Babel Novel
5
“Ahhh, Dominick.”
I wrapped her in my arms as she pounded her body over mine, her pussy trembling, her body shaking, drawing out my build until she completely emptied me, each shot filling the condom.
“Dammit, Kendall,” I whispered now that we’d both stilled, tasting the sweat on her mouth. “You really know how to ride a cock.”
Her laugh was light and honest. “You gave me a hell of a cock to ride.” She released a gritty sigh. “They’re not all built like yours.”
That earned her a smile.
She was certainly one of the most interesting women I’d been with. Quick with the words, exquisite to look at, a body that deserved to be fucking worshipped.
I rubbed my thumb across her bottom lip, cupping her cheek, my fingers in the back of her hair. “How does a shower sound?”
“Heavenly.”
I gazed at her mouth, picturing it around my cock, the feeling of her throat as it closed in around my shaft, sucking the tip like her pussy had just done. “Just so you know, there’s not going to be any sleep.” I pulled her lip down, looking at the size of her teeth, thinking of what she could do with them. “At least, not for a while.”
“You mean …” Her voice cut off as she glanced at my cock, seeing that I was already getting hard again. Her eyes were feral when they met mine. “Oh fuck.”Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.
THREE
KENDALL
S
hit, what time is it?
I pushed myself up from the bed, out of the cocoon of blanket and pillows I had buried myself in, and immediately covered my eyes from the sunlight seeping in from the blinds.
Ouch.
My hangover was front and center. I’d had far too much tequila last night, those skinny margaritas going down like water. If I’d only woken a half hour earlier, I could appreciate the deliciously perfect naked man lying beside me, reveling in every moment we’d shared together last night. Details I could still recall from the soreness in my body. But as I searched for the clock, one on Dominick’s side, it glowed a number that told me I was going to be extremely late for my meeting.
I climbed out of bed, hopping around the room with the balance of a newborn puppy, and tried to find my dress and shoes and purse-everything I’d worn to the hotel party. Each item had fallen in a different place on the floor the minute he carried me in here. Collecting my things in my arms, I brought them all into the bathroom. I slipped on my dress and tied my hair back with an elastic from my clutch, ensuring yesterday’s makeup wasn’t running down my cheeks before I rushed back to the bedroom.
Dominick was still asleep on his stomach. His arms stretched above his head, dark hair and tanned skin covering them, hints of a morning shadow on the unhidden parts of his cheek.
And then there was his ass.
Two yummy, hard hills that caused a rise in the blanket.
My God.
That man was all muscle and masculinity and sex.
Before last night, I had been positive unicorns like him only existed because of Photoshop.
But proof was directly in front of me.
And because I was an idiot, I didn’t have his last name, phone number, or any set plans to see him again.
But after what had gone down in this room-the way he made my body feel, the connection that exploded between us-I needed all of his information.
I just didn’t have time to wake him up and have that conversation.
I found a small pad of paper and pen on the dining table. As I jotted down my name and number and an apology for having to leave so fast, my skin flushed as I remembered what he had done to me on this wood.
I left the note on top of his pants and bolted down the hallway and into the elevator, ordering a ride-share that met me in front of the lobby only a minute after I arrived. Even at this early hour, the traffic was brutal, the driver having to navigate a few alternate routes just to avoid some of the heavier congestion.
At the sight of my apartment, I threw the backseat door open and stripped off my dress the moment I got inside. I adjusted my hair into a higher knot and clipped the fallen pieces to the top of my head, and then I stepped beneath the warm spray of the shower. I covered my loofah with my beach-scented body wash and scrubbed Dominick from my skin.
One-night stand. That certainly wasn’t a term I was familiar with.
I knew the word boyfriend.
Relationship.
Commitment, sacrifice, compromise.
But what had happened last evening-the lack of a last name, the horny minx I had turned into, wildly passionate sex with a total stranger, someone who had learned my body better than any man I’d ever dated-was a language I’d never spoken before.
Now, every time I moved, each inch tugging at the soreness inside, was a reminder.
I could only hope Dominick would keep the message I’d left for him, and we could do all of that again-maybe with food and more conversation next time.
I got out of the shower, wrapping a towel over my wet body, and grabbed the first dress I found hanging in my closet. It happened to be a black maxi that I paired with a cute set of flats and chunky earrings. Returning to the bathroom, I untwisted my hair, the natural waves falling across my shoulders and back, tamed enough that I didn’t have to pull it into a pony. I quickly added some mascara, lip gloss, and more blush to my already-flushed cheeks, and I was ready to go.
I had left my purse and keys on my bed and clasped both in my hands before I took off for the parking garage. Once I was inside my car with the music blasting, I hadn’t driven more than two blocks and had to slow down for traffic. In Boston, where I’d spent my entire life up until six weeks ago, I hadn’t owned a car and relied on public transportation, a quick and efficient method that got me everywhere I needed to go.
Los Angeles wasn’t that kind of city.
Miles could take an eternity.
This morning was no different.
I was ten minutes late and still hadn’t picked up coffee-a requirement set by my sister when she was scheduled to be anywhere before noon. As her personal assistant, I knew better than to show up empty-handed, and I also knew there was no negotiation to her rules.