The Bet by Max Monroe

Jude

At my words, Sophie’s body shivers in my arms, and I smirk mischievously, knowing I’ve hooked her. Combine her newfound determination to challenge me with the fact that I can barely feel the rest of my body for all the blood that’s now in my cock, and I know one thing without a shadow of a doubt.

She’s not going anywhere but a bed tonight, and she won’t be alone.

“Come on,” I urge when she doesn’t verbally refuse my efforts. “Let’s go back inside and act like we know each other.”

As I pull back from her grip, my tie slides through her hand until we’re a full two feet apart. I reach out an offered hand, and after a few long moments of careful, slightly angry consideration, she takes it, sliding her petite hand inside my palm.

I don’t wait—in the game of women, there’s no room for hesitation—and lead her back through the lobby entrance, down the hallway, and into the main room of the club. The din of partygoers and Ki-Ki’s full volume crushes us immediately, sucking us further into its vortex with every step we take toward the dance floor. I’ve almost broken through the crowd at the edge when an irate tug at my hand pulls me to a stop.

I spin to face her and place my lips at her ear to ensure I’m heard and ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not this easy, you know?” she spits, flaming leaves whipping wildly in her unique eyes.

“I never said you were,” I correct mildly, the ignition of my arousal by her sexy attitude becoming harder and harder to ignore. As a man who’s never had a type other than hot, eager, and willing, I’m surprised to find that, evidently, argumentative is a turn-on.

“Well, even if you didn’t say it, I just felt like you needed to know it. I don’t spread my legs for anything that sniffs in my direction, and I don’t need you to take some weird form of sexual pity on me either.”

Shaking my head with a smile, I can’t help but bend down enough to take her mouth with mine. Her emotions are all over the place right now, but I spent enough time with her on our last date to know that the end is most definitely worth the means. And in this case, having her argue with me even seems a little fun.

There’s resistance to my mouth’s effort at first—though, it’s clearly halfhearted at best—but the deeper I delve into the flesh of her lips, the more malleable her body becomes. I take advantage by pulling her hips into my own and showing her just how turned on she makes me feel.

When I pull away, her eyes are wild and pale, warning of a storm like the underside of a leaf. I lean back to her ear, the air from my words vibrating off her neck and bouncing back to my lips to make them tingle.

“All I’m thinking about right now, Sophie, is feeling you on my cock. If I thought you were easy, I’d take you to the bathroom right now and fuck you.”

Her breathing escalates, reverberating in the pounding bass from Ki-Ki’s mix, and for a fraction of a second, I think about doing just that.

But instant gratification, as it turns out, isn’t always the best, and I know for a fact from my last encounter with this very woman, that the longer I prime Sophie tonight, the hotter the sex is going to be.

She’s begging to be toyed with, and I aim to please.

Done with conversation, I grab her hand again and pull her the rest of the way onto the dance floor, spinning her around in a full circle and slamming her front to my own. Her tits press deliciously into my chest and her hips are restless against me.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I bring a hand to her hip and start to move in tune with the thick, throbbing music.

The beat drops, and the lights fall, and I make my next move. Her slinky dress bunches up atop her thighs as I scoot my leg between hers and pull her hips toward me to grind deeper. It’s dirty dancing at its finest, and the last time I came this close to coming because of it was in high school.

Sophie’s eyes are locked on my face when I lift mine to look at her, and the emerald color of them looks like a sparkly onyx in the low light of the dance floor. I don’t know how one set of eyes can have the power to shine like so many different shades in the span of minutes, but they change like the mood rings my sister used to have as a kid.

I never expected to be back in this club with her after the first night, let alone dancing and breathing her in again—except, this time, with the intimate knowledge of what sinking myself between her legs really feels like.

I pull her hips firmly against mine, tighter, harder, and a moan leaves her lips on a silent gesture covered by the music. She looks like pure sex, and I can’t help but put my lips on her exposed throat and suck gently. Edging closer, she digs her fingernails into my shoulders and moans again, but this time, it’s loud enough for me to hear it, even over the crush of the crowd and bass.

With one eager hand, I dig into the back of her hair and pull her face up toward mine, sealing our lips together. She tastes like pure candy, compliments of the fruity drinks she’s been diving into all night while pretending not to notice me.

I lick the tiny space between her lips to get her to open them more and slide my tongue fully inside her perfect mouth on invitation. I swear she’s got the kind of lips I could explore for a night all on their own. Plump and responsive and as if they were meant to mesh with mine.

Everything else about the night starts to fade away. The clients, the job, all the details I should still be paying attention to.

Regardless of the importance of all of it, the only thing I can focus on is her.

Her sweet body. Her small but heavy tits. Her delicate collarbone and moody eyes, and the most perfect space between her legs that awaits me.

This night may have started out about winning over as many event planners as possible to ensure the long-standing success of Club Craze Manhattan. Winning over one planner, though, has become an event of its own.

Get ready, Sophie. I never back away from a challenge.