One Night in A Bar Read Online Free PDF Page B

thinking about, do it again. You had that look…” he stroked a hand down the side of her face, and she gasped.
    “Ah.” His smile grew. Reversing its path, he slid his hand back up her cheek, around into her hair. Gentle pressure drew her forward until she could feel his breath on her face, could almost feel the silky hair of his goatee on her skin.
    “So, this is what put that look there.” He touched his mouth to hers, pulled away. She made a frustrated noise, rising on to her toes to regain the wonderful pressure. He tightened his grip on her hair. She pressed herself against him, against the sleek, toned muscles of his chest and stomach—and his cock. He groaned, a drawn out sound that fed from his mouth to hers, and tore himself away from her.
    “Dan-iel…” she protested.
    “Hush. Look. See what I see.” He turned her, and she looked through the bathroom door at the mirror, at her reflection. Her hair was mussed from his hands, and her shirt askew, but what she noticed most was her face. Flushed, lips swollen, eyes big and hazy with pleasure. She drew in a breath, turned her face away.
    “No.” Daniel put his hand to her cheek and turned her back. “Watch.” He trailed his hand down to her throat, goose bumps breaking out where his fingers traced. He paused at her collarbone, met her gaze in the mirror.
    Slowly, he flicked open the first button of her shirt.
    Her breasts lifted with her breath.
    Another button.
    He kept her captive with his stare. She knew he was opening her blouse, knew she should stop him, but couldn’t break contact. Shivers ran down her body.
    The touch of skin on skin had her sagging against him. Only his body, hard and stable, kept her from melting to the floor. His hands stroked over her breasts, sliding into the cups of her bra. Her panties were wet, anticipation knotting her stomach.
    With a quick movement, he tugged the fabric down, exposing her nipples.
    “Look.”
    Dragging her attention from his face, she focused her gaze lower, watching their reflection. He tweaked her nipples, tugging then stroking in soothing circles. Her muscles trembled. Her pussy tightened hungrily. His hands looked impossibly strong and dark against her. She dropped her head back against his shoulder as sweet agony rose in her.
    Her nipples, already painfully tight, hardened even more, and the pressure of his fingers, pinching, soothing, tweaking, pinching, soothing, tweaking, pinching, soothing—
    She came with a cry, her body spasming hard, her pussy clenching painfully around nothing as his hands massaged her breasts, pushing her higher and further…
     
    * * * *
     
    Karen floated back to reality, her eyes drifting open to stare at the ceiling.
    At the white ceiling. Not her ceiling. Definitely not her bed… Memory flooded back.
    What had she done?
    Gasping, she pushed herself upright and realised that she wasn’t on a bed at all. She was on the table in Daniel’s studio. Her shirt was open, her breasts still out of her bra. Grimacing, she began adjusting them.
    “Leave it.”
    Her head snapped around. Daniel stood in the doorway, a bottle of water in one hand.
    “This was a mistake,” she began, hands still hovering in front of her chest.
    He wandered over, setting the bottle on the edge of the table before leaning in and brushing his mouth over hers. She breathed him in, hot male skin and soap, and melted into his kiss. Her hands rose to stroke through his hair and clasp behind his neck. He gripped her shoulders and laid her back against the hard tabletop, crawling up over her. His lips nuzzled her neck, and the now-familiar tremors began.
    “Daniel…” She didn’t know if it was a protest or encouragement. He took it as the latter.
    “Strip.”
    They sat up and in moments they were both naked, clothes strewn aside, and they lay back again, Daniel’s mouth once again at her throat.
    Her pussy tightened as he nibbled and licked his way down her torso. Her skin prickled where he