Chapter 27 Desiree Dixon

Reggae Music and the Backseat

I hang around with my dad until four, though truth be told, I’m a nervous wreck. My dad and I go out to lunch across the street at the Gridiron, which passes some of the time, and I have a margarita to calm my nerves.

I tell my dad I’m going out with some friends, and he’s strategizing ahead of this week’s game, so he nods absently as I head out. The plan was for me to work on some things for events back home while I was in his office today. I decided to stay all week since the Aces have back-to-back home games, and I’m working remotely. So far, it’s going well…but not well enough to say I’d keep my job if I decided to move here.

And damn…that great meeting with Erin followed by that conference room kiss both seem like pretty big flashing neon signs telling me I should really spend a lot of time thinking hard about what I want out of my future. Or, more specifically, where I want that future to take place.

Vegas is looking pretty damn attractive at the moment.

I head down to the front doors, and I spot Asher as he climbs into the back of an SUV. He sees me and waves me in, and I’m not sure if we’re being very covert, but I’m pretty sure my dad’s view looked out on the other side of the building.

I don’t know where we’re going, and I don’t care.

I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high, but the truth is that he wants this, I want this, and we’re about to go…well, somewhere to do it.

Will he take me back to his place? I have no idea, though in truth, I’m dying to see where Asher Nash lives.

But the reality is that we promised this was only going to happen one more time.

I don’t know if I can walk away knowing it’s the last time. And with the way he was looking at me, I don’t know if he can, either.

I rush over toward the SUV, and I peek into the backseat, where I find that there is a third row of seats in this car, and Asher is all the way in the back.

The driver apparently likes reggae music, and it’s blaring.

Asher’s hand is immediately on my knee when I take my seat beside him.

“To the Four Seasons?” the driver yells from the front over the music.

“Yeah,” Asher yells back, and he leans over and puts his lips on my neck. “I haven’t stopped thinking about what you taste like,” he murmurs. He trails his lips up toward mine, and he pulls back. “Or what you feel like.” His hand slides up from where it sits on my knee, and he keeps going when he gets to the bottom of my skirt.

My breath hitches as his hand moves up until his fingers brush the elastic edge of my panties.

“Jesus Christ, Des,” he murmurs. “You have no idea how badly I need this. Need you .”

I can’t even form words, but the truth is that I need this, too.

And since I can’t make myself sound coherent, I decide instead to show him.

We're far enough back that the driver won’t know what’s going on back here, especially not with the music blasting.

I reach over and take his face between my palms, and I press my lips to his. I push at the seam of his lips until he opens them, and our tongues swirl together in the back of this SUV as he slips his fingers beneath the band of my panties. I widen the position of my legs as he slides his finger into me, and he groans softly when he feels how wet I am.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling back from my mouth for a second before he presses his lips to mine again.

I thrust against his hand as he finger fucks me back here, and that’s when I decide to let go of where I’m holding his jaw between my hands.

I trail my hand down to his pants, and I run my hand along his rock-hard erection. It’s as hard as it was a few hours ago before we parted ways, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s gotten any relief from it since we walked out of that conference room earlier.

He thrusts his hips toward my hand, and I reach into his pants and straight for his boxers.

He moans as I make a fist around him, and the sudden urge to taste him rockets through me. I pull back and glance up at him, and he looks as needy as I feel as I pump his cock with my fist.

Before he can stop me, I lean down and suck him into my mouth. His finger slips out of me as I shift to blow him. I realize I’m in the back of someone else’s car, but I can’t seem to stop myself from doing what I’ve wanted to do for nearly four months.

I want to ride him, too, but that’ll come later. And so will I.

I suck him all the way to the back of my throat, and he rests his hands on the back of my head as I start to move him in and out of my mouth, my fist following along his shaft as I move. I stop to suck on the swollen head of his cock, and he thrusts his hips toward my mouth as I run my fist along his shaft some more.

He moves along with me, and I can tell he’s getting close by his moans. The music is loud, but he’s not exactly trying to hide it.

Something about that makes me suck harder, move faster, and give him everything I’ve got.

“I’m gonna come,” he grunts, and I let the warning spur me on rather than slow down.

I’m here all week. I realize we both promised this would be the last time, but we both know it won’t be.

If this ends up being nothing more than friends with benefits for a while, fine.

But I can’t imagine that this is a two-and-done for us. Not when we exude this much heat when we’re together.

“Now,” he says, squeezing my shoulder, and I don’t let up, signaling to him that I want this, I want him . I want him to give me every last drop.

“Fuck,” he groans, and he holds my head still as he thrusts into my mouth. Hot jets of come stream out of him, and I swallow around the huge cock bumping into my throat.

As the thrusts slow, he lets up on his grip on my head, and I slowly pull back, swirling my tongue around the head one more time as I suck him clean.

I sit up, wiping the sides of my mouth with my fingertips in a ladylike way, and he hunches back into his seat as he tucks his cock back into his pants.

He rests his head back onto the seat, and then he turns his head in my direction without lifting it, as if the mere task of lifting his head is too much for him to bear right now.

He shakes his head a little, and I kind of love the fact that I left him speechless.

