Page 66 of Crash into me
We’re tucked away, still accompanied by the music that Foster is using as a rhythm to move my hips against his already rock-hard cock.
I think of stopping, but I need to live a little. Besides, in this dark room, no one can see anything. I rock back and forth against him, my dress already riding up past my hips.
“Eyes forward,” he orders Ryder, and a laugh sounds from the other end of the darkened room.
“Wouldn’t want them to be anywhere else,” he says to Kate.
Then, Foster peels my dress off, exposing my breasts and body to him. I look over to find Kate already undressed, already throwing her head back in euphoria.
My nerve endings are electric, and I can taste the want in his eyes.
I tip forward, and his cock bounces from his jeans. My body is already ready for him, so as I slide down, a heated sensation rises in both of us.
I ride him, using the music as my guide as I plant my hands on his chest and bounce. I feel so free, rolling my head back and feeling so bad doing something naughty like this.
As I moan, he trails his hands from my neck, between my breasts, and down, down, down. I nearly can’t handle when his thumb vibrates my clit, lighting every nerve ending.
It isn’t long before everyone is a moaning, panting mess. The room feels thick with sex. Filled to the brim with passion and euphoria as we climax.
Warren stumbles in just as we all get dressed. “Guys, oh shit. I’m so sorry!”
“What?” Foster stiffens, his relaxed tone gone.
“I didn’t know these booths were … for that.” He laughs, with Brett cackling beside him. Do they know? “We were dancing, and a couple was telling us about the VIP rooms here, and apparently the bottle girls will have sex with you!” He gestures to us; we all look incredibly innocent. “Thankfully nothing crazy happened.”
We share a glance, a blush tinging mine and Kate’s cheeks. “That’s so funny!” I fake a laugh. Little do they know I just experienced something transforming.
Not that this will be regular, but sex with Foster in random places will be.
* * *
We makeour own little dance party in the VIP room, filling up on tequila and Jell-O syringes. I’ve never in my life partied this hard. As the room spins, I sit, needing to collect myself.
“You good baby?” Foster asks, passing me a bubbly cup of coke.
I sip it slowly. “I drank a little too much,” I admit. My skin feels clammy, and my head is twirling.
Giselle comes back with the check; I don’t even want to guess how much it is. We went way too hard on the drinks. Warren slides his card to her.
She comes back, a frown on her face. “Declined.”
“Try this one,” he offers, handing her another. But she returns with a shake of her head. Brett hands her his, which works.
“That’s it,” Warren breathes, placing his head in his hands “They’ve cut me off.”
Brett pulls him close. “Screw them.”
I place my hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
He looks up, saying, “It’s not your fault.”
With the check cleared, we all dance out of the club and breathe in the night air. Everyone is laughing and having a good time, but I don’t miss the hurt that lays like a pool of water in Warren’s emerald eyes.
28
Foster throws his arm around me, walking us towards the studio. The club was … insane, and he’s been quiet ever since.
I turn to him. “Are you mad at me about last night?” I ask. “Did I cheat on you?” I’m still hungover, and only bits and pieces of the VIP room come to my memory.