“What girls?” I narrow my eyes.
“You. Plannin’ to get extra dirty with you. Breakin’ you into my kinda kink slow. Are you worried I’m too kinky for you?”
“Not likely.”
“Good to know,” he says.
“Like, kinky sex in the kitchen? With food ‘n stuff?”
“That’s one possibility,” he says, looking deep in thought.
“And sex toys? Bondage?” I ask.
He smiles wide. “Yeah. That’s fun, too.”
“I’m down,” I tell him. “Take me to your lair, cuff me to the ‘frigerator, and do me there. Have at me while you feed me pineapple pizza.”
He laughs. “That’s a shade too kinky.”
I laugh harder.
“You’re cute when you’re loaded, baby.”
“I’m happy,” I tell him with a big smile.
“Good. My goal is to keep those dimples on your cheeks.”
“My goal? To get your dick hard every day.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep,” I reply.
“Relationship goals are good to have,” he says and parks the car.
Oh. We’re here.
I unbuckle my belt.
He comes around and as I’m hopping down, he grabs my ass. “You wait for me to open your door unless I’m dropping you at a curb, which is probably only happening when you go to work.”
“Okay. If I don’t, you’ll grab my butt like this?”
He looks down at me with a dark expression that has my heart pumping a little faster. “You the type who plans to be naughty to get my attention?”
“Mayyybe. If it’s something you like, of course… I wanna make your cock hard, not your life hard.”
He moves me sideways, closes the door and then puts me against the door.
Oh. What?
“And I want you to mess up my lipstick, not my mascara.”
He smiles. “What if I wanna mess up both?”
“You said you didn’t wanna make me cry.”
“I don’t. I have other ways of messing up your mascara, Violet.”
I purse my lips, deep in thought.
“You’ll have to give me a demonstration, I think.”
His hand slides up inside my dress, slipping into the back of my panties.
I’m wearing a black dress tonight. A sexy one that he bought me on that first shopping trip. With silver strappy shoes, also bought by him.
“Oh!” I gasp, surprised. There’s no one here, but this feels very naughty. I decide to tell him so.
“Mm,” he kisses my throat and leans into me and I feel the evidence of how the naughtiness has affected him.
“Killer’s awake,” I muse.
“Mm hm.”
“Are there any cameras down here?”
“Not in this corner.”
“You said underground garages have cameras everywhere.”
“Not this corner. Trust me?”
I bite my lip and reach for his erection.
We’re sandwiched between his SUV and a concrete wall. If anyone comes in, I’m pretty sure we’ll hear them before they see us. And we’re well-camouflaged.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He’s got a condom. Oh wow. We’re actually going to have sex in the underground parking garage. My eyes boing halfway out of their sockets. And it’s a good thing I’m drunk and riding the high of the past two days because I am so down for this.
A minute later, he’s gloved and fucking me against his car door. I’m not touching the ground; my legs are wrapped around him, and I’m trying to be quiet, using his shoulder to muffle my sounds, because a) This is hot, b) He feels good, c) I get louder when I’m tipsy during sex d) He’s rubbing my clit while he fucks me against the side of his car and f) What’s not hot about that?
Oh, I forgot e. Whatever.
I come, crying into his throat.
He coos at me, “Yeah, baby, fuck, you like that?”
“Oh yeah, I do,” I tell him and clamp tighter around him. He lets go of my clit and pounds his hips against mine. He does it so hard, I feel the side of his car buckle under the pressure.
Oh my God. We’re denting his expensive SUV.
Right as he roars out an orgasm, which sort of echoes in here, I hear a car coming.
“Eek,” I squeak and try to shrink into nothing.
He sets me on my feet, rights the back of my dress, and pulls the condom off, ties it in a knot, and sticks it into his pocket. He zips his pants and grabs my hand.
“Next up, we mess up that mascara. Upstairs, though,” he whispers.
“Oh. Okey dokey. I think we broke the car.”
“We’ll get a new one,” he says with a wink and I laugh.
He’s got sparkle in his eyes when we reach the elevator. As I reach to press the button, I catch my reflection in the mirrored finish and my cheeks are bright pink, my eyes are definitely showing that I’m tipsy, but I look happy. He looks happy, too.
I press that button as an older couple, dressed to the nines, comes in and greets us.
“Killian, hello there. How are you doing?” The older gentleman asks.
His wife smiles at me.
“Hello Arthur. Mrs. Ramsay. How are you both doing tonight?”