All Things Pretty (Pretty #3)(22)
Author: M. Leighton

The brunette pulls Tommi’s lacy panties from one hip and I let my eyes wander back up a flat, golden stomach to pale-white, creamy breasts that are absolutely perfect in every way. They’re plump and high and topped with dusky pink nipples that are just the right size. At the moment, they’re hard as damn rocks, too.

My cock stirs in my jeans and I think to myself that I should go back downstairs. Tonin would be mad as hell if he found me up here creeping on his party, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Tommi. She’s the sexiest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her skin is flawless, her body exquisite. Every long, tall inch of it.

I pull my gaze away from her tits to find her face. Her eyes are open now. And focused on me.

CHAPTER NINETEEN- TOMMI

In my mind, Sig is so real. With the thump of the music drowning out reality, I can feel his hands on my body, his mouth at my breast, his hair between my fingers. In my fantasy, in the quiet of my mind, I can be anywhere, with anybody. And I chose Sig. Whether I meant to or not, he’s on my mind more often than not lately.

Heat and moisture spread from my nipples down my stomach to my navel. Fingers tug at my panties and I want more than anything to lose myself to sensation. To him.

Only this isn’t real. Not what’s in my head. It’s just a dream, a foggy place where I go to escape whatever is happening to me. I’ve done it most of my life and it’s always worked. Until tonight. I know when I open my eyes, I won’t see Sig. I’ll be alone in a room full of people, in a room full of people who don’t even know me, who only want something from me that I don’t want to give.

Reluctantly, my lids drift up and lock onto a pair of eyes that look onyx in the shadows, eyes that I’ve been dreaming about since I first saw them sparkle in the sunshine. For a few seconds, I can’t be sure I’m not still in my dream world.

Is Sig really standing in the doorway, watching me? I don’t know.

His gaze devours me, delves into my soul, through the windows of my pupils. I can feel him touching me there, like I can feel his stare touching me everywhere else.

Like a caress, I watch his eyes fall to my lips. I wet them because they burn for him, for his kiss. I see his perusal skim my throat and chest and stray to my breasts. My nipples tingle into sharp points, aching for the man who stands across the room. My stomach muscles contract when the dark orbs tease them. And when they go lower, as though stripping me barer than I already am, I feel the gush of warmth between my legs.

I gasp, teetering between what’s real and what’s imagined. It’s when Sig’s eyes return to mine, blazing with a fire that singes my nerve ends, that I realize he’s here. He’s really here, standing in the doorway, watching as another woman touches me so that Lance can get off. What he doesn’t know is that his is the only touch that I crave–Sig’s.

I jerk my eyes away. I have to fight the urge to cover myself because I can’t draw Lance’s attention to Sig or this night will go sideways in a hurry. Instead, I tug on Felicia’s head and bring her back up to stand in front of me. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell her.

With a sexy smile, she nods and whirls away to grab the pole with one hand and swing her body around it, always the performer. I hold up one finger to Lance, who just lays his head back and closes his eyes as Amber bobs up and down on him.

Trying not to act self-conscious, I walk across the room in only my heels and panties, my head held high. I remind myself that nobody knows me. Not really. They might think they do, that they can judge me, but they can’t. They have no idea what my life is like, what’s involved and why I do the things that I do. God forbid they ever have to find out, that they ever have to face the limited options I’ve had to face. And make the choices that I’ve made.

My cheeks burn as I brush past Sig in the hall and hurry to the bathroom. I know he will follow me. I can see the anger on his face. He’s too mad to think about self-preservation, which is why I have to preserve for him.

He comes in behind me and closes the door. I cover myself as I turn, not expecting him to be right next to me.

“Why?” he hisses. “Why the hell do you let him do this shit to you? You’re better than this. Better than him.”

“If I do things like this for him, let him watch, he keeps his hands off me. It’s a deal we made a long time ago. He can keep his whores or he can have me. Not both.”

“H-he doesn’t touch you? You don’t…”

“No. I don’t think I could live with myself. Besides, it’s not his hands that I want touching me.”

He watches me, chest heaving, for two long seconds and then his mouth is on mine, hot and urgent. His fingers thread into my braid and fist, pulling my head to the side as he slips his tongue between my lips. I taste the dark hint of whiskey combined with a sweetness that seems to be just Sig, and I realize that I’m thirsty. So thirsty. For this. For him.

He kisses me with a wildness that awakens an abandon in me, a desire to throw caution to the wind and dive into this. And for a few moments, I do.

I dig my nails into his straining biceps and I open for him, I let him into a place that few people have ever seen. It’s a place where I hide, I hide the real me with all her emotions and hurts and wants.

Sig winds his arms around me, the fingers of one hand squeezing my butt while the other skates up and down my naked side. When his lips leave mine and trail along my jaw, I arch for him, my only thought to feel his kiss on every needy surface of my body.

“When you go back out there, you think of me,” he growls lustily, his teeth biting into my chin as he passes on his way to my neck. “My hands, my lips, my tongue.”

I feel breathless and hot. On fire, from the inside out. When his mouth latches onto my nipple, I gasp my response to him as quietly as I can. “I was. I was already thinking of you.”

“Now you’ll know,” he says around my flesh, his tongue and teeth and lips, licking and nipping and sucking. “You’ll know what it feels like. And what it’ll be like when I have you naked, underneath me.”

I’m panting, dizzy when his hand slides down my belly and into my panties, one long finger finding my core, driving inside me and bringing me up on my tiptoes.

“Oh god!” I whisper, my muscles tightening as I spiral up and up and up.

Sig pumps his finger in and out of me, rough and fast then slow and deep, pausing every few seconds for his thumb to massage my clit. “Feel me. Just me.”