Revue (14 page)

“Okay. As long as you’re not worried.”

“Nah,” she said, crunching again. “So, tell me more about Josh. There is more, isn’t there? I can tell.”

I looked up at the mention of his name, finding him standing by the door of the hotel, waiting for me. He looked so … normal, so …
boyfriend material
. It pained my chest. “He’s sexy as hell, Em,” I sighed, holding up my finger to Josh and indicating I’d be a minute or so longer. He nodded in acknowledgement and then pulled out his own phone.

More crunching. “Yes, we’ve already established that. He is the hottest male revue performer in the country. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“And he knows it. He knows he’s sexy, and that’s
not
sexy.”

“Why?” she mumbled. “Why isn’t self-confidence sexy? I think it is.”

“That’s not what I mean. It’s the way he acts. At times, it’s disgusting. He’s such a slut, and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care one bit. He just fucks, and fucks off. Fucks, and fucks off. And they love him for it.”

“So why do you even care what he does?” she asked, her tone smug and knowing.

“Because he wants to try and change for me.”

“Oh.”
Crunch.

“Yeah, oh.”

Silence.

More silence.

“So what are you going to do?”
Crunch.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I believe him. I don’t know if I should. I don’t know if what we share is anything but forced because we have no choice but to spend so much time together. I don’t know if what I’m feeling is real or not.”

“And what are you feeling?”

“Something.”

“Hmm …”

“What’s ‘hmm’ mean?”

Crunch.

“It means you really like him.”

I picked up a pebble and twirled it between my fingers, watching Josh as I did so. “Yeah, I do. A lot. I just don’t know if I can trust him with my heart.”

“Can you really trust anyone with your heart?”

“Well … yeah. I’d like to think that you can.”

“Look, I know you were hurt by Steve. I get that. But you can’t let others pay for his mistake.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are. You, most of all.”

“I’m not paying for his mistake, Em. I’m protecting myself. There’s nothing wrong with that. If I don’t then who will?” I asked, tossing the pebble into the fountain.

“Me.”

I smiled. “I know.”

“Tell you what,” she said, the sound of Tim Tam packet ruffling and her shuffling about indicating she was changing position and about to get serious. “Give him a chance but take it slow. Don’t jump in head first, yet don’t stand on the edge deciding whether you’ll jump at all. Ease yourself into the water that is Josh Fuckalicious Adams.”

I laughed. Loud.

Josh looked up, so I waved. He waved back, his brow creased in the most adorable way.

“My God, is he fuckalicious. Seriously, Em, I’m staring at him now and it’s making my vagina hungry.”

“Then go and feed her.”

“I will. But do I feed her cock or something else?”

“What the fuck else would you feed her? A damn dog?”

“No!” I giggled. “Do I feed her his tongue, finger, cock, or all three?”

“Well, remembering that you’re on the edge and easing yourself into the water that is Josh, why don’t you feed her all of the above, sans the cock. Leave the cock for when she’s famished. Trust me, she’ll feast when the time comes and then thank you for it with an almighty orgasm.”

“I love you, Emma Davis. I love you like a dog loves his nuts.”

She laughed. “And I love you, Corinne Lee. I love you like a golfer likes to putts.”

I shook my head and laughed silently to myself.

“That one didn’t work, did it?” she asked, and I could totally picture her scrunching up her nose in disapproval.

“No, not really. But I love you anyway.”

“Good. Now go! Go and cure vagina hunger. I’ll call you in a day or two and let you know if the Gold Coast is a goer.”

“Okay. I hope it is. I miss you so much.”

“Yeah, me too.” She blew a kiss down the phone and disconnected the call.

I stared at my phone screen for a few seconds before standing up and walking toward Josh, now knowing what the rest of the night entailed.

Hungry vagina … fed.

***

“Josh,” I groaned, trying desperately to pry his heavy-weighted body off me.

He groaned in response. “What?”

“Let me go in the room and freshen up first.”

His weight off my back and his lips on my neck lifted as he stepped back and propped himself against the wall outside my hotel room with his hand. “What the fuck does that even mean? Let me go in and wash my pussy?”

“No! I mean, yes. I mean, maybe. I don’t know. It means let me go and do some girly stuff first.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want you to wash your pussy? That I want it smelling and tasting like a pussy should?”

