Starfire (Erotic Romance) (Peaches Monroe) (19 page)

Dalton made a gagging expression. “Some actual water would be refreshing. I think that last one was mostly dog slobber.” He rubbed his face with his dry sleeve. “Is water supposed to be stringy?”

I pointed to the door of a casual-looking burritos restaurant. “Let’s go in there and get you cleaned up.”

He agreed, and I stood near the counter studying the menu board while he washed off the dog slobber. When he came back out, he looked up at the menu board and said, “What are we having?”

“You want to eat here?”

He breathed in deeply through his nose. “Why not? The food smells good.”

I pointed to the cash register. “We need to order up there and pay now, then they’ll call our number, or maybe they’ll just bring it out.”

He looked down at me, smiling and shaking his head, as if I was the dumbest but cutest person he’d ever met.

“Peaches, I’ve eaten at a cafe before. I’m practically a regular person.”

“Right. A regular person who has an airplane.”

“Just a little airplane.”

“And a butler.”

“Just a medium-sized butler.” He nudged me toward the cash register playfully. “Order something, cutie. I’m hungry.”

He was right about the restaurant smelling good. It seemed to be a family-run business, with three little kids running around behind the counter. After I ordered, I talked to the curly-haired woman, asking if she was the owner. She joked that she owned the kids, but the bank owned the restaurant. We talked for a few minutes, with me asking the ages of all the children, who were five, eight, and eight, the latter being fraternal twins.

Dalton and I took our drinks to our table and sat near a window. We’d come down a hill to get here, but there was still a nice view of the city in one direction.

“You want kids?” he asked.

I took a sip of my iced tea.

This moment could have been a good time to open up to Dalton, but there were people around. It would be bad enough to hear Dalton incredulously say I
must have known
I was pregnant, without looking over into strangers’ open mouths, full of half-chewed burritos.

I countered with, “Do you really think your PR problem is so bad you need to have a PR baby?”

He slipped off his sweatshirt and stretched back like a sleepy lion before raising his arms in the air. His thin shirt stretched even tighter across his pectoral muscles, and he flashed me one bump’s worth of his abs. There were many reasons the man inspired legions of fangirls to flock to any convention he was scheduled to attend, and two of those reasons were his pecks. Another two were his arms—those gorgeous arms lazily stretching and flexing before me.

“I had fun with your little brother, at your cousin’s wedding,” he said.

My skin started to tingle. The way he was looking at me while talking about kids and my brother—did he know something?

“What exactly did you and Golden talk about?”

I was pretty sure Golden didn’t know Kyle was my son, because I sure as hell hadn’t told her, but you just never know in a small town.

He said, “Why are we back to talking about your friend? Am I going to get a drink or two thrown in my face?”

“Only if you waggle your slutty vampire eyebrows when you talk about her.”

He chortled, leaning forward across the table on his elbows. I tore myself away from his hypnotic green eyes. The wood table had a hand-made checkerboard marked with wood stain. I traced the edges with my fingernail.

“You and I would make beautiful babies,” he said.

I fanned my face with my hand, then removed my hoodie jacket. “We’d have chubby little babies, and everyone in the media would make fun of them.”

He sat back quickly, a look of shock on his face. “I’ll sue every last one of them.” He looked left and right, flexing and releasing his fists. “Damn it, you’ve got me all worked up about these fictional babies. I’ll do anything to protect them. Anything.”

I smiled, remembering how cute he had been, ferrying Kyle around on his shoulders at my cousin Marita’s wedding, then getting all the kids dogpiling on him.

“Don’t get all crazy,” I said. “Our kids would be fine. Kids are resilient and brave. They’re fearless, you know? They have to learn caution.”

Right on cue, the owner’s three children came running to our table with our food on trays. All three wore proud grins on their faces. The five-year-old set out our napkins, smoothing them down with her chubby hands and taking her job very seriously.

“We’ll hire actors to play our children,” Dalton said, smiling now. “These waiters seem talented.”

The twins putting our food on the table got big eyes.

