June Islip out into the hall several hours later with the ice bucket and make my way to the vending machines. The hotel room is quiet. Exc ept for Marnie puking and Beth holding her hair, everyone’s passed out. I feel a headache coming on. I want something cold to press on the back of Marnie’s neck while she yaks up all the alcohol she dumped into her stomach. The stripper was a hit. Party Bill really did come through. The guy wasn’t much to look at, but he was funny, high-energy (especially after taking a snort in the bathroom one of Marnie’s party-girl friends offered him), and willing to degrade himself for dollar bills. His show lasted an hour, then there was the club, and another club, and the lounge, the afterhours bar... Now we’re back and I’m ready to drop. In all that mess, I’ve had a total of two drinks. Enough to ke ep me going, but not enough to get me impaired. Someone had to be sober, and that someone’s usually me. It’s my job. Or my self-imposed role, anyway. The party mom, the responsible one. Out late and lost your keys? Call June. Got lost and need a ride? Call June. I’d say I hate it, but I don’t. It’s who I am. Grandma Hattie taught me young. Or really, forced me to learn. Someone’s got to take care of everything. And that someone might as well be me. I reach the machines and scoop ice into the bucket. I feed some cash into the soda machine and push the button for a Diet Coke. It thumps down loudly. I bend over, grab it, and straighten again. A shadow’s on the far side of the narrow room, blocking the door. “You never asked my name. Some people might think that was rude.” I go very, very still. That voice. That smell. The same cologne. The dull musk, clean and fresh. I turn and he’s there. Alone this time, lingering close by. The jacket is gone, though he’s still in a dress shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbow, the top two buttons undone. Black tattoos etch every inch of his skin. What kind of businessman has that much ink? His watch glitters in the low light. His gray eyes gleam as he drinks me in. I shiver and that fear comes back, but not as strong this time.
“I’m sorry about that. I mean, about the whole thing.” I plunk the soda into the ice bucket. “Nunzio thought I should have taught you a lesson. Do you think he was right?” My eyes widen a fraction. “Who’s Nunzio?” “The unhappy-looking man who was reaching for a weapon. I know you noticed it.” I lick my lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The man st eps closer. “You still haven’t asked. It’s starting to get rude. Maybe Nunzio was correct.” “No. I mean, sorry. What’s... what’s your name?” “I’m Rafe Corvino. It’s very nice to meet you, June Ashworth.” He offers a hand. I stare at the ink on his fingers. A-S-H-E-S. I’m dizzy as I slip my palm against his. He dwarfs me like I’m nothing. His grip isn’t as menacing this time, though it’s firm. “How did you know my last name?” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he holds onto me for longer than he should. “I have a room here. I don’t make this offer often, so please don’t be offended, but if you want to get away from your party for some quiet—“ He lets that dangle between us. “No, I couldn’t, I mean—“ “How many girls are sharing those beds?” I think about the six bodies jammed onto the single queen. “Too many.” “I have plenty of space. More than I know what to do with. Come join me for a drink.” “I really shouldn’t. Marnie’s getting sick.” “Your friend won’t miss you. The bride, correct? She’ll hardly remember much tomorrow.” “I don’t, I mean, how did you—?” “Come with me, June. I won’t beg.” My head spins. This man knows my surname. He knows Marnie’s the bride. What else does he know? “Were you watching me?” I ask, suddenly sure this wasn’t random, that he didn’t happen to be coming in here at the same time. His lips quirk. Not quite a smile—I doubt the man’s capable of one. But something like it. “Yes, June. I’ve been watching you all night. The way you steer your friends from trouble. The way they look to you.” He pulls me closer. “Aren’t you tired of doing the right thing all the time?” I’m breathing fast. His breath smells like mint and whisky. His stormy eyes burn into mine. And I hate it, but he’s right. I’ve been asking myself that all night.