I clenched said pussy and stuttered, “N … n … n … no. I—”

“Just open the fucking door or I’ll throw you against it. Right here, right now.”
Holy shit! I’m not exactly opposed to that.

Fumbling with my room key, I slid it through the slot, hearing the beep and then pushing the door forward. Josh’s hand instantly wrapped around my waist and lifted me up, my feet dangling from the ground.

I squealed.

“You’re takin’ far too fucking long, sweetheart.”

Carrying me inside, he placed me on my feet at the foot of the bed and curled his hands around my face, holding my head still while he teased his tongue into my mouth.

I sighed.

I fell limp.

I melted.

Finding the buckle to his belt with lazy fingers, I began to unlatch it. His hands dropped to the buttons of my shirt, and one by one popped them open slowly, revealing my pale pink lace bra.

Chocolate eyes widened and zeroed in on my heaving chest. “I really fucking like your tits.”

“I really like them too.”

“So you should,” he said, pearly whites meeting my not so pearly whites. “Women should appreciate their bodies more than they do.”

His comment caught me off-guard. For a womaniser, it wasn’t something I’d ever expect to hear him say.

“What?” he asked, leaning back and assessing my face with his darting eyes.

“I just didn’t expect something like that to come out of your mouth.”

“Why?” His lips found my neck.

“Because you normally treat women like shit.”

“Do not,” he murmured, his tongue leaving a hot trail on my skin.

Oh good God.
“Do so.”

Josh gently clamped his teeth into my shoulder. “Does this feel like shit?” he asked.

I gasped. “No.”

“Then shut up and let me show you what else doesn’t feel like shit.” His hands skated across my back, stopping to unhook my bra.

“Don’t tell me to shut up.”

“Shut up.”

“Arsehole.”

“Bitch.”

I burst into laughter, as did he.
What the fuck are we doing?

Our giggles died off, though, when he lifted the straps of my bra from my shoulders and then dropped it to the floor.

Paralysed.

Fixated to the spot.

His stare had me immobilised for its intensity, the way he seemed to be mapping out in his head how he’d take his time and leave no part of me untouched.

Before stepping any closer, our eyes met. “So, sweetheart, does this mean you’re going to let me try? You’re going to give me another chance?”

“Yes. But I’m not sleeping with you tonight. I want to take it slow. I can’t just jump into this with you.”

His shoulders slumped mildly, enough for me to notice, and I felt a tinge of disappointment. I guess, in a way, this could be seen as a test. If he were okay with my decision to play it safe, then that would prove he was truly ‘trying’ for something else other than a quick, meaningless fuck. So without my intending to, a lot was riding on what he said or did next. Right now, in this moment, he had the ability to make or break what we had. And damn, did I want it made. If he broke it, I would break too … then I’d break him.

A seductive smile crept across his face. “I thought I told you we didn’t have to sleep.”

“I’m serious, Josh,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

His expression turned hard. “Uncross them. Now!”

Slowly, I let my arms fall to my sides, which was when he stepped forward and placed his hands on my breasts, gently, softly, his touch one of controlled awe. “You want to take it slow? Fine, we take it slow. But, sweetheart, I
will
be tasting your pretty little cunt tonight. That’s as slow as I go.”

Words. Touch. Hands. It was all too much.

My head fell back, and I moaned, his kneading fingers pure heaven. Josh’s lips found mine, and fuck me stupid, the man could kiss the socks off a worm if it had the feet to put them on. He was THAT good with his tongue, a tongue I would soon have lapping at my core.

Said core clenched. Said core was wet … and ready.

He lifted me up, our mouths separated, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He nuzzled my nipple and hummed before taking it into his mouth and near making me explode and cry out his name. “God, Josh! Your tongue … just … God!”

“That I am,” he murmured, continuing to twirl his majestic oral organ. “Lord of the Tongues.”

The feel of soft linen touched my back as he laid me down on the bed and began to fumble with the button on my jeans. It made me laugh. “You’re not very good at stripping, are you, oh Lord?”

That seductive eyebrow I adored so much rose, and what it suggested, I did not like. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I warned. “They’re not made of Velcro.”

Josh smirked and unhooked the button, slowly dragging my jeans and underwear down my legs with a look of hungered need. Happiness danced across my face, as it would appear that he and my vagina were hungry for the same thing.