He looks exhausted, worn, and sated. A rather arrogant look crosses my face as I lean back into my own seat, but he’s not letting me off so easily—not without getting me off, too.

He reaches back under my skirt and slips his finger right back inside me, and my body is warm, wet, and waiting for him. He shoves that finger up hard into me, hitting that place so few men before him have found before, and I twitch in my seat.

He leans over and drops his lips to my neck, and then I hear his voice, deep and hot, near my ear. “I want this pretty little pussy to come with my fingers first, then my mouth, then my cock.”

The mere words are nearly enough to check the first one off the list. He continues to drive his finger in, and it’s when he adds in a second one that I start to see stars.

“Oh, God,” I moan, and I reach around him to hold onto his neck as my body gives into the pleasure he’s giving me.

My legs snap together, and I bite down on his shoulder as I try my hardest to stay quiet. I fight through the orgasm as it rips through me, pulse after excruciating pulse of pleasure taking every last breath from me.

I’m panting when it finally passes through me, and he reaches up to touch his shoulder where I bit him.

In perfect timing, the car comes to a stop, and as I look out the window, I see we’re stopped in front of Mandalay Bay, where the Four Seasons has four floors managed separately from the hotel.

“We’re here,” he says softly. “Ready for my mouth?”

I press my lips to his, and when I pull back, I nod—even though I’m not. I have no way to prepare myself, and my legs are shaky as I turn toward him. “Let’s go.”

His mouth tips up in a smile as I get out of the car first, barely able to stand, and he follows me. He bids our driver—who I can’t seem to make eye contact with—goodbye, and we head inside. He must’ve already checked in on his phone because we bypass the front desk and head up to the thirty-ninth floor.

We walk into a corner suite with a panoramic view, and I’m sure it’s lovely, but I don’t even see it because his mouth is on me the second the door closes behind me.

He’s kissing me like a starved man, like he needs this, needs me , like we didn’t make each other come in the back of a car before we got here. He’s kissing me as if he’s making up for the time we lost over the last few months.

He’s kissing me like he never wants to stop, and I’m kissing him back like I never want him to. He pulls back to say, “I’ve been tempted to slip my tongue between your thighs every time I’ve seen you.” Every few words are punctuated with more kissing. “I can’t fight it anymore.”

God, I want him to. I want him to make me come with just his tongue.

“But first, the jersey,” he says. He walks over to me and fists each side by the chest, and he rips it clean in half. It hangs on me like a jacket, and he pushes it off my arms before he leans down and runs his tongue along my tits, stopping to suck one of my nipples into his mouth.

He backs away abruptly. “Take off the rest of your clothes,” he demands, and there’s something wickedly hot about the way he says that to me, so hot that I scramble to do exactly what he’s asking of me. I drop my skirt and underwear, and I kick off my shoes, too.

I lie back on the bed and wait for him to bury his face in my pussy, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he gets naked, too.

He lies on his back beside me. “Crawl over me,” he demands.

“What?” I ask, a little nervous to do what he’s asking.

“You heard me.”

I clear my throat as I sit up. “Crawl over you?”

“I’m going to suck on your cunt until you come, but I want you on top of my face. Now crawl over me and put your cunt on my mouth.”

My eyes widen as my pussy throbs with need at the mere thought of sitting on his face.

I scramble onto my knees, but instead of rushing to get into position, I carefully straddle his waist first. He groans as I drag my pussy up his torso, the ridges of his abdomen awakening my clit as need bursts through me. He reaches up to grab my tits in his hands, and he squeezes them roughly before he eases up, only to pinch both my nipples. He tweaks them, rubbing his thumbs back and forth, and that throb of need intensifies at the feeling.

I slowly continue to drag my pussy up his body, and he continues his assault on my nipples as I move. Once I’m poised over his mouth, he lets go.

“Touch your tits for me,” he says, and then his hands move to my hips, and he yanks me down over his mouth, his tongue moving immediately into my pussy.

“Oh fuck!” I yell out, the pleasure battering into me immediately as I continue to work my own nipples. Having two of my erogenous zones stimulated at the same time is fucking perfection, but when he brings one of his hands up so he can thumb my clit, I immediately fall apart.

I ride his face as my release whips through me, this one harder and stronger than the last one. I don’t even realize how hard I’m pinching my own nipples as the pleasure rockets through me, and tomorrow I’ll be achy and sore in the most delicious way.

But tonight…tonight’s all about alleviating the ache that built months ago and has only gotten stronger with every passing day until tonight.

It’s like he’s some expert in the subject of my body, and I think it’s because the two of us are so in sync. We fit. It’s instinctual. I just came on the way here, and not twenty minutes later, I came again. That’s never happened to me before, and I have to believe it’s because there’s something more at play here than an animalistic physical attraction.

He gently lifts me once my body starts to calm, and he lays me down beside him, wrapping an arm around my waist as he holds me close. One of his hands comes up to my breast, and I hear his voice soft and low near my ear.

“Fuck, Des,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking tempting. There’s no way this is only happening twice and never again. No fucking way.”

I couldn’t agree more.