Other people get away with bad behavior. They drink too much, act like idiots, nobody cares the next day. It’s funny, almost, how stupid Cathleen was, or how loud Brittany got, or the way Tracy strung those guys along and got free drinks only to ditch them by running across the street and losing a heel and nearly getting hit by a bus. But God forbid I let loose. The world would fall apart, right? No, June, this isn’t you. But as Rafe waits patiently for me to say something, I start to wonder. Why the hell not? “One drink.” The words bubble out like I can’t control them. “Nothing more.” He nods slightly like that’s what he expected and turns to leave. I drift after him like I’m in a dream. The ice bucket and the soda stay tucked under my arm. Rafe takes me to the elevators and st eps inside. He hits the button for the penthouse and scans his card. I stare in alarm and wonder as the doors slide shut and we glide upward. Rafe watches the numbers change, hardly paying me any attention. He looks like a statue, like a demon built to snare women in his trap. Who is this man? And what does he want with me? I never should have followed him, but the doors open again and Rafe’s walking into the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. I knew this was a luxury hotel, which is why all the girls are packed into a single economy space downstairs. But I didn’t understand what luxury meant. Everything gleams. There’s a full wetbar, kitchen, sitting area, living room. The fixtures and furniture are modern. Real art hangs on the walls. Stairs lead up to another floor, presumably where the bedrooms are. Rafe opens a bottle of prosecco with a loud pop. I yelp and drop the ice bucket. It clatters away, scattering ice and sending the soda bottle rolling across the floor. He doesn’t seem to mind as he pours me a drink. “Your favorite,” he says without explanation. “How did you know?” Again, he doesn’t answer, only gets himself something dark brown and goes to stand near the windows. The view is incredible. Philadelphia glitters at his feet. I linger back, afraid to get too close. It’s not the height that bothers me, but the man. I half expect him not to have a reflection, but he’s still there in the glass, only a man. A perfect man. Gorgeous beyond reckoning. “Your dancer,” Rafe says without looking back. “Was he acc eptable?” “Uh, he was okay. I mean, not what I expected, but—“
Rafe glances at me in the window. “Did you expect someone more like me?” Another of those ghostly smiles. I shiver and take a long drink. “No, not at all.” “That’s a shame.” He swirls his glass, ice clinking. “Do you dance?” “I don’t think I ever have.” “Come on, that can’t be true.” I say it with a smile, but that quickly fades. Looking him over, I start to think it might be. “I’m not much of a dancer either, to be honest.” “You look good, though. When you let yourself.” “What do you mean?” “Your shoulders are tense, June.” I laugh, but he’s not kidding. I make myself relax them. “I guess I’m not used to following strange men back to their rooms.” “That’s a good rule of thumb.” He turns his back to the city. “I’m going to make you an offer. I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m being too forward, but I’m not the kind of man who does this often, and I prefer not to waste time with uncertainty.” “Uh...” I finish the remainder of my glass. “What kind of offer?” “There are three bedrooms upstairs. You may have your pick. If you want, you can go up there now, brush your teeth, go to sle ep, and in the morning I’ll be gone. You won’t see me again. But if you like, I’ll come with you, and we’ll share the bed together. You and me, June, just for tonight. I’ll be gone before you wake. But if I’m right—“ He st eps closer and takes the glass from my unsteady fingers. He pours some of his drink into it, tips the glass to my lips, and pours it into my mouth. It’s whisky, or bourbon, or something like that, and it’s very, very good. I’m trembling with desire, excitement coursing down my skin. “If I’m right, you won’t stop thinking about me for a very, very long time.” I bend my knees and put my glass on the floor. I’m breathing fast, shaking, wondering if I’m really doing this. Why can’t I misbehave? Why can’t I meet beautiful, handsome, scary strangers and do something stupid for once? I watched Marnie and her friends go wild, and why not me? I take Rafe’s hand, the one holding his drink, and I raise it to my lips. I kiss his tattooed knuckle. Then I take a sip from his glass. The sound he makes. My god. It’s ecstasy. The softest grunt. Barely the whisper of a moan. Like this man’s holding himself back, a spring twisted to nearly breaking. “Will you beg?” I ask, not sure what’s coming over me, but thinking, I can be this girl, just once, for one single night, and never, ever again. I meet his gaze and it’s hard for me to hold it. Those stormy gray eyes, filled with hate, desire, blood. “If I ask
