A Week in New York (The Empire State Series Book 1) (2 page)

My right leg started bouncing. A nervous habit. I only noticed as I caught
Ethan noticing. He dragged his eyes from my leg up to my eyes and smiled.

“There’s no need to be nervous. We won’t do anything you don’t beg me to
do to you,” he whispered in my ear.

Wow.
My stomach tilted and I shifted in my seat, and went back to
staring out the window.

Ethan already seemed to have the key to a … our … the room. We made our
way up in the elevator without speaking. Without touching. I was more nervous
than I wanted to be. I could do sex with no strings attached. What was the big
deal?

When we reached the door, it swung open to reveal a huge living room
overlooking Central Park. It was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen. The
ceiling was decorated in what looked like gold leaf. The floors were dark and
gleamed against the lights of the city. It looked like a place where a Roman god
would live.

“Fuck,” I said, failing to keep what was in my head in my head.

“It’s a great view, isn’t it?”

I nodded and walked toward the window, placing my hands on the glass as I
stared out. I wanted to know who this guy was. He certainly wasn’t in
construction. Maybe he was a gangster. I reminded myself that it didn’t matter.
I wasn’t here for romance or to get to know him. I was here for fun. Distraction
without complications.

“Can I get you a drink to go with that view?”

“Whiskey, please,” I replied without turning around. I heard him clink
about behind me as I tried to make out various landmarks. “I think I can see
the Dakota Building,” I said, as if I were sightseeing, forgetting I was
talking to a stranger I was about to have sex with.

“It’s unusual for women to drink whiskey,” Ethan said.

“I guess you’d know.” Again, I didn’t mean for the comment to slip out of
my head. Or maybe I did. Maybe I wanted to see what response it would solicit.
But there was no response.

“Show me what you’re looking at,” he said, standing behind me, close. I
could feel his body heat rolling off him. He handed me my whiskey and dropped his
arm around my waist to pull me against him. I stiffened slightly and then
relaxed. This was nice. The drink, the view, the Roman god. He smelled of
something. Something intoxicating. I couldn’t think what it was. Money. Sex.
Power.

My finger stabbed the glass. “There. Is that the Dakota Building?” I
pointed at the green-roofed building on the west of the park.

“I don’t think so. I think the Dakota is on the East side.”

“Oh.” I tipped my head back slightly and it fell on his chest. He was
tall. Very tall.

He pushed his cheek against mine and lowered his mouth to my neck, his
breath tickling my skin. I wanted him. I really wanted him.

“I have more rules.”

He kissed my neck. “Tell me.”

“You have to wear a condom.”

“Right this moment?” he teased.

“No, later when … if.”

“What else?” He kissed my neck again.

“We’re not exchanging numbers or email or saying we’re going to see each
other again.”

He moved to the other side of my neck and kissed me again. I could feel
myself soften slightly with each touch of his lips.

“Ok,” he replied. “Is that it?”

“For now,” I said. My brain was fuzzy and I couldn’t think of anything
else.

“Good.” He pulled away from me and I turned to see him sit down on the
sofa opposite the window. “Undress for me.”

I paused, just for a second or two, but there was no saying no to him—and
I didn’t want to say no. I fumbled with the top button of my shirt and then
steadied my hand and undid the rest of the buttons. I peeled off the tight-fitting
blue silk shirt and let it fall to the ground. I looked at him and he was
looking me directly in the eyes as he took a sip of his drink. I felt my
underwear dampen.

He was just gorgeous, the kind of man you’d find on a billboard in Times
Square, but not on a sofa opposite me, waiting for me to get naked. I found the
zipper of my skirt and I turned around so my back was facing him as I pulled it
down. Bending at my waist, pushing my butt toward him, I stepped out of it. I
gave him a quick look over my shoulder. His eyes had darkened and he licked his
lips. He actually licked his lips, like he was getting ready to devour me. I
turned to face him in my underwear and heels.

“I’ll take care of the rest. Come here,” he growled. I felt heat rush to
my sex. I walked across to him and stood between his knees. “Where do I start
with you? You’re so beautiful. Like a perfectly wrapped present that gets more
exciting as the layers come off.”

I had to stop myself from enjoying his words. I wasn’t here to be
romanced. I was here to have fun.

He sat forward suddenly and delved into my underwear, his thumb finding
my nub instantly. “You’re already wet for me,” he said as his fingers slid
along my folds, coating his fingers with me as his thumb circled my clitoris.
My legs softened and my hands fell on his shoulders to steady myself.

He looked up at me. “You like that?”

I gasped and nodded, unable to speak.

“I knew you would. I knew when I saw you across the bar, rolling your
eyes at me. I knew this is what you wanted, what you needed.” His fingers
quickened and I twisted my hips in some kind of futile resistance. “Stay still
while I make you come.”

I tipped my head back as his fingers and thumb continued their work. My
whole body felt hot, on fire. The heat was emanating from between my legs and
spreading throughout my body. I could feel my nipples straining at the lace of
my bra, begging for attention. My shoulders rounded forward.

“Take it off,” he said. “Your bra. Now. Take it off.”

I felt myself shudder at his words. Unsteady and half-crazed, I unsnapped
the clasp of my bra and stripped it off.

“Oh, yes. You are perfect. Perfect tits. Perfect pussy.”

“Oh god,” I said. “Oh god. Oh god.” I was gasping for breath.

He reached behind me and pushed me harder on to his hand and he plunged
his fingers into me. “I’m your god tonight, beautiful. Now come for me.”

And I couldn’t help myself: My eyes closed and a blinding white light filled
my head as my climax crashed over me.

