Warnings: This title contains graphic language, violence, sex (straight and lesbian).
Word Count: 87,000
ALSO AVAILABLE IN PRINT
Climbing the stairs, her supple thighs quivered, and the ripe curves of her hips seemed the very definition of Woman.
She paused, one foot on the edge of a step, and looked back to me over her shoulder. I met her gaze brazenly. She parted her lips, but it wasn't a smile; it was appetite. I felt my vitals contract. The moment stretched out... and she merely nodded--but with such wisdom and insight. She lent this simple gesture such magnitude--then she turned and continued up the stairs.
I was hers.
Upstairs on the mezzanine, there were some scattered couples watching the dancers below. I followed Simone to a dark, lonely spot at the far end. Simone set her elbows on the tubular steel railing. I followed her gaze downward, saw the people below, the tossing hair, the pumping arms, but they didn't interest me. I looked to Simone. Raven hair across one eye, she stared down fixedly.
A few seconds passed. "Look at them, mein lieber Herr." Her voice was... lustful. "Like geese in the field!"
I reached out, gently closed my fingers upon that lock of hair across her eye. "I still don't know who you are, really," I said, very seriously. "Or where you come from. But you are my dream, Simone. All my life...."
She straightened up from the railing and faced me, her breasts curving out to me, her black eyes sucking in the light. "But I'm not a dream, Ross. I'm real. I'm here, right now." She took my hand. Her skin was cool. She pressed my hand to her breast. It rose against my palm as she inhaled. "This is real. This is your life. Tonight... is forever."
I shifted my hand, felt the weight of her flesh. I swayed toward her.
She stepped back, releasing my hand. "We must find a place," she said ardently. "A place to be alone."
She led me to a row of zebra-print booths along a wall of exposed brick. She stopped at one and pointed. I eagerly--obediently--slid in, all the way to the back. She came in after me, sat back erect, dark and shimmering, and stared at me with unreadable eyes.
I stared back.
Finally, we exhaled.
She raised her hands and took my face between her cool white palms. She pressed my cheek to hers. My eyes were lost in the thick curtain of her hair. I reached around behind her, opened my hands upon her back and I held her tightly to me. Her full breasts squeezed against my chest.
I gasped, "Dear God, I love you."
"And I, you."
I pulled a lock of her hair between my lips. I kissed the cool skin of her neck. Her nails dragged down the back of my suit coat. Her lips closed upon my earlobe, then slid down my throat. I shivered. Her sighs, her sharp inhalations, were the most erotic thing I'd ever heard. The Nitro, the world, disappeared. I bared my teeth against her flesh, passionately bit down--ah, God!
She was kissing my throat hungrily, smackingly. I felt her tongue swell against my skin. She licked me. Her tongue was rough, it was ticklish, it was exquisite. I loved it--I floated--
Piercing sting--my hands flung open--so hot and sharp and deep--goddammit that hurts!
That same seductive whisper.
I opened my mouth. Pathetic, sick gurgling.