I didn’t bother closing the curtains. No one could see in anyway, not that anyone was out on the beach at this hour. Besides, I liked the way the moonlight shimmered on her skin.
At the edge of the bed, I dropped down on my knees, slid the heels off her feet, and shoved them aside. Her skirt was short, showing of her legs, toned from all the dancing she did. I took a moment to rake my fingertips up her outer calf and over her knee.
I took her hand and stood, pulling her along with me so we were standing in the darkened room, facing each other. I cupped her face softly and captured her lips while dragging my fingers through the long strands of her hair. Letting my fingers continue down, I grasped the hem of her lacy top. With one tug, the top slid up and she lifted her arms so I could pull it off her completely. The silky feel of the tank top beneath it slid under my hands like water, and I pulled one of the little straps down and nipped at her shoulder.
Roxie made a sound of pleasure and tipped her head back, so I repeated the action. Her neck was exposed with her position and I couldn’t help but look at the area where the fingerprints marred her creamy skin.
That motherfucker tried to choke her. He put his filthy hands around her neck and squeezed.
Rage intruded on the moment, making my body tense. Roxie sensed it and started to shift her body, to close in on herself.
I grasped her hip and held her in place to trail a line of feather-light kisses across the bruised flesh, pouring all that rage into the pleasure I wanted her to feel.
Her body relaxed again, and I smiled against her throat.
In seconds, I had the silky tank off and was reaching for the zipper on the back of her skirt. I couldn’t wait to feel her body against mine, to see her completely bare.
As the zipper began to slide down, Roxie pulled back slightly, placing her hands on my chest, silently telling me to stop.
“Adam?” she asked, her voice unsure.
“What, sweetheart?” Oh shit, she’s changed her mind. How the fuck am I going to keep my hands off her?
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
21
Roxie
He said he loved me.
Even after everything, he said he loved me.
I desperately wanted to believe him, especially because I’d fallen for him too. It was something I could barely say to myself, and thank God he didn’t seem to want me to say it back, at least not right away.
Loving someone was the scariest thing a person could do. It made you vulnerable in ways I never knew it could. And he was right. I needed him to prove the words. I needed him to show me. Maybe then I would be able to say them back.
I could barely think about that now, though. I could scarcely think at all. Kissing Adam was thrilling. My entire body raced with awareness when he touched me, when his tongue brushed against mine.
Little tingles of excitement echoed through my limbs as my body relaxed and readied itself for more. The ache in my center spread lower, down into my panties, where it seemed my heartbeat could be felt strongest. I throbbed for him. I wanted him to touch me there so badly that my inner muscles kept clenching in anticipation.
Adam moved like an expert, the way he kissed, the way he caressed, the way he knew exactly how to remove my clothes…
He was experienced. Far more experienced than I.
When I announced I needed to tell him something, the tension in the room seemed to skyrocket. Adam withdrew his fingers from the zipper at my waist and ran a hand over the top of his head.
“Tell me.” His voice was strained, and I knew stopping like that was difficult for him, but I was suddenly so intensely nervous. What if I didn’t please him?
“You’re…” I began, not really sure how to say it. “You…”
He nodded, encouraging me.
I sighed. “There’s only been one before you. Before tonight.”
Please let him get my meaning.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “You’ve only been with one guy before?”
I sank my teeth into my lower lip and nodded.
He grinned like he’d won the lottery.
Didn’t he understand this wasn’t good news? “My experience is very limited. I might not be what you want.”
Rich, rumbly laughter filled the space and overcame the sound of the ocean outside. “You’re exactly what I want,” he murmured. Adam traced a finger over the lacey edge of my bra. “There’s no need to be nervous with me, Roxie. I’m going to take care of you.”
“But what about you?” I worried.
He took my hand and moved it to his bulging crotch, rubbing it up and down the rigid length. “I think it’s safe to say I’m taken care of.”
I reached for the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one, moving just a little bit faster with each one. When his shirt was open, I noticed it was still tucked into the dress pants he was wearing. I wanted to see his chest. I wanted to touch it all. I pushed my hands beneath the fabric. I felt like I was opening a present on Christmas morning, and I was too impatient to take my time.
Adam pulled the tails of his shirt out of his waistband and shrugged the shirt onto the floor. His bronzed skin tone glowed in the light of the moon, and I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest, right above his heart.
Adam sighed and his fingers threaded into my hair, holding my lips hostage on his skin. My tongue slid out and across his smooth chest, dipping low until it brushed over his hardened nipple. I sucked it into my mouth and rolled it around with my tongue.
At the same time, I reached for the buckle on his pants. All the clothes between us seemed like such a barrier. I had his pants undone by the time he untangled his hands from my hair. I pulled back and he started kissing me again, at the same time unzipping the skirt and pushing it down to my ankles.
When I was standing before him in only my bra and panties, he stepped back, his eyes gazing over my body hungrily. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I looked away, blushing, but he put a finger beneath my chin and lifted my face. “Don’t do that,” he murmured. “Don’t look away. I mean it.”
I grasped his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. It seemed ironic for me to be bashful all of the sudden. I mean, I was a stripper. Of course, getting naked in front of strangers was a lot different than baring it all in front of someone I truly cared about.
At the club, I was stripping, showing my skin, and basically just doing a job. It didn’t really matter that I had very little actual sexual experience. Men didn’t care. They only wanted to see me shake it. Turns out I was pretty good at that.