Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I make my way to The Silo, refusing to give in to the small twinge of guilt simmering low in my belly. The Silo had been my choice because it’s where I get the most worked up, and I know it won’t take me long to find someone in there. The Silo is not about sensuality or slow arousal. Rather, it caters to those who like hardcore, fast fucking and dirty kink. I shove the kernel of guilt down even farther because it’s unfair Benjamin can make me feel this way. I resent it. We don’t owe each other anything at this point. No loyalty, no dues. Certainly no more care, concern, desire, or lust.
Tonight, I’m going to purge him from my system—hopefully with multiple amazing orgasms.
For a Monday night, it’s crowded in The Silo. So many beautiful men and women to play with. So many toys to use. Jorie’s brother, Micah, makes some of the sex toys showcased in here, which goes to show there are many things people can do with an engineering degree.
As I wind my way through the crowd, I nod at several people I know. There’s an oval bar in the middle of the room, and I take a seat on the far side so I can watch the action in the glassed-in rooms. When I plop my butt on the seat, my skirt rides up so high half my ass hangs out, but it doesn’t make me feel self-conscious. If anything, having my body on display makes me feel even sexier, as does knowing someone will want me tonight.
I order a dirty martini, letting my eyes roam around the room. There are a few men I’ve been with over the past few years here. If I want, there are solid repeat potentials available. It would cut out any small talk. The man across the bar has a solid knack for hitting my G-spot with his fingers, creating an orgasm unlike any other.
That could be nice tonight.
I move my gaze beyond him, latching on to two men entering the room.
They’re both tall and intensely good looking, and I realize I know one of them.
August Greenfield.
He works for a company called Jameson Force Security, which is owned by a man named Kynan McGrath.
Kynan is a former member of this club who I’d been with once before and it was a “once” I’ll never forget. Kynan was well known by many of the ladies and even some of the men because he’s adventurous and pretty much spent all his free time here. But he’s now firmly off the market, engaged to actress and singer Joslyn Meyers. They both now live in Pittsburgh where he moved to open up a new headquarters for Jameson Force Security.
August locks eyes on me. He and I have exchanged flirtations—a.k.a. dirty talking—but we’ve never done anything. Not from lack of desire, but rather from no opportunity. Each time we’ve met up, one of us had already made solid plans with somebody else.
His gaze runs over my body, and it’s obvious he likes my dress. When he nudges the man with him, they both move my way.
August has brown hair with a reddish tint and brilliant green eyes. He’s tall and lanky, but the sexiest thing about him by far is his mouth. His lips are full, and he has a set of sexy dimples that always seem to be pitted with amusement. He’s devilishly handsome with a confidence that only lends to his attractiveness.
The man with him is just as tall, but he’s built twice as wide. He has on a pair of dark gray dress slacks and a formfitting black button-down shirt that seems to have been custom made to fit over his bulging muscles. He’s got raven-black hair and crystal blue eyes that seem to penetrate straight through me.
As the men approach, I swivel my stool toward them, uncrossing my legs before crossing them again. As one, their eyes drop to get a peek. If they’d been quick enough, they now know I’m not wearing any panties.
“Elena,” August says in a gruff, appreciative voice. Leaning down, he brushes his lips across my cheek. “Please tell me I’ve found you on a night when you don’t have any plans.”
My laugh is husky, but it carries a slight tinge of nervousness. It appears I’m going to be getting laid sooner rather than later, and I push that guilty feeling away.
“I just got here, and I’ve barely taken a sip of my martini,” I say vaguely, but I give him a wide smile to convey interest. I don’t know what my hesitation is in committing to him, because I know he would be an excellent lover. I’ve watched him fuck other women on occasion, and they had clearly enjoyed it if their moans and blissed-out expressions were any indication.