Jessa James - Crave

But since her last assignment as an investigative reporter had involved discovering -- via telephone call -- what went on at slaughterhouses, she’d promised herself a few days off before starting something new. She worked hard, and deserved every bit of it.

The band started assembling onstage as he handed her another drink. They weren’t especially memorable, but the lead singer had bright green hair, pulled into spikes all over his head.

Smith started to bob his head in appreciation. She smiled. It was hard not to admire appreciation, especially when it was expressed by someone so damned good looking

“Here,” he said, holding his cup up to give a toast. “To new experiences and living every moment to the fullest.”

Her lips curled up as she tapped her cup to his, then took a sip. He really was playing with her, teasing her with his salute. One glance at him and she was certain that he’d perfected his moves long ago, the toast merely the beginning of it.

Then again, he wasn’t saying much. Maybe his shtick was being good looking and mysterious, then. He was no doubt used to girls nervously standing next to him, looking at him with wide eyes just as she’d done.

Maybe it was time that she took control, that she put the moves on him. She had a vague desire to wipe the smirk off his face. Who was to say she couldn’t do that with her mouth?

The band started playing, the lights dimming. It was as if it was meant to be.

Cam put her drink down and stepped up to him, looking him straight in the eye. He raised his brows, facing her as he set his cup down. Before she could hesitate or flinch, she reached out and grabbed the lapel of his jacket.

Gripping him hard, she pulled him down and kissed him.

The contact of his lips against her own was like lightning. The sensation crackled along her skin, sent a fission of pleasure down her spine. He seemed surprised by the kiss at first, but after a moment he kissed her back, threading his fingers into her hair.

The kiss was like fire, beginning small but growing to a roaring blaze in moments. She slid her arm around his waist and closed the gap between them, her toes curling in her boots.

He broke away to kiss her neck. She moaned, a combination of satisfaction and yearning. Her nails dug into the back of his neck. He growled low in his chest.

“You are quite a surprise, aren’t you?” he ground out.

She didn’t answer, just kissed him again, hard. Her tongue clashed with his, a war between them that they both enjoyed. When she pulled back and bit his lower lip, he growled again, his hands working down her body.

When his hands hit her ass, she worked up the nerve to step back, cocking her head.

“Do you want to… go somewhere?” she asked, enjoying the fact that she was the instigator.

“God, yes,” he said.

She bit her lip, trying not to grin. She looked at him under her lashes. Something about him screamed TAKE ME HOME. He was a perfect stranger, but she felt somehow that she could trust him.

“Good. My apartment is right down the street.”

“Lead the way,” he said, inclining his head.

Cam grabbed her clutch and wove through the crowd, out into the darkened street. The streetlights were out on the whole block, in fact in most of the neighborhood. It wasn’t exactly the greatest neighborhood, but she made do. Cam lived in a warehouse loft just down the street from here, so she was well aware of the neighborhood’s colorful reputation.

“Do we need to grab a car?” he asked as she made her way through the parking lot.

“Not really. I live two blocks from here,” she said, moving faster to keep from feeling awkward.

“You live here?” he asked, looking askance at the block as she led him down the street.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” she said. She eyed him in his punk rock garb. It seemed unlikely that such a big guy would have any problems walking alone at night.

“No, just curious.”

They turned the corner, and Cam’s apartment loomed.

“My apartment’s just right here,” she said, her nerves beginning to show when she dug her keys out.

She skipped up the half-dozen steps to her apartment, willing her hands not to shake as she unlocked the door. She felt his eyes all over her body as she got the door open.

She threw a glance over her shoulder as she let him into the loft, standing aside and locking the door behind him. It was one huge room, all the floors and walls cement, but she’d done her best to glam it up. There were soft rugs everywhere, a lovely L-shaped couch, a femininely decorated kitchen, and delicate Japanese screens dividing off her bedroom. A small office setup sat in one corner, and the bathroom in another.

“Nice,” he said, looking around. “It looks like you’ve done well for yourself.”

His accent made her shiver all over again. Surely he must know that the accent was a killer.

“It’s a work in progress,” she said, dropping her clutch and keys on a side table. “Do you want a drink?”

“I can think of things I want more,” he said, smirking as he reached out to snag her waist. He leaned down, seeking her mouth.

Cam gave in to him instantly, kissing him back. He pushed her back toward the bedroom, and she went willingly. She wanted him, if his being in her apartment weren’t clear enough.

She turned to part the screens of her bedroom, revealing a huge white bed. He followed, kissing her neck. She gasped, feeling herself grow wet. Her pussy clenched with need.

He unzipped the back of her dress with nimble fingers, taking his time. She took a breath, letting the dress drop to the floor. She was left bare except for a black lace thong.

She closed her eyes, hearing his intake of breath when he saw her like that.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he said, turning her back toward him.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, realizing just then that his eyes were the darkest shade of blue. He palmed both her breasts, weighing them in his hands.

She sucked in a breath and shivered at his touch, her nipples hardening. She reached out and started to undress him, peeling off his jacket.

He tugged his shirt over his head, muscles rippling. He was a work of art, all chiseled abs and straining biceps. His tattoos entranced her, although she couldn’t make heads or tails of them in the gloom. It was everything she could do to control herself, not just stand there slack-jawed.

The last things to go were his shoes and dark jeans. He shucked his pants and reached for her, but she managed to get a glimpse of his cock. Apparently he wasn’t merely arrogant, he actually had a huge dick to back up all his smooth moves.

They kissed again, and she led him backward to the bed. When the backs of her knees hit the bed, she melted back onto it.

He paused a second, going back and getting something from his wallet. She saw him grasp a shiny foil packet. She approved; if he hadn’t pulled out a condom, she would have.

Then he was back on the bed, on top of her. He kissed her deeply, then attended to both breasts, rolling her nipples around with his tongue. She moaned at the pulse of sensation between her breasts and her pussy, writhing.

She wriggled to get her thong off, wanting nothing between her and his cock.

He pulled back for just long enough to get the condom on, then spread her legs. He pressed his cock against her entrance.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, do it.”

He smirked for a moment, then pushed himself into her pussy inch by inch, making her cry out.

“You’re so tight,” he said, thrusting again. “Damn.”

She wrapped her legs around him as he set a rhythm, moaning at the feel of his cock going in and out, hitting every single spot that cried out for touch. He was setting her on fire as he worked himself in and out of her pussy.