you to?” His hand presses against the small of my back and he pulls me against him, crushing his mouth down to mine in a blistering, possessive kiss. The only answer I need. No, he won’t beg. And frankly, I don’t need him to. I kiss him back in a frenzy, moaning at the taste of his soft, stubbly lips, the power in his shoulders and his arms as he holds me, the warmth of his body, the way he dwarfs me. I’m average, around five-foot-six, not all that thin, but it’s like I’m a toy in his arms. He eats me, his tongue lapping mine, before pulling back with rage and need etched on his stone-like face. He pours more liquor into my mouth. I gulp it down. He finishes the glass and tips it onto the floor, letting it bounce and roll away, his freed hand now lacing through my thick hair. He bends and smells some strands before rubbing them down my face, leaving them in my mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, eyes roaming my body. I’m still in my dress from earlier and now I’m aware of the low neckline, the short hemline, showing my lightly tanned skin. I yelp, blowing out blond hair, as he lifts me up, hands gripping my ass, wrapping my legs around his middle and kissing me again. I moan as he turns and pushes me against the glass. His mouth is hunger and heaven. It’s hell and a promise of every mistake I never should’ve made. And I don’t care. I should be back with Marnie taking care of all my friends, and instead I’m with a beast, a monster, a creature unlike anything I’ve experienced. But as he holds me suspended over the city, his lips sucking my neck, my chest, the tops of my breasts, it’s like the ice around him thaws. What was a statue before warms as he touches me, as I grind into his incredible body, as I kiss his perfect lips. He lets me down. One hand wraps around my neck, pushing my chin back, as the other tears the straps off my shoulders. One rips and I moan in shock. He doesn’t seem to care. He peels me apart, and he does it slowly. I’m breathing hard as he tugs down my top, exposing one breast, and then the other. “Lovely doll, like you were made for me,” he says in worship, eyes shining with more emotion than I thought he was capable of. His mouth takes mine, kissing me before moving down to lick my breasts, sucking my tits and nipples, other hand tugging up my skirt, cupping my ass. I moan. I’ve never been so stimulated before, and he’s barely done anything to me. His tongue swirls around my hard nipples and that hand moves to the front of my panties, slowly stroking between my legs. “Ah, that’s a good girl,” he whispers, biting one breast hard enough to hurt.
“Fuck, Rafe,” I gasp, arching. His fingers press into my clit. I gasp as the pleasure and the pain slam together. He deftly flicks my panties aside, rubbing up and down my folds. Holy shit, I’m so wet, it’s like he’s gliding through me. “Such a soaking girl. Such a greedy slut. Let’s see how you taste.” He plunges his fingers inside of me. Then pulls them out. And sucks them clean. Is this guy for real? That must have been the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He moans and sighs. “Delicious. Your turn.” “My what—“ He r epeats the process, but this time, he shoves his fingers in my mouth. It’s warm and salty. I whimper, moaning, sucking myself off him. He watches eagerly, a low hum in the back of his throat. He fucks my mouth with his fingers before pulling them out, spit connecting his palm and my chin. “Very good girl,” he whispers, lightly patting my cheek, leaving more spit on my skin. “Now for everything.” “Rafe—“ He drops to his knees, spreads my legs, and finds my pussy with his mouth. Right there, back to the windows overlooking the city, I nearly shatter on this monster’s mouth. He eats me like he’s dying. His tongue laps and sucks my folds like no man has ever touched me before. I’ve never been more taken, more worshipped, more licked and sucked and teased. His mouth is heaven and hell as he grips my ass and pulls me tighter, moaning like he’s enjoying it as much as I am. I’m in bliss. I’m in a frenzy. I grind against this dark hell’s face and whisper his name, breasts shaking, panties ruined, dress torn. “You taste—like fucking—bliss—“ he moans against me. “Holy shit, Rafe, I’m going to—“ He pulls back with a snarl and stands, fisting my hair. “Not yet,” he says, pushing me down onto my heels, back against the glass. “This first.” His belt buckle. His slacks unzip. My mouth waters in horror and anticipation as he kicks himself free and slides off his black boxer briefs. One tatted fist grips the biggest dick I’ve ever seen. He’s thick and long. And there’s fucking ink on the base. Heaven. What the fuck?
