where calling him before, during, or after was more important than the date or the client. His voice was the adrenaline shot, the drug in her veins. She needed that breathless, heart-racing, pulse-pounding kick that only he gave her. But tonight, it had been above and beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Was she really that good? Sure she knew how to make men come. But listening to Charles Winstead IV, king of a North Da kotan manure empire, extolling her cocksucking virtues over the phone . . . it had done something to her. Set her free. Pushed her to never-before-reached heights. She wanted Dax to know what she was capable of, as if she were sucking him right through the phone. Swallowing him. His unique, sexy, spicy scent had filled her head. Chuck was merely a conduit.

In the back of the cab, she rattled off the address, dizzy with anticipation. Excitement thrummed in the pit of her stomach. Like being sixteen years old, waiting for a phone call asking her to babysit, her hand in the air right over the receiver so her mom couldn’t get to it before she did. Ah, then the sweet caress of his voice and the fear: Would he look at her differently tonight, see her as a woman, touch her?

What if Dax didn’t answer the door? What if he answered, then closed it in her face? What if he dragged her in and fucked the hell out of her? God, she just wanted to see him. Honest, she’d be satisfied with that. His voice on the phone—he couldn’t know what that had done to her. Even now, she was wet and close to the edge. So close that she sighed and parted her legs, catching the cabby’s eyes in the mirror. Maybe she could tease Dax with a story of how she’d masturbated in the backseat on the way over. Then he wouldn’t throw her out. 226

Tripleplay

This was lust and infatuation. Part of the high was the uncertainty, the giddiness, the ups, the downs, and everything in between. Her fingers itched to punch his number into her cell. But what if he told her not to come over? God, she loved this manic feeling. She was alive with it, every nerve sensitized, stretched, on edge. You couldn’t get this from sex alone. No, you had to have the emotion, too.

The cab pulled to a stop at the gate. His home was a freaking seaside estate, but the driveway gate was just for show. She’d discovered that morning a couple of weeks ago that the wooden gate beside the brick column wasn’t locked. Climbing out, she gave the cabby a bill and a smile. “Could you wait please?”

It would be embarrassing if Dax turned her away and she was stuck. He was standing in the open doorway as she climbed his steps, silhouetted against the wall of windows over the ocean. Not a single light burned. She couldn’t see his eyes, yet intensity sizzled off him. She reached him. Snagging her with one hand at her nape, his fingers curled into her hair. She had to rise up on her toes to touch her lips to his mouth. That first kiss was electric. His lips taking hers, his tongue invading and conquering, stealing her thoughts, her soul. He smelled so good, she wanted to melt into him, and he tasted all minty and sweet. Hard muscles melded to hers, as if she were becoming a part of him. And she was completely taken. He let her go. She licked his taste from her lips.

“You taste like him.”

Her heart stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too damn hot for words.” His eyes, deep, dark pools of blue, glittered in what little light they grabbed from the moon. “I needed that.”

“Needed what?” As much as she’d wanted the sight, touch, and scent of him, she had to have the words, too.

“You. Here. Tonight. After you’d done him. That kiss.”

She wanted to go in, push him to the floor, take him, fuck him. Instead, she backed away. “Thank you,” she whispered. He’d given her everything. Anything more, in this time and place, would be too much. She wanted to savor each separate moment rather than immerse herself in sensory overload. She’d have it all next time.

“Good night.”

He didn’t ask her to stay. He understood her emotions precisely at that 227

Tripleplay

moment, as if the same need to relish, the same intensity rocked his world, too. She backed down the steps one at a time, her fingers to her lips. “Call Isabel when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.”

It was a tease. She loved it. She turned, gathered her coat around her, and ran back to the cab as if it were her Cinderella pumpkin and he was the prince who would be driven to find her by her shoe.

His gaze tracked her the whole way.

God, he was perfect.

SHE WAS SO DAMN PERFECT. HE’D BEEN CALLED A PERVERT FOR

RECEIVING his pleasure by watching women he cared for make love to other men. He’d been told he needed a psychiatrist, but for him seeing and hearing was as exciting as doing. Especially since he’d had Noelle. He could feel what her client experienced, a tactile journey. Most men would call him a crazy SOB for failing to drag her inside and fuck her, for achieving orgasm with his own hand earlier in the evening while some stranger drove him nuts with how well she sucked cock.

Yet he couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal than what she’d given him.

Drinking in the sights and sounds of a woman’s pleasure—it couldn’t be appreciated in the same way if you were part of the action. You overlooked the subtle nuances. You lost your concentration. You’d miss the kick of validation knowing another man could borrow but not own what you had. Of course he had his moments of doubt that she belonged to him. Until she stood on his doorstep. He’d tasted it in her kiss. She wanted to be shared as much as he wanted to share her. He imagined endless scenarios. Some he’d finish by taking her, others he’d simply enjoy the glisten of pleasure on her body. A woman’s orgasm was a sight to behold.