Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [13]
“Ready for this?” he asked.
Her pussy flooded with possibility. “For what?”
“The world of A&R,” he said smoothly.
“Oh, of course,” she replied with an airy quickness, at once relieved and disappointed to be pulled back from the sexual precipice she’d been hovering upon.
“Get a good night’s sleep.”
Fat chance of that. “All right.”
His voice went lower. “And I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured as Damon took her key card from her hand, their fingers brushing, and unlocked her door.
“Good night,” he said softly.
Her eyes remained glued to his. “Good night.”
And then she was stepping inside and the door was closing and he was gone, and she had the distinct feeling that she’d ended up in the wrong room. Or he had. Either way, they should have gone into one of the two rooms together and fucked like animals.
She let out a heavy breath and reminded herself once more why that couldn’t happen.
Sex on the job was bad enough. Sex on the job with someone you were lying to was…freaking heinous.
And yet as she took off her clothes and slipped into a white cotton cami and fresh panties—because her others were soaked—desire still held her in its grip. And as she stood before the wide bathroom mirror washing her face and brushing her teeth, she grew keenly aware of her nipples pointing through her top, hard and sensitive, and of her cunt, swollen with want inside her bikini panties. And as she climbed beneath the fancy bedcoverings, she found herself lost in a mishmash of images: visions of her and Damon Andros, bodies naked and intertwined.
This was awful. There seemed no good answer. Having sex with him was a moral impossibility. But not having it, especially now that she sensed he’d be amenable to the idea, seemed insane, not to mention torturous. How had this even happened? Sure, she’d wanted to be someone new and different here—but not different like this. She could scarcely fathom the effect one mere evening in the man’s presence had had on her.
But then Brenna remembered how you got through tough things. You didn’t let yourself obsess over the big picture—you handled one moment, one problem, at a time. And the problem right now was getting to sleep, having a peaceful night.
So she bit her lip and let her hand ease under the covers, over her mound. She cupped herself, relieved to have any sensation there at all—finally. She wished, suddenly, that she’d been brave enough to buy a vibrator, and smart enough to travel with it. She wanted something inside her, deep.
She swirled two fingers across the engorged nub at the front of her pussy and let the pleasure melt through her. God—it was like having walked across the hot, barren desert and finally finding sweet water. Now she wanted to gulp it, so she pressed her fingers harder, lifted her pelvis against them.
She sighed and licked her upper lip and needed more. Yet she didn’t have more, so instead she turned to fantasy. She imagined if Damon could see her right now. She imagined him knowing he’d done this to her, gotten her this hot. She wondered if there was any way he could know just how hot she was right now, and she envisioned him lying in bed on the other side of the wall that separated them, picturing her this way.
But, damn it, she still needed more, some other kind of stimulation. All of Las Vegas lay outside this room, sin upon sin upon sin taking place. How many people were doing something naughty right now within one short mile of her? Thousands, she would bet. So to lay in her bed rubbing herself somehow seemed…too simple, too drab, not befitting the atmosphere.
Strangely restless, she rose from the bed without a plan. Wandering the spacious room, she found herself standing before the minibar. Normally, she never even opened the minibar, outraged by the price gouging, but that was immaterial now. Peeking inside, she spied a row of tropical-flavored wine coolers. She pulled one out and twisted off the top, then took a long swallow, letting the alcohol warm her chest. Almost any physical sensation felt good at the moment, like a step