I felt myself weaken, and then Ethan’s arms around me. Had I fallen? I
felt softness all around me. Ethan was leaning over me—we were in bed.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I said, barely conscious. What the hell just happened? I’d always
associated good sex with intimacy and maybe love, but this man did mind-blowing
things to my body and I’d just met him.

“You look spectacular when you come.” He bent his head and took a nipple
between his teeth. I was writhing off the mattress as he alternated grazing and
sucking one breast and then the other. My hands pushed into his hair and he
pulled me up so I was facing him. For a second he looked at me before inching
forward and taking my bottom lip between his teeth. I wanted him again,
desperately. I wanted to see him above me, pushing into me, filling me. I
grabbed at his back and pulled his shirt from his trousers and scratched down
his back. He groaned and plunged his tongue into my mouth, urgent, hungry. I
reached down for his fly, impatient for more of him. He kneeled up, bringing my
mouth with him as his stripped his shirt off. I pushed him away and turned over
and onto all fours.

“Hurry. I want you inside me,” I said.

“Fuck, beautiful.”

I heard him rustling behind me, first with his clothes and then a condom
wrapper. I turned and looked over my shoulder and he was staring at my ass.

He kneeled behind me and I felt his hands on my hips. My skin fizzed at
his touch and I pushed back, wanting to feel more him.

“Back into position,” he growled. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re
not going to remember your own name.” And he pushed into me so forcefully that
my elbows gave way and I had to steady myself. I was full of him—so full it
bordered on uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was big or was
because he was deep. Really deep. He withdrew slowly—I was aware of every part
of him. His hand found my shoulder, giving me support and him resistance, and
he plunged in again, hard and deep.

“Jesus,” I cried out as I felt him at the end of me.

“Yes, baby. That’s it. We’re going to be doing this all night.”

He found his rhythm and I could do nothing but comply. Right then, I
would do whatever the hell he asked me to do. And he was the sort of man who
would ask for everything.

“All night. We’re going to fuck until you’re sore and still begging me
for more. Do you hear me?”

“More. Harder,” I choked.

He grunted and increased his rhythm, pushing farther and farther into me.
The rumbling of my orgasm started somewhere far off.

“I can feel you. You feel so good. And you’re close. Aren’t you?” he
asked.

“Yes, so close.”

And then he pulled out and I felt his fingers fall from my body. Panicked,
I looked over my shoulder.

“I have to see your face. On your back.”

I scrambled to my back, desperate to feel him again, and he pulled me
down the bed closer to him and pushed into me again.
Oh yes, that was it …
right there.

He didn’t take his eyes off of me as my orgasm built again. He put one of
my legs over his shoulder and the change in position sent me hurtling toward
that light again. I arched off the bed as my orgasm gripped me. Ethan’s rhythm
didn’t alter, not for a second, and each stroke pulled out another level of
pleasure until I was sure that I would pass out. When it finally subsided
enough for me to open my eyes, he was above me still, pushing into me, looking
at me.

A second after our eyes met, I felt him tense and watched his eyes cloud
as his climax washed over him.

He rolled off me, disposed of his condom, and his hands felt for my body
and pulled at me, bringing me closer to him. I got up and went to the bathroom.
I was here to have fun, not to cuddle.

I sat on the edge of the bath, still weak from my orgasm, still not quite
understanding how sex could be that amazing with a man I just met. I groaned
and pushed my hands through my hair. I had to get out of there, before things
got awkward. I grabbed a robe from the back of the bathroom door and drew it around
me.

As I peeked out the door, Ethan lay sprawled on the bed looking at the
ceiling, as if defeated. I smiled and headed to the living room.

“Anna?” I heard him call from the bedroom. I ignored him as I picked up
my clothes from the various points around the room at which they were
discarded.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice closer now. I looked up and
found him looking at me from the doorway.

“Umm. I’m finding my clothes. I need to get going—”

Ethan strode across the room, grabbed me by the bottom, lifted me over his
shoulder, marched back to the bedroom, and threw me on the bed.

“You’re not going anywhere. I told you we’re going to fuck all night, and
I’m not nearly halfway finished.”

Ethan

It was hot. Even this early, it was too fucking hot. I was
sweating already and I hadn’t even reached the Turtle Pond. I had been close to
waking her up and burying myself in her again this morning, she looked so
fucking sexy as she slept. But I didn’t do morning sex. So I left her there,
looking sexy as hell, and now I was running off my hard-on.

Wrong choice, bud
, my dick whispered to me. No morning
sex was a rule of mine. I liked that she had rules, too. I grinned as I
remembered her trying to think them up on the spot. Mine were set in stone and
no morning sex was at the top of the list—Number One. Number Two was no
sleepovers. Everything looked different in the morning. More real. And I didn’t
do real. Not with women. It was only ever sex. Great sex. Lots of sex. Lots of
women. But nothing more. More than that was too complicated, and rule Number Three
was I didn’t do complicated.

I wasn’t sure who fell asleep first but I hadn’t gotten
around to leaving the hotel. I’d booked the suite earlier in the day. I didn’t
bring women back to my place—rule Number Four—and I was tired of schlepping
over to bridge-and-tunnel land. Did no one live in Manhattan anymore? The
Mandarin Oriental always impressed, and besides I loved the view from the
Oriental Suite.

My cell rang and I took it, pleased to have a distraction.
“Scott,” I answered.

“Hey. How’d you do last night?” It was Andrew. We’d known
each other since college and we had a healthy competition between us in
everything we did.

“Good. I’m out on my run.”

“Man, I’m sorry you didn’t score.” He was baiting me and I
wasn’t biting. “Maybe you’re just too old for the young, hot girls these days.
You should think about settling down before the quality of women who will fuck
you dives too low.”