Licking his lips, he kneeled on the bed, spread my legs, and settled himself in between them.
Holy fuck! I need this. I so, so need this.
With my heart pounding and my limbs quivering, I hadn’t realised just how much I’d needed this until now … propped up on my elbows while watching him with bated breath. There was something overtly sexy, empowering and terrifying about being lain bare and spread wide for a man who wanted nothing more than to devour you. It was a sweet mix of vulnerability, desire and confidence, knowing that what you were about to provide him with was exactly what he craved and needed as much as you.

Offering your pussy to a man who’s hungry is the most exquisite of power plays.

“You sure ’bout this whole going slow thing?” he asked, his voice gravelly, his sight glued to the glistening between my legs.

I couldn’t speak, so just nodded. If I spoke, I would more than likely say ‘No, let’s break the world land-speed record’.

“Best I keep my clothes on then.” He performed a subtle click of his neck, the God damn sexy action heightening my need to feel his tongue.

“I don’t mean
that
slow.” I pouted.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Once I put my lips on yours and drag my tongue along you, all bets are off. Clothes will keep things slow—trust me.”

Bad clothes. Bad, bad clothes.
And while I’m at it … bad, Cori. Bad, bad Cori.

I pursed my lips and nodded, but I knew he was right. I also knew that it was unfair to want my cake and eat it too. Problem was, I really liked cake.

Leaning forward, Josh placed his finger on my belly button, tracing circles around the small dip. It tickled, gloriously, and a sigh escaped my mouth, the sensation causing my head to drop back. “Mm …” I hummed, which was when the teasing circles turned into a line, directly down my belly before stopping just shy of my wet heat.

I moaned, impatiently. “Josh.”

“Shh,” he whispered, leaning forward and kissing the top of my pussy.

I couldn’t help it and bucked into him, wanting more. Wanting him to go lower. Wanting to feel his tongue.

“Greedy girl.”

I nodded. “More.”

His finger slid across my clit, sending a bolt of pleasure right through me, and heat to the tip of my head.

I squirmed.

He chuckled.

“You’re so evil,” I rasped.

“If I were evil, would I do this?”

His head dipped again, and wet warmth lathed my pussy in one long, slow swipe before his lips clamped around my clit.

“Oh fuck!” I cried out, gripping his head and clenching my thighs.

My tense legs were fought when he clasped his hands around them and pried them apart, growling like a freakin’ lion as he devoured me with his mouth
.
The desperation, the rabidness … the sheer delectable aggression he displayed just to have me on the tip of his tongue. It was all too much.

Josh’s tongue flicked my clit with rapid speed, working me like crazy. Lifting my head, I had to see his face, his eyes, which were blazing with such determination that his sheer stare alone all but had me coming.

My eyelids fell shut and stars began painting the insides of them, sparkling and appearing one by one. He dipped his tongue inside me, once, twice, three times, and all of a sudden I had the fucking Milky Way twinkling before my closed eyes.

I loved stars.

They were beautiful.

“Oh. My. God!” I cried out, as those luminous beauties faded into black.

Josh shuffled, his lips leaving my skin. “I’m not done yet.”

“Really?” I barely voiced, my breath still absent. The struggle to suck in oxygen, together with lift one lone eyelid was real, but I managed it in good time.

“Yeah, I just found this.” He held up my BOB, rotating it between his fingers like a baton twirler.

My cheeks flamed. BOBs were private.

“Where’d you get that?”

“It was sitting on top of your suitcase,” he explained, glistening, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Been busy, sweetheart?”

Fuck! Yeah, I have. There’s this arrogant cockhead who gets me all hot and bothered. BOB knows how to help me with that.

“Maybe. Maybe Not.”

I had nothing. Really, what could I say? I may as well have talked about pizza or swings or guinea pigs. It wouldn’t have mattered. BOBs accidentally placed on top of suitcases spoke for themselves.

A purposeful gleam surfaced to his eyes, and he pressed the ‘on’ button, my BOB buzzing to life in his hand. That all too familiar sound vibrated through my chest, filtering deep and spreading anticipation like wildfire as he lowered his hand between my legs.

He touched.

I jolted.

He pulled away.

I frowned.

The man was the devil incarnate, or perhaps an Incubus. Either way, in this moment, my body was his to do with as he pleased.