I whimper as he presses his enormous tip into my mouth. I lick it, sloppy and eager. I haven’t done this in a long time but that doesn’t seem to matter. He takes my hands, holds them above my head, and fucks my mouth like I really am his doll. I moan, whimpering, spit rolling down his shaft as he fills my mouth. He growls as he does it and releases one wrist. “Touch yourself while I fuck your pretty lips, doll,” he moans, eyes half-lidded. A man unused to losing control. I do as I’m told. My fingers graze through soaking folds to find my swollen clit. I moan as pleasure slams into my core. I stroke and stroke as he fucks my lips and I’m going to lose my mind, going to explode. He’s salty, spreading my mouth. I can barely take him. He pulls back with a moan, gripping his base. “Look at you, your lips all swollen and pretty.” He shoves a thumb into my mouth. “All that spit.” He strokes it up and down his shaft. “So fucking messy.” “You did that to me,” I whisper, hand over my pussy, one more stroke from breaking. “I thought you mentioned a bed...?” His eyes are fire as he drags me to my feet. “No time.” He turns me, ripping my panties down, tearing my dress up the side. It hangs off me like a rag. I spent a hundred dollars on that... “I need this now.” “Rafe—“ He presses his tip against me. Kicks my legs wide. Bends one arm behind my back and pushes my cheek against the cold glass. I know I’m forgetting something. I’m responsible June, right? What am I forgetting? My mind goes blank. Nothing else in the world exists. As the biggest, thickest cock I’ve ever experienced slowly fills me. “Fuuuuuuuck,” I moan, eyes rolling back. “Oh, good girl,” Rafe says, voice trembling. “This normally takes... a lot longer... but you... fuck.” He fills me. He breaks me. I moan, eyes watering. It hurts a lot, but it also feels so good I could scream. He’s shaking with desire as his cock pulls back, pushes in, pulls back, pushes in, filling me, easing me wider, wider, forcing me to take him. “Rafe... I can’t...” “You will.” He slides in de eper. “Every. Single. Inch.” “Rafe!” He moans as he slides more, more, more. I didn’t know I could fit this much of a man inside me, but he ke eps going, stretching me, taking me, in and out, de eper, de eper, until he gasps and says my name, and I’m right on the edge of crumbling to ash.
Like his knuckles. Like my name. Ash. “June, doll,” he says, and the total lack of control in his voice is going to kill me. “I’m going to fuck you now.” “You weren’t—“ He thrusts into me and I scream his name. Another thrust, and another, and now he’s fucking me, taking me like a beast and I’ve never experienced such dominant control, a cock spreading me and ripping me to my core, and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t, not when he’s whispering my name and saying how fucking good I feel and how badly he wants to lick my cum-drenched cunt, how he wants to make me messy and sloppy and moaning, how he’s going to fuck me until he fits, until my pussy’s ruined for any other man, until— “Fuck, Rafe!” I arch and the orgasm is blinding. I shatter all over his dick, mindless, heavenly, blissful, and he fucks me through it like a savage, breaking me, supporting my body as he does it, moaning and snarling, and I feel him tighten as his cock glides in to the hilt, coming so hard it’s like I’m hammered at my edges, and I moan his name and tears roll down my cheeks as I nearly black out. “Good girl, June, such a good girl,” he says as I start to come down, gasping for air, his cock buried between my legs, pulsing with the end of his orgasm. I feel him warm and wet inside of me. “Such a good girl. So lovely and pretty. Taking every inch. God, June, you feel so fucking good.” He kisses me then. It’s not the kiss of a man spent, a man finished and satisfied. No, it’s a promise. That he cares. That he wants to make sure I’m okay. But that he’s not finished with me yet. He slides out and it’s like losing a piece of myself. I moan, slumping back against the glass. He lifts me and carries me to the couch, d epositing me down. He leaves for a moment, then returns with another glass of freezing cold prosecco. “Here, doll.” He drags me into his lap. I curl against him as he feeds me more of the drink. “You’re okay.” “I’m very okay.” I lean my ear to his chest. Warm, muscular, his heart thudding a slow rhythm. “I might be broken and I’m pretty sure I’ll never walk straight again, but I’m okay.” His chuckle is a low rumble. “You’ll survive, doll.” “I didn’t know you knew how to laugh.” “Seems you bring it out of me.” I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. “Will you tell me something?”