“Do you have an agent?” Dalton asked the twins.

When they were suitably freaked out, he said, “It’s okay, I’m just kidding. Thank you for the food.”

They both giggled and scurried away with their little sister.

“You’re good with kids,” I said.

He unwrapped the foil around his burrito and studied it seriously. “No rush,” he said. “We’ll try marriage first.”

I reached for my ring finger, as though I could feel the engagement ring even when it wasn’t on.

~

After dinner, we walked around the city until the sun disappeared and some of the more interesting city residents became aggressive in their panhandling.

We took a taxi to the hotel, then an elevator up to our room on the top floor.

Dalton opened the curtains so we could enjoy the view of the harbor through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

As I stood there admiring the twinkling lights and the shimmering water beyond the city, he stepped in close behind me. He took both of my arms and placed my palms against the glass. “Don’t you dare move,” he growled near my ear.

Standing behind me, he pressed his hot body against my back while he lifted my hair and kissed the back of my neck. My palms squeaked against the glass, and it took effort for me to push them back into place and hold still as his hands explored my front and unzipped my jacket.

My heart reacted, speeding up and rushing energy flow everywhere, especially between my legs. My pussy was thrumming with pressure as he pressed his body against my buttocks while unfastening the button of my jeans. He slid my jeans down and helped me kick them off.

He bit my earlobe, his breath hot on my neck. “I’m going to pull your hands off the window for a minute to get your shirt off, but don’t turn around.”

I murmured in agreement, and he gently removed my layers, stopping at my bra. “Such a pretty bra,” he said softly as he kissed the strap on my shoulder. “Would you prefer to wear your pretty bra while I fuck you in front of the whole city?”

“Yes,” I said, fully aware of what I was agreeing to.

“I’ve had some things delivered to the room,” he said.

“Like what?”

He ran his finger from the nape of my neck down to the top of my panties, lighting up my whole spine with his touch. “You’ll see. Don’t turn around.”

The suspense was killing me. Standing in front of an enormous window in my underwear was killing me. Was the window even tinted for privacy? The room behind me wasn’t bright, but had a warm glow from a few lamps. Oh, hell. I didn’t care. The cars on the street below looked like toys, anyway.

Dalton left me for a moment, and returned with a large shoebox. Still standing with my hands on the glass, I peeked under my armpit at him as he knelt and took a pair of insanely-stacked platform heels out of the box. In a flash, I remembered standing on the books in my bedroom. Dalton was taller than me, as most guys were, so we needed adjustments for certain positions.

He slipped one crazy platform-heeled shoe onto one foot, and then the other. They fit perfectly.

He stayed kneeling by my heels, shirtless now, but still wearing his jeans. He kissed the backs of my calves while complimenting the curvy new shape they took on thanks to the heels. My alignment was different, with my hips tilted and my back more curved, my round buttocks thrust up and beckoning.

I moaned as his lips rained down on the backs of my calves, then behind my knees, then up my thighs. I’d waited so long for him to kiss me, which only made it better. Had I ever been kissed so thoroughly? I couldn’t remember, couldn’t think… could scarcely breathe.

My palms squeaked on the glass, reminding me to push them back up.

Dalton and I hadn’t been together since that night in my bedroom, before the LA trip and all those fights.

I’d been so scared we’d never touch each other again, and scared we would. I glanced over at the door to the room. How fast could I run in these crazy shoes? Not fast at all! Maybe that was why he chose them.

With one smooth movement, he reached up and yanked my panties down and off. With the next movement, his finger was between my swollen lips, gliding against my slick skin and probing that hot, swollen spot that made me whimper.

He stayed kneeling, kissing my lower back and the sides of my hips and legs, his hand clutching at me rhythmically, fingers delving inside.

He continued doing this until I was about to burst, then eased off. After a gentle bite on my lower back, he said, “You’re the most beautiful sight in all of San Francisco.”

“You make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”

He got to his feet, and a second later, his jeans hit the ground.

“You’re about to get very lucky,” he breathed, his voice husky and sexy.