“Josh, please,” I begged unashamedly, desperately needing that sweet buzz between my legs.

Feeling the tip of his finger slide through my soaking wet sex, I gripped the sheets and bowed my back, angling my pussy so that he could easily enter me. I needed the friction, needed the internal massage. I needed something inside me—something warm and life-like, not a silicon machine.

He teased my opening with his fingertip, swirling my skin and slowly stretching. It stole my already stolen breath, my cognition, and my will to stay in control. “In. Please! Please, just put your fucking finger in.”

He didn’t hesitate and pushed inside me, sliding back out again, teasingly, before delving back inside.

Push. Withdraw. Swirl. Repeat.
Oh my God, it’s heaven!

“So fucking wet and tight,” he murmured, the sound of tortured bliss evident in his tone.

What he was doing was glorious, so incredibly good—the pressure, the push, the rhythm … perfect.

I closed my eyes and moaned. “So good, Josh. So, so good.”

The buzz of BOB gently hit my clit, his finger pumping me harder, and I cried out, squirming beneath him. “Josh, I can’t. Oh my God! I can’t—” And BAM, there were those twinkly little sex-stars again, popping like firecrackers before me.

I came.

Hard.

And long.

Twice.

Until he removed BOB and covered my mouth with his own, kissing the last bit of life right out of me.

“Shit!” I gasped, sated beyond belief when our lips parted. “That was awesome.”

“You’re telling me. Can’t wait to fuck your pretty little cunt properly, sweetheart.”

I turned on my side, mimicking his propped up position by resting my head in my hand. “Are you angry?” I asked, feeling terrible for not pleasing him.

“No. A little frustrated, maybe. But I get it. You need to know you can trust me first.”

My gaze dropped to the bed. “I’m sorry.”

He stretched forward and lightly kissed my lips. “Don’t be.” He then rolled to the edge of my bed and stood.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Back to my room.”

“What?” I searched his eyes, shocked, my blood running cold.

“Well, yeah. I have to go and rub one out now.” My blood thawed and my gaze dropped to his crotch. He grabbed it, giving it a light squeeze. “What? You didn’t think that after doing that to you, and seeing you come apart like that, that I wouldn’t need to blow off steam too?”

I bit my lip, sight still glued to his groin. “Then do it. Here. Now.” Looking up, I met his heavy gaze and moved to sit on my knees. “I want to see you come.”

A sexy noise reverberated from within his throat—as if needing to clear the ‘holy fuck!’ that was lodged there—and flexed his hand over his cock, both movements prompting me to lick my lips.

“Don’t lick your lips unless you want this between them, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t help it and licked them again, yet I didn’t know if what I wanted was to give him a blowjob just yet. That was going a little faster than the slow I had planned. But then again, seeing him before me—hard bulge in his hand—I wasn’t ruling it out.

“Rub, Josh,” I said with authority, reaching up to pinch my nipple.

He made the ‘holy fuck’ noise again and unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down and allowing his cock to spring free. It bobbed before me, thick and hard, pre-cum glistening on his smooth crown.

I swallowed … barely.

I breathed … barely.

Sweet Jesus, that thing looked delicious!
But let’s face it, like babies, not all cocks were gorgeous. Some were weird looking and, at first glance, all you could do was mentally will your lips to part and say the words ‘Mm … yum’ when really you were thinking ‘er … um’.

I certainly wasn’t thinking that, though. Josh’s cock really was a sight to behold, just like the rest of him. It had me shifting just slightly in preparation for his stroking to begin. And damn, did I want to watch him stroke that thing. I’d never wanted to see something so bad in my life. In fact, I was almost ready to lean over the bed, reach for my camera and take a picture of him in stroking action.
Oh … I wonder if he’ll let me?

Biting my lip, I nodded confidently for him to proceed, which he did … after an eyebrow raise at my brashness. He then reached behind his neck, lifted his T-shirt over his head and threw it to the side, just like a seasoned pro revue performer.

Impressive. No … really, impressive.

I was super impressed with the man before me, in all his naked glory with said gorgeous, glistening cock. Yes, bravo. And even more bravo when his hand dropped and palmed the base of his shaft.

I shifted again, watching as his hand slowly slid up and back down, up and back down, the action loving and tender. It was hot as fuck.