“Go ahead and ask if you like.” “How did you know my last name?” He clucks his tongue and strokes my hair. “Don’t ruin the fun, doll.” “But—“ “Tomorrow it won’t matter. Why worry about the details now?” “Rafe—“ “Tomorrow it won’t matter,” he r epeats. “There’s only tonight.” I chew my lip. Now that I’m sinking away from the orgasm high, reality starts to reassert itself. I’m in the most expensive suite in an extremely high-end hotel. I’m sitting mostly naked (parts of my dress are still draped off my body) in the lap of a terrifying, drop-dead gorgeous monster. I had the best sex of my life and I’m pretty sure he was right. I’ll be thinking about him for a very long time. I can walk away now. Return to the room downstairs. Check on Beth and Marnie. Go back to being myself. “You’re right.” I tilt my chin toward him. He comes down for a kiss. I grab the back of his head and hold him, de epening and lengthening, until I feel him already beginning to stir. That massive cock is hard to ignore. “Just tonight.” “That’s a good girl.” “Now how about you show me the bed you promised?” “We can do that.” “Ah—“ He adjusts, his dick pressing to my ass. “We’re not going to make it, are we?” “Most likely not.” “How are you this hard already?” “When I break, doll, I break all the way. It’s why I don’t do this often. It’s why I don’t take the risk.” There’s a moment, a beat when he seems distant. What does he mean, the risk? But he leans down and kisses me again, and all that’s forgotten, as he slowly removes what’s left of my ruined dress, and spends the next several hours getting to know every inch of my body. Who the hell turned the lights on? “Hey, Marnie, what are you—“ I squint at the room around me, disoriented for a moment. Then the night before floods back. The ache between my legs where Rafe left me battered and heavenly. The luxurious bed like a pillow. No other drunken girls to deal with. “Rafe?”
I look around, but the room’s empty. I stay in bed for a while. It’s exactly like he promised. The clock says it’s barely past seven, but the monster is gone. There’s no sign of him in the bathroom. I find clothes in my size draped over the tub. No note, but it’s obvious. I pull on fresh, comfortable underwear, sweats, and a long-sleeve shirt. Simple, but all designer brands. I ke ep searching. Nothing in the closet or in the other rooms. As far as I can tell, nobody else was here last night. Even the living room was cleaned. My ice bucket and my bottle of Diet Coke are on the kitchen counter like that’s where they always were. Not spilled on the floor. I find a note taped to the glass windows right where he fucked me. The room is paid for through the week. Anything you order goes on my tab. Get what you like. Don’t hold back. Enjoy yourself, doll. “What the hell?” I murmur to myself. This space has to be thousands per night. But he’s really letting me stay? This is crazy. I can’t believe last night happened. But it really, really did. I have to get back to Marnie and Beth. They’re probably worried sick. I left my phone in the room and have no way of letting them know I’m okay. I’ll be back though. Why not? Back in the real world, my life sucks. Dead-end job, no prospects, a sick grandmother, and debt to my eyelashes. I’ll go back to taking care of my friends, but when that’s over... I can pretend to be someone else for a few more days.