“Break me.” I took a small step sideways with one foot and leaned forward, my hands inching up on the glass and my forehead touching the cool surface. I was burning up, my skin hot and wet all over.

A wrapper crinkled.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

I licked my lips and arched my back some more. “Break me, Dalton Deangelo. Shake me. Take me. Break me.”

His cock slid between my legs, then smoothly against my pussy, lengthwise. He moved in close, the front of him pressing against my back as I straightened up my torso for more contact.

He slid back and forth, gliding between my folds, the head nudging my clit as it appeared and disappeared between my legs. I looked down at his bare feet, on the floor between mine. His toes flexed up and down as he adjusted his position. He kept teasing me with his cock, slowing and pressing against my opening, nudging in briefly before slipping away and gliding past.

“Break me,” I said.

He grabbed my breasts through my bra and cupped them firmly. Still he teased my pussy, his long, thick cock sliding forward and back lengthwise, the condom fully lubricated and slippery by now.

“Fuck me,” I said.

His breath caught in his throat. He pulled back and slipped in with one firm thrust.

I cried out so loud, it was practically a scream.

His hands were everywhere, and he plunged in and out of me in desperation. He slipped one hand down my front, where he spread me apart and rubbed my clit in rhythm as he pounded me from behind. My hands were slipping all over the glass, and the movement pushed me forward, until my breasts were also mashing against the glass. I could barely catch my breath, let alone find something to hold onto.

I felt his pressure build, but I was too excited, too nervous. “Go ahead,” I said.

With a grunt, he did, pounding harder and faster into me until he lost his rhythm and jerked against me, helpless in the rushing stream of his own pleasure.

When he was finished, he gently bit my shoulder and rested against me. By now, I felt like the lunch meat in a Dalton-window sandwich, which is a little awkward, but not in a bad way.

I stared down at the tiny cars on the street below and wondered if any of the tiny people were looking up at me. They might wonder why a naked girl was panting and sliding around on a window.

Dalton pulled out and away, excusing himself and disappearing to the washroom.

A moment later, he popped open the door and called out, “Get in here! You need to see this tub.”

“Do I need to wear the shoes?” I took two tentative steps to turn myself around and found myself teetering and grabbing for the nearby curtains to keep myself from wiping out.
Real sexy, Peaches.

“You don’t need those shoes in the tub!” he replied.

“Not anywhere,” I muttered as I carefully stepped out of them and down to solid ground.

CHAPTER 19

I pulled the cord to shut the curtains, then slipped off my bra and walked over to the bathroom.

He met me at the door, a towel slung around his waist.

Kissing my neck, he said, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. I want to make you come tonight. Many times.”

“It’s been a long day.” I looked over at the tub, which was the size of a multi-person jacuzzi. Dalton had turned the water on and it was filling via multiple spouts. “Let’s pace ourselves,” I said.

As the tub filled, I carefully removed my beautiful new watch and set it on the counter.

I climbed into the hot, welcoming bath, and soon we were bobbing around in sudsy, fragrant hot water. (Okay, one of us was “bobbing” a little more than the other, and I
do mean
my peaches.)

I’d never been in such a fancy hotel room before, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn Presidents had stayed in that suite. The bathroom alone was bigger than should be legally allowed, on account of spoiling people forever. After a night there, how could I ever go back to my own hovel of a bathroom? With the sink and the tub and the toilet all sharing the same room? (This fancy bathroom had a separate enclosed space for the potty, in case you’re wondering, and, yes, there was a bidet, too.)

We took our time soaking in the tub, playing footsies and making eyes at each other from opposite sides of the tub.

“Does this hot tub remind you of anything?” Dalton asked.

“Do you mean the time we almost got shot by some crazy guy with a shotgun?”

“That was a good day.” He took a breath and disappeared down into the water. His hands pulled my knees apart, and he dove at my pussy with such speed, I practically screamed, but it turned into a sigh when he just gave me a gentle, underwater lick.

He surfaced in front of me, wiped the water from his eyes, and kissed me.